#future state dark detective when i fucking get you

[guard-en]

whatever. idgaf.

[littlefankingdom]

Instead of calling Bruce Wayne a capitalist, just say you have never read a Batman comic.

Or that you don't know words' meaning.

Bruce is a privileged white man, born rich and the heir to a fortune and a company. That doesn't make him a capitalist, that makes him a privileged man. Being a privileged rich man who owns a company in a capitalist society also doesn't make him a capitalist (it's the fucking meme again.) He has no power over this, he couldn't choose who he will be born as or where. He is a nepo baby, but that doesn't make him a capitalist.

The correct definition of a capitalist is: a person who uses their wealth to invest in trade and industry for profit in accordance with the principles of capitalism.

Bruce Wayne is literally famous for not doing that, because he invests his wealth in healthcare, housing, education... Literally anything Gotham needs and the gov cannot pay for. Literally nothing that he can make profit from. He doesn't care about profit AT ALL. Investing??? That's not in his vocabulary. And, btw, Bruce doesn't believe it should be a private company doing this. I'm going to use Future State: Dark Detective again, but in it, he states clearly that he thinks rich people should pay their big taxes instead of having lavishing lifestyles (he pays his, btw, and I'm sure he doesn't use the charity to pay less), and the gov should use this money to make everything better for others. And that's not the only time he says that stuff.

"But, if not capitalist, why Bruce keeps WE and money? Why doesn't he change the system?" For the latter, Bruce is one man, he cannot change the system on his own, but also, if he was able to change the evil capitalist way of the USA, the story would be over. It's just like how whatever he does, Gotham never gets better: the story would end. For the former, he keeps WE for two reasons. 1, it's his parents' legacy, that's explained multiple times, and he feels like he would disappoint them if he gives it up. 2, because he knows other rich people don't care and don't use their money for nobody but themselves, and if he gives WE up, all that money and power would end in the hands of an asshole. With him and his kids, he can trust that money to go to the people.

I don't have the energy to demonstrate again how Bruce hates rich people, just look up my posts about Bruce. I have used examples.

If you tell Bruce Wayne "The rich should be dry out, and their money should go to help people and make society better", he would say "Hell yes". That's that he CANONICALLY wants.

When you call Bruce Wayne capitalist, you are showing, at best, that you have so little reading comprehension skill that you cannot understand comic books, at worst, that you don't know shit about our economic and politic hellscape you lived in and the words you use.

Yes, this is because of that fucking panel from Boy Wonder where Ra's Al Ghul calls Bruce a capitalist dog.

[targetf0rce]

Transfering this from my twitter! NSFW Stoncy! I am working on making this a full on fic and not a drabble but im very burnt out rn Pairing: Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler Rating: Mature Tags: Smut, Fluff, Bottom Steve, Switch Jonathan, Top Nancy, Future fic Jonathan returns late to their flat, its dark outside while the city is still alive. He quietly creeps into their home because they tend to sleep early due to work.

He enters the main bedroom and finds steve laid on his back, naked on top of the sheets. His head in the pillow and he could make out the dopey, content look he gets on his face from getting fucked out.

Nancy is perched on him, her thighs bracketing Steve's, Jon can tell shes wearing a strap on and its buried deep in Steve due to the bulge of his abdomen and his hard dick that has been leaking all over his stomach. For long enough that its even dried there too. He can swear that he can see it on his chest too, and on Nancy.

She's not thrusting into it. Just holding it in him while he lazily smiles at her. Sometimes Steve got this way where he wanted to be full and warm on the inside. He was a massive suckler for cock-warming and would fall asleep like that, even if he halfheartedly complains about his arse aching afterwards.

Jonathan approached their bed, melting at the way Steve's sleepy eyes would shift to his and were filled with such emotion. He whined at him softly and reached his hands out towards him while Nancy giggled.

"Use your words, Steve." She chided lightly.

"Kiss, please?" He voiced softly and Jonathan couldn't refuse.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Steve's. Shuddering when his hands grabbed the collar of his shirt to guide him. Those soft plump lips parting as Jonathan kissed at him hungrily while he could feel Nance kissing at his shoulder and nape.

When he felt Steve trying to stick his tongue in his mouth he pulled away, their breathing laboured as they gazed at each other. Steve's eyes half lidded and his lips kiss swollen.

Steve whined for him desperately and tightened the hold on his collar

"Steve, you look tired." Jon urged softly.

"Want you too though."

Jonathan had to ignore the twitch of his dick at his words and shook his head.

"You've already got Nance. You can't have me too."

"'ve got a mouth." He stated with big puppy eyes. And honestly, he was weak for him. He couldn't help but crumple.

"I'm sure Steve can be a good boy for us both, can't you?"

He nodded happily at that, his smile growing a little as hands hovered around the fly of his jeans. Not undoing them yet until Jonathan stated he could, but waiting patiently.

"Okay. But I want you to pat my waist or thigh if you want me to pull out okay?"

Steve nodded, tenderly unbuttoning his jeans for him. His eyes on Jon's too detect any little change in his comfort and demeanour. He must have not found anything as he gently slipped down his boxers to free his cock and licked at the head softly. Jonathan couldn't help but moan at his tongue lapping at him, before slowly slipping his dick into his mouth. He rested a hand on the shaft to help guide it in for Steve and smiled softly at the guttural hum he made in contentment.

"Look at him, he's such a good boy, keeping us so well in him." Nancy cooed.

He couldn't miss the muffled moan and slow shut off his eyes at her praise. He knew Steve was content and safe. Happy and warm. Their boyfriend slowly drifting off to gentle praises and comforting touches. Their bodies hot and close in a warm intimacy. Steve gradually fell asleep with a Jonathan's dick down his throat and Nance's strap on in his ass.

Jonathan pulled out from his mouth and gently wiped his face and body clean with wipes for him. Taking care with cleaning up their baby boy.

Nancy stayed in him, but she shifted to lay on Steve. Her head resting in the crook of his neck, while Jonathan settled beside them both, snuggling up to Steve as Nancy wrapped an arm around him. Jon couldn't ask for more in his life, he's happy.

[anxious-witch]

Let's talk birthstones of the main four in Dead Boy Detectives (aka the ones that we know sun signs for) because man, idk if this was on purpose but they fit SO WELL.

Edit: Sorry for reposting, I realized og thing was so fucking long, so I separated it in two parts. This one is on Charles and Edwin's birthdstones

Let's start with Edwin, our resident Capricorn, whose birth stone is garnet. Dark red stone, that is coincidentally associated with the underworld.

"There are many different myths about the origins of garnet. One such myth suggests that the garnet originated with Persephone, the Greek goddess of sunshine. Persephone was captured by Hades, the god of the underworld. Before Hades released Persephone, he wanted to guarantee her return, so he gave her some pomegranate seeds. The word garnet comes from the Latin "granatus," which means seed. The next time you eat a pomegranate, you will notice the seeds' resemblance to garnet."

Like??? Goddamn?? Quite literally perfect for Edwin.

Furthermore, let look into garnets in their natural state. Garnets are very tough stone, and as it is fairly resistant to abrasion and chemical weathering, garnet is often found in sedimentary rocks or material that is highly weathered and where only the hardest materials have been left behind, like mineral sand dunes.

Quite literally only the toughest ones even survive being collected, in a very difficult environment. Despite that they are very beautiful and prized stones. But let's also take a look at their spiritual meaning.

Garnet cleanses and re-energises the chakras. It revitalises, purifies and balances energy, bringing serenity or passion as appropriate. Inspires love and devotion. Garnet balances the sex drive and alleviates emotional disharmony. It activates and strengthens the survival instinct, bringing courage and hope. Stimulates past-life recall. Sharpens perceptions of oneself and others. Garnet removes inhibitions and taboos. It opens the heart and bestows self-confidence.

I think we can EHEM, all agree that, given Edwin's journey is S1, especially centered around his sexuality that garnet is very fitting stone for him. Especially since it inspires love and devotion, and we see several characters quite literally change themselves due to the fact they fall for Edwin. Boy might be repressed, but he inspired such incredible amount of devotion, both romantic and platonic in people, that it's insane.

Also "removes inhibitions and taboos" could very well fit with his journey of accepting that being gay isn't a taboo. Extra interesting that his inhibits are fully lowered and he confesses his love for Charles while getting out of the underworld for the second time.

Now, onto Charles, a Taurus(and yes, I am aware some people still think he is an Aries and Crystal a Taurus, but I fully subscribe to Charles being a Taurus) whose birth stone is emerald. From a historical context, this is how emerald was described:

Emerald representing youth in the age of man, the power of this lush crystal stirs the soul like the heart of spring, symbolizing hope and the future, renewal and growth. It is a Seeker of Love and a Revealer of Truth, inspiring an ongoing search for meaning, justice, compassion and harmony.

Look at me and tell me this doesn't fit Charles. Representation of youth, not only because he died at 16, but because he seems to always carry that youthful optimism(yes, which is in part a mask, but I do believe he is genuinely a very positive person), also he definitely tries his best to search for meaning, justice, compassion and harmony. Like. This boy died trying to make things right, by fighting for justice because why should someone else suffer when he isn't, and they are so alike? He also has increidble amount of compassion and we see how he best tries to harmonize between Edwin and Crystal.

Now to look at a more spiritual layer of it.

Emerald is a life-affirming stone.  It opens the heart chakra and calms the emotions.  It provides inspiration, balance, wisdom, and patience.  It is said to promote friendship, peace, harmony, and domestic bliss by enabling the wearer to both give and receive unconditional love.  Because it promotes honesty and loyalty, it is also beneficial for business transactions and all types of partnerships.

Emerald fortifies the spirit and helps to overcome misfortune.  It brings a sense of joy, recovery, and rejuvenation to the downtrodden.  It cures claustrophobia and rage as it inspires a sense of wellbeing.  It brings subconscious thought to the forefront, and promotes self-awareness.

Life-affirming stone. There is something poetic about an emerald, who is life affirming, being paired up with garnet, who is connected with the unerworld, isn't it?

But also, a stone that helps overcome misfortunes, and help with rage, specifically. Poor Charles clearly had his fair share of misfortunes, and rage as well so he could use an emerald. But he seems to embody it's qualities very well, especially as he begins his healing journey. When he learn how to be more self aware and quells his rage, he truly does embody joy and rejuvenation to others around him.

[notsocharmingmagician]

Didn’t you mention in a post of yours a while back that you got an idea for an AU based off of Mimi’s whole slave labor thing? Just wondering if you expanded on it a bit, I think the concept was somewhat interesting.

Ohhhhhh. That one. Good ol’ AU #35.

I have expanded on it, but uh. It’s certainly a concept. This is gonna be a bit long, but I’ll summarize what I have of the plot.

(This is ofc spoilers for the au, but I’m not intending to turn it into a full-fledged fic in the foreseeable future so its ok)

Tw: kidnapping and Mimi being a terrible horrible person. This AU is literally inspired by Mimi enslaving people in game, so, it’s safe to say it gets rather dark. Mimi’s treatment of Dimentio, while mostly undetailed and left out of this summary, is Not Good and potentially disturbing. Be forewarned.

Basically, when Dimentio joins Count Bleck’s team shortly before the canon events of the game begin, Mimi is mesmerized by the mysterious masked man with a flashy, shiny outfit and sparkly, powerful magic. She quickly becomes obsessed with him despite his aloof nature and decides that she has to have him. Not like a boyfriend, no she wants to own him.

So she does what she usually does to get a man, though with a few tweaks in her strategy since he’s magical lad. When Nastasia sends her back to Merlee’s Mansion to defend the Pure Heart, she gets Dimentio to come with her. He does, just like he did for O’Chunks’ fight, but his plans to observe from the sidelines are quickly thwarted when Mimi grabs him by the hand and drags him deeper into the mansion.

Unknowingly he is brought over the threshold of Mimi’s curse upon the building, one that prevents anyone from leaving without her permission (or by breaking the curse by paying off a rubee debt). Dimentio picks up on the magic in the area, but cannot immediately teleport away because the curse warps the dimensional fabric of the area so people cannot escape through normal non-magical means.

This tampering with the dimensional fabric, something he is so familiar with in its natural state, is overwhelming on his magical senses and before he can even straighten out the jumbled mess he’s detecting all around him, Mimi’s already got cursed shackles locked around his wrists and is looping cursed chains around his body. No more magic. As much as Mimi loves his pretty sparkly magic, he will escape if he’s allowed to keep his powers, so that is a sacrifice that she must make.

Of course, Dimentio doesn’t let her continue his easily, but he is just bones and fabric and Mimi is literally made of metal, so he loses pretty miserably.

As the events of the game’s chapter 2 take place, Mimi keeps Dimentio hidden away elsewhere in the mansion. Some of the other captives see him, but dislike him since he doesn’t have to do any work and is Mimi’s favorite.

The closest he gets to freedom is when the heroes pay off their rubee debt (in this AU, the heroes spend MUCH longer traversing Gloam Valley, dealing with the trapped rooms in the front of the mansion, and collecting rubees to pay for information and are at the mansion nearly a week, so by this point Dimentio has been here for about a week and a half).

Mimi has confidently stowed Dimentio out of sight under the desk in the Rubee Savings and Loan room. He’s been effectively silenced and immobilized, and Mimi knows that no one will dare question her even if they do notice him down there. When the heroes come in, they are focused solely on paying off their debt and getting the fuck out of this place (after finding Merlee and the Pure Heart ofc). Mimi’s sudden (literal) explosion when the curse upon the mansion is broken is startling and unnerving enough that on top of everything else, they just leave the room and proceed with their quest. They don’t look around. They don’t go back for the other captives. They just proceed into the basement.

Dimentio hears all of this happen from beneath the desk. He hears them pay off the loan, hears Mimi exclaim that the curse is broken, hears Mimi explode. But the heroes don't know he’s there, and they leave him behind.

Mimi isn’t actually dead, as we all know, and a few minutes later her body pieces itself back together like a stomped-upon Dry Bones. And she. Is. Furious. She doesn’t have the time to reinstate the curse before her other captives escape, so she takes Dimentio, hides him in a trunk in her bedroom, and goes out to get revenge on the heroes. Once again, no one knows where he is (and no one really likes him anyway), so despite knowing that he is somewhere in the mansion, most of the other captives escape without freeing Dimentio.

Again, as we know, the heroes beat Mimi, restore rightful control of the mansion to Merlee, get the Pure Heart, and get out of there (in this AU the basement labrynth takes the majority of the day to get through, as it did when I first played the game smh). As seen in the next in-game cutscene at Castle Bleck, Mimi does not return to the castle immediately upon her defeat. Instead she has some things to take care of first.

The mansion is pretty much empty (the few captives left are skilled at avoiding Mimi so she doesn’t know they’re still there). Even Merlee left the place as soon as the heroes took the Pure Heart from her. So Mimi is free to gather her things before leaving. But she decides to not fully move out. All her clothes won’t fit in her closet at Castle Bleck, and she would have to keep Dimentio hidden at all times if she brought him back there, which would be no fun. So she decides to keep using the mansion in her spare time, which she’ll have a lot of now that she’s not busy fighting heroes for the time being.

She returns to Castle Bleck, flipping directly to her room where she deposits her trunk and goes to report to Nastasia and Count Bleck. Whenever she has free time, she simply takes the trunk back to the mansion until she’s needed. And everything is just swell for her.

Continued here!

[r6-unifiedlands]

A Random Sunshine Encounter

[Remington "Espion" Harmonics & Julien "Rook" Nizan]

Summary: It's finally Espion's first visit to Viperstrike's base to get her gadgets improved! But Mira's not the only one overseeing her.

A/N: I promised myself that I wouldn't write above 1k today

When she entered Rainbow’s Greece Base, Reth noticed that Viperstrike’s base was surprisingly more high-tech than the other groups' tech labs. It’s not really that surprising for her, though. Many of Rainbow’s engineers and technicians came in and out to develop and research more technologies to make future operations easier.

Mira had ordered her to bring in her gadgets—Her motion-detecting knives that had been fucked up by a Certain Japanese Geek during the device evaluation—to look for a solution to the fragile casing.

…she couldn’t help marveling at the inner lab. It felt like she was again back in her old workshop in Nighthaven.

Before the young operator managed to get her grubby hands all over the pieces of machinery, however, she felt a pair of gloved hands grab her shoulder firmly and put enough pressure downwards to stop her from moving around.

“Wha—”

“Enchanté, Espion!” The figure looming over her suddenly spoke in a cheery tone. His light French accent reminded him of Gustave’s existence, making her head snap upwards to see who that was.

Messy dark chocolate hair in undercut style, five o’clock shadow on his well-defined jawline, dark blue eyes that sparkled like an excited golden retriever, and a smile that could bring joy and warmth to this cruel and cold world.

Oh, Jesus Christ, that’s a handsome man.

Maybe it was because the room was too cold or she suddenly developed a fever, but one of them was definitely the reason why her face reddened like crazy with nervous soft chitters coming out of her lips. Both palms tried to hide her current state.

The man was absolutely beaming, patting her light blonde hair while pulling her close to his tall body. “Mira told me that you’ll be joining us today, so I asked her to help assist you.” His tone was as bright as his personality. “My name is Julien Nizan, but you can call me Rook. I hope we can be good acquaintances!”

It didn’t help that her brain was short-circuited from the overwhelming amount of affection that he gave her, still struggling to say something.

He finally let her go after a while, finally snapping her from the overloading mind state. She almost immediately took multiple steps away, her face still looking bright red.

The sunshine expression faded slightly, eyes reflecting a sense of worry. “Sorry, did I overwhelm you?”

As much as she wanted to deny it, she did feel overwhelmed by his whole greetings.

And as Harry said during her last therapy session; be honest with people, or they will not know what their mistakes are.

She nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact. “...Sorry…” She muttered softly.

“It’s alright, mon ami.” Julien didn’t move an inch while keeping his warm tone, like a vet talking to a scared animal. “Take your time, okay? I can get Mira or Doc for you if you’d like.”

“It’s.” She paused, taking several deep breaths. Calm down, Reth. “I’m okay. I was just. Surprised. I’m no good to affection.” Her voice softened, now more like a whisper. “Gustave is scary. Don’t want to see him.”

“He’s a doctor. He’d take care of you.”

“Last time I saw him, he scolded me for being too rough in training and kept escaping his clinic while in his care.”

The taller operator grinned. “You’re not the only one.” He gave a wink that made the younger operator’s heart jump to her throat.

What the fuck. Oh my god. She shouldn’t be like this!!!

Reth whined out loud. Her frustration came out. Not because of the kind gent, no.

There’s a first time for everything. And it was the first time she felt like there were butterflies in her stomach, tickling her abdomen and trying to make her smile.

Julien’s happiness was infectious. 

Currently, it’s infecting the young operator.

“Stop making me happy!!” She whined in protest, but her giggling state betrayed her.

“I can’t help it! Ton sourire est contagieux!”

The French accent that she’d once associated with Gustave’s fatherly scolding now made her heart thump like crazy. Julien’s bright and positive attitude cleared out the negative association of what had been imprinted in her mind.

Was that a bad thing? Nope!

“And what are you guys doing?”

Those fluffy feelings sunk back into the depths and managed to snap Reth out of the current state. Her cheeks were still tinted red from the blood rush.

Elena leaned on the doorframe of the lab entrance while crossing her arms, dark eyes glaring at Julien. “What did you do to our new recruit, cabrón? She’s a tomato now!”

Now it’s the French’s turn to be flustered, cheeks dusted in pink. “Non! I was introducing myself and accidentally got her overwhelmed a bit.”

The Spaniard turned her attention to Reth, raising her eyebrows. The American quickly nodded in response.

“Well,” Elena cracked her knuckles, and satisfying pops came out, “introduction’s over. Let’s get back to work, you two.”

[ariaadagio]

Thoughts about S6

This is gonna be a little all over the place. Just me rambling, really. 

So, I went up to LA to watch the show with some fandom friends on Friday. We had an absolute blast. I loved the finale season of the show. LOVED. I had some quibbles, of course, but none worth lingering on at length. I know the ending was controversial for some, but not for me. It worked on all levels. 

I didn’t have much love for the end of 5B (I know, y’all are probably shocked, given some of the things I’ve written re: Lucifer becoming God or godlike) which is why I never really chimed in on the post-5B discussion. I just couldn’t muster much enthusiasm about it, and I didn’t want to froth about or hate on it when other people were having fun and gushing. 

But my main issues at the time involved: Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup and unearned, and Chloe suddenly quitting the force to support Lucifer becoming God felt incredibly impulsive, perhaps almost out of character. 

S6 not only was perfect for me in its own right, it actually went back and fixed my S5B issues retrospectively. Lucifer suddenly wanting to become God felt poorly setup because it WAS poorly set up. On purpose. He never actually wanted to be God. It wasn’t his calling. And Chloe dropping her Detective job so suddenly WAS impulsive. On purpose. She really didn’t think that one through and ended up being bored out of her fucking mind without that job to engage her problem-solving brain. So ... kudos to the writers for that. I am so pleasantly surprised by that backtracking and never expected it.

As far as season 6 goes ... oh my gosh, what a brilliant roller coaster. Like @tarysande, I also spent a large portion of the season wondering what the evil trick was with Rory. I didn’t trust ANYTHING she said for many episodes. I kept waiting for a shoe to drop that never did. I really appreciate that Deckerstar did not get married—I never felt like a marriage was necessary for them given where they were in their life (a divorcee and a Devil who isn’t beholden to human constructs of law). I actively did not want a Deckerstar baby, but the show did it in a way I found absolutely lovely. Rather than using Rory as a magical “happily ever after” button as so many shows do, she was a tool to create massive character growth in Lucifer, and I am so on board with that. 

I cried during this season. Frequently. Which is something that rarely happens for me when watching or reading fiction. I am just ... so stupidly emotionally involved in these great characters. 

Some people may fixate on the separation between Lucifer and Chloe until her death, but to me ... it worked. Lucifer found a higher purpose and chose to fulfill it, to keep his promise to his daughter—to be a better father for Rory than his father was for him—and he does still ultimately get a “happily ever after” with his family and friends and dearest loved ones. It just starts a little later than planned. Chloe, meanwhile, gets to live her life knowing without doubt the love of her life is not only okay & pursuing his calling, he’s waiting for her on the flip side. They’ll have eternity together—ETERNITY, in exchange for a few decades apart. Bittersweet? Yes. Tragic? No. So I am okay with this. This is a level of certainty no real human ever gets—and as someone with zero certainty about the future whatsoever, I can’t express enough how much this foreknowledge alone would be a comfort in difficult times. It really resonates with me as a meaningful gift.

I do agree that there’s plenty of room for Lucifer to see Chloe without Rory’s knowledge, though I’m on the fence about how realistic this is. I think Dan called it, honestly. Having to watch and not participate is more torturous than not participating at all. And, as I said, he gets to see everybody eventually. He knows his daughter will understand—actively consents, even—and he knows their reunion will come.  He knows Chloe will come back to him, too, because he’s grown to trust and love her fully.

Along those lines, Lucifer showed amazing character development this year. Once this man figures out his feelings and commits, he is ALL IN. I was so proud of him, talking out his feelings, and saying I love you, and hugging people left and right. His goodbyes made me tear up, particularly the scene with Maze. Which. OMG. These two. That scene was a long time coming, and so heartfelt. i loved it. I also loved how comfortable in his own skin he finally seemed this season. He utilized his wings SO MUCH. And his devil face where appropriate. And there was zero angst about any of it.

Time travel is a trope that tends to break my brain, but ... I think Rory showing up is what enabled her own conception. Lucifer didn’t think he could have kids until he finds out he does in the future and then boom, suddenly he can conceive. He self-actualized working swimmers. I know this creates a chicken or the egg paradox—how could this loop ever even start if Rory hadn’t existed at least once on her own—buuut, I’ve definitely seen this trope used in other shows, such as Netflix’s Dark. So, imho, there was an added level to Lucifer’s sacrifice at the end—he wasn’t just trying to preserve his own epiphany via a promise to his daughter, he was actively choosing to save his daughter’s entire existence, and he was choosing to be different from his father.

People who think Lucifer was robbed of choice ... I beg to differ. For the reasons stated above, and also? He was the one who came up with the idea of returning to Hell. No one forced that on him. The only thing Rory did was speed up his time table. And I think there’s a beautiful kind of symmetry to the idea of him returning to Hell and choosing to reframe it as a place of healing, rather than eternal suffering. In a sense, he’s making his own Plan for himself. He’s defining his role in the universe: the Devil, not God. He’s defining his family: Chloe, Rory, Trixie, Dan, Maze, Eve, Linda, Amenadiel, Ella, and all the great friends he’s made. He’s defining his home: not a place, but where his heart is. For the first time in his life, the Devil decided who he is and what he wants to do with his life, instead of letting external forces do it for him.

And I fucking loved every minute of it.

A perfect ending for a long, thoughtful journey.

P.S. If you disagree with me, that’s fine. There’s no wrong way to interpret art and media. But please know I’m not really in the mindset for debate right now. I just want to live in my happy post-S6 bubble. I’d appreciate it if you let me :)

[oliviayamaoka]

The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)

Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!

Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!

It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.

One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.

Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.

Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.

Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.

Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.

“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.

“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.

“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.

“Who’s this?” He replied.

“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.

“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?

“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.

“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.

“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.

“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.

You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.

“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.

“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.

“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.

“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.

“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.

It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.

“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.

“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.

“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.

While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?

“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.

“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.

“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.

“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.

“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.

“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.

“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.

“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.

“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.

“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.

“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.

You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.

“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.

“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.

“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.

“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.

Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.

He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.

Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.

“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.

The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.

December 23rd, 1992

I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.

At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?

He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.

Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.

Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.

He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.

Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.

About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.

“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.

“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.

“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.

“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.

It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.

As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, tired.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.

“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.

“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.

“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.

“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.

“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.

“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.

“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.

You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.

“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.

“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.

“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.

“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.

“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.

“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.

“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.

“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.

You fought tears.

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.

“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.

“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.

“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.

“Go to hell.” You muttered.

“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.

“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.

“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.

You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.

[writing-in-april]

Georgia Peach

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer sees Reader eating a peach and goes a little crazy.

A/N: this was a long time coming- ive been writing this oneshot for forever and I finally finished it! The original prompt is from @imagining-in-the-margins and I also incorporated a request for a pearl necklace from @sunlight-moonrise This fic was also written for @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff so I could give them some gender neutral smut! Most of my fluff is gender neutral but until now I hadn’t dived into writing gender neutral smut. I’ll definitely be writing more in the future- I like writing stuff that is as inclusive as possible! There shouldn’t be any mistakes in terms of pronouns- I had a ton of people look at it, but if there is please message me!If you live in Georgia don’t forget to vote in the Georgia state runoff elections!

Warnings: Sub!Spencer, Topping from the bottom, Very slight food play, Face Fucking, Pearl necklace, Pubic sex (sorta), Unprotected sex

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.9k

I was pretty sure I was going to explode just from looking at Y/N. They weren’t doing anything that was infuriating, annoying, or even anything that most would consider sexual in nature. They had decided that a peach brought in by one of the Georgia detectives was the best way to relieve their parched mouth caused by the blistering heat. The mundane act of eating a peach combined with the deep v neck that adorned their figure was apparently enough to make my slacks uncomfortably tight.

Get it together Spencer.

My inner voice was slapping me upside the head repeatedly, trying in vain to break me out of the daydream I had found myself immersed in. I swept the sweat off of my brow while continuing to unabashedly stare at Y/N. I knew that I needed to draw my eyes away from Y/N and focus on the case file that was sitting on my lap. But, just as I was about to tear my eyes away from them they took a large bite of the delicate skin of the white peach causing juice to dribble down their chin.

I’m screwed.

Subtly was not a strong suit of mine. That became painfully obvious when my eyes widened to the max in an attempt to see every detail of the erotic picture I was painting in my mind. The picture became clearer in my mind as another bite was taken out of the supple fruit. The juice escaped their mouth again, however this time a new path was taken when the liquid fell past their chin. The drop of nectar slid down past the juncture of their collarbones, falling perfectly down the point of the v on their shirt, almost as if it was carefully planned and executed. My mind wandered further than I thought possible when images flashed before my eyes of Y/N covered in something different, but similarly sticky. I was so transfixed at the sight that I didn’t notice the coy smile being flashed my way from across the room.

“You alright Dr. Reid?” I could hear the coquettish voice but it sounded like it was 1000 miles away. Everything had become muffled, the only sound I could clearly hear was the thrumming of my heart beat in my ears. I gulped hard, trying and failing to distance myself from my thoughts.

A loud snap in front of my face from the culprit of my dirty thoughts cleared my mind just enough to refocus on the person in front of me. The visage of Y/N still had me in a haze of lust that I couldn’t shake but, I did find some strength within myself to respond, “Y-yeah I’m alright Y/N just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nnn-Nothing, don’t worry about it.” My tone had risen to a high pitch and that along with my stuttering instantly gave away that something was brewing in my head. And, Y/N was good at reading me, they’d always been able to pick out how I felt in a few sentences or less. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d picked up how turned on I was right away.

Yeah, I’m totally screwed.

It was now so silent you could hear a pin drop. I tried to slow down my breathing that had picked up some minutes ago due to the mounting tension in my trousers. Sadly, despite my efforts I could not calm down, my trousers still felt way too tight and now everything felt hot. My face was probably bright red right now from the burning heat coursing through my veins, which would just end up being another signal to Y/N that something was amiss.

I tugged at the edge of my collar trying another way to reduce tension in my body as now the skinny tie I wore felt too tight on my neck. Immediately my mind jumped away to- I wish their hand was on my neck.

During my efforts to ease the tension in my body I must have failed to notice the fact that Y/N was still staring at me. A shudder was sent down my spine when I finally peaked my eyes up from the hands that held the peach to their eyes which felt like they were boring into my thoughts and reading everything.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and never leave. There was no doubt in my mind Y/N had sensed my arousal by now and I’m pretty sure I looked even brighter than a cherry as I started to stumble out an apology. I couldn’t even get one full word out before they had set down the offending fruit and made their way over to me. The chair that I had been sitting in was a swivel chair which Y/N took full advantage of by spinning me around to face them. Their chest was bent over to come down to my sitting form but instead of focusing where their face was my eyes were firmly fixated again on the sliver of skin still glistening with the juice from the peach.

I just wanted to lick it off.

My mind had again been so lost in lust that I didn’t notice that they were now so close to me that I could feel their breath mixing with my own and all my mind was focused on was tasting the sweet nectar that I knew still sat on their tongue. Like a man possessed I tried to lean forward hungrily at Y/N to relieve the undeniable but silent tension we had created. However, suddenly my arm was being pulled out of the conference room by them leading me down the path to the archive room. The city we were stationed in for the case was definitely behind technologically, so much so that they still kept all their files on paper. The old files from cold or closed cases were then schlepped into this forgotten archive room that I was being led to like a lost puppy by Y/N.

I stumbled in after Y/N into the archive room that was pitch black. They dropped their hold on my hand as soon as the door shut behind me making me grope around in the dark looking for some guidance. I heard the distinctive click and their skin was then illuminated by the glow of the singular lightbulb that hung in the center of the small room that Y/N turned on.

“Do you want this Spencer?” They said while strutting over slowly to me, I apprehend the offer of being able to back out but it was an offer I would definitely not be taking. As soon as my head nodded in agreement their mouth was on mine in the most blissful kiss I had ever had the pleasure of taking part in.

The taste of our tongues intermingling was overwhelmingly peach as I was finally able to get a taste of Y/N. Their movements were much more calculated compared to my sloppy desperate attempt to control the kiss. With practiced ease they dominated and I willfully surrendered to whatever Y/N wanted me to do to them. A shudder came into my bones as Y/N pressed me up into the nearest walland then untucked my shirt to run teasing little circles with their left hand over my hip bones.

The kiss was cut way too short in my opinion as they released my lips and then teasingly put their thumb into my mouth. I swirled my lips around their thumb with an intense pout, I tried to look as pitiful as possible, trying to coax them to stay right there with me. Unfortunately they pulled away from me altogether and then sauntered over to where the short filing cabinets were sat in the room, making my pout deepen further then I thought possible .

“Aww- don’t pout you’ll get what you want.” They said before leaving me, the mocking tone in their voice only making me pout harder. Any complaint I had  died in my throat when they pushed their pants and underwear down swiftly. They obviously had a better understanding of the fact that this tryst had to go quickly- and hopefully quietly. The closest filing cabinet to Y/N then became a prop for them to balance so they could bend over seductively. And with a simple crook of their finger I was over behind them ready to service them the best I could. My pants undone and pulled down enough to pull my cock out, jerking myself slightly so I was fully hard and ready to wrap them around me.

Wait. Was this really happening?

I questioned myself as I pushed into them from behind slowly wanting to savor every moment I had with Y/N wrapped around me and- also to also convince myself that this wasn’t a wild figment of my imagination. However, my long drawn out thrust was cut short by Y/N pushing their hips back against me taking me all the way down to the hilt. As soon as I was fully sheathed inside of them I started to rock my hips into theirs with little whimpers falling from my lips. If I had been in a different state of mind, one that wasn’t desperately trying to seek release, I would have probably flushed red in embarrassment at the noises I was making.

“Oh! Good Boy, Spencer.” They groaned out as I picked up the pace, my hands then briefly left their hips to pull them back so their back was flush against mine. The change in angle of my thrusts seemingly made Y/N’s pleasure skyrocket, the praises that they had been giving out to me being muddled down into moans that they muffled with their hand. I could tell their release was close when they let their head drop backwards into the crook of my neck and began to meet my thrusts vigorously.

A deep guttural groan came out of my chest as Y/N wound their other arm around behind them to tug on my hair as they came to their release. Pure bliss fell across Y/N’s face along with a lazy smile while they rode out the waves of their release. I kept rocking my hips forward to prolong their pleasure but my own release was beginning to brew within me.

Y/N reached behind to rest their hands on top of mine, they had been gripping into the sides of their hips roughly enough that there were sure to be bruises. They had me pull out, I almost thought they weren’t going to let me finish and began to beg with a long drawn out whine. Y/N flashed me another one of their devilish smirks, no doubt in response to my whimpers. Another pathetic beg slipped past my lips before my mind went completely blank as soon as they dropped to their knees.

“Fuck- Spencer I want you to fuck my face.” A sharp and sudden groan tore through me at their words, I swear Y/N was going to be the death of me. I bobbed my head up and down nodding as quick as I could, probably a little too eagerly but, I couldn’t find it within myself to care. “Like I said- you’ll get what you want.”

Y/N then spit in their hand and started to jerk me off slightly- I could honestly cum like this and be completely satisfied. But, then they moved forward and licked up the length of my shaft before slightly sucking on my tip.

The feeling of their mouth just enveloping my tip made me feel like I had died and gone to heaven.

Holy shit this was really happening.

A choked moan started to fall from my mouth before I quickly tried to stifle it by biting into my fist. My other hand was manipulated by Y/N to rest at the back of their head, a nonverbal queue to let me know I could start doing what they wanted and fuck their face.

The thrusts I started off with were quite soft and shallow, even though they had requested that I do this to them I still never wanted to hurt them.

I almost pulled them off of me when I heard a soft gagging as the tip of my dick hit the back of their throat, but they held their own throat down on me making a high pitched whine that didn’t sound like it could come from me came falling from my lips.

After getting the chance to fuck Y/N and now their mouth was around me, I was going to finish embarrassingly quickly. My thrusts started to falter, I could feel my release in the base of my spine, threatening to spill at any moment.

“W-where can I-” I tried to stutter out before finishing, though I failed miserably, my approaching orgasm stifling the words.

Luckily, Y/N understood perfectly and pulled off of me to answer, “I want you to cum on me my chest, face, neck- wherever you want.” A deep seated groan rumbled through my chest at their words while they jerked my length. Y/N worked kisses up my thighs bringing me teetering on the edge about to fall into a pool of euphoria. When they pressed a kiss to the tip of my cock I fell into my orgasm and became blinded by the pleasure. I was fortunately still able to keep my eyes open to see Y/N get covered with the fruits of their labor. It was a filthy sight that made my eyes widen and my pupils blow wider then they had ever been before.

A few moments passed as we both caught our breath, each for different reasons. My gaze was still fixated on how my release had fallen over Y/N. Specifically I fixated on the spot where some had fallen down their chest right down where the v of their shirt had been before- right where the juice had slid down.

“Well I should’ve thought this through more… I don’t have anything to clean myself up.” Y/N gasped out in giggles breaking out of the dominant role that they had fallen into earlier which broke me out of the daze I had been in. I looked at them with endearment, I loved every facet of Y/N’s personality.

“I-I’ll be right back I’ll find something.” I stuttered out while basically stumbling back into my clothes. Before tripping out of the room to try and locate some tissues I did my best to make myself appear presentable again, taming my curls, smoothing out my shirt, and tucking it back into my slacks.

“You forgot something.” Y/N called out to me just as I was about to scurry out. Still naked and unclean, they held my belt up by one finger and had a teasing little smile on their face that was nothing but trouble. I walked up and quickly snatched the belt back and began to loop them through my slacks. My head was tilted down, suddenly growing shy at the sight of Y/N even though I had been the one to make them look so depraved in the first place.

“Now come on Spencer, stop being so shy. You weren’t shy 2 minutes ago.” The way they bit their lip at the end of the teasing remark made me want to get down on my knees and worship them. Sadly, work was calling both of our names pulling us out of our own little world that we had created in this dark, small- and slightly dusty archive room.

I gained back a little bit of my lost confidence and moved forward to envelop Y/N in a kiss, one that was much softer than our previous ones. The taste of the kiss still felt like a drop of golden sun from the peaches, albeit tainted with something a little more salty now.

“You taste good.” I said with a shy but knowing smirk before biting my lip. “You look good too but- you also look like trouble.”

“Yes, but you quite like trouble” They remarked in amusement before shoving me closer to the door, “Go on now, I can't stay naked covered in your cum for the rest of the day.”

“It would be a pretty sight though.” I said cheekily, slipping out of the room quickly to avoid one of their shoes being thrown at me in fake annoyance. As I left the room to hunt down something to clean Y/N up so we could go about the rest of our work day I came to a conclusion.

I quite enjoy trouble- and peaches.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation. 

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)

OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...) 

A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.

“We can’t go on like this anymore”

He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.

“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling. 

“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.

“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.

The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand. 

“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone. 

“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.

Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle. 

“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking. 

Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.

“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.

“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound. 

“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.

Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night. 

---

The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store. 

The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;

“One boulevardier“ 

He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Excuse me” 

You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.

“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?

He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.

“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”

Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.

“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.” 

“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.

He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him. 

“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips. 

“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.

“Former detective” he stated simply. 

Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink. 

“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.

“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”

Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine. 

“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby. 

“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”

He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests. 

“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning. 

“A job and you.” 

His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all. 

“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar. 

“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.

“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom. 

“W-wait,,, what are you-”

Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment. 

Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you. 

“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing. 

You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.  Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him. 

“Already this wet, babygirl?” 

He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles. 

“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist. 

“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Turn around”

His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock. 

In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting. 

Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy. 

“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you. 

Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.

“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls. 

“Whatever you say”

He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots. 

The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release. 

“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.

“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?” 

A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed. 

“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak. 

In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”. 

“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable. 

“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you. 

[ddarker-dreams]

That last ask got me thinking! How would the bucci gang react to meeting SR reader's family? Not all of them but like a visiting grandparent(who is likely very unaware their precious grandchild is working with the mob to pay off awful debts-which reader would like to keep that way), but like who's falling all over themselves to impress said relative, who would be subtly trying to get their blessing to date reader, what shenanigans would reader the gang go to keep this person in the dark??

ohhh what an interesting situation!!! some of them would definitely handle it better than others...

Here’s the general concept! Reader’s grandparents are coming to pay their granddaughter a visit in Naples, under the impression she’s been studying there the past few years. Reader has asked some of the members of her team to further validate her story. I imagine everyone as trying to actively court Reader to some extent during this. :’)))

Bruno Bucciarati; 

Bruno is a revered member of the community. Any of the troublesome details of his Passione involvements would be lost in translation, so you figured he’s a safe bet. He’s also the member who is most familiar with your situation. While he speaks under the pretense of being professional, he would love to have that connection with your family for... any future possibilities. Marriage possibilities. 

He spots you in a mild state of panic, and boasting the compassionate heart he has, is led to ask if you want to talk to him about it. When you explain that some of your foreign family is coming to visit, he can immediately read between the lines. You need to play this part perfectly. He’ll offer to accompany you on one of his less busier days, willing to do whatever it is that’d help. 

The language barrier doesn’t matter too much! Bruno is still a gentlemen. Opening doors for them, pulling out their chairs, offering to pay for any of your meals... he’s very kind. Your grandparents are going to be quite fond of him by the end of your day together. All according to his plan. 

Unfortunately for you, Bruno is going to be offering lots of praise that he fully expects you to translate. It’s a bit embarrassing how genuine he’s being. Speaking about how hard a worker you are, how nothing gets in your way, stuff like that. Your face is on fire as you translate the heartfelt compliments. You end up toning them down a bit for your sake. 

“[First] is one of the most reliable people I know. You should take pride in having helped bring up someone like her. I promise I’ll continue to look after her, you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Ahh... Bucciarati, do I really need to tell them that...?” 

Giorno Giovanna;

He speaks some English! Giorno did well in his classes at school, so he can understand the basics. Having a knowledge of multiple languages in his position is also a benefit, so he never fully stopped studying it. Though he’d prefer not to mess up any of the pronunciation in front of you. He’ll be practicing in secret as not to embarrass himself, and definitely thinks this is a great opportunity to get closer to you. It’s a shame he can’t take full advantage of it, but he’s going to try to. 

Giorno hasn’t really had any positive family interactions, but he’s still good with people. Unfortunately, in his new position, he’s extremely busy. He still tries to make time for you when he can, but won’t be able to hang out with the three of you as much as he’d like to. He does find the time to come to the airport with you, under the pretense that a lot of shady business goes on there. He wouldn’t want your family being scammed. Don’t ask how he knows about this...

The entire car ride to their hotel will be filled with pleasant conversation. Giorno is a natural at reading the room, and backs your story up to perfection. Any potential discrepancies are covered up with ease. He came in for a clean save at least once or twice when you made a mistake, and you couldn’t thank him enough after.

Giorno isn’t going to want to pry into your personal life, but would be highly amused over any stories they tell him. Even though it’s only a forty minute drive, he enjoyed his time a lot more than he expected to, learning some new things about you in the process. You’re a bit frazzled over the person who is technically your boss (even if he’s not big on formalities...) knowing about your embarrassing childhood stories. He finds it endearing. :’)

He’s gonna bring it up afterwards during a casual discussion, sporting a little devious smile. 

“So, [First], do you want to tell me about that time you got stuck in a swing set again? It seems quite unlike you.” 

“God... I can’t believe they told you that. I was hoping you wouldn’t understand it well.”  

Guido Mista;

Oh no.

You’re going to have to explain to him that a few changes will need to occur if he is to meet your grandparents. For one, he needs to take a shower. Two, he needs something that at least covers his midriff. If there conditions are met, you’ll allow it. He is not missing out on this opportunity to win you over, so he’s surprisingly amiable to these conditions, ready to do his best to make a good impression. You’ve never see him so agreeable.

You do have to keep reminding him of the story that you’re sticking to. Mista makes a few mistakes here and there, but manages to laugh it off. Since you’re going to be translating a majority of his sentences it’s not a big deal. That doesn’t mean he won’t at least try to say a few words in English... results varying. 

The most difficult part is trying to ignore the Pistols, who are swarming around in excitement. They keep speaking to your grandparents like they can hear them. Asking for embarrassing stories, to know about your past partners, or for any cute childhood photos of you. Mista struggles to keep a composed look when all this is happening.  

“Say, [First]. Your grandparents... they aren’t Stand users, are they?”

“No, Mista. My grandparents aren’t Stand users.” 

To be honest, you weren’t too sure if Mista tagging along for some sightseeing would be the best idea. It goes a lot better than you expected. Some of his comments that you translate actually get your grandparents laughing! What a miracle, he’s gonna be grinning ear to ear. Mista is just a lovable guy. 

He is going to 100% try and sneak in a question about your relationship status when you’re not paying attention. Mista has to make sure you’re still on the market. B) 

Pannacotta Fugo; 

He’s actually your go to for this situation. It couldn’t be a better setup. Fugo is intelligent, can speak English the most fluently out of everyone in your team, and would be a big help for sightseeing. As soon as he heard about your grandparents visiting, he knew it was only a matter of time until you came to him for help. At first, he was intent on politely turning you down, but god... how can he? You’re too cute, looking at him like that, saying you need his help. Fuck, he’s so whipped for you lmao. 

Fugo is the most anxious about it. What if your grandparents don’t like him? What if he accidentally says something offensive? Or even worse, what if he blows your cover, and you hate him forever? He’s gonna being shutting himself in his room, refreshing his English nonstop. You have to admire his dedication. 

When the time finally comes, it goes a lot smoother than he anticipated. There’s no humiliating himself in front of you like he feared. Fugo is a bit stiff at first, but with your help, begins to ease up. He’s an amazing tour guide! Fugo knows the best places to go, what times they’ll be busy, the historical and cultural significance of every place, etc. When he starts talking about trivia you can tell he’s in his element. 

It’s going so well. That is, until your grandma says you have such a nice boyfriend. Fugo’s entire face goes beet red. If only. 

“A-ah, Mrs. [Last], we’re not dating, actually.” 

“We aren’t, but... you’re right. Fugo is amazing, isn’t he? There’s nothing he can’t do. I appreciate him a lot.” 

On that day, Pannacotta Fugo’s soul ascended. He legitimately cannot stop thinking about this. For you, his crush of many years, to compliment him so genuinely? Fugo.exe has stopped responding .

Narancia Ghirga;

He kinda invites himself along? Narancia is giving himself a bunch of pep talks, thinking of all the things he can say. His train of thought is that if he speaks English well, it’ll impress you! There’s nothing he wants more in this world than for you to think he’s cool and reliable. The problem is that most of his knowledge of English is only from music. So he’s more familiar with vulgarities than anything else. 

You’re understandably hesitant to allow Narancia to tag along. Then he makes the solid point to you that Aerosmith’s radar would come in handy, detecting any potential threats. Narancia is going to be sporting the brightest smile when you concede and say he can come with you, practically vibrating with excitement. He promises that you won’t regret picking him. 

The place he picks to go is a local pizzeria. In his opinion, the pizza you’ve spoken of back home is an insult to humanity. Naples style is the only way to go. He insists on letting your grandparents try “real” pizza, as opposed to whatever your country has. 

Narancia reminiscences about a lot of your past stories together. Nothing that has incriminating undertones, just casual stuff from your years of knowing one another. You’re almost surprised by how he’s remembered all of this. He can’t help it, any time spent with you has been forever imprinted into his mind. 

“So, there was this one time we spent hours looking for [First]’s lost wallet. Come to find out that she just left it in the glove department after we spent the entire evening searching for it. And then--” 

“Narancia, do you have to bring that up? It’s so embarrassing...” 

Leone Abbacchio; 

You’re going to have to pull out some incredible arguments to get him to come along with you. He’s going to say no before you even get the chance to ask, already sensing what it is you’re going to say. So be ready to break out some Ace Attorney level stuff or it’s no dice. He’s already offering special treatment by even letting you try to convince him, anyone else would’ve been shooed away. He has a big soft spot for you :’)...

The most you’ll get him to agree to is one dinner. That’s it. Abbacchio has a lot of baggage with him, and doesn’t think highly of himself. To be honest he’s wondering why you’re even relying on him here. It’s strange, since he appreciates the trust you must have for him, but also doesn’t think it’s deserved. 

He cleans up well. Abbacchio is going to take this occasion very seriously. For most of the dinner he listens to you speaking, rarely offering input unless he finds it necessary. When he does speak he’s more polite than you’ve ever heard him though. You almost wondered if it was Abbacchio who was speaking, and not some imposter. So he is capable of having manners when he wants to... 

He’ll also pay for the dinner, much to your surprise. Will insist on it even. Abbacchio tells you to let them order whatever desserts/wine they want. He’s pulling all the stops to make a good impression. 

“Abba, you really didn’t have to do all that. Please at least let me reimburse some of it.” 

“Would you stop bringing it up already...? They’re your family, so it’s only natural I’d take care of them.” 

Trish Una; 

As the only non Passione member on this list, Trish is an excellent choice! Her singing career is really starting to take off. Your family will find her to be impressive. You’ll have to think of a story for how the two of you are familiar with one another. You can’t very well say you used to be her bodyguard protecting her from assassins lmao.  

Since she needs to travel a lot to different venues for her career, Trish’s English is steadily improving. She’ll normally text you for help if anything is particularly challenging. The biggest challenge would be aligning your schedules together, at the same time they’re visiting. Trish has a way of making time for you. 

One of the things Trish loves to do is give gifts from her travels. So she’ll show up with some little souvenirs for them. It’s a very heartfelt gesture that they appreciate, and she even gives you a gift or two. The queen of good impressions. 

Throughout the years, Trish has managed to gather a sizeable collection of selfies from when you’ve spent time together. At some of her albums release parties, trips to the beach, the times you’ve travelled together. She’s going to have a lot of fun going through her hundreds of photos of you and showing them. 

“Trish, you almost need a SD card for all of these. Just how many pictures of us do you have?”

“Oh, this is just the beginning, [First]. I have a whole other album of when we went to Milan last spring.” 

[0risha]

affiliation.

PAIRING : gojo x fem!reader

SUMMARY : due to the actions of your now ex-lover, getou suguru, your future of becoming a sorcerer is no more and now it's time to say your goodbyes.

TAGS : angst, comfort, unrequited pining, a curse word or two, contains slight manga spoilers so proceed with caution. reader is described as a female?? reader has curly hair

NOTES : this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, hope you enjoy!

Terminated. Terminated? Your first reaction is to cackle, to laugh at the faces that stare right back at you with leering eyes. But the only thing you can choke out is an, "you can’t be serious?” 

Your voice raises several octaves higher than normal and your face is etched with the expression of pure, refined disbelief. Choosing to scan the faces that sit at the circular table shrouded in a low cloud of darkness —which sets the mood in an eerie cinematic way— you find sneered lips and mock smiles.

"Correct, your third year at Jujutsu tech is ending in a week, you can decide for yourself to stay or leave during that remaining time, your choice. Any objections?"

“You’re terminating my contract to become a sorcerer for some incident I wasn’t even involved in?” You internally wince at your dismissive tone because you know that the so-called was not just some incident. It had torn both Getou and Gojo into unsalvageable pieces, thrown towards the deep sea. Getou’s own so bottomless that he had gone on a murdering spree.

One that the higher-ups were blaming you for because as his significant other you should have been the one to stop him. Which —at the start— you thought was so incredibly far fetched but as you pondered past actions you couldn't help but think otherwise.

A lasso of anger —your own— is cracked against the confining walls of the conference room. You think they can feel it, no, you know they can feel the spiked level your cursed energy has entered and Gojo can feel it too because he's bursting through the conference room door, grabbing your arm and hauling ass before you can retaliate.

By the time you're met with a blue sky and the sun's gaze, you have to blink multiple times. One, to become accustomed to the befallen light, and two, to snap out of your stupor.

In your crestfallen state, Gojo takes his time to scan your face. He basks in the way the sliver of the sun causes your skin to glow and the way your slightly pointed nose scrunches up in anger.

In reverence, he skims through his shared memories with you. The start of it all, when you waltzed through Jujutsu Tech with survivor’s guilt so intense that he and the other first-years could feel it. The result of your parents dying in a freak accident, which so happened to be the day you had started to see curses. 

When you snap out of it, you’re met with the sight of electric blue eyes. Ones that shine with an intense shade of worry. And it’s a jubilee because the Gojo Satoru is worried. You’d never seen him in this state, ever. In your state of surprise, your eyes flicker from Gojo’s to a pair of colored onyx.

He remembers your closed-off demeanor that he and Shoko decided to slowly shave off and the way you gravitated towards Getou more than he saw fit and oh gosh, why did it have to be him? He knows that now as a third-year you have no fundamental reason to be in Japan but he can't help but to think selfishly —stay with me.

Because now, after making the selfish decision of not killing his best friend, he's not too sure where the lines of coincidences might meet.

Megumi. I have to leave Megumi.

“Megumi! I didn’t even know you were here!” You smile and pat his tufts of dark hair that fell in all sorts of different directions. 

“You’ve always been so quiet,” you whisper, crouching down to his height as his colored eyes rapidly flutter shut. Although, not being a fan of Gojo or anyone for that matter. Megumi showed signs of slight attachment towards you. Ranging from returned hugs, and shared giggles here and there. The young boy never had a way with words and physical touch, but from time to time he seemed to enjoy your presence. 

The mere thought of having to leave him causes your chest to ache as you stand up from your kneeling position to, again, staring at the clouded sky in the distance. But there was no other resolution, you had to leave Japan. 

In your half-decade of being situated in the bustling streets of Tokyo, you’d grown accustomed to every aspect of the city. You’d made so many bonds. One’s that in a week would be snipped by the scissors of a very cruel fate. 

There was Shoko, a cigarette-addicted teenager that acted more like a nagging mother than a friend. 

Gojo, who had been injected with a childlike aura since birth and acted more like a fussy toddler than the strongest sorcerer there is. 

And Getou, the man your heart mistakenly bled for. He was always such a serious person, even behind closed doors but you never doubted that he loved you. He always chose to express his partiality through gasoline-filled words, ones that you digested and had caused your chest to burst with licking flames of devotion. 

Getou, the same man that had caused you to land in this mess. Albeit, the expulsion of what was supposed to be your future position, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. Only feeling crashing tides of guilt. 

“Not your fault, it’s not your fault.” You're pulled from your thoughts to feel calloused hands attached to your cheeks that are surprisingly wet with your tears. 

Through your blurred vision, you see Gojo’s bright eyes staring into your very own. Megumi’s looking at you with riddled curiosity, you’re sure it’s because he’s never seen you actually cry before but you can’t find it in you to not put your pride aside. And when that layer of chain mail is finally cracked in half, Gojo’s there to shield you. In a split second, he’s bringing you into a gravity-defying hug while you sob into his chest, all while the jut of his chin lays on top of your mass of curls. A bubble of his piney, masculine scent envelopes you all while you taste the salty tears that fall on your lips as you gargle out apologies. 

“I’m sorry, th- that- I couldn’t do anything,” you hiccup. 

“It’s not your fault,” he reassures you and he says it with so much intensity that at least a billion of your nerves transmit the message of truth to your brain.

“No one could’ve known.. for fucks sake, I didn’t even know.” Gojo reminisces, not for the fact that Getou had become a wanted sorcerer but because of that, you had to face the brute consequences.

But to you, His hushed words are a slap to the face because...

Gojo must be hurting too.

Getou was his best friend, his partner through life and death situations but here you were babbling like a baby. 

As soon as your body tenses up and your joints spring to pull your head off his chest, Gojo pulls you even closer, almost as if he can read your thoughts. 

So, the only thing you can hope for is that while both of you embrace, Gojo’s getting enough comfort to tend to his aching wounds. 

"They terminated your contract, eh? You want me to kill them for ya?" Your response is a hearty chuckle, one that stops as soon as it starts because he's serious. And you can tell. Your body itches in the worst possible way as his killing intent leaks out from his crackling hearth. As detected, Megumi grumbles and shifts his feet as he pulls on your skirt.

"Don't be stupid," you whisper as you pull away from his chest and face Megumi to grab his small hand. "Let's go home and see your sister, okay?"

back to m.list

[murderdaddymayhem]

Trapped - Mark Hoffman x Reader [NSFW]

Hoffman has feelings for Strahm's fiance. Now that Strahm is dead, you struggle with returning those feelings just for the night.

Set in between Saw V and VI. Please visit the ao3 link for full tags.

“Hey. You left something by the coffee machine.”

You look up, and see Detective Hoffman holding your engagement ring. “Oh,” you smile. “How do you know it’s mine?”

“I guess I look at your fingers a lot,” he jokes, tossing it to you. You slide it back on.

“Do you? How’s this one look?” You playfully flip him off, and he manages as much of a chuckle as the stoic man ever could.

“I’ve sure seen that one more than the others.”

You return the ring to your finger, sliding it on and sitting back down at your desk.

“We’re going out for drinks tonight,” Hoffman mentions, “Wanna come?” You normally wouldn’t join the rest of the officers after hours, but you had been making more of a solid effort to go out and enjoy yourself now that the initial sting of Peter’s death had subsided for you. You tilt your head. 

“Is Lindsey gonna be there? Matthews?”

“Yeah. Sing, Tapp. Everyone’s going.”

“Sure. I’ll be there,” you nod.

“Great.” He looks like he wants to say something else, and eventually closes with, “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

You look down to the paperwork on your desk, and back up to return with a quip, but Hoffman’s gone. You spend longer than you should looking out your door, mindlessly counting the number of steps it takes him to get back to his own office as if you hadn’t already memorized it.  

Mark sits down at his desk. He’d always had a thing for you. He’d been jealous of Strahm, not only in his stellar reputation with the guys, but of his pretty wife and his perfect life. Mark may have seemed like the handsome hero everyone dreamed of, but in reality, he was a pitiable alcoholic whose sole personality trait was mourning.

If you ever did return his feelings, it would probably be because you pitied him for the loss of his sister, which hurt more than the bindings John had put him in that first day of initiation. He only wanted one thing, really. Maybe two, the first being justice. True justice. As for the second, it's not viable to have you in the position he's in, but his tendency to run from his emotions is being put to the test by your acceptance of his invitation. 

 When you get to the bar you and everyone at the station frequent after work, Hoffman’s sitting there. Within a half an hour, it’s become apparent the others aren’t coming... and were never coming.

“You invited me out under false pretences,” you say, accepting your drink of choice from the bartender with a nod. “Why?”

“I told you, the others didn’t show.”

“I work for the FBI, and you’re a detective. You’re honestly trying to lie to me?”

Hoffman considers this, purses his lips. “Not very well thought out on my part, I guess.”

“What, did you want to talk to me about a case?” you ask. “Something about today’s paperwork?”

“You know I don’t want to talk about that crap. I wanted to ask you how you were,” he corrects you, taking another generous sip of his second double vodka of the night. “All these months later. Treat you to a night off.”

“Oh,” you nod. “Right.” You’re quiet for a moment. “I’m okay. I haven’t really said it out loud yet, but I think I am.” You debate opening up, but you know he’s also lost someone, so you take a chance. “I feel bad when I forget him.”

“Yeah. I know how it feels to forget. My sister was a huge part of my life, and I never thought I could. And I can’t. Difference is, I try to forget.” You stay quiet, ruminating on the reminder of Mark’s dead sister. He didn’t talk about her often for that reason you suppose, but everyone who knew Hoffman knew he was the way he was because of her death. “You’re not wearing your wedding band,” he mutters, starting in on his third drink.

“I lost it,” you whisper.

“Like you lost it by the coffee machine today?”  

You avert your eyes down to your lap. “Maybe you’re not the only one who tries to forget.” Silence passes between you as you explain. “Looking at it opens up old wounds. Keeping the past in the past is my way of dealing with it. He’s gone. If I think about how awfully he died, how scary his last seconds were, it’ll be like it happened yesterday... and I’ll have to start the process again.” You shove your hand down into your pocket, unwilling to study your bare ring finger any longer. “The past is as tangible as the future, detective. If I can’t feel it, it’s not there.”

“You think denying it’s gonna help you in the long run?”

You frown, looking up at him. “Nobody’s denying anything.” Blinking as if in slow motion, Mark gets up and tosses money down for the two of you. He takes your arm and leads you out of the bar, into the cool night air. Confused and more than a little angry, you jerk your arm away. “Why did you invite me for drinks?”

“I wanted to offer my condolences. Again.”

“Bullshit. It’s been 4 months and you haven’t once said you’re sorry he died in one of John Kramer’s sick traps. I know you two weren’t close, but why wait this long? What do you really want?”

“I don’t want anything.”

“Look me in the face and tell me one thing tonight that isn’t a lie,” you demand. Mark turns to you fully.

“Okay. I want to fuckin’ kiss you.”

You hesitate. That was the opposite of what you were expecting. You try and find words as Mark stares at you with that dark gaze, those eyes that seemed to linger in your mind now that you were lonely and no longer trapped under the weight of a lacklustre partnership.

“So? What’s stopping you?” You can never tell what’s going on behind those eyes; he guards his feelings and he guards his secrets. You know he has more secrets than the average man, but he’s a detective. How bad can they be?

“You want me to kiss you?” he murmurs. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do.” He advances, walking you back against the brick wall of the alley no doubt filled with the scum John had him abduct for his games. “Huh? You want me to kiss you how you’re used to? Kiss you like it’s an obligation? Like it’s what people expect me to do?” Your eyes start to prick with tears as Hoffman brushes your hair out of your face. “You want me to tell you I love you like a man who’s only true obsession is a serial killer he couldn’t begin to understand?”

“Hoffman, Peter—”

“Don’t say his name,” he mutters, “You’ll cut the wound wide open again, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against yours, and you feel your body release all of its tension. He kisses like Strahm’s antithesis—like he knows what he’s doing. He’s rough and he’s present, nothing like how you’d imagined the cold detective would. Peter had tried, but as much as he wanted to be, he hadn’t loved you as much as that damn case. Hoffman adversely seemed to care about anything but, even though he was in charge of it. You used to think everything was a façade for Hoffman, that appearances were everything. Façades have to crumble sometime.

  By the time you had arrived at his apartment with him in the passenger’s seat, the full effects of the detective’s four double vodkas had set in. He tries to maintain his sense of self until the elevator, then down the hall and into his place.

“Shit,” Mark grunts, sliding your jacket off, “I want you.”

“No you don’t.”

He licks his lips. “Wanna bet?”

“You’re drunk, and we’re colleagues,” you mutter. “You’re gonna walk into work tomorrow morning and you’re not going to be able to look me in the eye.”

“What, after taking you on every surface of my apartment?” he mutters, lips dipping dangerously close to your neck. “Your pussy isn’t gonna shock me. Yours isn’t the first I’ve seen, but it’s sure as hell on my list.” You try once more to push him off, and he tries to stand wearily. His brown eyes blink a few times, and he shakes his head. “Fuck. Sorry.” He lets go of you, backs off. You realize your mistake, and take him by his lapels.

“Are you?”

He looks back up at you, and through your shared gaze, he sees his own arousal reflected in your eyes. His lips are back on you, finally touching your skin, and his hands roam under your top, up to cup your breasts and paw for the hooks of your bra.

“Around the back,” you whisper against his lips. In his drunken state, Hoffman misinterprets this to mean you want to be turned around, and you find yourself pressed against the wall as his hands massage your ass. A moan slips from you as you try to reach back. “I meant the bra.”

“Fuck,” he repeats again, slightly slurred, and reaches up to take it off of you. It drops down one arm, and Mark turns you around again to take your top off and release the garment from your sleeve. “This is what I’ve been fuckin’ missing?” he mutters, half to himself. “God damn gorgeous.”

“Tell me more?” you ask coyly, wrapping arms around his neck. He growls, picking you up by the ass so your legs can wrap around his hips.

“You don’t even wanna know the shit I fantasize about with you,” he mumbles, grinding himself between your legs.

“Wanna bet?” you volley back his line with a grin, and he scoffs, working down your panties as you reach a hand forward to tease him through his business casual pants. The feeling of his bulge grounds you in the reality that yes, Mark Hoffman does want you back. He wants to fuck you in his apartment, and he wants to do it now.

“I’m drunk, but I’m not drunk enough to tell you that, honey.” He presses a soft kiss to the curve of your jaw and slides your panties off, dropping them and rubbing his fingers back up your thighs and beneath the plush seat of your ass. His fingertips are oddly rough, for a detective who hasn’t seen field work in three months.

“What’s your secret, Hoffman?” you ask, and he uses one hand to stroke up the column of your neck.

“Gonna have to fuck me to find out.”

The two of you move over to his couch, Hoffman attempting to lift you over. His state tells you this is a bad idea, so you just pull him by his tie over, and push him down on the couch. He seems to like your show of control, eyes roaming up and down your body as you stand over him. “This feels a little unfair,” you whisper, lifting a hand up to squeeze your breast. Hoffman tears his eyes away from the action.

“What does?”

“Look at you,” you gesture to his fully clothed form, “And look at me.”

“Oh, I’m looking,” he nods, reaching down to squeeze himself. You get between his legs on the couch with a huff, and take over, unzipping his pants and giving him a better squeeze through his boxers. You can feel how hard he is, how large his bulge has grown. He grinds up into your hand, makes no move to undress himself any further.

“You’re selfish,” you mutter.

“I never said I was a nice guy,” he replies.

“You’re a detective.”

“Gray area.”

“For what?”

“My hobbies.”

“Which are?” You sit back on your heels for a moment. Hoffman seems to realize he was about to let something big slip, and your curiosity only grows as he cuts himself off.

“Shut up, will you? And kiss me.”

“That’s my line,” you groan, unbuckling his belt and sliding it out.

“I stole it.”

“You steal a lot?” you probe, hoping to uncover that elusive secret.

“Like I said,” he mutters, face still stone cold. “I’m not a nice guy.” You moan as he pulls you down against him, and moves his hand down to uncover his cock in a smooth movement of his hand. He groans as it grazes against your thigh and up to your pussy, and you lean down to kiss him again. His large hands reach up to your smooth naked back, clutching your body to his as he deepens the kiss. Your breath mingles as you pull away, vodka in his and the mint of chewing gum in yours.

“Condoms?” Mark reaches beside him to the coffee table, and pulls open a packet. Reaching between you two and keeping you held up with the ease of a strong bicep, he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he rolls one onto his shaft—the feeling alone of his own hand on himself is enough to make him moan, but he keeps it together. You lift up to position yourself.  “You’re sure you want to do this?”

 “I’m ridiculously hard for you,” he replies, eyes half lidded and lips parted. “I think if you left me now, it would be the first time in my life I’ve cried.” You roll your eyes, and he sits you down on his cock. Your eyes roll back. He looked big when he first took himself out, but it was nothing compared to the feeling. He’s stretching you all the way to the base, hands tightening on your arms. He rocks up once, and you whine his name softly. “Can you move?” he whispers, slurring his words.

“Yeah.” You start to rock down, and his breath hitches. After a moment, he reaches his hands further back, feeling your ass and groping it before sliding them up to your lower back to guide your movements.

“So good,” he mumbles, “Never knew I wanted you... this fucking bad.”

“When did you figure it out?” you smirk, gasping as he hits deep.

“Today, at the office.” His eyes slip shut. “I looked at you sitting there, and wished your picture was on my shelf instead of all the bullshit awards I don’t fucking deserve. One thing that means something to me, that I don’t have to tempt fate to get. That’s all I want. That’s all I need. Just someone else. Just someone else.”

You can’t think of a response. To save him embarrassment in the morning if he, by some miracle, remembers this conversation, you don’t reply. You’re afraid you’ll scare him off if you reciprocate the sentiment, and you’re terrified you’ll offend him if you coddle him. Then again, he could mistake your silence for apathy. Even in his impaired state of mind, Mark seems to realize what’s running through your head. He pulls you down against his broad chest again to put all these thoughts you had no business thinking while getting fucked to bed.  

Still, he offers no tender explanation of his confession, no further apologies or bashful take-backs. He only increases his pace, grunting as you start to feel your climax build.

“I wanna feel you cum all over me,” he growls, “Fuck. Fuck, let me feel it.”

“Hoffman.”

“Use my name. Use my fucking name—”

“Mark.”

“Ah,” he hisses, trying to make himself last. “Good girl. Good girl...” You squeeze around him, riding him back and forth, your clit grinding against his pelvis and your ass slamming down into his thighs. He lets out sharp puffs of air, wrapping one arm around you and tightening it. You feel as though you’re as close to the distant man as you’ve ever been as he breathes your name into your hair, burying himself in it as he buries his cock the deepest it will go inside of you and stills.

You’re both almost there, and the formality between you dies.

“Mark—I’m gonna cum,” you breathe desperately, “Don’t stop!”

True to character, Hoffman doesn’t offer any verbal encouragement, but his body language is worth a thousand words. He bites your earlobe, reaching down to rub your clit in circles. The action makes you gasp, and you brace yourself on his chest as your orgasm finally hits in waves. His hips convulse inside of you as he finally lets himself finish with you, and your grunts and groans meld together into a harsh symphony of panted out breaths.

“You moan so pretty, babygirl,” he sighs. A warm flush rushes through your body at that, and you’re not sure why. This needs to stay a one night’s stand, not some workplace romance the two of you can giggle about behind closed doors. It would only be a liability to both of your careers in the force,  and you know Mark will agree once he sobers up in the morning.

“Stop thinking,” he groans. His voice is gravelly, sated. “Hey. Stop. More importantly, stop guessing what I’m thinking.”

You stare down at him, eyes dancing between his. Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. “What are you thinking?”

“Absolutely nothing. Which is what you should be thinking of too, after we both fell into bed together.”

He seems to grow uncomfortable with the close eye contact, feels as though you’re reading him like a book. He moves your head down, where you lay there on his softly rising and falling chest. His steady breathing makes you think he’s fallen asleep, but his eyes are wide open. He stares up at the ceiling as if he was staring up at Peter Strahm again, watching the walls close in on the agent and crush his bones as he himself sunk into the ground safely entombed in glass. He swallows, imagining how your bones must have crunched in on themselves as you crumpled to the floor receiving news of your husband’s death.

His fault.

John’s fault. Jigsaw's fault.

No.

His fault.

He thought acting on his feelings and sleeping with you would make him forget Strahm ever existed. Instead, it felt like Strahm was the one in that box, watching the walls close in on Hoffman as every shitty thing he’d done in his life came closing in on him. Hoffman feels his heartbeat pick up desperately, but talks himself down as he did every night. He listens to the rhythm of your breath, tries to meditate to it.

You don’t have the problem of hyperactive thought at the moment—you had taken Mark’s advice, and calmed down. It’s okay that you had moved on. It’s okay you had found comfort in someone else’s arms, and it’s okay that it’s Hoffman. Despite this, one singular question seems to bounce back and forth in your head as curiosity digs its nails back in.  

 Your finger traces a pattern in the rug below the couch... the pattern of a puzzle piece.

[bonny-kookoo]

Risk it (JJK x Reader) TEASER 1| SERIES! ☁️🎰❤️🔞⚠️

🎲Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🎲Genre: gambling AU, Non-Idol!Jungkook, Private Detective!Jungkook, Adult, crime!AU

🎲Warnings: Mentions & detailed descriptions of Torture (mental + Physical), detailed des. Of Murder (drowning, choking, shooting, stabbing, overdose), mentions of rape & sex slavery, gambling, addictions (to gambling, porn, drugs, alcohol and other substances and/or things), blood (duh), reader is a tough cookie tho I’m telling you, detective!Kook, he out to get his gal, usage of guns, knives and a fork (what-), gangs, mtba

🎲Summary: Jungkook honestly thought you had simply run away- that he had done something to drive you away without a word. But when a strange girl asks for him on her deathbed, begging him to help her, he may finally get the answers he’s been waiting for. And it may lead him to risk it all.

He still remembered it- painfully so, as he can't help but grit his teeth, jaw clenching visibly as his coworker and mentor looks at him warily. He knows, he's trained Jungkook for years after all; in a way, he was like his son, not just someone he trained in his job. But he's unsure if the young adult knows what he may get himself into."This isn't to be taken lightly, Jeon." He rasps out, taking a drag of his cigarette. The young man in question is not looking up, and for some reason, it clearly speaks to the older man- it's a silent sign that Jungkook has already decided, a sign that there was no saving him from what he's about to do. "You saw what state Bomi was in. For all we know, your girl could already be-" But he couldn't finish the sentence, shutting his mouth without so much as moving a muscle as he watched Jungkook jump from his seat, throwing the picture he had held in his hand onto the table, pacing while running a hand through his hair.

"I know!" He yells, frustrated tears gathering in his eyes. There's something growing inside him, the need to somehow finish things up. But he doesn't know how, doesn't know which way will lead him to a destination meant for him. He's scared- absolutely terrified, of what he may find along the way. The rational side in him, the trained detective, knows that you could very well be dead. You could've been sold already, could've be in a state similar to the young girl he's seen in the hospital last friday. He knows that what he's about to dive into could very well kill him as well; erasing all possibilities of a better future for him. But there's not just his rational side involved, after all. Because at the end of the day, as cheesy as it sounded, he still loved you, and that side of him, that deeply hidden side just can't stand the thought of you suffering a second longer in this place. That side of him want's to storm over, shoot the entire place down, and break every man's bones who's dared to touch you.

It's a dangerous cocktail of emotions inside of him.

"So what will you do?" The old man asks, eyes still focused on the young man pacing around, steel toed boots echoing heavy in the small room. "Once you dive in there, I can't follow you. You'll have to do this on your own- and there's no guarantee that you'll get a happy end." He says, and Jungkook sighs, chest shuddering at the thought of you on that hospital bed instead of the girl he saw. Pictures manifest inside his head, demons swallowing your body, twisting and turning your bones until they crush, your voice screaming out to him. He knows that this isn't just a mere romantic movie gone mafia style- this could very well be his decision to die.

And it won't be a quick death he'd die.

"3 years." Jungkook speaks suddenly, voice dark. "3 Years I've asked myself if it was me. If I'd done something, anything, if it was my fault she left." He explains, taking in a deep breath. "When in reality she was fucking.. protecting me." He said, laughing bitterly. "Me, of all people." He finishes, sitting down at the only desk in the room, laptop on it illuminating his features. "Even if I can't save her; I can at least get answers." He mumbles, until he looks up again, as his superior stands up, grabbing his phone from the table.

"I'll arrange some contacts for you. I really hope you're ready." He says, brows furrowed. "Where you're going, not even rats will follow you." He says, and Jungkook nods after a moment.

Jungkook stays silent however, unknowing that he was about to throw himself into hell itself.

Taglist:

[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [8/-]

summary: y/n is quick to plot revenge.. but does she get away with it..?

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and smut :)

a/n: i seriously love you

Anonymous said:

Ooohoohohoh I’m excited for her to steal his Rolex haha omg maybe she wears it and doesn’t give him it back when he asks for it OMG u know what would be cute!! if one day she goes snooping in his bedroom and tries on his chain necklace n rings and he walks out the shower n he’s like ummmm ok ily

Anonymous said:

i want y/n to ride gray’s thigh in his office, like he’s just got in still fully in his suite w his gun on his belt and she just walks in and strips 👀👀

Anonymous said:

I have an idea hehe!! WhYi f y/n gets drunk like she f inds alcohol in graysons office or kitchen or something and shes being really bratty but it’s so cute and she’s giving him nose kissies and hugging up and telling him stuff and he’s just listening and loving her

Relaxation.

That's how you'd explain the certain state of euphoria I'm embezzled within. Young love is a treacherous trap that can either end in favor, or be torn to shreds in only mere moments. To feel so passionate and fervently invested in someone you've only ever known and loved is such a thrill, and you could never forget those memories embedded in your mind.

Like right now, laying in bed while the sun's first shine leaks through the window and gleams down upon the two of us, nuzzled under the covers. His leg was wrapped over mine and his arms hung loosely around my hips, sheltering me from ever possibly leaving his grasp. I was the first to wake, but I dared not to move an inch.

The world around me was motionless, so peaceful and calm. Nothing could bother or disrupt the atmosphere around me. Everything felt so perfect, embraced by the one I love and the man I admire. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever unsettle me in this moment.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself...

A darkness warped over my newly sunken eyes, shielding the world around me. I called out his name, but nothing came out. The warmth I once felt upon my body, vanished into the air and seemed like it'd never return. The world became cold and useless, all the positivity and tranquility that once surrounded me was blown away and now, I sit in darkness;

All by myself.

Him.

-

It seemed too early in the morning to be awake at such an hour, but you had crashed shortly after making it back to your room last night. You were so mortified and embarrassed, for all those men to see you so vulnerable and being punished. Though, the crazy inside you kind of liked it, but still, it pushed boundaries.

Initially, you had wanted to sleep in all day, and hopefully never leave your room ever again. Although, today's forecast decided otherwise. A ground shaking rumble of thunder made you awaken and the shoestring lighting bolts strung across the darkened sky had drawn you in. Since you essentially have no concept of time, whatsoever, you had to believe it was early in the morning, unless you really had slept in all day...

It's been presumably an hour or so since you first fluttered your eyes open. By now, you had plotted a sickening revenge to his outrageous acts he had committed only a day ago. Of course, you had created horribly ill plans that even you could never pull off. Such as vandalizing his expensive vehicles or even trashing the entire house. You had even gone as far as to planning an "accidental" fire in the kitchen.

But something inside you had put a halt to those thoughts.

Other than not wanting to be known as a malicious arsonist, you had some sort of pull towards him— but what that pull was, you couldn't figure out. The phrase; " Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me," has been left in your mind ever since the words first left his mouth. You couldn't possibly help but wonder what that even meant. You felt like you've known him from a past life somehow, and that could potentially explain the affection you have towards him. All of that aside, you have to remember that he isn't who your brain morphs him in to be. He's a felon who's abducted you and has pulled you away from society and everything you've ever been a part of.

For some reason, that's hard for you to mentally consider.

Aside from criminalizing yourself too by creating a fire or becoming a vandalizer, the best option is to state your assertiveness and trespass the "laws" that he has forbidden you ro break. Unlike yesterday's escapades of you ruining the dining room table, today you were up for higher anticipated endeavours. You had it all planned out and you knew what you'd do in order to complete your vengeances.

And he's not going to be very happy...

The atmosphere above and around you still rumbles with the loud, crackling thunder and the strikes of lightning flooding certain increments of light through the surrounding windows pave your path to the daunting door. You were still dressed in the white shirt that could barely pass as acceptable in the public eye, and your feet were frozen at the first touch of the wooden floor. You kept on like you have done in the previous times you have left your room for mischievous reasons. You silently open the door, leaving it wide open as you crept out of your assigned room and into the hallway. You knew that the very first place you would go would be the kitchen. No, you aren't creating a fire or any of the sort, but you were going to raid the fridge and have your fill with what it has to offer.

You walk straight past the opening and right into the glorious establishment of cookware, like it was your very own home and you were just up for a midnight snack. In all honesty, you could get used to living here.

If only it weren't forced onto you, that is.

Your fingertips soon collide with the long, frigid handle of the refrigerator door and pull it wide open, marveling at the large display of different beverages and foods strategically set up. Of course, it was mainly veggies and several healthy-looking meal options. Which didn't surprise you whatsoever.

He has a nice physique for a reason...

You couldn't find anything that made your stomach growl with hunger, until you opened up the freezer drawer and spotted a nice looking ice cream container. Still, it looked healthy and it'd make you all the more frozen, but it would manage to subside your aching sweet tooth for now. You pop open the lid and fish around the drawers for a utensil. With a content sigh, you plunge a huge spoonful of the solid liquid and empty it into your mouth, savoring every last flavor like it would be the last time you'd ever eat the sugary treat again. It was delicious, the absolute best ice cream you've ever devoured in the entirety of your life.

You almost ate half the jar until you decided you were parched and needed a nice drink to soothe your throat. Luckily this time you were familiar with where the glasses were kept and already had your hand wrapped around a large wine glass that was a little bit higher up than the rest of the glassware. You set it down quietly, trailing your eyes upon the clean and prim counter.

A tall, fancy upscale bottle of what looked to be whiskey was settled in the corner, nicely organized with the other alcoholic beverages that were of the same importance.

Now, you weren't exactly a "drink-whiskey-out-of-a-wine-glass" type of gal, but as they say; desperate times call for desperate measures— and you were on the search of something to loosen you up a bit, and that was that.

You brought the glass over to where you had stationed your cup, not even flinching when you uncork the liquor and pour its contents out. With improper proportioning of the said liquid, you put the whiskey back how it was.

"Fuck, here we go." You inaudibly groan to yourself, just knowing that you'll regret every decision you've made in the near future. Raising up the plum-full glass, you tip it back into your mouth and down a whole gulp.

Nasty.

It's definitely an acquired taste, but the barely detectable taste of vanilla made it hardly feasible. You dared to not put the glass down until you were finished with it and had that sour taste submitted through your fiery throat.

The least you could say was that it's pretty smooth, but not something you'd drink in your free time.

In your head, you knew you'd feel a bit wonky, considering your nearly empty stomach and your abstinence from alcohol for the last month or so. It'd be easy to feel the side effects and overall feel much better, like you were aiming for.

Once you drained the glass of every last drop, you held your breath and rushed to the sink. The overwhelming want to just regurgitate what you ingested had drawn upon you, but you refrained from doing so. Waiting out the sickly feeling, you run a bit of cold water over your hand and press it against your forehead for a moment. Everything became hot, even with the freezing temperatures, you felt like breaking a sweat.

All just the side effects of alcohol, I'm sure.

Within the passing minutes, the faintness flew away and the sounds of the thunderstorm filled your ears. A large banging of the clouds above frightened you and you knocked over the glass you had just rested your lips on.

You didn't even feel bad about all the shattered pieces on the floor, it actually brought a smile to your face and you were ready to begin the fully planned extravaganza.

First stop; his room.

You skipped back the hallway, still quiet but not as careful as before. You weren't afraid of any consequences and whatever he was going to do to you wouldn't be too harsh. It's not like he's embarrassed you enough already anyway.

You easily find his door, pushing the handle down as slow as possible, just in case he was asleep in his room. His door didn't creak as you opened it, and nor did his floorboards as you walked straight into his marvelous bedroom. It was extravagant, but yet it still felt homely. You check the bed, no sign of him or anyone for the matter. He probably at a meeting, or something.

Not that you care..

You continue your stroll, glancing around his room for anything that could spark your immediate attention, considerably his desk. It held a lot of his more—fashionably inclined belongings. Such as his masculine jewelry and expensive watches. There was even a small, purple ring that reminded you of something you had worn a long time ago. You brush that off, it brings up sore wounds from a time where you were a lot happier and everything was simpler.

I wish I could say that now..

You began to pick up the neatly placed objects, slipping a couple of heavy necklaces around your neck and the large rings upon your fingers. You laugh at the size difference of your hand and how they barely stay on your fingers.

The stationary mirror attached to the desk caught your eyes, and you begin to make funny faces at it. Which sends you into a hushed giggle fest that makes you double over in your seat. Still caught up in your laughter, you take off all of the rings, just leaving a couple on the desk and tossing a few over to his bed. You do the same with the necklaces, except for the two that you threw into one of the drawers.

That’s when your eyes caught the nice watches, stuffed in clear pouches with the brand labeled across them. Rolex is the first you saw, and the first one you picked up. You weren’t thinking clearly. Hence the reason you tore it out of it’s protective packaging and brought it up above your head, throwing it down to the ground and watching the tiny glass fragments splatter everywhere.

It’s not like he can’t buy a new one, right?

Feeling content and a little less frustrated, you left the messy scene and followed your footsteps back into the hallway. He didn't seem to hear you, so the determination to find out his name came across your mind and you became dead set on finding it, so you basically sprinted into his ominous office and delved into his comfy chair without care.

Your motor skills were altered and it seemed to take for ever to lift yourself out of the chair and tap on the computer keyboard for it to wake up. While it began its process of turning on, you led your hand down to the drawers and pulled at them. And that’s when you found the very first locked up thing in this house.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing in here darling?” His alluring voice blasted through your ears and made you leap upward. “It’s not been a day and you’re already back to being a brat?” You couldn’t see what he looked like, but his silhouette looked suited and enticing.

Very enticing, actually...

“M’trying to find out your name, Daddy.” You spoke before you could think, crossing your arms over your chest while your lips form a pout. His body leaves from the doorway, and you’re barely able to see him as he strides over towards you. Suddenly, a light flips on and you’re met with his beautiful frame, a smile daunting his face as he looks down at your innocence.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He moves closer, wrapping his hand under your chin while his other has his blazer hung on his finger and thrown towards his back. He looks cute in a smile, until it forms into a confused frown.

“Have you been drinking, Y/N?” Your eyes widen and you quickly nod. You knew you’d be in trouble with him anyway, so might as well be honest now. “I c-couldn’t sleep and I- I just wanted a sip of somethin’.” You shrug, looking downward as you give him an okayish explanation.

“You know what helps me sleep?” He lets your chin go, dropping his jacket and beginning to roll up his dress-shirt’s sleeves. You shake your head, chewing your bottom lip as you take in his appearance. “A nice cocksucking does.” Thunder crackles loudly outside as his husky voice deepens and makes a cool wind run down your spine.

“Then let me help you..” You wrap your arms around his neck, twisting him around and forcefully pushing him down in the chair you were once sitting in. You were about to fall to your knees to “help” him, but he pulls your hips towards him and sets you on his lap. You replace your hands around his neck, sinking your fingertips into his hair and massaging the silky softness of it. He sweetly sighs, readjusting the leg you were sat upon.

And that’s when you feel the sensation you’ve been craving for however long you’ve been here.. you think..

“M’hm, do that again..” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He actually obliges, his brows furrowed as he watches your face contort. “Like riding my thigh, huh?” He asks as he placed his large hands around your waist. You nod, moving your hips in the same direction. You eyes shut, your head falling back a little as you smoothly move against his muscled thigh.

It felt so good, everything felt so good actually. He somehow looked so much more attractive, the beard dotting his face and his hair styled nicely. Even what he was wearing had you wanting more.

You open your eyes for a moment, watching his pleased expression as he watches you needingly thrust yourself upon his warm, clothed thigh. He even steadily lifted his knee in the correct places, aiding in the pleasure that him alone could bring you. Your eyesight seemed foggy but visible enough to see the gun at his waist side, and you almost froze when you saw it. Even in your intoxicated state of mind, you knew that just the weapon could possibly help you escape and make it back to your own home.

You didn't think it through thoroughly..

You lean in, your lips next to his ear as you practically collapse upon him, though your movements to further yourself towards releasing didn't halt. You slipped your left hand down to his waist band, sensually gliding it over his tented groin. He shutters under your touch, clearing his throat as his heads falls back slightly. As quick as your body would let you, you grab for the handle of the gun and raise it up towards his forehead, stopping all your movements and gaining his attention.

"Y/N—" He starts, gliding his hands up your bare thighs.

"Don't fucking move, or I'll— I'll shoot you." You sounded clear as day in your head, but your words became slurred as they left your mouth, and he smirked at your innocence. Just as quickly as you pulled the gun, he took it away.

He grabbed the barrel and snatched it from your grip, placing it back into its holster at his side. You yelp as he grabs your wrists, twisting them around your back and slamming you into the table with an evil chuckle. "Better keep those hands pretty little hands to yourself, princess. You're too innocent to commit murder anyway." He continues his hoarse chuckles, licking a stripe up his hand before striking your slick pussy. "D-Ahh!" You hiccup, pressing your legs as close together as you can.

“Better fuckin’ pray that you can walk tomorrow, darling...”

to be continued...

[boxofbadaddiction]

Gotta Get Me Some

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Umbridge Detention, Swearing, Implied Pot Smoking, Heavy Duty Make-Out Sesh.

Note: This is my first ever fanfic. I'm aware I'm pretty rubbish and OMG! WHY IS IT SO LONG??? But I'm sure I'll get better in time.

Inspired by Nickelbacks "Gotta Get Me Some" which is linked to the title.

The arrival of Winter, typically, meant the castle of Hogwarts were filled with the shivering and cheerful voices of students and staff anxiously awaiting the beginning of the Holiday festivities. However, with Delores Jane Umbridge set rampant upon the school there was little room for joy in the lives of any of the Hogwarts occupants.

"The bloody bitch is a menace!" Came the familiar drawling voice of Ronald Weasley.

It was breakfast and the Great Hall was filled to the brim with complaints following the latest set of 'Educational Decrees' which saw the students, already slim, range of freedom lessened still.

"No loud music. No groups larger than 3. Gryffindor as good as dead in the Quidditch finals-"

"HEY!" Ginny had taken Ron's remark against her teams performance rather personally, still he carried on as if uninterrupted.

"What's there left for that pink, old, Toad to take away?" He questioned to the equally disgruntled group of teens hundled around their morning pumpkin juice.

"I know, it's just dreadful isn't it?" Answered Lee Jordan. "I can't wait to be shot of this place for the holidays! I mean..." he glanced sorrowfully over his shoulder toward the Ravenclaw table, a look which did not go unnoticed by the rest of the group, "there's just nothing left to be cheerful for" he stared glumly back to his breakfast where he poked and prodded a cold piece of sausage across his plate.

"Oh give it a rest, Lee." Snapped the impatient voice of Fred Weasley.

"Just because you've no longer got someone to snog under the mistletoe." Continued George.

Their attitude caused Lee to slouch somewhat ashamedly in his seat.

"Don't be so insensitive!" Defended Hermiome, noting the further drop in his mood. "What is the matter with you two!? Your best friend is upset, the least you could do is be supportive!

"You're right, Hermione. I'm sorry Lee." Said George.

"Yeah, our bad mate. Just a bit out of it this morning...had detention with Umbridge late last night." Fred straightened himself from leaning on his elbows as he cletched his left hand, lowering it below the table.

"What'd she have you carve this time?" Lee asked concernedly.

"The same," responded George, showing the fresh scar upon his hand which read 'I must obey the rules', "she's got it out for us honestly."

The group grimaced at the sight.

"Has she said anything to you, since it happened, Lee?" Spoke Ginny, eager for a change of topic.

"Nothing new. Just the same everytime I try to talk to her; 'I don't see this going anywhere. I need someone more serious. I have my future to think about.' As if I'm the reason she's flunking potions." He rolled his eyes.

The group couldn't stand to see their friend so upset. He'd been, understandably, moping for days since the sudden termination of his eighth month long relationship with a fellow Seventh Year, Ravenclaw.

"Forget about her, mate." Fred stated abruptly, "you'll find someone better in no time."

"Someone who doesn't try to change everything about you." Chimed George.

Fred had never much cared for Lee's partner of choice. Her feelings were mutual, toward not only the devil-may-care redhead, but also his equally chaotic twin. Following the boys words of encouragement a wave of compliments and support erupted from the mouths of everyone else currently involved in the conversation, which crashed upon Lee. Seemingly having the desired effect as his mood greatly improved over the remainder of their meal, until came time for everyone to depart for their various classes.

---

Several tiresome hours later found most of the group, minus the Twins and Lee, lounging comfortably about the Gryffindor common room. Everyone was quietly enjoying the time to themselves. Everyone that is except for Ron who, per usual, had countless complaints to share on the topic of the 'Hogwarts High Enquizitor'.

"Did you hear her today before Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"What happened?" Ginny asked, only partially interested in the conversation.

"She gave him a serve for standing too close to Hermione." Sniggered Harry who, quite frankly, found the whole situation rather amusing.

"Boys and Girls are not permitted to be within eight inches of each other!" Ron mocked in his best impression of Umbridge.

"What's she expect to walk around a corner and catch me snogging?"

"Well, not you snogging anyone" George had just entered through the portrait hole, followed closely by Fred and Lee.

"You've got about as much chance being caught with a girl as George and I do being caught doing homework" Fred teased as the room broke into laughter.

A scowl plastered itself across Rons face. Insulted, he tightly folded his arms across his chest and slumped back between the cushions of the armchair he'd perched himself on.

"Awe, come on now Ronniekins. Mind the attitude", Fred goaded while roughing Rons hair. This earned him a rather hard slap across the arm, as he attempted to bat away the unwanted contact.

"Yeah," George began resting on the arm of Rons seat, "it's not all that bad."

"What's got you three in such a good mood?" Hermione questioned noting the new found spring held in the boys step as they strutted about the room disturbing the previously content group of teens.

"Just had a good day is all" Lee smirked, eyes flicking toward the Twins.

"You've planned some ridiculous prank on Lee's ex haven't you?" Ginny groaned with a look of you'd-better-fucking-not etched across her freckled features.

"No, nothing like that." Lee assured her, clearing the resounding tension from the air with a wave of his hand.

"Well, what then? You all looked ropeable at breakfast this morning. Now it's like you've won 100 galleons." Piped Harry, intrigued by the boys sudden optimism.

"We just got some good news, that's all." commented George vaguely, as Fred and Lee chuckled.

"What good news?" asked Ron.

"None ya business." Chorused the Twins.

"Oh come on you three! Just tell us!" Ginny and Harry were on the edge of their seats while Ron continued to scowl and Hermione remained utterly indifferent, immersed in yet another book. Good news was scarce these days and if it was enough to get the Twins excited this news was obviously well worth their time and pestering.

"Alright, fine then." Lee propped himself up straightly in his chair, ignoring the sounds of protest from the Twins as he leant forward to whisper to the eager group of ears. "What's it matter, really?" He shrugged.

The group was now huddled closely together around a small coffee by the fire on their knees. Everyone's attention fixed directly on Lee as he spoke.

"There's a scheme in action throughout Hogwarts. Someone is planning an end of year party right under the nose of that great, Toad."

Hermiones face showed no interest. "Really. That's all, a party?" Everyone promptly began shushing her.

"When is it!?" Asked Ginny, excitedly.

"No idea" replied the three seventh years at once.

"Well then, where is it?" Harry attempted to carry on the conversation.

"No idea." Came the chorus again.

Harry, Ron and Ginny eyed each other confusedly. Unable to see how a party with no location or time could have got the boys so happy.

"Who's planning it?" Hermione broke the silence.

"No idea."

"I'm missing dinner for this?" Ginny huffed as she slouched back against the bottom of the couch.

Harry could not have been anymore confused at this point. "So tell me, how exactly has this lifted your spirits?"

"Because it's going to be the party!" Lee answered.

"There's this tradition you see..." said George.

"Every year the graduating class holds a secret party under the noses of the staff. Obviously this year will be the best because no prior year had Satan at the helm." Fred explained. "But it's more than that. This year has already gone further than any before."

"How so?" Sighed Ron.

"It's a complete secret to everyone." Said Lee.

"No one's going to know when" smiled George.

"And no ones going to know where, until the day of." Fred smirked reclining with his feet up on the couch, hands nestled comfortably at the back of his neck.

"But then how do you know about it?" Piped Hermione.

"The group involved in it's planning has begun spreading rumours to get the word out. Only those invited are being told." Nodded Lee.

Ron was smiling now "I'm so going - OW!" Fred had reached and slapped the back of Ron's head again.

"No can do Ronniekins." He stood.

"Strictly seventh years only." George and Lee followed suit as the boys headed toward the portrait hole.

"Why tell us then??" Complained Ginny.

"Because you asked!" Lee laughed.

"What a bloody waste of time." She shook her head heading for dinner.

"What do you reckon, Harry?" Nudged Ron. But Harry didn't get the chance to answer as Hermione sprang into a lecture.

"Does it matter? One, you can't go - it's seventh years only. Two, this whole thing is terribly thought out! You can't hold a party that no one knows any details for. Not to mention the fact there is no where in the castle that a party could take place without detection. Not enough people know of the Room Of Requirement for it to be used. Lastly, even if by some miracle this plan does go ahead can you just imagine the punishment those who attended will receive when Umbridge finds out? And she will find out! Besides, Ronald. As school prefects we could not allow for such an event to take place. It goes against at least 30 school rules. Ones not set by Delores mind you. It won't go ahead so there's no point discussing it any further." Hermione was short of breath when she finally finished.

Given her friends deadpan expressions her lecture, per usual, had little effect. Frustrated she collected her belongings and left for dinner also.

"Sucks the fun out of everything, doesn't she?" Whispered Ron, as they followed. Neither game to admit just how much they wanted an invite to the mystery party. Not around Hermione at least.

---

Two weeks had passed since news broke of the Party and school spirits had lifted substantially as a result. Amongst the seniors at least. Although, it may also have had something to do with the approaching Quidditch match, between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, set to take place shortly after classes concluded in the afternoon. Students hastened themselves in storing their possessions before hurrying off to the stadium.

Halfway toward the pitch the Twins were deep in conversation over new product ideas when the sudden call of their names caused them to turn. Lee had been attempting to gain their attention from some distance behind. He looked far too excited for someone so out of breath as he ran up to his awaiting friends.

"Nice of you to finally join us." George laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're so funny, whatever. Listen!" He pulled the boys aside of the walking track to avoid being over heard. "The party's happening tonight! That's why I was late, a Ravenclaw was talking to me and -"

"Which Ravenclaw?" Asked the Twins, excited about the news.

"Doesn't matter."

"Given that tone, I'd say it does." Fred raised his brow. But Lee remained quiet.

"Which Ravenclaw?" They demanded.

"Oh fine! Alright, my ex. We were snogging in Moanies bathroom when the bell rang and she told me. Are you happy?" Groans and eye rolls came from the redheads as they processed the information.

"You'd just gotten over her mate" said George as they began walking, now running late for the game.

"Hadn't spoken to, or about her in weeks!" Fred spoke.

"Yes. And snogging was my reward! Now, you're sort of missing the important information here!! The party is on for tonight! Word has it, there's a deal between the teams seekers to push today's match back as late as possible. So Umbitch has to extend tonights curfew. That will draw some of the suspicion away from students wandering the halls late. Since they begin play at five, and curfews at nine, we're hoping for a three and a half hour match at least."

"Where's it happening?" Asked George.

"Some room in the Dungeons. There's going to be a marker set up to let us know where to go."

"What's the marker?"

"Haven't the foggiest."

"Well that's handy" Fred sighed. "Still no idea who's planning this?"

"Nah, but when she told me, she did happen to mention it's a friend of hers."

"What about the time?"

"Now that, I do know something about. Everyone's been given an individual time to arrive. To avoid a build up of students roaming toward the Dungeons past curfew. Our time is 10:45."

As they reached the stadium entrance the boys opted for a change of subject, as they took their place within the commentary box.

A total of 3 hours and 52 minutes later saw Hufflepuff victorious.

---

Time seemed to move agonisingly slow from that point as the boys waited in their near empty common room, keen for the night ahead.

"It's happening tonight isn't it? That's why you're all down here dressed up!" Ron had been pestering the boys for the past 40 minutes at least having noticed them wearing what you'd consider their best jeans and shirts.

"Give it a rest Ron!" Ginny snapped. Evidently even those uninvited few who knew of the party had grown tired of Rons relentless begging. She huffed as she changed position on the common room sofa.

"Like you aren't itching for an invite." He hissed back.

"We aren't going to tell you so just stop being such a nagging little prat, and leave us alone!" Fred growled.

"You weren't invited and we're not taking you!" George glared at his younger brother, and spoke with such a tone of finality that Ron reluctantly admitted defeat. Sulking in a neighbouring armchair.

"It's time" interrupted Lee, standing from his seat. "If we leave now that should give us plenty of time should we run into any obstacles along the way."

Indeed, the thought of stumbling upon Filch, or his cat, a rogue professor or prefect patrolling the halls, perhaps even the big bitch herself put a certain extra degree of temptation over the excitement for the night. At least it did for the Twins. Lee was slightly more apprehensive as he was not quite as adept in late night adventures compared to his prankster best friends. Fred and George could sense Lee's nerves in his voice and assured him that it would be "no more than a walk in the park".

Making use of their extensive knowledge of hidden passages and corridors the Twins had memorised, the boys met few speed bumps along their way. Aside from one encounter with Peeves the Poltergeist, whom they convinced to keep their whereabouts a secret on the word they were off to Prank Umbridge. Peeves gave them no such grief as a result.

"Right." Whispered Fred as they entered the Dungeons. "What's this signal we're meant to wait for?"

"If I were to hazzard a guess Freddie, I'd have to say...that." George pointed.

As if summoned by their presence a neon green ball of light appeared before them, glowing brightly against the pitch black corridor.

"Shall we gents?" Lee gestured for the Weasleys to move forward.

As they approached the ball began to move slowly throughout the space. Gliding ominously down the long empty hall and turned right down a passage which they knew led to the potions classroom.

"I swear, if this is a joke and we're about to be dumped on Snapes doorstep I'm pushing you both over to make my escape." Fred joked.

After a few more minutes walking the Gryffindors had passed their potions class and, while holding their breaths, the office of one Severus Snape. The orb led them directly to an unused classroom at the very end of the hall.

"Here?" Asked George. "Last I saw of this room, it were no bigger than Hagrids hut and stacked high with crap!"

The green orb flowed seamlessly through the old wooden door, coaxing them to continue onward.

"Here goes nothing, I guess." Lee shrugged as he placed a tentative grip on the doors handle and swung it open.

Whatever they had been expecting it sure wasn't this. The room had obviously been cleaned and made subject to an expansion charm as the ceiling was considerably higher than they recalled. However, what stood before them was not the hustle and bustle of a raging party - but two glistening white sheers with a note attached.

"Please shut the door before parting the curtains." It read. Confused but obediently the boys ensured the door was closed securely before passing through the thin fabric.

Immediately the scene changed. Their ears were met with the deafening sound of alternative rock music and the laughter of what was surely the entire cohort of seventh years. Tables lined the walls with an assortment of food and drink, as well as allowing areas for seating. The atmosphere was warm and inviting and they couldn't help but smile as they admired the amount of effort which must have been placed into making this a reality. Casting their eyes toward the ceiling they noticed an array of multicoloured orbs - similar to the one which lead them to the room, glowing brightly above the centre of the floor which lit the party like 70s disco.

"You made it!" Called the voice of Angelina Johnson as she ran to embrace the new comers. She was clutching a drink firmly in her left hand and swaying considerably, indicating she had indeed been here for quite some time and that was in no way her first drink.

"You're clearly having a ball." Fred chuckled, near having to yell over the noise of the place.

"I've been here since 9.30. That was my time. GEORGE!" She startled him before pulling him down by the neck to speak into his ear, "that girl you fancy from Hufflepuff is here. She's been asking about you! By the drinks last I saw." She pointed.

"Well. I mustn't keep her waiting much longer, must I?" He winked at his brother signalling his departure. Angelina mumbled something about needing a new drink and followed as she drained her cups last drop.

Lee and Fred set off into the crowd to enjoy the night.

---

Two hours and too many firewhiskeys later found George shamelessly snogging and wrapped tight within the arms of said Hufflepuff, and Angelina presumably with her head buried deep within a toilet somewhere.

Lee and Fred were having the time of their lives, drinking and dancing the night away. That was until Lee found more issues for himself in the form of his ex dancing and kissing someone who wasn't him. All his hopes of rekindling their relationship were decimated. Fred noticed his sudden drop in emotion and promptly shifted his gaze to meet the object of Lee's loss of enthusiasm. Had he not been met with the most beautiful shade of [y/c] eyes he'd ever seen, he probably would have noticed Lee excuse himself from the floor.

Fred's heart began to race and it was like everyone in the room disappeared except for you. Mesmerised by the way you smiled and moved in time with the music he couldn't look away if he tried. He knew he recognised you from around school, you were in his grade after all, but surely you'd never been this breathtaking.

You were huddled close to Lee's ex, stealing her from the arms of the boy she'd wrapped herself around, smiling so bright the lights were dull in comparison. You clung to one another instead as you danced, bodies intertwined in a way that made Fred jealous. He could have watched you all night, and probably well would have had it not been from the sudden sharp blow of an elbow to his ribs.

George had appeared, lips swollen and hair dishevelled, with a drink for his brother.

"Interrupting an important thought am I?" He smirked handing his brother the beverage. "You know, Freddie. If you fancy someone talking to them usually accomplishes more than just staring at the poor girl." He laughed.

"Oh, suddenly so wise now that you've come up for air, are you?" Fred teased, sipping some of the purple concoction he was sure he shouldn't be drinking. "Who is she?" He turned back to look at you.

"Who?" George asked trying to peer over the mass of heads. But you'd vanished.

Fred's face sank. Chugging his drink and rushing through the tight group of bodies jumping and laughing together. As he reached the place where you'd been dancing he searched for you but even standing at his full height he was unable to catch so much as a glimpse of your [H/L + H/C] hair.

Disappointed he removed himself from the crowd, to the outskirts of the room, where he leaned against a table with his hands in his pockets. Desperate for a hint of your figure but nothing. Seconds turned to minutes as his heart began to race and he panicked slightly. Had you left? He began to fear the thought he'd never get to see you again tonight when suddenly...

"Hey" a drink appeared infront of his chest, "you look like you could use a drink." He turned to see you smiling sweetly at him. Shocked his lips parted slightly while he stared at you awestruck. He lost himself in your eyes. Merlin! They were so much better up close.

"It's okay" your words snapped him out of his daze, "it's just firewhiskey." You tilted your head a little, raising the cup further infront of him.

"Thanks." He hastily reached for the drink, fingertips brushing your own. He felt goosebumps rise up his body. How could a girl he's never spoken to before have such an effect on him? Smiling his eyes raked your body as he took a sip. Noting your tight leather jeans and lose black top that sat off your shoulders. The outfit reminded him of a muggle rockstar.

You stared deeply back into his eyes as they met yours again. Never breaking the stare as you downed you entire drink in a mouthful without even batting an eyelid. To say he was impressed was a vast understatement. Firewhiskey was by no means a weak drink. His eyes widened and he laughed watching you place your now empty cup the the table next to you, raising a curious eyebrow at his reaction.

"What?"

Fred turned his head back to face the crowd on the dancefloor, raising his cup to his lips once more. "Nothing", he said with a twitch of his lips and a small shake of his head. He drained his cup before looking back down to you, "I get the feeling you can really handle your alcohol."

"What can I say? I like the taste" he laughed at your comment. "So, which one are you?"

"Fred" he held his hand out to you, shaking it you never let your eyes leave each other for a second. "I must say, you have me at a loss. You know who I am, but what's your name, lovely?" He stepped closer to you and turned his body to face you fully.

"[Y/F/N + Y/L/N]"

"How is it I've never met a beautiful girl like you before?

"I'm pretty easy to miss, if you're not looking for me."

His eyes scanned your body again, running his tongue slowly over his bottom lip before pulling it gently between his teeth, as he did so. It was probably the hottest thing you'd ever seen. Making your knees weak. You'd always considered the Twins handsome, how could someone not? They were tall, confident, charming, smarter than you knew they'd care to admit, fiercely loyal, and it'd be a lie if you said you hadn't noticed how Quidditch sculpted their bodies over the years. They were like fucking Gods around Hogwarts.

"Well..." Fred spoke as you both admired each other. "I'm sure now, I'll never be able to stop myself looking for you." He smirked inching ever so closer.

It was your turn to bite your lip now. He was so close you could smell him, and fuck did he smell good. You felt your body warm as you took in his scent. The sensation reminded you of fresh Butterbeer on a brisk Winter's day. Completely intoxicating.

"I think it's time for a refill" you said grabbing your wand to summon a bottle of Whiskey from the table down from you. You filled both cups before turning back to face him.

"If I didn't know any better" he took the drink from the table, "I'd say you were trying to get me drunk." He drank slowly from the cup.

"Just trying to see if you can keep up with me." You said with an innocent expression, "anyway. It's good for you." You drank.

"It's good for you now, but it won't be easy tomorrow."

"I'm a big girl. Reckon I can handle it."

He laughed, looking back over the room briefly. He caught a glimpse of George with a girl who Fred was sure wasn't his same kissing partner from earlier, dancing up against him. He raised an impressed brow to his brother, which earned himself a shrug and nod in your direction. Fred knew exactly what he meant by that. He was telling him to get a move on, not that he needed any goading.

His attention back on you, he watched as you drank more of your whiskey. All he wanted to do right now was push you against the nearest wall and have at you. However, he figured that may be a tad forward of him so he decided not to mention the fact.

"So tell me, [Y/N], what house are you?"

"Take a guess." You teased.

He titled his head, taking his time to look you over. Starting at your eyes and travelling slowly down to your lips, to your neck and they paused for a moment longer as they reached your exposed collarbone. Mind drifting to imagine how soft the skin would feel under his lips as he left hickies across it. He examined your whole body in what he felt could have been hours. Really though it was just enough for you to refill your drink, having finished it again moments ago.

"Well, you're clearly not Gryffindor." He began. "Otherwise, I'd absolutely have spoken to you before now."

"Clearly" you mocked.

"Certainly not Hufflepuff."

"And what makes you say that?" You asked curiously.

"Because Hufflepuff is the most innocent house in the school. And I can tell you are anything but."

"Oh you can tell can you?" Raising your eyebrows in surprise at his comment.

"Absolutely" he nodded.

"What gave me away?" You pouted, feigning dejection.

"Well, Darling, if it weren't for that devishly wicked smile you wear so well, that's been driving me crazy all night." You averted your gaze, smiling, trying to hide the blush that threatened to form on your cheeks. Slowly casting your eyes back up to meet his that'd never left you. "Then I'd say it's in the way you drink Fire Whiskey like it's pumpkin juice. Or from the red in the whites of your eyes which, naturally, is from..." he took a step into you and leant his head down to your neck. His nose grazed your skin and you could feel his breath on you as he inhaled your scent deeply. He lifted his lips to your ear where he whispered "-that's hardly the smell of tobacco now is it?" Turning his head enough to stare into your eyes, smiling proud and somewhat cheekily.

"Quite perceptive, aren't you?" You whispered back to him. He shrugged stepping back to sip his drink. "You know I saw you watching me earlier. Dancing."

"Couldn't take my eyes off you, love. I've never seen somebody move that way." He was grinning at you, far too content for your liking.

"Well." You finished your drink and set aside the cup, "what do you say you replace my previous partner?" You grabbed his right hand and began making your way to the dance floor which, although still bustling with life didn't house nearly as many sweaty bodies as before. You flashed him that same devilish grin you now knew he loved so much.

Chugging his drink and casting aside the cup he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, nestling his chin in your neck "lead the way."

Never letting his hand leave your grip you brought him to the middle of the floor where you pulled him into you slowly. Once you were flush against one another you began to move. Shamelessly enjoying the touch of each other's body. He spun you, and you were swaying and grinding against him when he pulled you back. You stayed like that till you were both sweating and panting quite heavily. Unable to contain the smiles that graced your faces.

You couldn't take it anymore, the look in his eyes and the grip on your waist was sending you crazy, reaching a hand up and around his neck you pulled his face dangerously close to yours "want to get out of here?"

His grip on you tightened as he responded "absolutely" and with that dragged you toward the exist.

George caught Fred's attention momentarily, he had a curious expression on his face. He simply smiled and winked back at his Twin. George laughed sending up a mock, celebratory fist pump.

Slightly impatient, you pulled Fred by the front of his shirt out past the curtains. You had no idea how loud the party had been until you were faced with the eery silence of the empty Dungeon corridors. The muffling charm placed on the sheers working perfectly.

"Come with me, I know a place" Fred said taking your hand.

Quietly manoeuvring through the castle halls, he pulled you into a hidden passage behind a tapestry, through to an empty classroom away from prying eyes. With a quick glance through the crack of the door to ensure you weren't spotted Fred was surprised, and satisfied to say the least, when he turned from closing the door to be immediately met with your lips on his.

You pushed him back against the wall. The kiss was passionate and so full of need you wondered how either of you lasted this long. His hand cupped your face as he deepened the kiss. Your hands on his chest began to snake their way over his body, one resting on the back of his neck to tug on his soft hair, the other wrapping around to his lower back where you pulled yourself against him. Causing him to groan at the sensation.

Soft moans and light gasps for air were the only sounds to penertrate the nights silence. Both of you were desperate for one anothers touch. An intense need to have you built within Fred like a fire. Mirroring your movements from earlier he grabbed a fist full of your hair as his other hand clung to the small of your back.

He spun around so it was you pressed against the wall. Hunching his body so he could lean fully into you, your tongue traced his bottom lip and he responded.

He tasted like Whiskey and Chocolate. You, undoubtedly, like Whiskey and Smoke. He ran his hands down below your ass and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. You giggled slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck to support yourself.

He walked blindly over to the centre of the room, lips never leaving yours as he placed you on top of the nearest desk. He pulled himself tight between your legs, arms now firm on your lower back.

Pulling away from your lips he moved to place love bites and kisses along any bare skin he could reach. From your neck, to behind your ear, to your shoulder, he wanted all of you. Lightly tracing his mouth along your soft skin he ducked his head down further to your collarbone to make true his earlier fantasy. Leaving countless hickies across the bone. Chest heaving against him as you threw your head back in pleasure, running a hand through his hair once more.

Gently moaning his name, he hummed in response sending vibrations through your skin. You could have stayed like that forever.

Unfortunately for you however, you found yourself interrupted by the sudden opening of the classroom door.

Snape.

"Ugh, Fuck." You groaned in frustration, letting go of the redhaired boy who was practically lying on top of you. Fred parted from you and turned to face the door.

"Mr Weasley. Miss [Y/L/N]. Detention. Two weeks. Hope this late night rendezvous was well worth the 50 points you've just cost Gryffindor, Weasley. And [L/N]...20 from you."

"Ahhh..." Fred spoke as realisation began to dawn on him "so you're a Slytherin." He laughed to himself. "It seems so obvious now."

"Return to your houses immediately." Snape growled as you hopped down off the desk top and walked past him trying to contain your giddy smile.

"Was worth the punishment" Fred leant to whisper in your ear as you both walked. "Best night I've had in a while."

"Glad you liked my party then" you looked up at him. He froze. Watching as you kept walking and turned through a hidden passage.

"Yours!?" He asked astonished jogging to catch up with you.

You nodded. "mine."

"God. You've got everything I want, all rolled into one."

You reached your parting point. Looking up to see the clock on the wall you hadn't realised how late it was till now. Although, it's not like you were worried about the time while you were busy wrapped up in Fred.

"I take it you won't miss me passing by in the halls from now on." You joked.

"Not a chance, love."

You reached up to place one final kiss to his lips. Just as passionate as the ones before, only far softer and slower. He felt like he was melting. His whole body went warm and all he could think in this moment was; did he really have to leave you? Why couldn't you be a Gryffindor?

"What do you say about meeting me here tomorrow night?" You asked, breaking the kiss and resting your forehead against his.

"Not even Snape, could stop me." He grinned, making you smile as you began to walk off. "What time?"

"How's 10:45?" You threw your hand up in a lame wave.

He continued to watch you walk away with a wide smile on his face, "it's a date." He called after you, finally walking towards his house.

---

When he arrived at the common room he hadn't expected to be greeted by the smiling, smug face of George. He stood with folded arms across his chest.

"So. Tell me...How was your night?"