#but yeah now i just want it to hurt and bleed and make me feel some goddamn thing that inst this fucking void

[chappellrroan]

it's almost like if i dont let the whole world know about my new hyperfixtation i will burst into flames

[lucianinsanity]

.

[itsalwaysdark]

my entire family thinks im crazy now . god . ok . anyways

[missdynamighttt]

all i can think about is mean, pro hero! katsuki giving me backshots, man ☹️

you and katsuki were constantly at each other's throats, whether it was at hero work or at social gatherings. you couldn't stand each other, always arguing and sniping at one another.

but one night, after a few drinks at a work thing, some boring event. something happened. maybe it was just all the tension building up and you simply didn't notice because... you somehow ended up at his place, stripped naked, and honestly? it was mind-blowing.

"hey!" you pant desperately, whimpering from how firmly he grips on your hips. your hands grip onto his couch tightly as your knees hit the soft material. "loosen up a little, my hips are bleeding!"

katsuki's been on edge all day, his mind filled with images of you, wearing your tight fitted clothes that hugged your curves just right, and those high heels that make your legs look endless.

it didn't make it any better when you approached him too, too drunk to even remember where you live, getting you safe in his place and pushing aside your differences for now. maybe a little too much.

"what'cha talking about? i'm not gripping you hard enough," katsuki grins almost devilishly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he continues to slam into you from behind, admiring the warm red marks on your hips.

the alcohol earlier long left his system and yours. all he's drunk on now is the feeling of you clenching down on him, whimpering from beneath him. his hands hold onto your love handles as he pulls you into him, your sweet moans echoing in his ears.

he leans in close, breathing heavily, his voice low and rough. "besides.. you like it when i ram into you like this, don't cha?"

"god, you're insufferable," you huff out, frustration and a hint of vulnerability in your moans. "you're such a... fucking asshole."

katsuki grins at your reaction, his fingers sinking deeper into your skin. its not enough for him, the pleasure hes giving you. seeing as you're still being a bitch. more can't hurt, right?

a hand reaches forward, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, a sick twisted feeling in him as he watches you struggle to take him.

"watch it, woman." he grunts, his balls twitching as it slams against your pillowy folds. it felt like heaven as he slams his cock hard into your warm cunny, after putting up with your ass for so, so long.

"you knew what you were doing when you decided to show up in that tight little dress. you've been waiting for this, haven't you?"

your yelp of surprise quickly turns into a gasp of pleasure as he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls it back firmly. you try pouting at him but can't keep the moan fully suppressed from your lips.

"not my fault you..." you manage to huff out, your voice filled with irritation and undeniable craving. "get turned on like a pathetic little teenager..."

katsuki laughs at your comment, his laughter quickly turning into a low, growl as he continues to thrust into you. he knows you're taunting him, trying to rile him up. and it's working.

"oh yeah? what makes you think i'm the pathetic one here, hah?" he pauses, landing a hard smack on your ass, earning another yelp from you before holding onto your hips again.

"you're the one on all fours here, getting fucked by me like a dog because you're too needy to wait til we got to bed..."

"don't act like you're any better," you retort, voice shaky with pleasure. "hypocrite.."

he scoffs, giving your hair another firm tug. "i can't help it if you looked that good, brat... besides, you love how much i want you. you love knowing how much i fuckin' need you. don't try to deny it..."

katsuki gives you another smack, this time a little harder. you whimper weakly, face flush with embarrassment as he continues his relentless assault on your cunt.

"you're... hah," you mewl out, voice trembling. "delusional... obsessed."

katsuki laughs again, the sound rough and low in his throat. "yeah, i am. its a real problem. can't help it if you're the only woman that gets me going like this. but you love it."

you muffle your moans by covering your mouth with your hand, your attempts to suppress your growing ecstasy proving very ineffective.

"you're just.. a horny jerk.." you gasp between breaths, the words coming out in a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "all you are to me is an...easy lay."

katsuki grunts, feeling your words hit him like a punch in the gut. he knows you're trying to push his buttons, to get him to snap.

and it was working.

he tugs roughly on your hair, his eyes narrowing as he glares down at you.

"oh, you think i'm just an easy lay, huh? someone you can use whenever you need to, but then you can toss me aside when you're done? is that what you think i am?"

you can barely speak as he goes rougher on you, your words broken up by moans and gasps of pleasure as his cock bullies your cervix.

your eyes are closed, head thrown back, and all you can get out is a desperate repetition of "no," and "sorry," as you mewled with pleasure and submission.

katsuki loosens his grip on your hair a bit, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you moan from underneath him.

he loves the way your voice trembles when you apologize, how you get all sweet and vulnerable when he's got you like this.

it's like you're a totally different person when you're not fighting and arguing, and he can't get enough of it.

"yeah? you sorry, huh?" he lands another hard smack on your ass again, another whimper rolling off of your tongue. "you sorry for callin' me names, sayin' things to piss me off?"

"yes, yeah, 'm...sorry... bakugo," you repeat through gasps of pleasure, almost pleading and surrendering to him. "...'m sorry..."

katsuki lets out a low growl, feeling something in his chest tighten at the sound of his name on your lips, your voice soft and vulnerable.

he's not used to seeing you be submissive, his grip on your hips tightening again. what he's used to is you calling him by his name, always in a tone full of sarcasm and irritation. but hearing his name from you, spoken like that...

it's driving him absolutely feral.

"tch. sorry enough to let me do whatever i want to you?" he mutters, his voice rougher than usual, massaging your doughy ass.

you nod, head bobbing up and down feverishly, your face hot from embarrassment. your chest rises and falls as you pant, feeling desperate and needy, the sounds of your rapid breaths echoing in the room.

"yeah? whatever i want?"

"shit— yeah.. anything.. just get on with it, dammit.."

katsuki's eyes narrow as he stares down at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. he knows exactly what he wants, and he can already tell it's going to catch you off guard.

"anything, huh? lean back a little f'me."

you bite down on your lip, contemplating what his next move might be before you gingerly get up on your knees, leaning back against him. you feels his chest pressed firmly against your back, the heat from his skin sinking through you.

katsuki grins, his hand letting go of your hair, moving down to your hips, using his grip to arch you back against him. his other hand grips your chin, angling your head back so he can look you in the eye. he stares down at you for a moment, his gaze intense, his face so close to yours.

then, without warning, he closes the distance between you, his lips crashing down on yours.

you gasp into the kiss, the sound muffled and lost in a tangle of messy, desperate need. you struggle to keep up with the kiss, overpowered by the relentless pace he sets.

as rough as he was, it felt vulnerable. strangely sweet. your lips part and a soft moan escapes, your body shivering and trembling against his.

his tongue pushes into your mouth as he kisses you deeply, desperately, his hands roaming over your body like he can't get enough of you.

he's wanted this for so long, but he never imagined it would feel this good.

katsuki's kisses become more feverish, his hands moving down to your hips, guiding you against him as his body presses against you from behind.

he breaks the kiss with a ragged breath, pushing you down against the couch, your face pressed into the cushions. his hand finds your scalp again, tugging on your hair again as he watches his cock sink deeper into your pussy.

"shit... was that what you were expecting?"

you cry out, the sound muffled by the couch. your body shudders and writhes, your hands clenching into tight fists as you shakes your head, lost in the overwhelming sensation.

"n-no.."

"figured.. but i'm willing to bet you liked it anyway."

you scoff, trying to feign annoyance or irritation, but there's no mistaking the flush on your cheeks or the way your body trembled when he kissed you.

you can't deny the intense and silent yearning when he kissed you, the way it makes you crave his rough touch, the temptation to melt into his arms all too strong despite your resistance.

"oh, you can deny it all you fuckin' want, but your body is tellin' me something different," katsuki grins, watching your body betray your feigned annoyance."act like you hate me, i don't give a shit. but i know you love this."

you pant out weakly, voice trembling and quavering as you whimper. "you're so... damn... mean."

katsuki chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening further as he grinds against you.

"that's right. i'm the worst, aren't i? and yet here you are, drippin' wet on my dick, all because of me."

his rough treatment of you, the way he makes your body shiver and quiver, his dirty, filthy words egging you on, has you trembling and embarrassed, overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure.

every muscle in your body tensed, your back arching against him as a cry escaped you. you were close. so, so close.

"bakugo, please... i.. i'm... gonna...." you moan out as you push your ass onto his abdomen, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you take everything he gives you.

katsuki's body shivers as you moans out his name, the sound sending a wave of electricity through him.

"tch, already?" he clicks his tongue at you, deliberately slowing down the pace. you let out a strangled whine, your body shaking in his grip. "c'mon, you better not get off now... i'm not done with you yet."

"bakugooo... i'm close... please..." you mewled, pleading and needy. "please, i need... i need... " you can't even finish the sentence, your mind consumed with the single-minded desire for him. and his dick.

"begging now, huh? what happened to all that attitude? did i fuck it out of ya that fast?"

"you fuckin' wish... shit... i don't care anymore... just make me feel good, please..."

your body trembles against him, shaking with need and desperation. you're pleading, begging him to give you what you need. you can't even form a coherent thought anymore, your mind fogged up raw, unrelenting need. the need for him.

"you really need it that badly?" katsuki coos almost condescendingly, loving how much you're falling apart beneath him. "you're shaking like a fuckin' leaf. this tight little pussy clenching down on me... you're pathetic."

"fuck, fuck, i'm sorry," your gasps and moans have evolved into a desperate whimpers and needy whines, your body shaking as tears stream down your face. "just need you.. need you so much, please.."

the pleasure overwhelms you, feeling like you're going to come apart at the seams. your body quivers uncontrollably against him, like a puppet whose strings are held by his every touch.

katsuki's mind is swimming, overwhelmed by the sight of you falling to pieces beneath him. he looks down at you, taking in her quivering, desperate state. he's never seen you so vulnerable, so needy for him. it's a sight he didn't know he needed to see.

he gently pulls you up from the couch, using his hand on your wrist. he leans over to you, his lips fanning over your ear, his breath warm on your skin.

"look at me, princess. let me kiss you again."

he calls you princess, not just because of your bratty and entitled demeanor, but because deep down, he wants to treat you like one.

he wants to pamper and spoil you, wrap you in luxurious silk sheets and never let you want for anything.

but admitting that was not easy for him.

so he covers it up, telling himself it's just your attitude that earned the nickname, not any weird, hidden desires.

your face is flushed, feeling embarrassed by his simple request and the intimacy of the moment. but the pleasure he's given you leaves your body and mind too fogged to object. with a breathless gasp, you turn to face him.

katsuki's eyes rake over your face, taking in all of you. for a moment, he looks at you with an expression you've never seen on his face before.

it's softer, gentler than his usual cocky grin or mean glare.

he leans in close, his face a few inches away from yours, his eyes fixated on your lips. slowly, he closes the distance between them, his mouth capturing yours in a surprisingly tender kiss.

as your lips met, it's like the world melts away. it's a feeling so unfamiliar to both of you, but at the same time, it feels so unbelievably right.

you gasp as he pulls away, the sudden absence of his touch leaving you with a pang of emptiness, your body still trembling and buzzing with need.

you want more. but you can't ask him that.

his eyes are fixed on your face, watching your cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as you meet his gaze. he can't help but chuckle, his usual cocky smirk back on his face.

"what, you gettin' all shy on me? after everything we've done tonight, this is what does it for you?"

"shut up..." you click your tongue, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it's quickly unraveling when he starts his relentless pace again.

your words are broken between gasps and moans as he goes harder, your body arching needily against him. "oh, fuck.. yes, bakugo... please, 'm.. gonna..."

"yeah? you gonna cum for me, princess?" he grins, landing another hard smack on your ass. "you gonna cum all over this dick?"

katsuki's breath hitches at your nod and whiny pleas, his body shuddering against you. he can feel how close you are, and he's not sure how much longer he can hold on himself.

"cum for me, princess. wanna feel you clenching down on me, c'mon..."

at his words, you completely shatter against him, your body trembling, vibrations sending down his body as you whimper and moan against him. your gummy walls clamp down on his cock, painting your insides a creamy white of your own.

katsuki watches you unravel from beneath him, clicking his tongue when he feels close. he pulls his cock out of you, stroking it feverishly.

"fuck," he groans, spurting his thick seed onto your back, digging his nails into your hips.

you huff, chest heaving with each breath as you look back at him, clear frustration and arousal on your face.

"why didn't you.. cum inside?" your voice is a breathless whisper, filled with both annoyance and a hint of pleading need.

his eyes widen a little, his face flush as he lets out a breathless chuckle. "did you want me to?"

he reaches down, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle. it's such a contrast from the rough way he treated you earlier, like a completely different side of him.

you scoff and look away, trying to hide the truth behind a pout. even the act of looking away feels like a betrayal to what you truly wanted.

"hmph. why would i want something like that..."

katsuki grins at your defiant expression, loving the feign indifference. he reaches out, tilting your chin up so you're looking at him again.

"you can admit it, y'know. i won't make fun of you."

you pout, as if trying to act like the thought hadn't crossed your mind before. but your words betray your feigned disinterest, cheeks flushed.

"maybe i do. do it inside next time."

his smirk falters a little, showing that gentle look in his eyes again like he's surprised, but not displeased, at your implication.

"you want a next time, princess?"

"yeah... unless, this is a one-time thing?"

it's a question that betrays you, giving him a peak of what you realled wanted. you're trying to sound casual, but the subtle tremble of your voice nearly gives you away.

katsuki notices the tremor in your voice, the hint of vulnerability behind the cool facade. he can tell when you're putting up that tough exterior.

"you really think I'd be done with you after just one night?" he chuckles, his hand moving down to your, rubbing the hot red nails marks.

"oh," your cheeks flushed, embarassed by his words. but you could feel your heart beat hard against your chest as you realize what he meant. "so.. will there be a next time?"

katsuki grins down at you, his hand roaming over you body, still taking in the sight of you, flushed and breathless beneath him.

even if he didn't want to (but deep down, he did), he found it nearly impossible to deny you. it was as if you had some sort of power, a hold on him that made his usual attitude falter.

he was caught, wrapped around your finger, a puppet to your whims, unable to do anything but surrender to you.

and he wanted nothing else.

"oh, there will definitely be a next time, princess. i'm nowhere near done with you yet."

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[pangwave]

wtv

[nodoubtily]

Look at me…

Warnings:: SMUT so MDNI! (Happy now?) possessiveness if you squint, dirty talk, begging, crude language, just missionary, spit/spitting, talks of pregnancy as a form of dirty talk, squirting, hickies, unprotected sex (DONT BE SILLY, WRAP YOUR WILLY.) SoftDom!Niki x WhinyFem!Reader, Niki IS an adult and if you disagree then you can fuck right off with your delusions. Proofread!

“Oh, fuck-“ it comes out in a choked gasp as you slowly take Niki all the way, him slowly driving his cock deep inside you. “S-so…full-“ you say with difficulty, as you rake your hands down his bare back. He sucks in through his teeth when he bottoms out. Niki leans lower, large hands gently brushing hair off your face as you take deep breaths, taking time to take his fat cock. “Nice and full. You’re so good to me, baby.” He gently kisses you, rocking his hips gently to replace the pain with pleasure, which he does with ease. “So tight, all f’me, yeah?” “Yeah.” You whine out, “All…yours.” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

With time, Niki speeds up, to the point his hips are mercilessly hammering into your sopping pussy, rambling. “Fuck, baby. Keep looking at me, wanna see you fucking cum. Oh shit, shit shit.” Niki grinds against you, your clit coming into contact with his public bone as he grinds up messily against you. “Need you to cum in me, baby. Please, god I need this so- fuck!” You’re too far gone, only being able to take his sticky sloppiness as he pounds into oblivion, the smell of sweat and pure sex fogging the room. “Take it. Take-this-fucking-“ every word is followed by a hard thrust. “Dick, oh shit- I’m gonna cum.” He whines out, sending signals straight to your clit. Your legs wrap and lock around his waist, keeping him where you both want him to be. “Give it to me, baby. Give it to me.” You feel yet another orgasm rushing straight from your clit to your stomach, the band winding so tightly that you’re slightly scared for it to snap. “Gonna cum inside, give you my fucking babies and make you a mama. Fuck-“ a guttural whine escapes from his chest, awakening a form of feral-ness you didn’t know you held. You’re cunt is begging him to make that noise again, pussy throbbing, tightening around Niki’s big dick. “Fuck!” He moans again with a snap of his hips. “You just got so fucking tight then.” His pace becomes irregular, begging to cum because it hurts. “Don’t take your fucking eyes off me. Take my fucking dick while you look in my eyes.” His hands hold the side of your face, holding your head so you can only stare back up at him in a lustful gaze. Niki thinks you look so heavenly sinful with your hair ruffled, lips swollen and pink, covered in his spit as he drops globs of saliva into your mouth, neck adorned with dark crimson bruises. “I’m going to cum again.” You announce; your hips raising, inviting a new angle as you brace for an orgasm that feels weirder, almost like you need to pee. “Wait, baby-this feels diff- ohhhh shit.” Your orgasm rushes to you, a very powerful, delicious orgasm as you squirt everywhere, having it land mostly on Niki’s abs and pubic bone. He sits up, so he’s resting on his knees as he stares at your pussy in nothing that could’ve been mistaken for awe. “Baby girl just squirted all over-me. Fuck!” Niki’s hips speed really quickly until they completely come to a halt, a chest-heaving whine leaving his swollen, wet, bleeding lips caused by immense lip biting. “Good girl, oh good girl.”

THIS SMUT IDEA WAS GIVEN FROM A SMUT AUDIO OF NIKI! When I find the creator I’ll tag them. They start with ‘Yucky’.

UPDATE:// the creator I got this idea off of’s user is in my comments, under the helpful user who helped me remember. Please, check out both creators!

UPDATE 2:// CHAT LOOK

[yuvany]

꒰ 🥊 ꒱ ENHYPEN IN THE RING

// ENHYPEN as boxers and you're their number one prize.

─── ( on point ) OT7 x female reader contains : fluff + violence mentioned + pet names + est relationship + cameras + boxing!au + non!idol enha + not proofread 887 wc

reblogs + feedback always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

Being in the boxing ring felt natural to him, but to you, it just felt as if you were praying for Heeseung to be alright every time he fought someone bigger than him. You didn't worry too much as you knew how talented he was and how he managed to beat people who mocked him for him size. Seeing someone fall to the ground never felt this relieving. You rushed up and enveloped his face in between your palms as you pressed a kiss to his lips for his victory. "Worried? For me?" He asks when you both are on your way home. "Yeah, what if you got really hurt?" You said, fidgeting with your thumbs, avoiding his gaze. "I'll be alright, yeah? I wouldn't want to worry you." Heeseung takes your hand in his.

(rest of the memebers below the cut)

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

always worried what you thought of him doing this sport. He knew the dangers of this sport, and he knew that he could get injured really badly, but something always pushed him to continue. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush. During matches, he'd always contemplate if he should quit or not after seeing other boxers bleed from their noses while being knocked out. That anxiousness quickly disperse as he sees you in the crowd, jumping and cheering his name. He puts on a smile for you. Some time later, Jay asked, "what do you think of me doing boxing?" You take a moment to think before answering, "I'm really happy that you're doing something you like, and I'll always support you." You reassure with a kiss to his cheek.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

He adores the comforting speeches you give him before each match. How they always manage to calm him down when his nerves were playing a trick on him. "baby, I'm nervous." Jake says, his hands clutching to your side, not wanting to part from your closeness while his coach is urging him to hurry up. "Why are you so stressed, Jakey? We both know how awsome you'll be. Just go and do what you love." You say, slowly walking towards the ring so that he can jump in. Jake sighs and hums at your words. "You'll be watching, right?" He asks, his puppy eyes gleaming under the bright stadium lights. "Of course." You say, patting his back before you shoo him inside.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

Sunghoon loves showing you off to everyone just as much as you love cheering him on. Post-match, you'd be the first person he'd run over to as the cameras pan over to the couple. He doesn't care about what anyone says or sees, and instead he presses his lips to your face over and over again making sure that the camera and audience does not miss his love for you. Sunghoon is a firm believer that your love is worth more than any prize he'll ever win in his boxing career. After each match he'd win, the internet would be flooded by news making headlines of you and him, which always managed to put a smile on your face.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

Sunoo didn't brag about his wins, even though he had a swelling ego, he was humble. Before each match, he'd wrap his arms around you, his head snuggled against your shoulder as you pat his back, urging him to let go and get ready for the fight, "Sunsun, it's time to go now." He doesn't let go and you just sigh. "Promise me that we'll go on a date later." He compromises, and you easily agree to it, because it's a date? While in the ring, you cheer the loudest, and he hears you since you're standing in the first row, but when the match is over and he is the clear winner, he doesn't hesitate to shoot you a quick wink.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

You loved watching him combat his friends during practice, but when it was time for the competition, you were starting to feel a bit anxious - your heart beating like a drum against your chest. You whisper a soft "good luck," before he gives you a bright smile and climed into the fighting arena. You watched with dread filling you up, and all you cared for was his safety. Seeing him get hit, you jump out of your seat with your palms hovering over your agape mouth that opened due to shock. You try to reassure yourself that he'd be okay, and luckily he was. "You really gave me a scare!" You lightly hit his shoulder, and he just pulled you against his chest.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

You honestly didn't worry too much about him when he fought. Riki is a strong person, both physically and mentally. While he speaks to his coach during break time, Riki wraps one arm around your shoulders lazily as he leans his body against yours. You can hear his short breaths due to exhaustion, but you don't pull away, even though he is sweating. With a nod, there is little time left to spend and he presses a kiss to your head before he rushes back inside. When he wins, he runs over to you with a bright smile as cameras are aimed at him. One interviewer shouts, "What do you think of the prize you're winning." "What do you mean? I've got her right here!" He shouts back as he motions to you.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa @pshwrldd

[thisisadecisionimayregret]

hm.

[2tarbell]

more trailer park!rafe drabbles i beg

maybe something with crybaby!reader too, like he comes home from a long ass day and she’s crying over the silliest thing ever.

but of course he makes her feel better.

love ur writing smm !!

he knew he was in for it when he came home and she wasn’t waiting patiently for him. if he didn’t know any better, rafe would assume the quaint trailer was empty — but the call you shared earlier on his lunch break detailed your plans around the house for the day, so there was no fuckin’ reason for it be as quiet as it was.

his confusion turned to concern when he heard little sniffles and sobs coming from the bathroom. rafe dropped his keys in the bowl and hurried off further into the trailer, in search of his girl.

pushing the bathroom door open with a rough hand, his mind went to the worst places when he saw her crumpled up on the floor. instantly he scooped her up onto the counter. his voice was a flurry of sounds she couldn’t decipher through her tears. the warm cadence she’s become so familiar with instantly providing some relief.

“hey, hey, baby — look at me, you hurt?” his hands are moving fast, holding her cheeks and checking for any injuries to that beautiful face.

she could only shake her head, hiccuping and trying to speak between sobs.

“rafe— dad— daddy—“

he hums and looks over her body. blue eyes checking off a list of what’s ‘normal’. when he finds nothing bleeding or falling off — that intense gaze finds hers, urging her to calm down.

his voice cooed, low and rumbly in a way that always soothes her, “shh, dad’s here, what happened? hm? someone — someone do somethin’ t’you or—“

“muh — my nails!” she interrupted, voice a petulant mumble.

rafe froze, mouth agape and eyes blinking in confusion. he looked down and took her smaller hands in his. turning them over and feeling the smooth skin. no cuts, no bruises—

the fact that he didn’t immediately know what she was talking about sends her into another spiral. yanking her hands from his and covering her eyes as sobs shook her shoulders.

“okay, okay, can’t help if you’re cryin’. talk t’me— what about your nails, honey?”

she sniffs and thrusts them in his face, rafe now seeing something out of the ordinary — chipped baby blue polish.

“wanted— wanted to paint them f’you. ‘cuz— ‘cuz s’the same color as your eyes but forgot they weren’t dry yet so i tried to make dinner and— and i ruined them!”

everyday the universe was testing his patience.

a sharp sigh out of his nose and rafe let his head fall forward. relief and disbelief pooled in his chest. she was this worked up over nail polish?

a low grumble of her name ceased her tears until they were just little sniffles of sadness. any other person and rafe would’ve been out the door with a specific finger showing his annoyance. but this was his person, his precious girl, and if she was this worked up over nail polish — he was going to indulge her. he picked up his head, eyes tired from a long days work but soft in a way meant just for her. he spoke in that way that makes her all fuzzy for him.

“jesus christ, that’s— yeah, okay. baby, ‘m— ‘m sorry. y’just wanted t’do somethin’ sweet f’dad, yeah?”

hook, line, and sinker. reader huffed and nodded as she leaned forward into his chest. her little gasps punctuated his cooing. within minutes, she was putty in his arms, nuzzling closer and closer. rafe littered kisses over her hair, gently rocking her until her head lifted off his chest. wet cheeks and a red nose greeted him and he couldn’t stop the adoring coo from falling out as he wiped her face.

“thereee you are— my sweet girl… better now?”

she nodded at his words, almost hypnotized by the gentle tone of his voice. a little hiccup fell out when she caught sight of her messy nails, but rafe quickly shushed her.

“shh, no more cryin’. y’gotta be a big girl, a’ight? c’mon, whaddaya need?”

she wished she had a picture of this big man patiently painting and blowing on her nails — that matched his eyes.

[princessbrunette]

this wasn’t the first time boxer!rafe had come home injured, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last — but it still worried you sick every time. sometimes your reaction made him wanna give it up all together.

he’d readied himself for bed after he’d come home from a lost fight— comforted by the sound of you humming your baby girl back to sleep in the next room. he’d showered off the majority of blood, a mixed concoction of his own and his opponents, but he had to admit, it still looked pretty bad. he thinks something might even be broken.

especially when he reclines back onto the bed, shirtless — and feels more exhausted than usual. he looks like a dead man when you finally walk back into the room, and your breath hitches in your throat, manicured fingers covering your mouth and eyes watering.

he speaks before you get the chance.

“m’fine, alright? just a lost game. i’ll survive.”

“rafe you really don’t look good. you’re all bruised and— and you’re still bleeding and that’s not good and —” you’re instantly at his side, fussing over him as he sighs at the ceiling. he saw this coming. “i wasn’t here to help you when you came in. i’m— i’m sorry.” you’re all solemn and he shrugs, though it hurts.

“yeah and you were puttin’ my daughter to sleep. m’a grown up remember?” he doesn’t mean to sound cross with you, and you both know that. it’s just the way he is, especially after losing.

“i know. it’s just… i don’t like seeing you like this.” the last part is a whisper. you were always sensitive. oddly, it was one of the things he liked about you. he was convinced it was also one of the things that made him a better person, more calm outside of boxing. he’d want to die if he had an outburst at you, the type he used to have. someone as sweet and sensitive doesn’t deserve it and even someone as damaged as he once was could see that.

“yeah…” he doesn’t really know what to respond, running a hand over his grown out buzzcut. beneath the dim lamp lighting of your room, the bruises along his toned biceps and chest stand out more. you furrow your brows, leaning down to press a soft kiss against one on his rib. he winces, and you soften your pout, pressing the gentlest kisses along his stomach and chest where the most part of the marks resided. rafe hums, large hand now cupping the back of your head as he watches you. you get a little too close to his waistband and he grimaces, shuffling his hips a little.

“hey uh, not all of me is injured. easy, alright?” he warns and you giggle— the tears that were in your eyes replaced by a look of relief that he was okay. he smirks warmly, tilting his head down at you as he cups your cheek. “yeah, that cheered you up huh?”

“mhm. can i make you feel better? i’ll be gentle.”

you bat your dolly eyes up at him, and he swipes a thumb along your bottom lip, his own tongue in his cheek.

“well m’not made of glass. do your worst, baby. play nurse.”

[planet-dusk]

tw//cnc, coercion

jisungie and coercion in a cnc roleplay scenario has been plaguing my mind for a while... he's all "please, baby? it hurts... i know you want it, too, right? i'll be quick.. promise"

"just the tip, please, baby. i promise. i love you. need you so much. you love me, too, right?"

which he immediately disobeys and slides right in, "why're you so wet, baby? you really wanted this, didn't you?"

"let me cum inside, babe. it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."

if u have anything to add i might pass away but no pressure. ily ! i'm glad you're back:)

maesie it's so good to see you,, i hope you're doing well! and leaving such a treat in my inbox? yum <33

🏷️ han jisung x fem!reader. cw ; cnc, free use, breeding, pet names: baby, babe, doll ( 692 w. )

minors dni. for mature audiences only !

jisung gets so desperate when he's needy, and he's just a tad too big for you to not feel the sting without any prep of his fingers; the thought alone makes you wet at the most inconvenient times. so you and jisung came to an agreement: you get to use each other, wherever, whenever. but that doesn't mean it isn't fun to push back a little. feed into his recklessness.

"not now, babe," you manoeuvrer between the spice rack and the stove with jisung clinging to your back. "i'm trying to make dinner here."

"but i need you, baby. i love you. you love me too, right? i need you so bad. please, it hurts," he pleads, bulge pressing thick and heavy against your ass. "just lemme grind against you for a second then, yeah? i'll be quick."

he lifts your skirt and grabs your hips, hungry, fingers making indents in the flesh. his leaking cock slides between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed clit with every rock of his hips.

"that's my girl, so good for me, fuck— i can feel you throbbing trough your panties, baby." he kisses your shoulder, his grip on your hips becoming more insistent. "let me put it in, please? i need to feel your pretty cunt around me. just the tip, okay?"

"sung, the food —"

"dinner can wait," he slides your panties down to your knees and you instinctively push your hips back. the gentle but demanding press of his hand between your shoulder blades lowers you over the kitchen counter. his cock prods at your hole, clumsily in his need, catching on the rim a few times.

the knot in your stomach tightens at the prospect of him entering you raw. it isn't the first time but you know how much the pretense of it riles him up.

"n-no sungie, wait, not without a condom..."

"it's just the tip, baby. i'll pull out, i promise. god, this tiny pussy," jisung groans when your walls give way slowly for the thick head of his cock. you whimper at the burn, caught between the counter and his hips with nowhere to go but take it.

"i know, doll, i know." he soothes you with a kiss to your nape. you gasp when he sinks in deeper, the sting bleeding into a dull throb when he hits that sweet spot nestled between your walls. "'m sorry, shit — this pussy's sucking me right in, baby, i can't help it. want me that bad, huh? you're such a liar."

"'m not," you shake your head, cunt clenching around him at the same time.

"i can feel how wet you are, baby, i know you need this too." his hips slam into yours and he wraps an arm around your chest to lift you up, his long curls tickling your ear. "let me cum inside, babe, it belongs in this pussy, doesn't it? you know that."

his other hand's on your clit now, and you won't last long this way. you're too far gone to give him a proper answer so you shake your head again, stammering a chorus of pleas and moans as your orgasm quickly approaches.

"then why're you creaming on my cock, baby? this tight fucking pussy's begging to be bred," jisung groans, "knows who she belongs to. do you, baby? c'mon, tell me."

he forces his cock as deep as he can and you shudder, holding onto the counter top for dear life as he fucks you towards the peak of oversensitivity.

"y-you," you start to ramble, "it's all yours, sungie-ah, please..."

jisung leaves sloppy kisses all over your neck and shoulder, mumbling filthy words of praise into your skin. "best pussy in the whole freakin' world, gonna fill you up so good, baby, until it's dripping down your legs..."

he cums with a final gasp of your name, then holds you close for a moment. "thank you. i love you," he whispers into your hair, and you squeal in surprise when he spins you around and drops to his knees in front of you.

jisung laughs and presses a kiss to your mound. "dessert first."

© planet-dusk do not copy, translate or repost my works.

[gghostwriter]

How Three Became One

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 1 || Part 3 Summary: In the aftermath of your failed make-up anniversary dinner, the third person in the relationship reaches out to you Trope: Angst w.c: 1.6k a/n: There is JJ slander in this (doing it for the plot and to hurt you all, like how I hurt myself in writing this.) I’m mostly writing follow ups now of my one shots and this is part of a part three series, i swear once i get all these follow ups done I’m going to hibernate for a bit to focus on my crime series. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The somber air inside the coffee shop threatens to stifle your already critical heart. Its’ clear window clouded from the cold. Dull shades of gray creeping from every corner of the room, draining life as it went, no matter the strain of each lighted lamp on the tables.

Your fingers pulled the sleeves lower, wanting to cover any sliver of skin, trying to fight off the chill, as if it doesn’t come from within. Why did you agree to this, you wondered for the nth time, what good would confronting your nemesis, the root of the problem—Spencer’s Achilles heel, bring?

Comfort? 

Not at all.

The truth? 

Maybe.

Closure?

Closure from what exactly?

The failed relationship still stuck in limbo, dreadfully waiting for its free fall or flight from the precipice it’s balancing on?

Spencer had given you space, an act you weren’t sure to be grateful for. Yes, it spoke about his gentleman sensibilities and respect to not hound you to talk but on the other hand, his presence in reminding you how much he cared was sorely missed. Couldn’t he have at least left you one voicemail, voice pleading and coated with sadness, to repeat over and over again? Or a singular flower tucked to your doorstep, wilting slowly each day for your eyes to lay on?

You wanted nothing but you wanted something.

It was a conundrum.

Late into the night, when the phone rang and when your steps hastened against the wooden floor, you almost wished it was him. Eyes unfocused, the name unregistered, you surely wished it was him, instead of Her. 

Her voice, blended with a slight static, was hesitant and soft as if she had encountered a wounded animal in need of her saving, tore through the paper-thin shield you’ve built around your bleeding, bruised heart. 

You wanted to lash out, to be quiet, and to agree to anything she asked for—anything to end the call immediately, but when she suggested to meet in this quaint hidden coffee shop, describing it’s freshly brewed coffee and tasteful pastries, a sob rose and lodged itself in your throat.

It was your spot.

A secret place in your neighborhood you discovered and happily shared with Spencer.

This once vibrant store, the backdrop of so many rose-tinted memories, turned ordinary—tainted with the truth that it was no longer just yours and his. It was also Hers. 

“Hi,” JJ softly greeted, occupying the seat in front of you. “Thank you for seeing me.”

Clearing your throat, the shred of what little courage you mustered leaving your body. “Yeah, uh, hi.”

Her blue eyes documented the lemon ginger tea in front of you, cooled and untouched. “I haven’t seen you in a while, how are you?”

“Fine, been doing good,” the darkness under your dull eyes painted a different picture, something that registered as her feminine shoulders drooped.

Lips pressed tightly together, she shifted in her leather worn bench, allowing the silence to further the divide between you both—the two female protagonists featured in Spencer Reid’s story.

“You don’t have to lie—”

“Right. A profiler, as if I could ever forget.”

“—Spence also isn’t doing well—”

You flinched, the sound of his name uttered out loud feeling like a thousand pounds dropping on your chest.

“—and just know that I’m here for the both of you, to clear up any misunderstandings. Let me help, ask me anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s why we’re here after all.”

Your eyes examined how her golden hair fell perfectly around her, creating a halo of perfection you have never felt once before. You were always the kid who worked hard to seem put together—a stack of paper stick achievements built to hide how ordinary you turned out to be. A woman made of dismantled almosts. 

“Can you tell me—” clearing your throat “—about you and him. Anything, as team members, friends, your first date—just anything I need to know. He’d always quickly summarize the context of you as his best friend, defender, confidant. Never letting anything beyond that.”

She nodded with a slight smile on her lips. “He’s always been a little brother. I, like everyone else in the team, wanted to protect and guide him. Joining the BAU at such a young age and enduring hardships that come with it—the kidnapping, the Dilaudid, his parent’s involvement in a cold case, losing Maeve, and prison—is too much for anybody to bear all on their own. We’ve always been close, being exposed to the darkness that comes with our job will do that for you but I’ve never seen him like that with you. He was so light and happy, almost as if the younger version of Spence came back to life—” she laughed before the brightness wiped away from her face. “—and now, like this with you, he looks afraid, like he might lose it all, lose you. I’ve seen him sad when we weren’t able to save Maeve but this time, this sadness that comes from the thought of you leaving, seems too deep to come out from. I’m afraid that he won’t make it and for that, I feel responsible.” 

The deep red nail polish on your fingers were leaving chipped specks all over the white table, like blood on a pure white snow. The cage around your devotion and love threatens to topple down, releasing you from indecision. It seemed unfair to persecute a man of Spencer’s caliber for his past and for your fear of never being enough. 

A shadow of a smile peeked from behind your curtain of self-preservation. Maybe all could be salvaged with a deep talk between one another and a schedule to a therapist—solo and couple. You loved him strongly enough to tackle those doubts and reverently wish to see the relationship through, forever if time allowed it to.

But the small voice in the back of your head echoed above the chimes of change and courage, it’s deep tone trying to pull you back to stagnancy and reality. What did she mean by that? Why would she feel that way?

“Responsible?” you whispered, heart beating loudly against your chest. Its’ sound parroting on your ear. “Why would you feel responsible?” 

“During the last case, being held at gun point—” the bewilderment in your eyes causing her to gasp. “—he never told you, did he?” 

The anticipation, anger, and dread enveloped you, as if you were about to combust at the drop off a hat. If you looked down to any piece of you, you’d think you were doused with gasoline and a small flicker of fire started at the tips of your shoes. “Tell me what? JJ, tell me what?”

She took a deep breath, trying to delay the inevitable truth. “During that time, the unsub wanted us to admit, confess a secret no one knew and wanted nobody to know and I—”

You raised your hands, trembling from realization, to unsuccessfully block the truth from spilling into the world. You didn’t want to hear it—needed to never hear it. “Stop. Please, stop.” 

Droplets of sadness mixed with the specs of chipped nail polish on the table, your tears creating tracks on your ashen cheeks. This was enough to break you—the shaky mirage of your strong self was nowhere to be found as sobs freely escaped from the depths of your ribs. 

You came here, filled with indecision which turned into hope before rapidly decaying to death.

The final nail in the coffin.

“You’re married, JJ. You have kids, how could—” you pressed your fingers tightly to your lips, nails digging into the soft flesh. “—I guess I always knew, huh. I may not be a profiler but my woman intuition has never steered me wrong. Not even once.”

She hung her head, the locks of halo you once considered pure and perfect shrouded around her like a thick veil of shame.

“So what now? What about Will and I? Does he even know?”

Her watery blue eyes, pleading with yours. “No, nothing changes. I love Will and my kids and it’s just a secret I want to take to my grave.”

A vicious hollow laugh bled out of you. “Are you even inlove with him? Your husband?” 

The lack of response was very telling. Her love for her chosen partner was shallow compared to the other. You briefly wondered if there was no kids in the picture, would she have even stayed? 

The thought was dashed repeatedly in your head. It wasn’t your problem to speculate. Mind made up, you refuse to be part of this convoluted love story any longer.

“That’s cruel of you. I wouldn’t even wish that on my worst enemy,” you slowly gathered your things and any strength that could take you home. The only place you’d allow yourself to unravel. “I think, I should go.”

“But—”

You mustered a small smile. “Thank you for being honest, JJ. I wish you the best with all of this. Tell Spencer, I’m sorry and please take care of him for me, will you?”

Quickly turning away from the mess that shredded your love life into bits no longer salvageable, the dull shades of gray once crawling from every corner of the store followed your trail. 

Another dismantled almost to add to your ever growing collection.

The colorful world you and Spencer built with the thought of forever turned to ash. 

Burnt from the truth.

The remains charred to multitudes of gray that signified the end. 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[villain-enthusiast]

TOUCH-STARVED HERO RAHH.

.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, actually,” the hero muttered from their sloppy position on the ground, though the oozing gash slicing across their torso and the fresh bruises circling their throat said otherwise.

The villain arched a brow, crouching down so they were eye level with the hero. “Do you think I’m dumb?”

The hero glowered at them. “Seems like you're deaf, actually. I said I’m fine,” they snapped, even as pain shuddered through their battered body. “Now if you could just get out of my way—,”

“Darling, please. You couldn’t stand up even if you tried, let alone walk yourself halfway across the city to your apartment.” The villain smirked at the hero’s deepening scowl, but the teasing flair didn't quite reach their eyes. “Let me do you a small favor while I’m here, at least.”

The hero bared their teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t need your stupid healing powers. You'll probably turn this into one of your idiotic bargains—," A harsh coughing fit cut them off, rattling their chest.

They tasted blood on their tongue. Fuck.

“Gosh, so prideful." The villain sighed, tilting their head. "Oh look at that, you're bleeding." They lifted a hand and ran a thumb over their hero's lips, wiping away a smattering of blood that had spilled from their mouth.

The hero's breath hitched at the villain's touch, the smallest, most delicate of noises escaping them before they could stop themselves.

The villain paused, their brow furrowing as their gaze took in every little movement and detail of the hero's involuntary response.

The hero's jaw tightened. Every muscle in their body screamed at them to get away, but they couldn't move. Or was it that they didn't want to move? "Villain, I swear—,"

Then the villain’s hand was cupping their cheek, and the hero melted.

A desperate whimper tore from their throat, their head lolling into the cool touch of the villain's palm as all the pain and exhaustion radiating through their body suddenly evaporated.

They closed their eyes, feeling their face begin to burn with shame.

"Oh, sweetheart," the villain murmured. Their other hand swept through the matted strands of the hero's hair, working through the tangles.

The hero had to bite down on their lip so that they didn't make another embarrassing noise. So gentle. The villain's touch was so, so gentle. So at odds to their earlier opponent's strangling grip and blinding punches, so contrasting to gaping loneliness and helplessness of coming home to no one, of having to painfully stitch themselves up day after day after day...

The villain brushed away a tear that the hero didn't realize had fallen.

"Hey, look at me," the villain said softly, nudging their chin up. The hero blinked at them, fighting back a sob. "You need to let me heal you, okay? You're losing a lot of blood."

The hero swallowed, barely processing the villain's words, their brain entirely occupied by the hand still on their face—or maybe it was just the blood loss. "Yeah," they managed, voice hoarse. It felt like their vocal chords were coated in tar.

"I'm going to do your stomach first," the villain noted. "I need both my hands for this, alright?"

The hero nodded, ignoring the inevitable panic that shot through them at the sudden absence of the villain's touch, which returned almost immediately on the deep laceration on their lower torso.

The hero cringed, bracing for some kind of torturous, painful mending, but the villain's powers were warm, soft, like honey in a cup of hot tea or a crackling fireplace during a winter storm. God, how many years had it been since they'd felt so comforted?

A whimper escaped the hero once more. They tensed. Jesus fucking christ.

The villain cracked a smile as they worked. "Don't worry, love. You're not the first person I've healed that enjoys the feeling." They brushed a palm over the wound, weaving the hero's flesh and skin back together. "This is gonna scar, but at least you'll live to see another day, hm?"

The hero scoffed weakly, still drunk on the villain's magic.

The villain swept their hands over the hero's body, feeling for more damage. "Gosh, Hero," they hummed, "you get yourself into so much trouble, do so much for this pitiful city, and for what?" They placed their hands on the hero's battered neck, soothing the inflammation. "When's the last time someone took care of you?" they asked quietly, but the question seemed more for themselves than for the hero.

Several heartbeats passed before the villain pulled away, finished with their work. The hero couldn't stop themselves from chasing their touch, nearly toppling over.

The villain caught them before they hit the ground, chuckling. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you?"

The hero felt a lump form in their throat at the thought of the villain leaving. I'm not gonna make it home. Not without Villain. They squeezed their eyes shut, swallowing their pride. "Please," they whispered. "Take me home. All I ask."

"Don't need to ask me twice." The villain swept the hero up into their arms, smirking at their indignant (and exhausted) glare. "You're not walking, sorry. You're getting all my love and special treatment today." They winked, as if they were joking.

But as the villain paced their way to the hero's apartment, and as the hero began to fall asleep in their arms, they both knew it wasn't a joke.

[miley1442111]

videos and violence- a.hotchner

summary: an unsub capturing you makes for a pretty interesting love confession

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: mention of reader being hurt, violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, regular criminal minds topics (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

not entirely proofread

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You knew you had to take in your surroundings, try to remember what had happened before, think. 

All you knew was that one moment, you were on your way home from work, and the next you had a bruising grip on the back of your head, leading you through the hallways of this dusty, dark, shithole. 

Suddenly, he stopped. He was a man, obviously, 5’7ish, buff build, dark clothing that doesn’t fit him correctly, strong, shoes a size too big, and a balaclava. “Get in there, bitch.” American accent, deep voice, but definitely grew up in Washington. There was a chance you were still in Washington.

He shoved you down the stairs, into a basement. When you came to, your head was bleeding and you’d definitely broken a few ribs. You just hoped that Aaron would find you. You tended to your wound as best you could and allowed yourself to rest, knowing more would be to come. You had to figure out why he wanted you. Was it because he knew you worked for the FBI, or were you just the closest woman to him? 

The ground was cold and hard, but it would do for one night. You hoped this would be one night. You hoped the team could solve it. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Where’s Agent Y/l/n?” Morgan asked, sitting beside Spencer in the briefing room. 

“Late,” Rossi grunted. 

“She’s never late,” Penelope argued. “She’s never been late a day in her life and she didn’t answer any of my phone calls this morning.”

Aaron Hotchner, your secure, steady, collected, and calm boss, began to sweat a little. The same thing had happened to him, you weren’t answering his calls, there was no ‘I got home safe’ text, and you didn’t answer your door when he knocked on it that morning. 

“I’m sure she’s just sick,” Rossi shot back, trying to put Penelope at ease. “She’s a big girl, you don’t need to baby her.” 

Aaron didn’t miss the way Rossi looked at him during that last part. He wasn’t babying you, he’d never do that. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make sure he got to see that beautiful smile everyday. 

“We have a case,” Aaron announced. “Right here in Washington.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

No matter how loud you screamed, he didn’t stop. He kept hitting, and punching, and hurting. By the time you walked back down to your basement, you were exhausted, bruised, and scared. You were slightly losing hope that Aaron and the team were going to find you, because he was ramping up his activity. He was more violent, more attentive to you, watched you more, got closer, stayed closer. And he wasn’t feeding you. He had no intention of keeping you alive. But he was filming you. You’d noticed the hundreds of cameras all over the room, all pointing to you. 

“What do you do for work?” he asked from the darkness of the top of the stairs. 

“Paperwork,” you lied. “FBI paperwork.”

“You work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s boring.”

“How much do you make?” 

“About 90 grand a year,” you offered. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a baker,” he answered. “I work in the cafe on 14th street.”

“I like that place,” you chuckled painfully. “Makes good bread. My boyfriend loves it.”

“You have a boyfriend?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but he’s out of state at the minute. Work stuff,” you lied. “What about you?”

“A girlfriend? No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands together. It’s like he watched a movie to find out how to be a villain, I mean, come on. “No one for me.”

“What’s your boyfriend's name?” he asked. 

Well, now or never. “Aaron Hotch,” you answered calmly. 

“And what is it that you love about Aaron?”

You could feel yourself tearing up, you knew he was about to take you for another torture session, and you didn’t know if it would be your last. There was a slim chance Aaron would see this, if he ever caught the guy. Now or never. “I love Aaron because he makes me feel safe. He smiles at me all the time which is nice because he doesn’t smile often. He knows everything about me, and he’s still here. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met, even though he puts on a brave face everyday. He cares deeply about the people around him, and he tries to hide the way he worries about people, but he can’t. He just cares too much. He’s wonderful, if I’m being honest. He always brings me home stuff from your bakery, the one on 14 the street, it’s our favourite date night tradition.” 

“Good, very good. I know exactly who you’re talking about,” he smirked. “I’ll make sure he gets this, and the videos of the torture.”

You grimaced. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“He takes women of all races, hair colours, eye colour, etc. He doesn’t keep them for more than three days, he videos the torture and sends it to us. He’s had three women so far-” Morgan thought out loud. 

“A new video just came in Hotch,” Penelope burst into the room, tears in her eyes. “I-It’s-”

“No!” Morgan and Spencer both jumped up, disbelief coating their features. Aaron stayed still, a wash of rage and terror rolling over him. You’d been gone for two days, they had one more to find you. 

“Give me the laptop, the rest of you don’t need to see this,” he ordered, taking the laptop out of her hands as she ran straight to Morgan for comfort. Rossi stopped him before he left. 

“You sure you want to see this? We all know how you feel about her,” Rossi whispered, silently offering himself to watch the videos. 

“I have to find her,” Aaron whispered, his voice breaking. “I need every angle I can get.”

Rossi nodded, allowing him on his way.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You’d survived another day, but the broken bones and bruises were starting to ache more and more. He’d gone to work, and you had 8 hours to try and get out, but the cameras. You just hoped he’d gotten cocky and sent it to the FBI before you were dead. It was your only chance. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“We have a lead,” Aaron announced, rushing to put his coat on. “The bakery, on 14th, that’s where he works.”

“Let’s move out people!” Morgan shouting, rallying the cops to follow the team. 

The video of you, broken, bruised, and battered made him feel physically sick. The way you spoke about him made his heart burst, the way you gave him the message gave him hope. He could still find you. 

The car ride felt long, too long; and getting the dick to confess felt too long too. Searching the building felt too long, and getting you into his arms felt too long. 

But when he rounded a corner and went down a set of stairs, there you were. Right in front of him. Lying in a heap on the floor. He rushed to your side. “Please, please,” he begged. “Open your eyes for me baby,” he pleaded as he looked for a pulse, it was faint but there. “Ambulance, now!” he shouted up at the officers who were following him. “Come on, open your eyes for me,” he whispered. 

Somehow his shaking and his words woke you up. You stared at him for a moment, confused and scared, and then it registered. He’d found you. The video had worked. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “You found me.” 

He nodded, a relieved smile on his face. “I’ll always find you,” he promised. “And I’ll never let this happen again.”

“You saw the video?” you asked, pulling yourself into his arms. 

“I saw the video sweetheart,” he nodded. “I know.”

“I love you,” you whispered as he hooked a hand under your legs and another under your back. 

“I love you too, more than anything,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[zyhkoo]

🌊 love.

fluff, f!civilian. inspired by @mostly-imagines ‘ fics, slightly ooc i think..

( how jason’s stone heart softens around you. pt 2 )

Love was a very foreign concept for Jason. He has read books, watched movies with the batgirls and watch the corny love shows Dick binges but nothing seems to him show him how to love.

Sure, there are some things he likes. He likes a few things, but nothing seems to be ‘love.’

Love? It was only for the naive and the vulnerable. He had seen too many people get hurt, including himself. Love makes a person weak, those feelings would lead to mistakes and pain. So he thought he was better off without it. How could he love something, when he doesn’t even love himself?

It was a snowy night, he was leaned over some random apartment’s wall holding over his wound. His hand was pressed against his side as he felt the blood seep between his fingers. He grits his teeth in pain, the cold nipping at skin.

It was a bad night, he had been caught off by a group of criminals who ambushed and destroyed his earbud for communication. He had no choice but to seek refuge, the nearest safe house was 30 minutes away and he couldn’t make it. As the footsteps grew closer, Jason tensed up, his hand instinctively going for the gun strapped to his hip. But before he could draw his weapon, the figure came into view, wrapped in winter clothes for warmth.

Jason's eyes narrowed, trying to make out the figure's features in the low light. He had no idea if this person was a friend or foe, and as he was in no condition to fight, he would need to be cautious.

“Uh, hi?” you said, concerned about the guy on your porch. You had just come home from an odd dinner date and things couldn’t just get weirder.

Jason's eyes softened as he heard the voice addressing him. Despite his usual cold demeanor, he didn't want to startle or scare you. After all, he was in no condition to fight right now. "Hey," he responded, his voice strained from the pain. "Sorry to bother you. I just... needed a place to rest for a bit."

You looked at him, he had a damaged red helmet over his head, brown jacket and a wounded side.. isn’t this the vigilante guy? You stepped closer, but not too close. “You’re hurt.” you said, as you then looked around then back to him “D-do you need an ambulance or..?”

Jason huffed weakly, "Nah, I'll be fine. It's just a scratch" he said, trying to play it off. However, he knew he needed to do something about the wound soon. "Do you, uh, mind if I come inside for a bit? I won't be a bother, I promise."

You slowly nodded “Yeah.. yeah of course let me help.” you said as you reached out to him. Jason nodded in appreciation. He winced slightly as you reached out, still feeling the pain from his wound, but he knew he couldn't refuse any help he could get.

He leaned on you for support as he slowly stood up, his legs feeling like jelly. "Thanks," he muttered quietly. "I owe ya one, doll." You propped him on your couch, you looked down at his bleeding wound. “I can help.. uh, I know a bit of nursing.” you said.

He looked up at you, his eyes studying you intently, trying to gauge your intentions. He didn't know you, but he had no other option at the moment.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Yeah, wait, let me find my first aid.” As you came back with the kit in your hand, you kneeled, lifting his shirt up to see the damage. As you looked at his wounded side, you could see the deep gash across his abdomen, with blood slowly seeping from the edges. It was a nasty wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with basic medical supplies.

Jason winced slightly as you touched his sides, hissing in pain. "It's not as bad as it looks." he muttered, trying to sound tough. You gave a skeptical look at his comment but continued to tend to his wound. As you pulled out some gauze and antiseptic, you couldn't help but notice the numerous scars that covered his stomach and chest.

Jason noticed your curious glances, and a flicker of unease passed through his eyes. He was used to the scars by now, but he still felt a sense of discomfort whenever someone would glance at them. He knew they were hard to ignore, but he preferred keeping them hidden whenever possible. He didn't like showing weakness, and the scars were a clear sign of his failures.

You continued on your work as you placed the antiseptic “This will sting.”

"Just do it," he said through clenched teeth. "I can handle it."

You proceeded to gently wipe the area around the wound with the antiseptic, making sure to clean out any dirt or debris that might have gotten inside. He tensed up, groaning slightly as the antiseptic stung his skin. You knew he tried to hide his discomfort.

“Sorry if I stared.” you said as you started to wrap the bandages, “That was rude of me.”

"It's fine," he said, his voice gruff as he spoke. "I know I'm not the prettiest sight to behold." you couldn't help but frown at his comment. There was more to him than just his scars, you thought. But you knew better than to say anything about it.

You wrapped the final knot as you dusted your hands, “I’m done.”

"Thanks," he tried to sit up straight, wincing slightly as he put pressure on his wound. You tried to make him sit “Woah woah, okay, don't push yourself.” He allowed you to gently push him back down onto the couch. He wasn't used to being told what to do, but he couldn't deny that he was still fairly weak from his injury.

"I'm fine," he muttered.

“What are you exactly?” you asked, brows furrowing. He paused for a bit, thinking on his answer " I'm a vigilante," he said, "I patrol the streets at night and take care of the bad guys."

“Do you… kill people?” He looked away, unable to meet your gaze. "Sometimes," he said quietly, his tone distant. "When there's no other choice."

"I don't enjoy it," he continued, "But sometimes violence is the only language criminals understand." You tell your name as he nodded in response, “Call me, Red Hood.” he said. You looked at him, pointing at his head “But that’s a helmet.” you said. He huffs “Well, I don’t exactly go around telling people my name sweetheart.”

Jason looked out the window, noting the late hour. He knew that he should get going— the night would not wait for him. He shifted on the couch, wincing slightly as he jostled his wounded side. "I should probably get going," he said, slowly getting up from the couch. Your eyed widened as you stood up as well “What? Are you sure?”

Jason nodded, gritting his teeth as he tried to stand up straight. He could already feel the pull of the stitches in his side, but he didn't want to worry you any more than he already had. "I'll be fine," he said, even though he was still somewhat wobbly on his feet. "I've had worse."

You watch him open your window and left to the snowy cold city. You walked towards your window, hands on the railings as you saw him leave, “Stay safe!” you yelled out. He turned slightly and nodded, giving you a small wave before disappearing into the shadows of the city.

About 2 days passed, somehow.. he felt this itch. He wanted to return the favor. It was a foreign feeling for him— he wasn't used to caring about anyone besides himself. But something about you just wouldn't leave his mind.

Like why does it even matter? You 're just some rando who treated his wounds.

…And so, on the third day, he decided to pay a visit to your apartment.

He didn’t know how to approach this situation, he landed on your fire escape. The steel slightly shook from his weight. He paused as he reached your window, peering through the glass with hesitance in his eyes. The blinds were closed, but he could see your silhouette from the light.

Jason tried to get a better view of you through the slits in the blinds. He wasn't sure why he was being so cautious— after all, he was the one who had decided to come here.

God this was so stupid.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the glass, signaling his presence. You were in the middle of making yourself a cup of tea when you heard a knock on the window. You were confused, and a little creeped out. Who would be knocking this late at night?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you walked towards the window and pulled the blind strings, white lenses widening at the sight of a figure standing on your fire escape. You let out a surprised noise as you saw him. You opened the window as you felt the cold air come in “Red Hood? Why are you here?”

Jason hopped into your apartment, his boots making a soft thud as he landed. He looked around for a moment, taking in the cozy space before focusing his gaze back on you. He shrugged, as if his presence here was no big deal. "Just thought I'd return the favor," he replied.

Your eyes darted around the room, “Er, by how?”

…Shit, he didn’t even think of what to return. Jason cursed under his breath, fuck why didn’t he thought this through?

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to come up with something quickly. “I could uh, keep an eye on you. Make sure no one bothers you.” he says “If I see a shady guy sneaking around your fire escape i’ll shoot em’”

Jason mentally facepalmed at his own words. That was stupid, he thought. You probably didn't need him lurking outside your window like some kind of oversized bodyguard. You looked at your table with your tea set and back to him “Do you want tea?” you invited.

He paused for a moment before nodding slightly, “Yeah.. yeah sounds nice.” he said as he took a seat.

You then remembered he wore a helmet, “Wait— I can just drink in another direction while you…” he takes off his helmet and saw him with a domino mask. He had a white streak on his hair and he looked younger than you expected, about your age actually. “…drink.”

"Yeah," he snorts, unable to hide a hint of amusement in his voice. "I can't exactly drink with a helmet on." You sat in front of him as you poured the warm tea in his cup. He picked up the cup, wrapping his fingers around the warm porcelain. The aroma of tea drifted up towards him, and he took a small sip, relishing the hot liquid as it warmed his chest.

“Are you really here to return the favor?” you asked, looking up at him. “Yeah, I am,” he replied, “I don’t like owing people favors, much less owing one to someone I just met.” he added, "But I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you're alright."

“I’m alright.” you replied “You don’t have to return the favor, you know.” Jason shakes his head "I'm a man of my word," he retorted, "I don't like leaving things unfinished."

He took another sip of his tea, the hot liquid giving him a moment to think. "Besides," he continued, "It's not like I have anything better to do." you raised your brow, “You probably do.” you said as you sipped your tea.

“Well, yeah maybe so. But still.” Jason leaned back slightly in his seat, swirling the tea in his cup as he tried to find the right words. He knew you were right— there was always something for him to do out there on the streets. “I’d rather be here, to be honest,” he darts his eyes away from yours.

You warmly flashed a smile “Sure, you can come over anytime.” he raised his brow, "You sure about that?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. "You don't even know my real name."

You hummed “True, but I don’t really have any company.”

Jason studied you for a moment, trying to gauge the sincerity in your words. It was hard for him to believe that someone would be so carefree about inviting a masked vigilante into their home. But there was something genuine in your expression, a loneliness that mirrored his own.

He took another sip of tea, mulling your words over. "What, no boyfriend?” he lets put an amused scoff. Your hand moved across your neck with a bitter expression. He knew that look all too well— the look of someone with a bitter past.

"Bad breakup?" he asked. You sighed as your eyes darted down, “Yeah, it was really messy.” you said, sipping some tea.

He didn't push you for more details, knowing that you would share only as much as you were comfortable with. Instead, he simply nodded, "I can imagine," he said quietly. “It happened two days ago actually, when you sat on my porch injured.”

Jeez, how he felt terrible.

"It was that recent?" he asked and you nodded. Jason felt guilt as he realized the timing of his visit. You had been dealing with a breakup when he had shown up randomly on your doorstep. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Bad timing, I guess." you chuckled “No, it’s fine. I guess it’s better than sulking to myself. I mean it's.. really weird but, hey.”

He let out a soft scoff, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Yeah, I guess I’m better company than crying alone in the dark.”

Over the next few days, He would find himself returning to your apartment. Even though he was very hesitant at first, he found himself unable to stay away. He tells himself… it was just a matter of returning a favor, but he knew there was more to it than that. Your apartment had become a sort of like haven for him, a place where he could let his guard down and be himself.

Every two nights, he would make his way through the city, cloaked in shadows until he reached your window, slipping through your window without a word and settling on your couch. Each time, he would sit in silence for a few moments, as if checking to see if he was welcome or if you would turn him away. But you always seemed to accept his presence without question, offering him a cup of tea or a light conversation.

Was it stupid and dangerous for the two of you? Yes. Does he still visit you anyway? Yes.

It was another night, and Jason found himself making his way towards your apartment once again. He had gotten used to this routine, this quiet comfort of slipping through your window and finding a place on your couch. As he landed on your fire escape, he took a moment to scan the area, making sure no one had followed him. Satisfied that he was alone, he let himself into your apartment, as usual.

He entered your kitchen in his usual stealthy manner, taking off his helmet and setting it on your table. As he did, he caught sight of you sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone.

You looked up at him, “You’re a day early.” you said. He gave a soft scoff, “Am I not welcome here anymore?” you shook your head, “No, no, no, you are.”

“Good,” he replied, taking a seat on the couch. “You know you shouldn’t treat other randos like this if I’m gone.” you rolled your eyes as you stood from your seat and shuffled in your cabinets, “I know, I’m not dumb.” you replied. "Just making sure,” shrugged, you could tell that he was teasing you a bit. “Wouldn’t want some sketchy guy taking advantage of your kind heart.”

"Oh, shut it,” you retorted, turning to look at him. “I’m not that easy to take advantage of.” Jason let out a huff “Oh really? Seems to me like you're letting me waltz into your home every other night without complaint.”

You let out a huff, trying not to let your frustration show. He had a point… but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

"That’s different,” you protested. "You’re not some random creep." Jason smirked, enjoying your reaction. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked up at you. "But you barely know me," he said, "For all you know, I could be some criminal mastermind, pretending to be a nice guy."

You took a box of macaroni and turned back to him with a glare, “Are you asking to get kicked out?” you don’t actually mean it, but he could be right. Jason knew you weren’t being serious, but the hint of truth in your words made him tense.

"No, I’m not asking to get kicked out,” he assured you, "I’m grateful for your hospitality, honest." You did a smug smile, “That’s what I thought.” you said as you started to cook some macaroni.

He huffed as he leaned back on the couch, watching you work. He couldn’t help but find your confidence amusing.. the way you weren’t afraid to stand up to him or tease him back.

He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable with his own relaxed behavior. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so at ease around you. Maybe it was the fact that you accepted him without question even though you shouldn’t, or maybe it was something else entirely. He couldn’t quite pin it down.

But.. either way, he admits he enjoys this.

Jason was used to bantering with his siblings, it came naturally to them. Here, it felt lighter. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

His next visit was odd, it was a different visit from the usual. Jason arrived slightly later than usual, a scowl on his face and a heavy air of frustration surrounding him. As he slipped through your window, you could immediately tell something was off. He didn’t offer his usual greeting, and his shoulders were tense, as if he was carrying a weight heavier than usual.

He didn’t even take his helmet off, you can’t help but be worried so you walked over to him, “Are you okay, Hood?” you asked, testing the waters. Jason’s eyes flicked up to look at you as you approached him. Yet he still felt cold.

He let out a scoff, his gaze somewhere else. “I’m fine,” he muttered. You took a cautious step closer to him, your eyes studying him carefully. "Something happened?" you asked quietly, keeping your voice gentle.

Your hand hovered in the air, unsure what to do. You didn’t want to piss him further, you don’t know what he was like when he was angry. He knew that he was giving off an intimidating aura, but part of him couldn’t help but wish you would reach out.

He let out another sigh, trying to reign in his temper. "You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me," he muttered. Okay, well now you felt a little relieved at his words. You weren’t sure how he would react if you pushed further, but you also knew he needed someone to talk to.

You sat in the couch beside him, your hand finally landing on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me, right?” you said softly. You could feel him tense up slightly, but he didn’t shrug you off.

He let out another sigh, the tension in his body slowly starting to uncoil. “It’s just family stuff,” he admitted, his voice quiet. Your eyes softened as your hand moved to his back, “You wanna talk about it?” you asked. Jason looked at you for a moment, his eyes fixed on your face. The sight of your soft, empathetic expression made his walls crumble slightly, and he found himself nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I do,” he said gruffly, setting his helmet down on the coffee table. He leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just family issues, nothing new. My siblings all drive me crazy, and everyone’s got their own drama going on. Can’t seem to catch a break.”

You pulled your legs up on the couch, “Big family?” you asked. He looked over at you, a hint of humor in his eyes. "Have you ever tried dealing with seven stubborn people under one roof?" you softly chuckled with a small smile, “Yeah, I get it.” Jason's lips tugged into a slight smile at your response, "Yeah, I figured you might.”

Your hand left his back, “You want tea?” he nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” It was oddly comforting, how you offered small acts of kindness without asking anything in return. He watched as you placed the tea set on the coffee table, the aroma of the tea starting to fill the room. He found himself strangely at ease, the tension from before slowly seeping away.

“Here you go.” you said as you handed him a cup. Jason accepted the cup of tea from you, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

You watched as he took a sip, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Feeling any better?" you asked, your voice gentle. Jason paused for a moment, taking another sip of tea before answering. For him, it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone who didn’t judge him or try to fix his problems.

"Yeah," he replied, "A bit. Talking about it helps, I guess." You softly smiled, “You can always talk to me Hood.”

Jason studied your face, noticing the way your soft smile and kind eyes almost made him want to spill all his deepest secrets. He couldn’t quite pin it down, but there was something about you that made him feel comfortable. Like he could trust you with his thoughts and feelings.

As he took another sip of tea, he found himself questioning whether he should reveal his real identity. It would certainly make things easier if you knew his real name… He placed the empty cup on the table, his mind still conflicted. It was a big step, revealing his identity to you. But something inside him urged him to take the risk.

“Jason’s fine.” he mumbles. You looked up at him with a curious glance, “What?”

"Forget the whole Red Hood thing,” he repeated, his voice a bit more clear this time. “You can just call me Jason.” You were stunned for a moment, you didn’t expect him to tell his name so soon— or at all for that matter. Jason could hear his own heartbeat in his chest as he waited for your reaction. Finally, you broke the silence “Then.. you can always talk to me, Jason.”

"Thanks," he replied quietly, the words holding a weight he couldn’t quite explain. "Really."

Over the next several weeks, Jason continued to find himself seeking out your company, the comfort of your presence soothing his troubled mind. Every time he dropped by, he found himself slowly letting down more and more of his walls. The rough exterior he wore like a protective suit was slowly replaced with a softer, more vulnerable one.

In all his years of being Red Hood, of being a vigilante, he had never allowed himself to get close to someone in that way.

But as he spent more time with you, he found himself slowly questioning that belief. The more he got to know you, the more he realized that maybe he was wrong. Maybe love wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. Maybe it was something that could actually make him feel alive for once.

Jason avoided the idea of love, convinced that it was something to be feared and avoided. He had witnessed the pain and heartbreak it could cause, both in his own life and in the lives of others.

And yet, as he got to know you better and better, he found himself gradually starting to question this belief. Your presence had begun to erode the walls he had built around his heart, revealing a vulnerable side of him that he had long thought dead.

He felt his hard stone heart soften around yours.

You opened the blinds on your window, looking at the snow up ahead. “I wonder when spring will come.” you commented. He leaned back in the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him. "Spring can't come soon enough," he muttered, his voice slightly gruff but lacking its usual edge. "I'm getting tired of freezing my ass off every night."

“Well, it’s already the start of the year.” you said.

Jason let out a scoff, his eyes drifting towards the calendar on your wall. Sure enough, the first month of the year was already marked off. "Yeah, and spring is like three months away," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's still a long way to go."

You sighed, “Right.” you said as you closed the blinds. Jason watched as you closed the blinds, shutting out the snowy landscape outside. The room seemed oddly devoid of color without the light filtering through the glass. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "At least the days are getting longer again," he pointed out, a hint of optimism in his voice. "The nights will get shorter eventually."

"Yeah, that's true," you agreed, "Soon we'll be complaining about how it's too hot instead of too cold."

"Yeah, and then we'll be wishing for winter again," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Never satisfied, are we?" You then remembered something, “Oh, by the way— look what I got for Christmas.” you pulled a box and opened the lead to reveal the record player. "A record player, huh?" he said, a "Who gave you that?"

“My dad,” you replied, “my mom gave me vinyls too.” you smiled as you pulled out a few of them. He leaned closer, peering at the titles you had pulled out. "Let me see..." he said, reaching out to take one of the records from your hand.

You handed him the record, and Jason carefully examined the album cover, running his fingers over the worn edges. He let out a soft scoff as he saw the cover. "Aerosmith, huh?" He said, ”I see your parents have good taste."

You chuckled at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, my dad's a big fan," you replied. "He's always saying that '70s and '80s rock is the best music." you took out some jazz records, “There's these too.”

"Jazz? Your parents really know what they're doing. Good taste in music, that's for sure." he said. You smiled, “I didn’t take you for a jazz guy.”

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he scoffs, his eyes flickering back to you. You took the record from his hands, “Do you want me to play it?” you asked.

“Go for it.” he replied.

You crouched as you carefully placed the record on the turntable, setting the needle gently down. The soft crackle of the vinyl filled the room before the smooth, melodious sounds of the jazz instrumental began to play. You stood back up and looked at him, “What do you think?” Jason listened to the music, a thoughtful expression on his face as he soaked in the mellow tones. "It's nice," he replied.

Your expression softens, “My parents loved dancing to this, I’m glad they gave it to me.” Jason looks at your expression, "You must have a lot of good memories with them.”

"I remember watching them dance to this in the living room. They were so in sync back then, like they were made for each other." Jason listens to your words and pauses for a bit, he then stands up. “Do you want to dance?”

You sheepishly smiled “Oh— no I’m good I don’t know how to dance.” Jason extends his hand, "Dancing isn't exactly rocket science, you know," he said. "I'm sure I can teach you a thing or two. I’ll take the lead.”

He wasn’t lying, he had a lot of experiences dancing in Bruce’s Galas. "C'mon," he extends his hand further, "It's easy, trust me. I've had plenty of practice." You were complementing to take his hand or not, you then gave up as you took his hand.

Jason smiled as you placed your hand in his. He gently pulled you closer to him, his other hand finding its way to your waist. "Just follow my lead," he instructed, his eyes darting to you.

The music continued to play in the background as Jason slowly began to move, his feet guiding you through the steps. He kept his grip on your waist light but firm, his body slightly brushing against yours with each step. “Like this?” you asked sheepishly. Jason nodded, "Yeah, just like that, doll.”

He moved a bit closer to you, adjusting the position of your other arm.

You huffed, “Last time I did this was like.. high school prom.” Jason huffs, finding your comment amusing. He twirled you around slightly, the movement fluid and elegant. "I'm honored that you're dancing with me instead of some prep school kid.” You stumbled slightly at the unexpected twirl, laughing as you clutched onto him for balance. "I think I prefer dancing with you over some sweaty teenager.”

He huffs, "And why's that?"

“Because I like you.” you simply said.

His heart lurched in his chest at your words, your casual confession sending a flutter through his entire body. "You do, huh?" he asked quietly. “Why would I lie?” you answered. Jason let out a huff, his expression softening as he looked at you. "I don’t know, people lie all the time,” he said, as he looked down. His grip on you grew firmer, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. "But you sound sincere enough."

The air between you felt thick, the music now almost background noise. Jason's eyes were locked with yours, his expression unreadable yet somehow more open than you'd ever seen before. He took a step closer, his chest now touching yours as he gently continued to move you both in time with the music.

Your head then moved to lean on his chest. He held you close, his heartbeat steady and strong under your touch. Slowly, he leaned his head down, his chin resting on the top of your head. It was a vulnerable gesture, one that somehow felt more intimate than the dancing.

The only sound in the room was the steady thump of his heart against your ear and the soft, soothing tones of the instrumentals.

This was love. The feeling of your body against his, the way you leaned on him so trustingly, the sound of his heartbeat in your ears. It all felt so... right. He held you close, his arms encircling your frame as he continued to move with you to the music, his heart full and conflicted.

But there was fear there too. Fear of losing this, of losing you. The thought of something happening to you, of losing this quiet moment filled him with dread. The final notes of the song faded, leaving the room in a silent, intimate embrace.

Jason continued to hold you against his chest, his chin still resting on the top of your head. He didn’t want to let go, his arms around you not loosening even slightly.

He swallowed hard, his voice a low murmur as he broke the silence. "You're a good dancer." you hummed against his chest, “Mm, thanks.” you responded.

🌊 part 2. please like and reblog!! discord server

[magniloquent-raven]

"Oh, good, you are alive." Eddie says as soon as Tommy opens his front door. He pushes his way into the house without waiting for a response, and leaves Tommy blinking at empty space.

"...Sure, come on in," he mutters.

"Would it kill you to answer your phone some time?" Eddie's standing in the living room, hands on his hips, looking at Tommy like he's expecting something.

And Tommy's still lingering in his own doorway, suddenly very aware of how ripe his PJs have gotten. "It's my day off." It's a lame excuse and he knows it. He turns away to shut the door so he won't have to look Eddie in the eye.

"It's been, like, three weeks, man."

Tommy sighs quietly. "Yeah, look, it's just..."

"Is this the part where you tell me you both love me equally and it isn't my fault mommy and daddy are getting divorced." He's being flippant, but there's anger there. Tension in his voice. Tommy's not sure if it's on his own behalf or Evan's. Either would be fair, probably.

No. No, it isn't. It's not fair. He doesn't get to storm in here and judge Tommy's life choices. It's not like he's happy with himself about this, he didn't want to break things off. It just. Didn't work out.

"We don't, Eddie."

"What?"

Tommy folds his arms across his chest. "Love you equally. He needs you more than I do."

"What happened to me being allowed to have more than one friend?"

You know what happened, Tommy wants to snap, wants to be the kind of person who gets so angry he breaks, bleeds the tension out. He wants to untangle the knot that's been tightening in his chest for weeks.

Instead he hunches his shoulders. "Nothing, you have plenty of friends. A whole station of them." Tommy bites the inside of his lip so hard he tastes iron, and his eyes fall shut for a moment while he collects himself. "I was trying to make things easier for you."

Eddie narrows his eyes. "Yeah, nothing easier than getting ghosted. In fact, I love it when people I care about suddenly stop talking to me."

"You know what I meant. You have to take his side."

"Oh, I am. Breaking up with him like that was stupid, and he's really hurt."

Tommy barely contains his wince.

"But you were my friend before you were his boyfriend." Eddie's expression shifts, not quite softening. "I'm not here to defend Buck's honour, I'm here because my friend isn't making good choices and I'm worried about him."

He cried that night three weeks ago. Held off until he'd made it home and then bawled like a child, curled up in the dark and not bothering to wipe the snot from his nose. He hasn't cried since. Not when he found one of Evan's sweaters shoved between the cushions on his couch. Not when a date night reminder he forgot to delete from his phone dinged three days ago. Every time he wakes up to nothing but empty lock-screen he feels a little more hollow thinking about all the texts he used to get in the middle of the night.

But he hasn't been crying about it. Until now.

He's not sure what it is exactly. Something about Eddie refusing to let Tommy stonewall him. Something about all the things he's gone through alone never mattering to anyone. Not enough to warrant more than courtesy comfort.

"Woah, hey, was it something I said?"

Tommy shakes his head, and wipes his cheek with the heel of his hand. "It's been a weird few weeks."

It has, is the thing. He used to be good at being alone. But six months of borrowed time was enough for him to be in a lot deeper than he thought. He doesn't just miss Evan he misses being invited to his family dinners, and hearing about life with the 118.

"How 'bout I drink your beer while you tell me about it."

"...Okay."