#he's made mistakes but he's also been victimized so it's just...it's a mess

[songmingisthighs]

Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. vi

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 2.8 k

warning : argument, mentions of cheating, negative depiction of wooyoung, mentions of loss, calling an adulteress an assortment of names, idk what else tbh lmk if there is anything else I should add

a/n : I FINALLY UPDATED !!!!! this chapter might be slightly shorter compared to the others but trust me when I say it's very much intentional because I just want to focus this chapter on this one specific interaction. some sort of catalyst or like break from the obliteration of pyp!woo's image ig lmaooooo BUT YAY I DIDN'T FORGET TO POST PYP THIS MONTH !!!!

buy me coffee ?

After the fiasco that was your unveiling of a VERY important information about a staff of the academy, Wooyoung was immediately pulled in to get his side of the story. And of course, unfortunately, you. Luckily, you didn't get chastised by anyone because you were CLEARLY the victim in this situation. Heck, the HR team even reached out to apologize to you for the inconvenience you experienced due to their staff's "misconduct" because you're one of the founders's wives. It was an interesting way of saying that their staff is a cheating whore without any redeeming value but you'll take what you can get out of them and the situation. Which also includes his own friend group contacting you every now and then to make sure that you are okay and some (Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho) even going as far as swearing to denounce their familial relations with Wooyoung which was sweet.

Speaking of Wooyoung, he had been shoved into the heap of horseshit that he had piled on himself. You honestly have never seen him so down because he was "suggested" to take an extra two weeks of break to "settle down from the issue" which was really code for HR still having to clean up his mess because Harin decided to not go quietly. From what you heard from a reliable source (Jongho over pastry and coffee after he ditched his vocal classes to gossip), Harin came back the day after she officially got fired and made a ruckus. Literally, she went crazy and made a mess of the lobby; throwing chairs and tables around, scattering pamphlets, breaking vases, and screaming random weird things like how the company is a misogynist for firing a woman for something that was beyond her control. Safe to say, because Harin refused to move to a quieter spot, Hongjoong had to step in and reiterate all the mistakes she had made including but not limited to her having an affair with a married man who was her boss. Hongjoong had even told her that while there was another party involved, another party that acknowledged the mistakes that he had made and agreed to accept whatever disciplinary actions were required, it was also her choice to partake in such behavior. Long story short, a student uploaded the whole thing on YouTube and as of today, there were 15 different TikTok remixes ranging from EDM, screamo, and even a Donald Trump edit. Without Jongho pointing it out, you could imagine that Harin's career in South Korea was over, not because of the cheating, but because of her disorderly conduct.

You found yourself spending time rather peacefully in recent times which was surprising since your house seems to always be in a state of chaos. For once, Wooyoung didn't try to make you talk to him or about him. In fact, he had the decency to be very considerate of you and your feelings, particularly about being in the same room as him. It made you feel slightly bad to be honest because although you both were going through something, he was in the middle of being the butt of the joke and jab by everyone at the company. It was sad and pathetic but also very much deserved. Sure you sometimes found his isolation to be sad, pathetic, and downright pitiful, but then you remember what he did and you remembered how he put himself in that position without even considering the repercussions.

The same could be said about Dayoung. Well, only in the sense of her isolation seemingly from the rest of the world. Your outgoing, extroverted daughter seemed to spend a good chunk of time locking herself inside her room after school. Usually, you would have to turn into a negotiator three times a week just to get your daughter to come home right on her curfew. This time around, you had a worse time trying to get her out, even making her run some errands just so she could get some fresh air. It wasn't until a while later that Wooyoung clued in on why Dayoung was acting like that. The way you went off on Wooyoung for breaking the news in such a manner without you present or even consulting you. You did try to understand that maybe he just... slipped or that he was so emotional that it just slipped out but the point stood that he waited until you were trying to piece things together to finally tell you. Yet another secret he kept from you. Considering the frequency of things he said but hid away from you, you had to think if this was some sort of behavioural pattern that he hadn't exhibited even if you both had been married for quite a long time. Maybe he had became a master a suppressing it and all it took was you forcing the truth out of him to make said behavior to come back to the surface.

On the other hand, Woohyun was turning into a more mature and responsible version of himself. the day you both came home from confronting the slut, Woohyun became so very helpful towards you. The first thing he did was took your bag and brought it over to the kitchen table before he dashed to the bathroom to wash his hands, cleaning himself up before you had to tell him to. Then he made himself very available for you by making sure that he spent almost every single waking or available moments with you. When you;re in the kitchen doing the dishes or cooking, he would be on the counter or the dining table doing his homework. Sometimes he would even try to do chores like one time he tried to help you bringing his sister's laundry basket from the second floor and he ended up scattering everything down the stairs. Woohyun was upset and worried that you would be mad but instead, you laughed it up and helped him clean up before teaching him how to carry items that are heavier than him down. Although you couldn't find it in yourself to bring it up in case you ended up accidentally telling him yourself, you had a feeling that Woohyun was trying to distract you from the reality of what was going on with your husband in his own way. One of the things that solidified your assumption was the fact that Woohyun had limited contact with his dad significantly. The two of them used to spend time together playing games or pulling pranks on one another and even on you or Dayoung but he had suddenly refuse to spend elective time with Wooyoung no matter how much Wooyoung tried to negotiate with him with everything that he got. Despite that, Woohyun dudb't lose respect for his dad.

"Mom?"

You almost dropped the plate you were washing when you heard a voice come up from the doorway. It was surprising to see Dayoung standing there, timid like a deer because she was always happy, lively, and rambunctious, even straight-up disrespectful to you, your space, and your boundaries. But never this. She had been so... quiet for a week and it would've made you freak out had it not been for Wooyoung letting you know that Dayoung knew. That was all he said, she knew. You did not know what had gotten over you to not deck Wooyoung right then and there but he should absolutely consider himself a lucky bastard.

The sight of your own daughter standing there made you feel... anxious. You probably (most likely) should not be afraid of a bitty teenager, but how can you not? It's not like you thought that she was going to attack you or worse, ask you to give Wooyoung a sponge bath. But you just never saw your daughter this... Muted. It was as if she had stepped into an old TV where there was nothing but black and white. You silently wished that Woohyun had not gone to the zoo with his playdate friends because he would be a great buffer. Or witness for whatever that was bound to happen.

"D-do you need help with the dishes?" She asked, stepping closer to you slowly. At first, you were surprised, not exactly expecting that the first thing she would say was an offer to help you with a chore. But, you welcomed her with a smile and nodded, stepping to the side so she could come next to you and start wiping down the washed dishes.

There were no words exhchanged between the two of you for the first five minutes or so but it wasn't awkward. It was the first time that the silence was peaceful when it was just the two of you. Usually, the silence would always only come from Dayoung and it was because she was mad at you for something. Not at you and Wooyoung, just you. You were always the receiver of her animosity even when she was mad at her dad for whatever insignificant reason there could be, but this time was different.

"Mom..." she called you suddenly but what came next surprised you instead, "I'm sorry," she started, not looking at you which was unfortunate because you were staring at her with a very priceless dumbfounded expression. "I- I- what?" "I'm sorry for... This, my part in... Whatever's going on with you and dad. I'm really sorry for making you take care of him. Had I known, I wouldn't have made you take him in," she confessed and you could see that she was starting to tear up. Your heart broke and you really wanted to pull her in and give her the biggest hug that you could muster just to show your support for her but you knew that it would just make yourself feel better for accomplishing something and not actually help her feel better. So you took a step closer to her and breathed out a sigh of relief when she didn't push you away. "I'm really, really, REALLY sorry mom. He's the worst husband ever," she sniffed which made you chuckle as you blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, "Well, I would say that Emperor Peter, Catherine the Great's husband is a far worse husband than your father."

Your attempt at making light of the situation was met with Dayoung squinting her eyes at you. "Mom, I'm serious. I've heard about my friend's dad cheating but not like this. Not in your situation, and not with someone dumb enough to think she can substitute a hand wrap for martial arts with boob tapes," she scoffed, annoyed. You sighed and shrugged, "Well, people are complicated, sweetie. I... I'm not mad, annoyed, or angry that you wanted me to take care of your dad because, in retrospect, it WAS the absolute right thing to do. I mean, your dad was injured and he's facing such a hard time at work. It would be absolutely wrong to just toss him to someone else. Who would we even toss him to? His friend? His parents?" "His whore, mom. We could've tossed him out and have his whore handle him."

The very second the words left Dayoung's mouth, your eyes widened and your neck snapped in her direction to see her frowning, staring up at you. "He's a cheating bastard and we have the right to not even be in contact with him anymore," she curtly stated. "Jung Dayoung," you started shakily. Dayoung simply shook her head to cut you off, "No, mom, oh my God, you need to stop being a doormat." "Dayoung!" you exclaimed, surprised that she was able to say such a thing and perhaps slightly offended. "It's true! God, mom, how long have you known that he has a side piece who's as dumb as a bag of rocks? How long have you held everything in and just let him walk all over you? He fucking CHEATED on you mom! When you were so down in the dumps to the point that you couldn't even take care of yourself properly! You used Woohyun and I as a distraction, shoving all the attention and care to what, fill in the void over the loss of my would've-been sibling? And where was he? He was with some other woman because he is the worst of the worst and I will never forgive him for what he did to our family!"

Maybe it was the volume of her voice or the massive weight of her words but you felt your blood boiling and before you even realized it, you had shoved a plate into the sink and you were huffing, "Jung Dayoung that's enough, you should not talk about your father that way." "Why? Why shouldn't I, mom? My God, this is the first time in like, maybe ever that I'm standing up for you, this is me protecting you and yet you're still trying to make excuses for that pathetic son of a bitch who betrayed his family!?" "He did not betray our family, okay? He betrayed me, Dayoung!"

Just like it was the first time Dayoung defended you, you had experienced your first time screaming at her and to say that she was scared was an understatement. Dayoung shut her mouth and stared at you with sadness in her eyes because she had yet to comprehend why you were still trying to stand up for your cheating husband.

"Your dad did nothing to our family, sweetie. He did this to me," you sighed, closing your eyes and exhaling shakily as you used both of your hands to hold onto the counter to stabilize yourself. "Sure, he might have altered the dynamic and whatever else in our family but he... What he did was nothing against our family but it was just against me. At least, that's what I think. I don't think I have it in me to find out exactly why he did what he did because I'm weak, Dayoung. I'm a coward like that." you turned to her and shed a tear, breaking Dayoung's heart as she realized just how strong you were all this time.

"Then why, mom? Why are you still letting him off?" Dayoung asked, her voice cracking. You tearily chuckled and shrugged, "Who said that I am? I'm doing this, ALL of this, not because I want to. I did it, because for the longest time, that was what we have agreed on in our marriage. He deal with the monetary stuff and I deal with the family stuff. As much as it hurts, no matter if I like it or not, he is still my family because his behavior be damned, he... He gave me you and your brother and that is something I would never regret. For that, I will always be thankful to him and that is also why you should still respect your father. You can be mad at him, you can be hurt by what he did, but your respect should be non-negotiable not because he deserved it, but because your dad an I taught you better than that. He truly loves you, Dayoung. He might not love me anymore but you and Woohyun are the apples of his eyes, you are his stars in the dark night sky, and you are the best thing he had and would ever achieve. Do you understand me?"

Dayoung groaned and dropped her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist. "Damn it mom, why do you have to make it hard for me to unleash my wrath on him?" You couldn't help but chuckle and return her hug, "Sorry sweetie, part of my job is to make sure you grow up to be a decent human being and sometimes I have to make or say things you don't like," you chuckled, making Dayoung roll her eyes but nudge her hips with yours.

As you spend a heartwarming moment with your daughter, you can't help but let your mind slip and travel somewhere else. You couldn't help but think about how you and Dayoung would probably not have experienced such a changing moment in your life. So as much as you hate it, there was a silver lining in this whole shenanigan.

Beyond the heartwarming scene in the kitchen, alone in the dark and cold emptiness of the living room, Wooyoung stood with his back to the wall. Having come down when he heard the commotion, Wooyoung initially thought he might have to step in to get Dayoung off your back. But when he heard you yell back at Dayoung, he stopped in his tracks and debated If he should stay or leave until his interest was piqued and he ended up listening in on the conversation which left him feeling broken down. Despite the gnawing pain that made him feel like he couldn't breathe, he knew he deserved that and more. He should not complain and instead, he should just accept the harsh truth. Not just the facts that you laid out to Dayoung, but also the truth that your action further proved that he was truly the devil in this equation. And perhaps he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.

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[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Glasses | Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Spencer shows up in new glasses and it awakens some new feelings for your fellow BAU agent. 

A/N: I wrote this a month ago procrastinating studying for my exam 4 on Tuesday after I saw this GIF and finally finished it tonight. so here it is - hope you enjoy! this is NOT proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.  

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

**Aye Warning: this is PG 13 - little raunchy at the end * 

You and your fellow agents sat around the round table in the conference room. A new case had come to light, JJ gathering you all before you even had time to sit down at your desk. Fresh coffee sat in front of you and just the smell brought comfort. You glanced around the table, missing one of your agents. Spencer. Usually he beat you to work every morning, reprimanding and teasing you about it. 

“If you’d drink the coffee here instead of stopping every morning on your way to work, you’d actually be on time and beat me here.” Spencer teases following you through the glass double doors. He was in his usual work attire - slacks and a button up. His hair a curly mess. His messenger bag hung over his shoulder. 

You turned around to face him, walking backwards a few steps and made a face, mocking him, “I’m not drinking that tap water you all call coffee.” You saluted your coffee cup toward him, “I will always be late for a nice, fresh cup of coffee.” 

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, sipping on your coffee and flipping open the case file JJ tossed in front of you. 

She took a moment to glance around the room, perplexed Spencer wasn’t here yet. “I actually don’t know.” She peeked out the window overlooking the rest of the office, “Usually he beats you here.”

JJ went on with the meeting, turning on the TV screen to show pictures of the crime scene and now the next missing and possible victim. 

“Sorry I’m late-” Spencer says, out of breath as he enters the room in a rush. “I had an appointment and it ran later than expected -” He tosses his bag on the ground with a thud, sitting down and oblivious to the surprised looks from his fellow agents. 

Glasses. Spencer was wearing glasses. Your jaw dropped at this new sight, the pen you were chewing on, hanging against your lips. You wouldn’t disagree, Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. I mean you’d admitted that multiple times, but he was also your coworker. A relationship with a coworker could create a rocky atmosphere for the BAU.

He always been an eye candy to look at, however, this new look tossed you over the edge, changing something inside you. You needed him. His touch, his lips against yours. You were overwhelmed with such affection and adoration. Where was this coming from? Immediately your mind went dirty, your face flushed with embarrassment at having those thoughts, scared someone else could hear them. 

Spencer met your eyes from across the table, a new twinkle in his eye, “What did I miss?” He’d noticed the effect he had on you, he could read you like a book. 

You couldn’t even look him the eye. God what was this man doing to you. A wave of warmth was felt through your body; spreading to your core as new fantasies come to light. A dark mahogany desk... Spencer in a button up, loosening the tie around his neck. Oh god. You sat up quickly as if you were just touched by a hot poker and composed yourself, “JJ was just telling us about the last victims who were found-” Your eyes pleadingly glanced at JJ and the screen behind her. 

“Right anyways-” 

~ 

Everyone had settled into their seats on the jet and you stood, slipping behind the curtain to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. When you stood back up, you were met with Spencer’s chest, “Shit--Spencer.” 

“Did I scare you?” He smiles in triumph, “You’re so jumpy.” He tilted his head as he observed the change in you. 

You stepped out of the way as Spencer reached for mini fridge, fumbling for an excuse. “Watched a scary movie last night.” 

He hums in response turning to face you, the small countertop digging into your back as you tried to put enough space between you and Spencer. “Which movie?” He glances back over his shoulder, checking the curtain is closed. 

You glanced around him as well, wondering what he was looking for, but finally meeting his eyes, “oh you know.. I think it was scream?” 

He closes the space between the two of you, slipping his hands behind you and  placing them firmly on the countertop behind you. 

“Spencer!” A quiet gasp escaped your lips as his body pressed against yours. 

“Shhh...” He places his index against your lips as he leans in close, the smell of his aftershave and minty breath hitting you in a wave. His breath is hot against your neck as his lips dance along your neck. 

Your entire body submits to his touch. oh god. 

“Wouldn’t want them to know what we’ve been up to these last couple months, now would we?” 

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[justmeinadaze]

Little Girl Gone Part 7 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Doms Officer Steve Harrington/Gangster Eddie Munson & Sub Doctor Fem Reader, SMUT, light smacking, some degrading (whore, slut), dirty talk, etc

*inhales, exhale, shouts* ANGST! ANGST EVERYWHERE!

These three deal with time apart, Eddie is acting a bit irrational due to the last chapter, mentions of torture and death but none detailed here, Eddie does talk about a couple of his victims but they are bad people, Y/N is slightly interrogated again, mentions of Eddie's abuse from his father so child abuse trigger, lots of apologies and promises. Reader gets slightly spicy here. Cliffhanger ending (You're welcome.)

Word Count: 5259

Series here/ Donate to my Ko-Fi

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Eddie’s intense eyes penetrate yours, his chest rising and falling as he breathes heavily in anger.

“I am in charge of you.”

“You control me in bed, yes, but out here I am your partner to and your doctor. You need to rest, Eddie.”

Grumbling under his breath, the gangster grabs his jacket and heads for the door. 

“I can heal at my own place. I don’t need either of you getting in my way.”, he growls before stomping out of your apartment.

As you glance towards Steve, you notice his facial features harden as he silently begins to clean up the mess they both made. Once your living room was clear of any evidence of Officer Douglas, the other man pulled a pack of cigarettes you didn’t know he had, lighting the end and leaned against the back of your couch.

“Do you want me to leave to?”

“I didn’t ask him to go; he chose to. I want you both here.”

“Maybe I should leave… Maybe this was all a mistake, bringing you into this.”

“Fuck you.”, you hiss causing his head to jerk your way. “Yeah, Steven, fuck you. I just lost someone I cared about, I was attacked, and I told you both I loved you but THIS may be a mistake?! FUCK. YOU!”

Fuming, his jaw clenched as his eyes became glassy and he rose to his feet without saying another word, leaving your apartment, and slamming the front door.

***

A month later, you found yourself in a police integration room again this time completely unsure of what they were going to ask. You hadn’t heard from either man but you knew they had to have been busy from what you saw on the news. 

“Hey, Y/N.”, Detective Hopper sighed with a smile your way as he entered the room alone. “I’m sorry to be bothering you again.”

“I haven’t seen Eddie in a while so I don’t know how much help I can be.”

“You two are no longer together? Hm. Is that why Allen Munson’s associates are seemingly disappearing?”

“I don’t even want to know how you got from A to B and I still don’t understand how you became a Detective.”, you sneered. “Is that why you brought me down here? I told you that Eddie’s not a killer. Why don’t you ask the rival gangs like the Carvers or some shit?”

“Because Jason Carver and some of his men left down. We don’t know where or exactly but his father said he went on vacation. Personally, with other gangsters and police disappearing I’m not surprised.”

“Police?”

“Mhmm… we lost 3 other uniforms in the past month and upon searching their homes found some incriminating evidence that they were working for Edward’s dad. It makes me extremely nervous, Y/N, the things we’re uncovering.” Jim’s eyes scan you over as you fold into yourself and sigh. “Y/N, how well do you know Steve Harrington?”

Your head shot up as your brows furrowed at the question. 

“Your partner? He’s a dick who’s always rude to me. Why? Do you think he’s involved with Eddie’s dad?”

“Honestly, no, but I have to take into account that he’s been building a case against The Munson’s for a while and hasn’t gotten any head way in over a year. Add in some coincidences I can’t ignore like him being jumped by the Carver’s and then a week later a few of their members turn up dead. He, um, also went to you for treatment and a couple of months later you’re dating Allen Munson’s son.”

“Well, Detective, like I said…I’m amazed you’re allowed to still work cases with the conclusions you jump to. May I leave now?”

“Yes you may.”, he grumbles. “We have a car watching every move he makes so don’t do anything stupid, doctor.”

“Hm. You have a cop watching him yet you didn’t know we broke up. May want to check your intel or become a better liar.”

After collecting your things, you power walk to your car and as soon as you slam the door shut, you break as you begin to sob. A soft tap on your passenger side window made you jump before you realized it was only one of the men responsible for your broken heart. 

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Is everything ok? I didn’t know you were coming down here.”, he replied as he climbed into your vehicle. 

“Don’t worry. I always told you two I would never rat either of you out so—”

“That’s not what I meant…”, he whispered before heavily sighing. “Usually, they keep me in the loop when it comes to things involving Eddie. No one told me they were integrating you. Did someone break in again?”

“No. No one broke in or has come after me. Probably because Eddie is slaughtering them all.”, you say with distain making him flinch. “You need to tell him to be more careful, Steve. He’s being too obvious with what he’s doing.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t talked to him in a month so it’s not like he’ll listen to me.” As your head swiveled his way, he turned to gaze out the windshield not willing to meet your eyes for fear of you seeing how hurt he really was. “I call and he doesn’t answer. I went to the compound and they told me I’m no longer welcome.”

“Steve…”

“I guess that whole year we were together and he told me he loved me was all bullshit. Especially if he can throw me away so easily.”

“He’s in a lot of pain—”

“And we’re not?”, Steve snaps. 

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to play victim when you left me to. I haven’t heard from you either, Steve. Why have YOU stayed away?!”

“Because it hurts too much! I love you both but what he’s involved in right now could get you killed. It almost did! You guys think I’m this big tough cop but seeing him get beaten the way he was… seeing you fucking shaking in his arms with those bruises on your neck… it kills me! I feel like I failed you both.”

As he wiped the tears he tried to hide, you did the same before turning to fully face him. 

“They, or at least Hopper, thinks you may be working for Allen.”

“What?”

“The dots he’s connected brought him to that conclusion and with the three cops that have apparently wound-up dead—”

“I guess it’s not that big of leap but, Jesus, I’m not that much of an asshole. From the research I’ve done, I think those three plus Officer Douglas were the only ones in my precinct who worked for him. He may have some guards in the prison on his side especially with how easy it was to move Gabe and Eddie around to get them in the same block.”

When you become silent, he can’t help but release a heavy sigh. 

“Thank you for telling me what they know. I’m still always working to keep you both safe.”

As he reaches for the door handle, your hand grabs his wrist. 

“I may have an idea of how we can help him and we may only have to kill one more person.”

“We?”

“I want to help, Steve. I love him to.”

#############

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m sorry but… I was told to not allow anyone that isn’t a part of his crew up to the loft especially you or Mr. Harrington here.”

“I’m not asking for permission, Marcus. We’re going up there whether he likes it or not but I was hoping we could avoid any theatrics.”, you replied with a hard tone. 

Sighing, he leaned over to call upstairs but before he could say a word you took the phone from his hand. 

“Eddie, Steve and I need to talk to you.”

“I have nothing to say to either of you and there’s nothing I want to hear.”

“You said you loved us. The least you could do is face us one more time. Or is little gangster too scared?”

His growl reverberated through the receiver before you handed it back to the gentleman who nodded and tilted his head towards the elevators. 

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this?”

“More than ever.”

“Ok. If for any reason, you get uncomfortable or scared, tell me and I’ll—”

“Protect me. I know, Steve. Don’t worry. After the month I’ve had, I can handle anything he throws my way.”

When you both finally arrived on the top floor, you took one last long breath and entered his apartment. The smell smacked you in the face immediately, the scent of sweat, alcohol, and blood. His loft was a mess with papers and clothes thrown haphazardly everywhere. There was a chair placed in the middle of the living room with dried stains of his last victim underneath. 

What killed you was the photos strewn along his coffee table of a young Eddie with his mother with a big smile painting his face. 

The man himself was in his kitchen with a seeming calm demeanor as he poured himself another glass of whiskey. Wearing only his black sweats, you were able to see that his bruises and burns were all mostly healed.

“I see you DO listen to me sometimes when I talk.”, you start as you gesture towards his chest. 

“Is that why you’re here, doc? For a checkup? That usually doesn’t require a police escort.”

“That’s not why we’re here but it’s good to know physically you’re feeling better since you didn’t feel the need to update either of the people who love you.”

“Hm. Well, I’m busy so what the fuck do you both want?”

Steve chuckles beside you but even you can hear the pain hidden underneath. 

“Still easy to cast aside huh? Even with us right in front of you.”

“You two have each other and I have my team. You’ll survive.”

“I haven’t seen either of you in over a month.” Eddie’s demeanor falters slightly at your admission giving you slight hope you can reach the man you met before. “Steve said it was a probably a mistake bringing me into your world and like you he left. I get to watch you fall apart all by myself.”

“Is that really why you haven’t reached out to her? To keep her safe?”, the gangster asks. 

“Was I wrong? Between your fucking killing spree, detectives accusing me of working with your father—”

“What?”

“Hopper called me in today asking about the most recent deaths and then asked about Steve. The coincidences he sees drew him to that conclusion.”

“Fucking idiot.”

“I know.”, you agree with Eddie. “We want to use that to our advantage though. I was thinking Steve could make Allen believe the same thing.”

Eddie cackled at your suggestion to a mocking degree as he placed his hand on his stomach to control the laughter. 

“Oh my god, sweetheart. That is the best joke I’ve heard in a long time.”

“Why? Why would it be so unbelievable for him to work with your father?”

“So you’re going to go undercover, Stevie? You’re going to do what he asks to get him to trust you like murdering innocent people; people like Y/N.”

“I’m not innocent. Not anymore thanks to you two.”, you growl. 

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of after finding out a year of my life was wasted on a man who didn’t fucking love me.”

Again, the gangster’s hardened image faltered, visibly so as his eye lids fluttered and he sauntered backwards to refill his drink. 

“You think I didn’t love you?”

“I haven’t heard from you, Edward. After everything I’ve done for you and you just disappear without so much as a fucking goodbye? To be honest, after what I’ve witnessed recently, working for your dad will be a piece of cake since you want to be like him.”

“That shit… doesn’t hurt me anymore. Do you know why?”, he asks as he steps closer to you both. “Because I am better than my father ever was and now everyone else will know that to. If you cross me and align yourself with him, I have an answer for that.” Eddie pulls out his gun and places it under the officer’s chin. “And if you want to go play with his team have at it but if I find you robbing one of MY buildings or killing anyone on MY team, I’ll make an example out of you to.”

It was your turn to laugh as both men glanced your way. 

“I don’t mean to laugh but it’s just so cute. Little gangster playing tough like his daddy. God, Eddie, when I first met you, you were a man to be respected. So many people were in your corner because of how you ran this city. Now you’re just this little boy pretending. You became exactly what Allen believed you were…weak.”

Stomping in your direction, his fingers wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back hard against the wall. 

“You need to shut your fucking mouth before I do it for you.”

“Yeah? Do it then.”

Something flashes through his eyes then, a mixture of the man you fell in love with and the boy wanting justice against the person who continually hurt him from childhood to now. Releasing his grip, he slowly backed away from you but right as he turned around, you placed your body in front him. 

“Come on, Eddie! You said when I met you that you and Steve had tempers that most women couldn’t handle. Well, I can, trust me. I can handle anything after what you both have put me through!”, you huffed as you shoved his chest hard. “What about you, Steve, huh? Or are you as much of a pussy as he is now?!”

The officer knew what you were doing. If you couldn’t engage the gangster, maybe, pushing his partner would entice him enough. His beautiful eyes penetrated yours and you saw the question within them. 

Are you sure?

“Please…”

As soon as the words left your mouth, his eyes darkened and you were once again confronted with the version of him you hadn’t seen since he pointed a gun in your face asking you to help the man he loved.

######################

Steve’s feet slammed loudly against the hardwood as he made a beeline your way and grabbed your throat just below your jaw. 

“You think we’re pussies, little girl?” When your head tried to turn to see if Eddie was even paying attention, the officer forcefully yanked you closer till his nose was practically touching yours. “No. Don’t look at him. Look at me. I’m asking the fucking question. I said do you think we’re pussies?” Answer. Me.”

“Yes.”, you answered roughly as you clung to his wrist. “You made me believe you loved me. You told me I was safe with you! You lied to me!”

“No.”, Eddie’s rugid tone responded beside you. “We warned you. We kill people. I kill people and don’t even think twice about it. I’m a bad man, sweetheart, raised by an even worse one. This past month I have proven to him and everyone else that I’M now above him. I’m someone to be feared. You should be afraid of me, Y/N.”

You’d be lying if you didn’t say the way he was speaking was scaring you but you tried to keep your resolve. 

“I’m not.”

“You will be.” Abruptly, he shoved you to the sofa and climbed on top of you. You fought against him, your hand connecting to his face hard before he returned the favor and pinned your wrists above your head. After pushing your legs open with his knee, he rolled his hips allowing his hardening cock to rub against your pant covered core through his sweats. 

Even with all the layers, he ground himself in just the right way to hit your clit making you groan. 

“Eddie.”

“Fuck, that’s it, little whore. Moan my name.”

Fingers appeared above you and you glanced up to see Steve leaning to lift your shirt while the gangster took the opportunity to yank off your pants blocking his way. After pushing down his sweats enough to free his length, he maneuvered up your body till he was hovering over your face. 

“Open.” You try and push against his hold on your hands but he doesn’t relent. “Open. Now.”

When you do what he commands, he mercilessly guides his cock between your parted lips. The sound of your gags mixes with his grunts as he thrusts his hips. 

“Goddamn it. That’s right, Y/N. We trained you good. Fuck. Breathe…breathe through your nose—”

When his voice cut off, you opened your eyes to see both men passionately kissing each other above you. Steve’s face softened for a moment as if he was glad to be able to taste the man he loved again before remembering everything he had been through as well. 

“Look at you, baby. Being in charge…just like your father…a ruthless killer.”

“I’m better than he—mmm—ever was.”

“Oh, yeah? Show me. Show me what better looks like.” Eddie’s palm curled around the back of Steve’s neck and in return the officer leaned his forehead against his. “Come on, honey. You’re someone to be feared now, right? Show me. You already showed me you don’t love me; that you could use me. Use me again.”

At the accusation, the gangster tackled the other man to the ground and pinned his arms to the floor as you coughed, panting trying to catch your breath. You watched as they wrestled each other before Eddie flipped him onto his stomach, reached underneath him to unbuckle his belt, and pull down his pants to his ankles. 

The sound they both made when Eddie guided his cock inside of him was a mixture of passion and pain. The pain of them missing how the other felt but the euphoria of being able to feel them again. You slid down to the floor, placing yourself beside them and tenderly ran your fingers through Steve’s hair as he moaned while the gangster slammed into him roughly. 

Eddie’s breath warmed the back of your hand as he laid down flat on the other man’s back and rolled his hips as he clung to his chest. 

“This is…who I am…Steven. Who—fuck—who I have to…be.”

The officer shook his head as his own fingers above his head squeaked as he dragged them along the floor beneath him. 

“Excuses… Y-You’re afraid.”

“What the fuck do I have to be afraid of.”, Eddie grumbled in his ear.

“…Dad.”

The gangster delivered a couple of hard thrusts that had a high-pitched whine leaving Steve’s lips. 

“I’m NOT afraid of Allen Munson.”

“No, you’re not.”, you clarified. “You’re afraid of your dad. You’re afraid of the man that hurt your mother and called you both weak. The man who sent adults after a child to jump him after school. Who hurt and tortured a little boy for not being what he deemed as perfect.”

Eddie’s rhythm slowed to almost a stop while he listened to you speak. His long hair was blocking his face but you could tell you were getting through. 

“A coward who abandoned his only son with his brother to manage a gang of men who cared even less about his child than he did.”

 A broken sob left his throat as he pushed off Steve and leaned his back against the couch. You crawled towards him, climbed into his lap, and pushed his hair back with your fingers as you kissed his forehead. 

“Baby, you’re not that same little boy. You have more control now than you think and that scares him.”, you whispered as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly to him. “That’s why he did what he did, Eddie. You’re stronger than he will ever be so he had to make you feel like a child again. Don’t let him win. Don’t become him.”

When Steve sat up and laid his head on the man’s shoulder, he turned and smashed his lips messily to his. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I do love you, Steve. I never once used you or Y/N. It killed me not having either one of you next to me. I’m sorry. I love you to, Y/N.”

Steve’s hands suddenly gripped your waist as he laid you back down on the floor and ran his cock through your folds before guiding himself into your cunt. Amber eyes locked with your own when he felt ring laced hands land on his shoulder and he grunted loudly as Eddie slid into the man above you again. 

Your legs tried to wrap around them both as they pumped their hips. Steve fell against your body as his cock hit every sensitive nerve inside you, building you up as you ran your nails through his hair and down his back. 

“I’m s-sorry, honey, for—mmm—for hurting you. I love you, Y/N.”

“Cum, Steve. I need to feel it.”

His pace hastened, his ass pushing back into Eddie who groaned and his length pushing deep into you. The sound of his heavy pants in your ear had you clenching around him till you came and he quickly followed, moaning your name as he warmed your walls with his release. With a few more rough thrusts, the gangster grunted as he spilled into his partner before collapsing on the floor beside you.

As soon as Steve pulled out of you, both men’s eyes followed you as you rose to your feet and headed to the kitchen to a get a rag to clean yourself. Coming back into the living room with a bottle of water, you threw on your shirt and panties as they quietly put on their boxers. 

“So, Steve and I were thinking that he could pretend to work for your father so we could him in front of you on your own terms so to speak.”

When you spoke your tone calm but there was a shake behind it you prayed they didn’t hear. As a doctor you were trained to hold it together under pressure. This was no different. 

“You can do whatever you want; torture him, kill him, I don’t fucking care. Whatever gets him to leave us alone. After that you can stop all this chaos and I can go back to my own life.”

“Alone?”, Eddie asked.

When you didn’t responded, their gaze shifted towards you just in time to see your eyes glaze over and your bottom lip tremble. The gangster kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his. 

“You left me… I wanted you to stay but… you left…”

“I know. I know, sweetheart and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you; both of you. You were right. I became that little boy again and just…”

“How many people have you killed in this last month, Eddie?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows in fear knowing you won’t like his answer. 

“Me personally or my team?”

“Jesus Christ.”, Steve sighs as he rubs his palms over his eyes. “My department clocked a total of 23 men. Three of them cops. How many were by your hand, Ed?”

“Eight were killed by me but I tortured them all for information.”, he answers flatly as his eyes remained locked on yours. “Those eight knew about Y/N or you, Steve. Pat Chase, a lawyer for a few of the gang members around town had pictures in his suitcase of you in your cruiser and Y/N…crying behind her clinic. Calvin Thomas, junior police officer at Steve’s station, threatened to murder a couple of your patients including that little girl with asthma. Mason Fletcher, manager at one of the local mechanic stores and a friend who I helped when his wife passed away, said when Steve’s chief sent the cars for a tune up, he planned to tamper with the brakes.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he continued. 

“I remember each and every one of them still. Out of those 23 people, ten of them were people I trusted and do you know who commands them? Allen Munson. This is the kind of man they follow even after everything. Y/N what you’re suggesting is very dangerous but even more so because… I don’t know if I could follow through with killing him if given the chance.”

“What if you don’t have to kill him but we can still separate him from his allies. Cut the head off the snake.”

They listen as you speak, allowing the details to sink in before agreeing with what you have in mind. Taking his hand in yours, you start to head towards the stairs to guide him to his bed but are tugged back when he doesn’t move. 

“You never answered my question. When this is over…will we be over?” When your gaze shifts to the floor, Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and brings you closer to him as he leans his forehead on your own. “I understand if you want to leave but if you stay, Y/N, I promise I will do whatever it takes to make sure you never feel alone or hurt like that again. I love you so much. I’m so sorry.”

Your lips meet his as hug him tightly to your body while he continues to whisper apologies. 

“I’ll stay, Eddie. I forgive you.”

After the gangster prepared a bath and slowly placed you in the water, he paused when he noticed Steve’s moving was a bit more rigid than he normally is. Rising to his feet, he scanned the man over. 

“Steve, are you ok, sweetheart? Did I…was I…too rough?”

Shaking his head, the officer carefully climbed in behind you before taking you in his arms and pulling you against his chest. 

“I forgive you to, Steve Harrington.”, you murmur as you lean back to kiss his cheek. 

Placing a finger under his chin, Eddie tilts his head till Steve’s eyes meet his. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I—”

“It’s ok, honey. I’m just…sore…and tired. I missed you both.” 

The three of you sat there in silence fully absorbing the events of the last month and how things were about to get a lot harder. As you were being dried, your fingers ran over Eddie’s remaining bruises and burns.

“I’ve still been doing what you said, keeping the wounds iced and clean.”

“They look a lot better.”

Steve passed by you both and placed himself on the edge of the bed as he pulled his shirt over his head. The other man kneeled in front of him and took his hands into his own. 

“My Paladin. You do so much for me and yet I pushed you to the side. This past year, I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been and not because you help me with my organization but because you loved me for me, Steve. You don’t see a gangster or a Munson. You always saw Eddie.”

The officer’s eyes water as a heavy breath escapes him. 

“This will never happen again, baby. I promise.”, the other man coos as he straddles his lap and circles his arms around him and you watch with a small smile while they cling to each other. “I love you. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you to, nerd.”

When they finally detached, they laid down in bed, reaching for you and putting you between them. 

“Are you sure you want to go through with your plan, Y/N? It’s not going to be easy…for you or Steve.”

You nod as you tenderly reach out to caress his face and fold the officer’s hand that’s resting on your hip. 

“I’m sure.”

########################

Three Days Later

Allen grunts in frustration as he steps up to the glass partition and throws his body into the chair across from the man he believes to be his son’s best friend. 

“Mr. Harrington, how can I help you today? Any friend of my son is no friend of mine.”, he says all too casually as he chuckles under his breath. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not your son’s friend anymore.”, Steve growled in anger. “He took something that belonged to me. I warned him but that fucker didn’t care.”

“Oh? What did he take?”

“Y/N.”

Allen’s eyes widened in amusement as he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. 

“Jesus. This woman must be fucking special. How did she end up with him and not you?”

“I saw her first when she helped me at her clinic. After Eddie was hurt, I took him there so she could help him to. I didn’t expect it to become romantic. I told that fucker I loved her and she was mine but he still went after her. I did everything I could to split them up but, unfortunately, she’s loyal.”

“Hm. Sounds like my wife; weak. So what exactly do you want, officer?”

“It’s not so much what I want but what you do. I want to help you take Eddie out of the game.”

Allen laughed as well as a few of the guards who could hear the conversation. 

“You want to help me? Why don’t you just arrest him again and bring him in?”

“On what? All the charges we have aren’t sticking and even though he’s running around killing your people, he’s not leaving anything incriminating behind.” At Steve’s mention of the men he was losing, the prisoner grumbled low as he glared at him. “He’s going to keep coming at you till either all your people are dead or he is. I can help you, Allen.”

The man thinks for a long moment before smirking his way. 

“How do I know I can trust you? How do I know this isn’t something my son conjured up.”

“Well, one, Eddie isn’t that fucking smart and two, I did something you haven’t been able to in almost 2 months.”

“Yeah, Harrington, and what’s that?”

“I killed Y/N.”

Allen’s head tilts as he tries to hide his shock at the officer’s statement as the other man smirks his way. 

“How’d you do that?”

“I slit her throat in his apartment.”, Steve answered as his smile grew. “You should have heard the way Eddie cried over her. That’s what that selfish asshole gets. She was mine.”

No longer amused, the prisoner leaned on his elbows and met the officer’s angry expression with one of his own. 

“I don’t believe you.”

A loud thump filled the area as Steve smacked a Polaroid picture against the glass. 

“I thought you might say that. She’s buried next to his mother if you want to go look. Oh wait…”, he teases sarcastically as he gestures to the prison. 

Loud shouting startles the guards as a door flies open just in time for Eddie’s father to see them tackling Wayne to the ground. 

“What the fuck did you do, Allen!? She was a good woman and you took her away from him! You fucking asshole! Get off me!”

“Self-righteous prick.” Allen thinks for a moment as he fully takes in the man in front of him. “Ok, Steven. Ok, I may have some use for you.”

###################

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon 

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

I'LL ALWAYS FIND YOU - D.M

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, mentions of murder, addiction mention, mentions of sexual assault (no sexual assault against reader), criminal minds related language and unsubs.

Summary: Derek loved you more than anything so when you get kidnapped and he saves you, he doesn't know how to look after you. (Occurs between end of season 6)

Wordcount: 4.9k

You let out a sob. It was loud and it was broken and it came from deep within your chest.

The room was cold and the zip ties on your wrists were scratchy, digging into your wrists and cutting at the skin there whenever you would move. Every time you would try and fight, try to move your arms and find a way out, they just dig deeper.

Your shirt was ripped from where he had grabbed you but otherwise, you were left in your normal clothes. There was a wound on your head, an occasional sharp pain passing through your temple. The blood had a dried against your cheek and you were sure you looked like a mess. Bloody and tear stained.

You knew all about this unsub, had profiled him for the last week here in the blistering summer. You had profiled him as a masochist but there were barely enough bodies to be able to figure out anything.

He was stealing women from their cars, grabbing them from secluded areas and knocking them out with a harsh blow to the head. They would be there for about a week before they were killed and you had been there for just under a day now. He would also send daily photos of the women to the local police, almost taunting them.

You had been grabbing something from the car outside of the police station in the early hours of the mornings. None of you thought that he would grab someone from outside of a police station but here you were, the victim to his destabilisation. You wished you would have taken up Dereks offer for him to walk with you but you had been too stubborn.

Thinkin about Derek made your heart hurt. The two of you had been dating for around a year now and you knew he was it for you, the man that you were going to spend the rest of your life with. There was no doubt about that.

You had to keep thinking about the team. They were going to come find you, they were going to come and find you. You kept repeating it like a mantra, hoping that this sick bastard had made some mistake by grabbing you from a police station. He must have.

The sound of footsteps started to get closer and your heart pounded. If he was beginning to escalate with kidnapping a federal agent, who knew what he was going to do now.

Every bad thing that you had seen before on this job flashed before your eyes, dead girls living in streams, bloody knives, ropes. You tried to calm yourself down but you couldnt stop wondering about what could happen to you.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief as you heard the footsteps fading into the distance. You took a deep breath, blinking away the tears as you decided that you had to stop feeling sorry for yourself and instead find a way out of here.

Looking around, you noted that the room was concrete, no windows and just a single door on the other side of the room; maybe you were underground. Behind you was the metal grate that your arms were zip tied to and the floor was cold beneath your feet, a complete contrast to the blazing Louisiana summer that you had been investigating.

All your years of training were coming handy and you had to try and deduce your way out. But your heart was pounding and your head hurt from when he had hit you over the head a during your kidnapping. You were tired and hungry and not ready to die yet.

You closed your eyes, the feeling of fatigue starting to build up inside of you. You tried not to, but you let it take you away, just for a little bit.

Derek sat in the police office, head in his hands as he tried to figure it out. He needed to find you before something happened. You were the only person he had ever loved before, the only woman he would ever love.

Spencer looked at his friend sitting there at the table by himself, eyes trained on the board of the other dead women. He could tell that Derek was picturing you up there, body cut and beaten as it was dumped in an alleyway.

His stomach sank as he walked over, sitting down next to his friend.

“You need to sleep,” it had been 30 hours now and he hadnt slept since you went missing. Spencer knew he would be no use to you or the team if he was sleep deprived.

Derek turned to him, eyes red from crying earlier (even though he would never admit it to the team). There was worry written all over his face, knowing there was a chance he would never see her again.

He shook his head, “I cant sleep,”

“You have to,” Spencer said with a sigh.

Derek stood up, slamming his hand on the table with anger, “I cant,” he stated, bitterness rolling off of his tongue, “My girl is out there. He’s doing God knows what to her and I have to sit here and-” he let out a shaky breath, “-and she could be dead,”

Spencer stood up, “We profiled him. He wont kill her yet,”

“Yet,”

There was a silence in the room as Derek walked over to the board. The picture of you that he kept in his pocket in every mission was pinned up there on the board, your bright smile contrasting the photos of the other missing and dead women.

He took a deep breath, feeling guilty that he had taken his anger out on Spencer. He turned to him, running his hand over his face, “Yet,” he repeated, his voice softer this time.

“We will find her,” Spencer promised as he walked over, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.

He had seen how perfect the two of you were. You were friends for years and then one day, you announced to everyone that you were dating but they werent shocked. Your affection towards one another was obvious and everyone was waiting for the two of you to end up together.

He nodded, biting on his lip as he thought. His brows were furrowed, eyes glued to the picture of you on the board. He wasnt going to let anything happen to you, not now, not ever.

You were both going to make it out of this alive. He was ging to marry you, he was going to spend the rest of his life with you, have children with you if you wanted to do that, live in one of those houses in the suburbs. He would do anything that would make you happy.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Derek out of his thoughts and he hadnt even noticed that a tear had slipped past his waterline until he felt it running down his cheek. He brushed it away, shaking his head as he composed himself.

He turned around, looking to see Hotch and the other standing at the entrance, “Everyone sit down please,”

They all complied, Derek unable to sit still as he waited to see what evidence Hotch had. Maybe they had a lead, maybe they had something that could help find you.

He pulled something out of his pocket and Dereks heart sank down in hs chest as he realised it was a picture. He had forgotten that this unsub would take photos of the women every day and drop them off at the local police stations.

Hotch couldnt even look at Derek as he slipped the picture onto the circular table that they were all sitting around.

The man instantly snatched the photo away before anyone else could look. None of them had ever heard the choked sob that Derek let out before as hee saw the picture of you.

You were standing there, tied up to some metal grate behind you. He couldn’t see your wrist but he assumed from the drops of blood on the floor that they were bleeding. He felt sick as he looked at the rip in your jacket, a large bruise starting to blossom on your shoulder.

It took him too long to reach your face. He brushed a thumb across the picture, brushing across your face. You had tear stains marking your cheeks and dried blood that came from a wound on your forehead. You looked like a mess and he felt physically ill at the sight - he couldn’t believe that someone was actually doing this to you, hurting you like this.

He slid the picture back down, lip quivering slightly as he did so. Emily and JJ shared a look, they had never seen the man so distraught. They had seen him when he confronted his assaulter and a few months ago had seen him lie to his aunt about his missing cousin. He had never seemed so upset before, so broken inside.

They all looked at it, taking turns to pass it around. The team were all friends and you were an integral part of it, none of them enjoyed seeing you like that.

Even in the pictures, they could still see the fierce look in your face. You werent going to go down without a fight and that was the best thing to think of.

Derek couldnt bring himself to look back down at the photo. He didnt want to look at you like that, he didnt want to imagine what the man had done to you. There was a sickening feeling in his gut as he thought about it and he couldnt bare to anymore.

But as the tears and the self-pity subsided, the anger started to build up. He didnt feel the burning sting in the back of his eyes anymore and instead, there was a building anger within his stomach.

He shook his head, shaking his head. They all saw his face change expression, the downturned and teary look on his face turning to one of anger, brows furrowed and fist clenched as it rested on the table.

“Is this what you called us in for? To show me a picture of my girl being tortured?” The whole team could hear the anger in his voice as he spat the words out.

Hotch understood what it was like to lose someone. He had lost the woman that he had loved and he would never want that to happen to anyone else. He didnt want to see that happen to anyone, especially not to someone he respected as much as Derek Morgan.

Derek's anger didn’t bother him and Hotch just continued to explain it, “No, Garcia might have a lead,” he explained.

Spencer perked up at the suggestion, “What?” He asked, sounding almost as desperate as the others.

You were friends with all of them, having gone on constant missions with them. They had never imagined anything bad to happen to you.

Hotch nodded, “She traced the journey of the man who dropped this off. He had met with some other man earlier today and this is him. Winston Binford, a thirty year old-“ he started to explain but Derek shook his head, standing up and slamming his hand onto the table.

“I don’t care, lets go find this sick son of a bitch,” he spat out.

There was this anger inside of him that he had not felt in a very long time. There was a desperation in his words and they could all see how much you meant to him and how much he needed to get you back.

He had lost so many people in his life, so many people that he had cared about. He would do anything to save his father back when he was a kid and now, he was going to do anything to save you. He would kill anyone that he needed to, he would do anything

Hotch understood his anger, he would be angry too if it was someone he loved and so he didnt reprimand him, “Calm down,” Derek took a deep breath, nodding his head, “We cant go rushing into this. We need to get a warrant and then we will go,”

“What if he kills her?” He asked, voice cracking.

Rossi stood up, looking at his friend, “He wont kill her,” he laid a hand on his shoulder as he promised him that, promised that nothing would harm her.

You were hungry and you were thirsty and you were tired. Everything hurt and ached and you didnt know how much longer you were going to be able to survive in the room, how much longer you would last.

It felt like there was this ticking time bomb in the room and you just had to hope that either your friends would come and save you or that he would kill you fast enough that it wouldn’t hurt too bad.

For your entire life, you had never had this fear of dying. You didnt want to leave your friends and family but it didnt scare you. However, right now, as you were staring death in the face, just waiting for the moment that the man came and cut the string, you were scared. You didnt want to leave Derek, not now that you two had moved in together and were in love. You didnt want to leave your family or the team who had become a second family to you.

The sound of footsteps started to get closer and in your sleep deprived state, you didnt hear that it sounded like there was more than one person.

Your eyes were trained on the doors, waiting for the moment that your captor decided to finally kill you and you were shocked to see the man who opened the door.

It was Derek Morgan, the love of your life, standing at the door, one hand still on the handle. He seemed in shock that he had finally found you.

Behind him were Emily and Rossi and the two of them looked at one another after taking in your appearance. They seemed horrified at the treatment that you had endured and you could hear Hotchs voice yelling out as he searched for the man that had done this for you.

The first thing Derek did was rush over to you. He instantly dropped to his knees in front of you, watching as you started to cry at the sight of him, chest heaving up and down in sobs. He wanted to kiss you all over, kiss away all the injuries that this man had caused but he had time to do that. Right now he needed to get you out of here.

“Let me get these ties off of you baby, okay,” his hands reached around her body, a knife that you hadnt even noticed before in his hands as he cut the zip ties away, “You’re okay,” his voice was comforting, the familiar lull of it bringing you back to reality.

As soon as they were off, you fell into his arms. He barely had any time to worry about your bloody wrists from where the zip ties had been cutting into your skin and instead focused on the fact that you were here.

He had never seen you cry a lot but today, you just collapsed into his arms, arms wrapped around his neck, hand grasping onto the back of his shirt. You sobbed into his chest, trying to grab at anything to make sure that he was real. You wanted to make sure that he wasnt just a figment of your imagination.

Dereks lip quivered, tears burning in the back of your eyes as he tried to comfort you instead of falling apart himself. One hand reached up and he brushed a hand over the top of your head, trying to calm you down.

“You’re safe baby, you’re safe,” he promised. He repeated the words over and over again, making sure that you understood that nobody was going to hurt you ever again.

As he held you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, he let a single tear slip out. He had realised that if you would have died then he wouldn’t know how to go on with his life. He loved you more than anything else in the world and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, letting you calm down and just relish in the fact that you had one another, that you were finally safe.

Derek pulled back, looking at you. He brushed the dried blood from your cheek and then let his hand rest there. For a second, he just allowed himself to understand that you were here in his arms and that you were safe.

“Come on, let’s go get you to a medic doll, you’ll be okay,” he brushed his finger over your cheekbone and you nodded, breaths still shaky.

When he realised how cold you were, presumably from the environment that you had been held captive in, he pulled off the jacket that he had been wearing and draped it across your shoulders. You pulled it close, leaning your head down and taking a deep breath of your boyfriends scent.

It was comforting, something that reminded you of the apartment that the two of you had just moved into together, that reminded you of everything that you had waiting for you at home.

For the first time, you opened your mouth, “I wanna go home,” your voice was croaky and hoarse, probably because of the lack of food and water you’d had.

He nodded, his heart hurting for you as he realised the conditions that you had been in and the effects that it had in you, “Ill take you home baby, we just have to get you checked up,” he explained.

You nodded in response and he helped you up, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, he wasnt going to let go of you now, not ever. His touch comforted you, allowing you to stay grounded and not worry about your captor.

You walked out of the building, eyes squinting at the morning light. You couldn’t believe that you had been there for a day and a half now but it was behind you now.

The two of you stopped at the front of the ambulance and he turned so that he was looking at you. He placed two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so that he was looking at you. When your eyes met, he could see the fear in your eyes and he wanted to get rid of all of that and make it all go away.

“Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” His voice cracked as he asked the hardest questions, “You can tell me baby,”

You shook your head and he nodded, believing you. He sat you down on the edge of the ambulance before calling a medic over to come look at you. He held you hand throughout the whole thing, making sure that you felt safe and looked after.

A few hours later, Hotch had the man in custody and he was never going to see the light of day again. You thought that would help you rest as you sat on the plane, trying to close your eyes and fall asleep but it didnt help. Instead, every time you closed your eyes, you were back there, screaming for anyone to help you. In your entire life, you had never felt so weak, so useless.

Everyone was asleep, the low hum of the plane engine being the only noise in the room - well apart from Rossi’s sporadic snoring. You could mute the noise out, the click of Spencer's pen as he tried to jot down some notes from today to give to Hotch to make his job easier and you didn't even hear the steady beating of Derek's feet as he walked back from the bathroom.

You had zoned compiler out and they understood that. All of them had their own share of near death experiences, of moments that someone could have pulled the trigger at them.

None of them had been held captive before, just you and Spencer. He had gone through worse, being killed and resuscitated which lead to an addiction that he barely managed to escape from.

You wondered if you would struggle as much as Spencer did after his kidnapping. There was a guilt in your chest as you compared them. He actually died and you were just held hostage, nothing really bad happened to you. So why did you feel so awful? So ashamed?

Derek sat in the seat across from you and you barely registered him being there. You were off in your own world, feeling ashamed as you sank into the feeling of self-pity at what had happened.

You flinched at the light touch on your knee and Derek pulled his hand back, an almos guilty look on his face. He didnt know how to care for you now, how to make sure you are okay when nothing else is.

There was a guilt bearing down on your chest as you looked at the hurt flash across his face. You didnt want to pull away but after what had happened earlier, you didnt know how to articulate what you meant.

It was silent after that, neither of you knowing what to say to make the other feel better.

When the plane landed, everyone started to grab their stuff, walking off the plane. You just stood there, staring at your bag, thinking about going home as a slightly different person.

JJ looked at Derek, giving him a look that asked if you were okay. He shook his head, walking over to her, “Give us a minute?” She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile before she walked out of the plane to go tell the rest of the team that they would have to wait.

He took a deep breath as he walked over to you, tapping you gently on the shoulder,r trying not to scare you too much. He didnt fail to notice the way that you jumped slightly at the feeling of his touch but still turned around, looking up at him.

“You wanna talk doll?” He asked, voice soft.

You took a shaky breath, looking away from him for a second. He knew your tells, and that was one of them - you were nervous.

He took your hand and you looked up at him. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, “Are you okay?” He knew it was a stupid question but it needed to be asked. He knew that you weren’t okay but he needed to know the extent to your pain and how he could help you.

Nobody had asked you the question yet, clearly not wanting to see your reaction - and knowing that it was normally a stupid question to ask someone who had gone through trauma. Your lip quivered, eyes meeting his and when they did, he saw the tears that were building up in your waterline.

“No,” you muttered, one of the only things that you had said to him since you got back.

Derek took that as a good sign and he nodded, taking a step closer and this time, you didnt back away in fear, you let him get closer. He nodded, “You wanna talk about it?” He repeated his question from earlier.

You pursed your lips together, clearly thinking the question over. You shook your head, “Not yet,” he nodded in response, understanding why you wouldnt want to. Your next question shocked him though, “Just hold me?”

There was a beat of silence as Derek thought. It was strange that you had been avoiding his touch and now you were asking for it but he didnt care, just knowing that if this was what was best for you than he would do it. He would do anything that you asked.

He held his arms out, letting you take the first step. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, hands tightening against the back of shirt as you grounded yourself. You buried your head in his chest, taking a deep breath as you inhaled the familiar scent of your boyfriend.

You had missed him more than anything when you were gone. You didnt know how you would live without him and after the events of the last week, he felt the exact same.

He was shocked for a second at the tightness of your hug and the way you held onto him but he just smiled, knowing that this was more like the old you. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours,

One hand was splayed on your back, pressing you tightly against him and the other was on the back of your head, holding you close. He could stay here forever, hold you until you need to knew that he would never let go again.

It was muffled against his shirt but he could make out your words, “I love you,” you hadnt said those words since you were kidnapped, too scared that something else bad would happen.

He smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “God, I love you so much,” he muttered into the top of your head.

You pulled away slightly, moving your hands so that they rested on his chest. You leaned against him as you looked up into his eyes. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and you leant up, pressing your lips against his.

He closed his eyes instantly, melting into your touch. He hadnt been able to kiss you since the events and as his hand came up to cradle your face, holding you like a porcelain doll that might break, he knew that this is where he belonged - in your arms.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you again,” he pulled back, whispering the words against your lips.

Your eyes fluttered open and you nodded, “Okay,” you whispered. You believed him, you knew he would look after you forever, “Can we go home?”

He nodded, taking your hand in his as he pulled back from the hug, still standing close enough to you, “Let’s go,”

What you didnt know was that the next week before the two of you were meant to go back into work, he had driven you to Rossis house. You stood outside of the door in the nice dress that Derek had bought for you a while back and looked at him confused, “What are we doing here?” You questioned.

In the few days that you had been back, he had seen you coming back to your old self. He had seen more smiles on your face and even though you both had basically spent the week in your shared house, lying in bed and just relishing in one another’s company or sitting in the garden admiring the world, you seemed happier already.

The team wanted to do something good for you and make you feel better after everything that had happened. He didnt want you to be scared to come back to work so he thought this would be nice for you.

“Just seeing our friends,” he promised, ringing the doorbell.

Penelope opened the door and smiled at you as you stood there. She instantly pulled you into a hug and you reciprocated it, feeling as she hugged you tightly.

She let go of you, her hand still on your shoulder, “Come in, come in,” she ushered you in and you looked at Derek, a wide smile on his face.

His hand rested on the small of your back as you walked into the house, seeing all of your friends and team members standing at the table, all looking at you and Derek.

You looked at him and he smiled at you, “You didn't have to do this guys,” you said.

“Come here kid,” Rossi said and you walked over. He gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, knowing that you might not want to be touched after what had happened, “You deserve something good to happen okay,”

You nodded, looking out at all of your friends. Your eyes watered slightly as you realised that they had done this all for you, not only had they saved you from that monster but they had also made sure that you were okay afterwards.

“You guys are the best,” you said, looking out at them.

They all smiled, glad to see you okay. There was a silence in the room and you just took a moment to enjoy the fact that you were safe and you were with your friends - it was one of the things that you kept having to remind yourself of.

You knew that the feelings of worry may never fully go away, that you would never forget the fact that you were held captive for 40 hours to a man that would watch and murder women. But maybe, if you just enjoyed the company of your friends and relished in the moment then you could push it to the back of your mind.

There would be one day that you wouldn’t worry about walking to your car alone, that you wouldnt wake up in the middle of the night worried that you were back there and thi was all a dream. You just had to work up to it and with your friends, you knew that it would happen.

Rossi smiled, “Now come on, Ive made your favourite. Spaghetti and meatballs,” he explained as he ushered the group over to the table.

You laughed, realising how much effort your friends had put into making you feel better.

“They better be vegetarian,” Penelope said and Rossi scrunched his nose up in disgust.

He sat her down, “I have a separate batch for you,” he reassured.

He plated everyone up with the food, pouring wine for everyone. You looked out at the table, looking at your friends as they sat there, just enjoying each other’s company.

“This is better than fighting serial killers,” Emily joked.

You laughed and it was one of the first times that they had seen it since you had been kidnapped. Emily smiled, a proud look on her face as she realised she had made you laugh.

Derek smiled too, happy that you were coming back to your old self. He grabbed your hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles, never taking his eyes away from yours.

You took a deep breath as you realsied that this was where you belonged, amongst your found family. They were always going to save you if something bad happened and you knew that now.

You reached for your glass, with the hand that wasn’t holding Dereks, and held it up, “Cheers,” you said.

They all looked at you, a smile on their faces as they all clinked their glasses between them

[wolfiesmoon]

I NEED MORE CONTENT WITH PRANKSTER YUU AND VIL😍

reader is gender neutral and is a silly prankster

ofc anything for my slavic friendo 🤭 yall get special treatment fr

i am still genuinely blown away by how well recieved that body swap fic of mine was, i've never gotten that many comments on a fic of mine before

(and how well recieved i was into the twst fandom in general, srsly guys thanks for the support💕)

You are in a silly mood today. But then again, when are you not?

You feel like causing a bit of trouble to someone, but all the fun options have already been exhausted and you doubt they'd fall for your tricks twice in a row.

However, you still do have one person you can pull a prank on, and that's Vil Schoenheit. Normally, you'd give him a special pass which lets him bypass your pranks because he's extra special to you.

But what's the fun in that? Sometimes even he deserves to be messed with a little. Also, wouldn't it be kind of unfair if Vil was the only one spared from your little tricks?

That settles it, you're sneaking into Pomefiore tonight.

You knew Vil would be out at about 7 pm, busy with a photoshoot. He told you himself. Beginner mistake.

You're already cooking up a funny prank to pull. It's an expensive one, but his reaction will be worth the empty wallet. You can always work a few shifts at the Mostro lounge to make the money back.

Once 7 pm hit, you quietly snuck into Pomefiore, trying your damn hardest to sneak into Vil's room without getting caught.

"What are you doing here?" A very familiar voice stopped you in your tracks just as you were about to reach the door to Vil's room. And you were so close, too.

"Good evening to you too, Epel." You greeted him, slightly irked by the instant interrogation. He quickly corrected himself, greeting you back with a slight stutter.

"I just realised I forgot something in Vil's room." This actually wasn't a bad excuse at all since you often visit Vil and Epel knows that. You mostly just let him experiment on you with makeup or let him talk about his passions. Which is always a pleasure.

"Why do you have a backpack, then?" Epel glanced at the backpack which was hanging off your shoulder. He didn't mean to doubt you, but even he's been a victim to your pranks before. You're being really suspicious, but then again, it feels like you're always planning something.

"They're books, and thick ones too. They'd be difficult to carry with my hands." You shrugged, subtly showing the conversation is over as you placed your hand on the doorknob.

Of course, that part about the books was a lie. Your backpack was filled with "skincare products". They looked exactly like Vil's skincare, but really, all the bottles were filled with mayonnaise.

It's very convenient that mayo is coloured moderately like skincare products, and if it wasn't, you made sure to color match it with dye. You even tried replicating the original smell on some of them. Buying all that skincare from Sam was truly eye opening to just how expensive Vil's shiny skin is.

You're going to swap out his actual skincare with your counterfeit mayo skincare. You would pour out the contents of the original bottles and simply refill them but you have a feeling you'd never escape Vil's wrath if you did that and that's the one thing you definitely do not want to happen.

You placed the mayo skincare on his vanity table, carefully replacing each cream and balm one by one exactly as they were placed originally. Ohohoho, this is going to be great.

You put Vil's actual skincare back in your backpack and left Pomefiore with a sense of accomplishment. Oh, you wish you could see his initial reaction directly.

.

"Care to explain what these are?" Vil lifted one of his creams out of his bag, sat across from you in the Pomefiore lounge.

"They're uhhh... your skincare creams?" You acted innocent, like you had no clue why he was taking that tone with you.

"I know it was you. Epel told me he saw you in Pomefiore acting suspicious yesterday." He pressed you further, serious expression on his face. Ohohoho, you suddenly feel like you're in a detective movie.

You tried not to let the satisfaction on your face show. "Huh? I was simply taking back the magical history book I left in your room. What does your facial cream have to do with it?"

"I am not here to play this game with you. What did you do with my skincare?" He did not look amused by your excuses in the least.

"Hehehehe, I might or might not have replaced it with mayonnaise." You grinned evilly at him.

"You-" he seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "I knew you switched it out with something, but mayonnaise? Really? Why do you do these things?" He knew you knew that mayonnaise was his least favourite food. And he also knew of your affinity for pranks and jokes, but it seems he's gotten a bit too comfortable with not being their victim. Just how long have you been planning this? (One day.)

"Becaaaause, it's funny. Oh man, I wish I could've seen your face when you first applied it." you snorted, imagining his expression. His face is always such a joy to look at, but you imagine it must have been especially expressive in that moment. Your snort developed into hearty laughter.

"I for one do not find it as amusing as you do." he crossed his legs, looking at you with an expression that demanded seriousness. If you weren't so comfortable around him, you would have immediately apologised and bowed gracefully. His presence sure is strong.

You tried your best to stop laughing so he wouldn't actually kick you out of Pomefiore, but it was hard. Whenever you thought you had calmed down and tried looking him in the eyes, it was right back to laughter.

After about a minute of this, Vil seemingly gave up on stopping you, expression softening slightly.

"You should know by now how important skincare is to me. Having to miss out on it this morning was a horrible experience. Which, speaking of... just what did you do to the original contents of my products?" he looked incredibly horrified at the thought of you simply throwing away the contents.

"Oh, I, uh...." you acted nervous on purpose to make him think you're confirming his fears. His eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward in the fancy lounge chair.

"...Put the original tubes and containers away in Ramshackle dorm and bought new ones to refill with mayo." he took a visible sigh of relief. His products live another day.

"Didn't that hurt your wallet?" he asked.

"Yeah, a lot. But it was worth it." you shrugged, smiling at him.

"Well, I suppose you're quite a dedicated person, too. I didn't peg you as one initially." you really are a dedicated prankster. In some aspects, he respects the commitment. In others, he thinks you were kind of stupid for spending so much money just to annoy him.

"Always have been, pookie bear, always have been." you jokingly blew a kiss at him.

He cleared his throat, cheeks dusting pink. How ungraceful.

"I like you when you're angry." you blurted out after a few seconds of silence.

"...You're strange." he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Hahahaha, I knowwww. It's just, like... when you're angry with me for pulling a silly prank on you, it feels different. Your face becomes all expressive and stuff. Oh, and also, it's like, really hot." you recall watching a few movies which he acted in and you felt all giddy when he got angry playing the hot villain. As much as you know he dislikes being typecast, you always simp for him quite excessively when he plays a villain.

"Then why have you only pulled one prank on me so far?" he ignored that last comment after a few moments of consideration. He supposes the pranks would lose their effect if you did them too much, but if you really get that much enjoyement out of his misery, then why have you waited so long?

"Oh, that's because you get a special no-prank pass. You get it since I love y-" you paused.

"I realise I've said too much... I mean, uhhh, that was a prank! Got you! Hahahaha!" Suddenly, you wanted to remove yourself from Pomefiore, so you did just that. You quickly left the dorm without saying goodbye. You cringed at yourself for how unnatural and forced that laughter sounded.

He blinked a few times at the sudden end of the conversation and then fell back on the lounge chair.

"That little... Oh, your real goal is to make me lose my mind, isn't it..." Vil pressed his fingers against his forehead, mumbling that to himself before going to sort out some paperwork. He's wasted far too much time dealing with you anyways.

He denied any accusations from Rook about his cheeks being more pink than before.

[moonlightdancer26]

I will never in my life be able to understand the people who say “well okay Sirius wanted to kill someone but it’s Snape’s fault for going into the Willow.” I find it so insane because… Sirius, at the mere age of 16, had just proven that he had no regard for human life and was willing to have someone else’s blood on his hands… and all you have to say on the matter is the fact that the victim went down there in the first place? It’s just such blatant victim-blaming and I can’t even fathom how on earth they deem their argument reasonable.

What also really bugs me about their claim is that it was so normal for Snape—a teenage boy—to do. Of course a teenager would hear about/suspect something “spooky” and then would want to go to the area to check it out. Of course his curiosity would get the best of him. He’s a teenage boy, just because he made a risky mistake does not mean attempted murder is justified. It’s like kids or teens hearing about haunted houses and wanting to go there; it’s a pretty stupid idea but it’s a normal one for them to have. So many Marauder stans use “oh but they just made a mistake when they were teens” as a response to SA and waterboarding, but when the character they dislike does something that has actually been done by many teenagers and kids, they can’t feel any sympathy whatsoever? Sirius, unlike Severus, has no excuse for what he did. It wasn’t normal for his age, there’s no somewhat logical reason, and it was downright inhuman. And no, saying “but Snape followed Remus around and tried to get the Marauders expelled!” just goes right back to the fact that, had Sirius and James not started bullying Snape years prior, Severus would have had no reason to want them to get in trouble/expelled.

Another seriously messed up fact involving the prank is when you remember that if the prank had succeeded (= Snape ending up dead/mauled/infected), that meant that Remus—who would’ve been in no control of his actions and completely unable to stop it—would have been used as a murder weapon and would’ve faced dangerous consequences for Sirius’s doing. A known trait of Remus is his extreme self-loathing, which is derived from his hatred of being a “monster.” To think about how one of his best friends was willing to freely exploit his condition and use it to harm someone else “just for fun” when he knows what Remus would do to himself when he finds out is sickening. You can hate Severus all you want, but you absolutely cannot try to pin this on him when it was the most vile act Sirius had ever done in his life and an extremely important aspect of his character.

[eds6ngel]

hi, b!

i love your account and i saw that you’re okay with writing smut.

i was thinking it’s eddie and reader’s first time and he’s really soft with her? maybe he’s worried about her losing feelings or of him messing everything up by his inexperience?

thank you! <3

hey darling!! i actually made them both virgins in this, just to amp up the sweetness <33 (and because i have no experience at all) also, i made this a part 2 to my 'new girl' fic, so if you wanna check out part 1, you can read it here!!

warnings: SMUT. fem!afab!reader. p in v. fingering. handjob. blowjob. cunnilingus. lots of kissing. sex talk outside of the smut. basically just your basic sex stuff. swearing. vulgar language. fluff. comfort. established relationship. r is 18, eddie is 20 [4.1k].

You and Eddie have been dating for three months by this point. You had done the most that normal horny teenagers had done: kissing, making out, grinding, hell, you even tried your part at having sex. However, it didn’t go successfully the first time.

The both of you had no idea what to do. Eddie condoms expired, so you agreed to do it without one, which was mistake number one. You weren’t wet enough whatsoever, the both of you skipping all foreplay. And to top it all off, Eddie pushed in all the way without thinking, causing you to scream out in pain and call it quits for the night.

Since then, you both avoided ridding of any clothes closely tied to a sexual nature, the pair of you scared to death that your mutual lack of knowledge was going to cause harm again.

You and Eddie both agreed that the failed first attempt was not going to be classed as your ‘first time,’ despite what society would try and argue against. You both wanted it to feel special, the relationship going strong so far, a failed ‘first time’ not ruining that for you.

You actually went out to the library both together and on separate occasions to research about sex. Eddie’s first recommendation was to sit down and watch porn together, you having to explain that in no shape or form would a woman in real life ever want to live out the fake fantasy of a porn film. Besides, it was also a very fucking weird thing to do.

Hawkins was a very religious town, you searching high and low for anything that didn’t bring up the topic of abstinence. And even when looking past that, the woman’s pleasure was always disregarded, the term ‘submit’ popping up more times than you and Eddie would like to recall. With you just turning 18 and Eddie 20, Hawkins Library gave you permission to access the restricted section, much to a very pleased Eddie. You had to keep him on track most of the time, Eddie getting distracted by the mature content.

“Baby, come on. We’re looking for books on sex, not Satanism.”

With even the restricted books being more sanitised than you would’ve liked, at least some of the authors knew what they were talking about, especially the female ones, to no surprise. You learnt about safety, to foreplay, to pleasure points, to techniques, your joint knowledge growing by the minute.

It had been around a month of research for the two of you, preparing for whenever the appropriate time would be to try again.

Which was tonight.

You and Eddie were sat on his couch watching a cheesy horror flick, Wayne working a night shift, leaving the two of you in the trailer alone, with no interruptions.

You were lying on Eddie’s lap, his ringed hand mindlessly threading through your hair as you focused on the killer slashing the victims on screen, fake blood pouring out of them as they perished to the ground.

“Babe?” you pipe up, Eddie humming in response, “How’s research been going?”

Eddie chuckles as you both look at each other, “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“We’re studying sources to learn new facts, sounds like research to me,” you smile.

Eddie kisses the crown of your head, “Just doesn’t sound very manly, does it? ‘What have you been up to recently Eddie?’” he says, putting on an overexaggerated posh accent, “’Oh nothing much, just researching how to have sex with my girlfriend.’ People would think I’m insane, sweetheart.”

You shift yourself so you are lying on your stomach, wrapping your arms around Eddie’s neck and shrugging, “You can make anything sound manly babe. You could word in a way such as ‘I’ve been reading up on ways to pleasure my girl better.’ That’s such a hotter way to put it.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “Yeah,” he drags out, “But, I’m not looking into how to make the sex better, I’m looking into how to even start having it.”

“Better than most people,” you reply, “Many of my friends have told me that they don’t even get to cum when they have sex with their boyfriends. At least you’re trying.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of sex?” Eddie asks, as if a stupid question, “To make your girl feel good?”

“Unfortunately baby, most men just have sex for themselves. They just want the feeling of a vagina wrapped around their dick.”

Even though the two of you had a horrific first attempt, you were both still very sex positive. Just because you didn’t have it didn’t mean you were in any way uncomfortable talking about it.

“Stupid,” Eddie mumbles with a shake of his head, “They could just jerk themselves off for the same effect, stop wasting a girl’s time.”

“Is that what you do?” you tease him, “Just in between the research, you have a ten minute jerking break?”

“I get hot and bothered sometimes, okay?” he laughs, “There’s some very graphic images in there. S’hard to concentrate.”

And from your position sitting in his lap, it might not just be the research that gets him that way. “You sure you’re not feeling the same way now, baby?” you purr, looking deep into his eyes.

He groans slightly as you grind your hips into his, “Jesus sweetheart, if I wasn’t already before, I definitely am now.”

Your lips connected together in a passionate kiss, the pair of you grinding into each other as your tongues explored each other’s mouths. This was something you’d done before. As your relationship developed, you realised how easy it was to dissect society’s words surrounding sex. If it were society defining your relationship by its standards, you two would’ve technically lost your virginities to each other in the first month of the relationship. Grinding was a simple task to get the two of you going, even making each other cum by it. It was just further than that where you guys had an issue, which is why both still class yourselves as virgins.

As you break apart, you lift Eddie’s shirt off, him doing the same to you, looking into your eyes, asking, “Are we really about to do this?”

“I’m game if you’re game,” you reply.

He smirks, “Baby, I’m always game.”

You giggle as you begin to litter kisses down his neck, him moaning out as you find his sweet spot, his hands gripping tighter at your waist. You make a trail down his chest to his stomach, him gripping your hair as you do so, his head falling back against the couch. There was just something about your lips that were so intoxicating to him.

You reach the waistband of his pants, Eddie switching into his grey sweatpants the minute he stepped into his trailer. He was a metalhead at heart, but keeping up the physical appearance wasn’t always the comfiest.

He lifts himself up, allowing you to pull down the sweatpants, his white and blue checkered boxers on show, a visible bump from where he had gotten hard from the mere mention of you talking about sex. He hates to admit it, but this happened every time, you had just failed to notice.

You look up at him with the softest look in eyes, making sure that he was comfortable with you going further. As every book said: consent was key.

“Yeah, sweetheart, take ‘em off,” he verbalises, you nodding as you pull down his boxers, his cock springing free in front of you. You look up at him with a glint of worry, Eddie immediately taking notice. “It’s all about practice, okay? It’s you, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it regardless.”

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, Eddie already groaning above you by the mere feeling of your touch on his body. “I, um—” you stutter out, “Do I just go up and down?”

“Yeah, babe, just—” he wraps his hand around yours, the size difference sending shivers down his spine as he moves your hand in the same motion he would when he’s on his own. Yet, the slight change of you doing it in comparison to him made it all the more enjoyable. It was true what they said: it was the person, not the action.

He shudders as you begin to create a steady rhythm, you asking, “Is this good?”

He sighs, “Nothing could be better than this baby, thank you. God, fuck,” he moans out. However, what shocked him was how quick you became accustomed to him, the feeling of your tongue licking up the side of his shaft sending shivers down his spine. “Jesus fucking Christ, God.”

In your head, you were trying to recall the steps that the book you read taught you, trying your best not to mess up and cause your boyfriend to become uncomfortable. You lick the tip of his dick, seeing that Eddie loudly moans out at the feeling, hearing him say, “Just like that baby, take it down further.”

And so you do, hollowing out your cheeks as you take him into your mouth, Eddie grabbing your hair into a ball as he lightly guides you up and down, giving him maximum pleasure. You look up at him with innocent eyes, continuing to bob your head, Eddie swearing he just died and went to heaven.

He can feel his balls tightening up, Eddie yelling out, “Baby, wait, wait!” in a manner that came across a little too panicked, causing you to immediately jump off of him.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak out, beginning to ramble, “Did I get you with my teeth? Or was I too rough? God, I was probably too rough, wasn’t I—”

But, your nervous state gets cut off by Eddie grabbing your chin and pulling you into a soft kiss, you instantly cupping his cheek back. As you part, he leans your forehead against his, “It was nothing you did sweetheart, don’t worry. I just… don’t wanna cum yet,” he shyly smiles.

“Oh,” you giggle softly, “Okay.”

He kisses your cheek, making trail down your neck, “But, I do think it’s your turn to cum for me, sweetheart.”

You whimper at his words, the eagerness oozing from his throat. “Can we, um… go to your bedroom though? This is technically Wayne’s bed after all.”

Eddie chuckles, “Yeah, I don’t think he’d be too happy with that.” He shocks you by lifting you up underneath his arms, laughing to himself as he guides you to his bedroom.

As he kicks open the door with his foot, he carries you over to the bed, placing you down gently and hovering over you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. “You’ve given me all your love sweetheart, I’m here to give you mine.”

He litters kisses all over your chest and collarbones, sucking a little to visibly show that you belong to him. Nobody else was gonna get his girl.

Despite your eyes being closed, basking in the pleasure of his soft lips on your skin, you feel him reach around the back of you, trying his hardest to unclasp your bra.

Helping him out, you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck, smiling at him, “You need help with that, my love?”

“No, no, I got it,” he grits out, trying to get the hooks to come apart. “Why the hell is this so difficult?”

You giggle into his neck, deciding to press little kisses there as a form of distraction.

“Baby, don’t tease me. I’m struggling enough here.”

You laugh as you reach around yourself, pushing his hands out of the way and instantly un-hooking your bra, tossing it onto the floor.

Eddie can’t be drawn away from your breasts, his eyes practically bulging at the sight, his mouth agape. “I… um…” he stutters out, “I was gonna ask how you did that, but your tits baby… Holy shit.”

And no word of a lie, your boyfriend does grabby hands, like a child in a candy store, “Please can I touch them? Please let me touch them… Oh my God.”

You cup his face with your hands, smiling, “You can do whatever you want with them, my love.”

He breathes out, shakes his hands as he mutters, “Okay.” He pushes your breasts together, massaging them in his hands as he genuinely gawks, “Jesus… They’re perfect. You’re perfect. Fuck…”

You press a kiss to the underside of his jaw as a ‘Thank you,’ Eddie rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, a loud whine escaping your mouth.

He stops his motions, “That feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you hum, “It’s sensitive. Keep doing that.”

And he does exactly that, flicking over them, surprised that such a simple action could cause so much pleasure for you. “You need to go braless more baby, holy shit.”

“If I knew you would’ve had this reaction, I would’ve shown you them sooner,” you giggle.

“Better than any porn magazine I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles, leaning in and taking your left breast into his mouth, him pulling on your nipple, letting go with a pop. “Who needs porn when I can have you?”

“I better see the ones under your bed gone by tomorrow then,” you smirk back at him.

“Easiest decision I’ll ever make.”

He traces his thumbs over the sides of your hips as he makes a trail down from your cleavage to the bottom of your stomach, tugging at your belt, a much easier task for him than your difficult bra.

He pulls down your jeans, adding them to the increasing pile on the floor. The next thing surprises you, Eddie beginning to laugh as he places his head down on top of your cloth-covered pussy, his hair tickling the bottom of your stomach. “Shit.”

You laugh too, despite not knowing what he was giggling about, he was just infectious like that. “What, my love?” you ask with a smile.

“Took off your bra before I got to see the matching set on you,” he frowns over-dramatically.

You thread your fingers through his curls, “I’ll give you a fashion show one day.”

“That day better fuckin’ hurry the hell up,” he grumbles, delicately taking your panties off of your body, him not wanting to wreck them for the future fashion show you had just planned.

“Okay, he mumbles, situating his head between your legs, “I’ve heard that eating you out gets you wetter, so can I do that?”

You sigh happily, “Tell you what baby, we’ll do the colour coding system, okay? I’m giving you permission to do whatever you like. If I find myself uncomfortable at any point, I’ll say either ‘orange’ or ‘red.’ Deal?”

He nods, “Yeah, deal…” sighing out, “I’m sorry if I mess this up.”

You smile lovingly, “It’s you baby. You could be totally shit at this and I would love it regardless. Just like you said to me,” you reassure him.

“Well, I learnt some techniques anyway, now I get to put them to practice.”

You laugh as you hear him sigh out, “Relax baby, you got this.”

He nods, “Yeah… I got this.”

He takes his tongue and moves it straight up your pussy, causing you to push your legs in and let out a loud whine. “That easy, huh?” Eddie smirks.

You give him the same wide smirk back, “Depends on whether you can make me cum or not.”

“Challenge accepted,” he replies, moving up towards your clit and flicking it up and down, causing you to moan out in pleasure, “Eddie, fuck. Just like that baby.”

That spur encouraged Eddie to speed up his movements, flipping between an up and down motion to a side to side one, you grabbing onto and tugging at his hair, him discovering a new kink as he moans out loudly.

Eddie takes his middle finger and moves it down your folds, collecting your slick and pushing it into your hole, you immediately clenching around him as he sucks on your clit.

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie, keep doing that and you’ll make me cum,” you truthfully whine out.

“God, sweetheart, already?” he asks, speeding up the movement of his finger as he tries his best not to rut against the bed, relieving the uncomfortability of his dick straining in his boxers.

“I’m an easy girl to impress,” you sigh out, giggling at your own statement and how truthful it actually was.

Without a doubt in your mind, you begin to rut against his face, trying to get yourself to the edge as quickly as possible, which was evidently working.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum,” you mewl out.

Eddie drills his finger in and out of your pussy, sucking on your clit and shaking his head back and forth, sending you into a spiral as you fall over the edge, whining out, “Eddie, I’m cumming, fuck!”

As you come down back to reality, Eddie looks up at you, gripping tightly onto your thighs, a smile on his face as your juices drip down from his mouth, falling off of his chin. “Fuck me baby, I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I’ve never cum that hard before,” you sigh out, still relieving in the height of your orgasm, “Guess it really is the person, not the action.” Exactly what he thought.

He licks up most of the juices on his face, crawling back up to you and connecting your lips in a soft kiss, you humming as you say, “I taste better on your lips.”

Eddie groans out at your words, “I’d love to be sweet with you and all angel, but I really need to be inside you right now.”

You nod, “Then do that,” you smile back, “I noticed you got a new packet of condoms the other week.”

He leans over to his beside table and rips open the packet, replying, “Yeah… Well, I felt like my research was coming to an end.”

He takes out the condom and rolls it onto his dick, pinching the end and looking down at you, “You want it just like this or—?”

“Extra lube? Just in case?” you ask nervously, Eddie nodding as he reaches over to grab the bottle and squirts some on top of the condom, rubbing it over the entirety of it, making sure it would be comfortable for the initial entrance.

This was the part you were most nervous about. This was where it all went wrong last time. But, you took the pre-cautions. You were already wet, Eddie had a condom on, and it was well lubricated. Eddie was a little over average in terms of length, which increased your worries. But, on the flip side, a little under on the girth, the part that would make the stretch worse if he was bigger.

Eddie lines himself up with your pussy, leaning his forehead against yours, whispering, “Please sweetheart, I beg of you, use that colour coding system. I’ve heard it hurts for most women, but it should soon fade away, okay?”

You breathe out, “Okay… I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

And that was the conformation he needed, slowly pushing into you, letting you take in the feeling and get yourself comfortable. “You doing okay?” he asks.

And for you, it wasn’t even that bad. Maybe you were one of the lucky ones, you don’t know, but it was more of a mild discomfort from the stretch rather than a sharp pain that the research told you. But again, Eddie being under average in his girth may have helped, something you were thankful for compared to how most women would have judged that.

“It’s actually not that bad,” you smile, “Just keep going slow, okay? We haven’t even gotten halfway yet.”

“Okay,” he nods, pushing in another two inches, the discomfort becoming a little bit stronger as you predicted, but not unbearable. It actually caused you to moan a little, something Eddie had been doing the second his dick pushed half an inch into your vagina.

“Only a bit more, okay sweetheart?” he says softly, you nodding as he slowly pushes in the final three inches, the discomfort subsiding into pleasure as you whine out.

“Fuck…” Eddie moans, “You are so incredibly tight.”

You giggle, causing yourself to clench around him, a growl erupting from his throat. God, he was vocal, and you loved every second of it.

“You can start moving now, my love.”

This was now where Eddie basically took over, his inexperience making him nervous, especially with how much he hurt you the last time. He wanted this time to be special. This was gonna be the first time for both of you, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to ruin that. He needed this to be perfect with the girl he loved.

He tried his best to find a steady rhythm, but was struggling. It felt good, but he sighed out frustratedly, you noticing his change in demeanour, “Baby, look at me. Just go in and out, don’t worry about being fast or anything. Just set a pace,” you tell him, cupping his cheeks.

“Yeah. In and out,” he mumbles, slowly pushing in and out, the two of you moaning in sync as he repeats his motion, before he finds himself a rhythm that you both enjoy, noted by a series of whines an groans.

“That’s it, you got it baby,” you say, supported by a sigh.

“That feels so fuckin’ good,” he groans out, deciding that he could speed up now that he found a good rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, your head falling back against the pillows on Eddie’s bed.

You had always heard that wrapping your legs around your partner’s back would somehow push them even deeper, sending women spiralling down the route of an orgasm.

So, you tried it, reaching your legs around Eddie’s waist, pulling him in closer, hitting something at the back of your pussy that you could only describe as mind-blowing. “Harder, Eddie, please!”

And so he complied, pushing himself both deeper and harder into you, the boy falling apart on top of you. You could only imagine how good this felt for him.

But, once he changed angles, it was over for you. This is what the G-spot must’ve been. You could feel his dick sliding across the top of your vagina, hitting a spot that sent shivers down your spine.

The atmosphere was constant skin slapping against skin, a series of “Fucks” and “Shits” being moaned out by the two of you. You were praying to God none of the neighbours in the trailer park could hear any of this.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Eddie chokes out, his pace already faltering as you reply through broken moans, “Me neither baby, cum with me.”

He moves his hand down to rub your clit, making sure you reach your peak since his thrusts were no longer as hard as they were a mere few minutes ago.

That sensation combined with his dick brushing past your G-spot over and over again caused you to see stars, a loud whine erupting from your throat as you choke out, “Baby, I’m cumming!”

The feeling of your orgasm causing your walls to tighten around him pushes him over too, him stuttering before coming to a halt. You can feel his whole body shake against you, a loud groan mixed in with a whine being let out as his dick pulses in your pussy.

As you both come down from your highs, your pants are the only thing heard in the all but silent atmosphere. Eddie smiles, trying to not let himself fall on top of you as he lets out a “Whoa…”

“Yeah, whoa…” you giggle, Eddie slowly pulling out, taking the condom off and tying it up. “Shit, I don’t have a trash can in here…”

You laugh at him, “You don’t have one in here?”

He begins to walk out to the kitchen, yelling back so you can hear, “Why do you think I have all that shit lying around my room, sweetheart?”

As he appears back in the doorway, you’ve tucked yourself under the covers, replying with, “Good point.”

He shows his goofy smile, one where he shows off his teeth. Your favourite kind of smile on him. He tucks himself under the covers with you, the pile of clothes being left in the middle of his room. You could sort that out tomorrow.

Eddie presses a soft kiss to your forehead as you lay your head on his chest, “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

You hum in response, closing your eyes, your mind fading away as the final words you mutter are: “I love you.”

And although you can’t see it, Eddie smiles widely, gripping you tighter as he leans his head on top of yours, whispering back, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

And that was the day he knew, you were definitely a keeper.

i hope you enjoyed this my love! and if anything is inaccurate, don't be afraid to let me know <33

[asharaks]

okay so a large part of my issue with halsin is that his character feels inconsistent, right. like larian wanted him to be a wise older man mentor character but then they wanted him to be fuckable, and they wanted him to be a nontraditional/nonmonogamous romance, so they made him sexually experienced and confident and casual, but he's also a romance option, so he talks about having Feelings for the player character. and then he needed to be a quest-giver, so he needed to ask for help. and what we ended up with is "guy who up and abandoned his responsibilities at the first chance of adventure, got captured and needed rescuing, makes all sorts of comments about his sexual experience but loses all self control and wildshapes at the first glimpse of ass, tells you he has feelings for you to get you in bed then leaves at the end of the game, and makes inappropriately sexual comments abt the sexual abuse victim if you're romancing him" - all of which reads as an uncomfortable, unlikeable mess of a guy.

halsin suffers from a lack of focus - he's neither a full romance on the level of the origin companions, nor is he a fling or sub-romance; he got more care and attention than wyll, in some ways, but the writing is flaky and weak and makes him look, frankly, like an incompetent, immature manchild. the bear scene is grossly pubescent (it should've been player choice to initiate that, not have it dropped on you that if he gets too horny there's a risk he'll CAST A SPELL and turn into a literal animal. by mistake. and if that's his reaction to seeing tits what's gonna happen when he cums) and the way he pushes for astarion to join you if you tell him you're in a relationship feels wildly inappropriate.

I know halsin has a history of sexual abuse himself (and I've seen good analyses/critiques of the way that's handled) but again I find it weird that finding out about that is locked behind not just a sex scene but a threesome+ scene - the writers really wanted to drive home that This Guy Fucks to the point where he comes across as pushy, and his trauma is reduced to background noise in a scene where he is essentially a sex object. he is simultaneously objectified by the writers, and in-universe by himself and those around him, but instead of exploring that we're just supposed to go with it; likewise, his lack of commitment and emotional immaturity aren't problems in and of themselves, but it feels like the writers aren't aware that that's the character they've written, and so these things are never appropriately addressed, and his arc and romance don't match up with the other characters' stories about growth and development.

not rly sure where I'm going with this, but it bothers me!! I think it's a nasty mix of the writers' intentions at a cross purpose with the push for fanservice, and the whole thing leaves a sour taste in my mouth t b h.

[obitohno]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]

exhale

takami keigo x reader

synopsis ⤸

with such a pretty neck, you must simply allow keigo's hands to wander.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, reader is in heat, mating, marking, hickeys, choking, asphyxiation, breath play, nipple play, cowgirl, riding, creampie, knotting, petnames, dubcon

word count ⤸

1.3k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

this is an elaboration of the 'let's talk positions' hc that i posted for mha a short while ago. i just feel like keigo's go-to position is cowgirl, just bc he loves to see you ride him, hhh. anyways, i've never written about breath play before, so i hope that this isn't too terrible. pls reblog if you enjoy ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

you’ve long become accustomed to the way that keigo’s lips regularly favour the gentle slope of your neck at all hours of the day, with the promise of more to come. 

more often than not, a press of his lips to your pulse results with the weight of his cock dragging along the gummy texture of your inner walls, your legs curled tightly around his waist as your whispered gasp of his name is greedily swallowed, and then returned with a moan of his own. and today is no different. 

it’s still early morning, and the left side of your body is illuminated by a hibiscus coloured shimmer that filters in through the minuscule gap in the hastily drawn curtains, the sun only just starting to wake. from where you bend and bow above him, keigo is privy to the way that your jaw drops, a quiet mewl forming the syllables of his name, heavily lidded gaze focused on the rapid rise and fall of his chest. his, however, is glued to the bruises that proudly claim your neck as his own, satisfaction warming his chest as he leers at the marks that he’d nipped and sucked to the surface of your skin just a few hours prior. 

heat boils your blood, head dizzy with a hormonal charge that has had your cunt weeping for the past day or so. in return, he swells with the need to claim you once more, to stuff you full until you have no choice but to allow the slow dribble of his seed to ooze from where his knot has plugged you, time and time before. your nails bite into where you cling at his shoulders, dazed as you desperately hump yourself on his length, a low keen fanned out from between your lips.  

your hips gyrate, the heat of your walls clenching tight around the width of him, and a gasp is choked from your mouth when a particularly rough bounce of your pelvis connecting with his has your clit grinding against the coarse pubic hair that nestles his girth. 

the sunlight illuminates the shadows of your collarbones, also painted with the pattern of his teeth, and his hand raises to thumb at a distinctively large one that has been fastened to the pulse that thump, thump, thumps under your skin. 

pride puffs his chest, the pad of his thumb stroking down the length of your neck, and the following gasp that attempts to escape your lips is cut short by the curl of his fingers attaching themselves around your throat. 

perspiration has already formed a sheen on your nape, and above him, you watch the dilation of his pupils, his digits tightening until your breath is stolen. your throat closes, and yet you continue to fuck yourself, the rise and fall of your pussy gliding up, down, up, down, up down, until your thighs are shaking, your arousal pooling a mess onto the sheets that are already long stained with the aftermath of the night before. 

it isn’t often that he’s able to indulge in your heat like this. unlike him—who falls victim to the dreaded seasonal rut that drives him feral at least twice a season—you’re lucky enough to avoid the fire that burns under the surface of your skin for majority of the year. yesterday, however, you’d awoken with the all-too familiar itch that had had you begging until he’d meticulously fucked you into the early hours of the morning. he’d made the mistake of assuming that when you’d fallen asleep, it had meant that you were sated for the night. only, your distressed moan had stirred him from his sleep just a few hours later, and here you are now, impaled atop him, your pretty neck encased within his grip. if he’s being honest, he’s exhausted, the joints of his wings weary as he grinds his pelvis upwards. but your stuttered groan sounds so sweet, so needy, that a warmth spreads across his abdomen, a coil twisting tight from deep within. 

his fingers slip away, and your shoulders hunch as you struggle to gasp in air, your chest heaving, forehead thumping against his collarbone. the heat of your breath fans across his skin, and his head spins, a groan punched from his lungs. your fingers scrabble to find purchase upon him, only to catch on the joint of which his right wing protrudes from between his shoulders. 

he yells, a hoarse sound that has your clit throbbing, an electric twinge jolting through the expanse of his wing and down his spine. he shivers, one that has his entire body trembling, and you lift your head to watch the way that his feathers bristle, the quills standing on end as delirium stretches his lips wide. 

the muscles that control his wings are working to stretch the blindingly scarlet feathers high above his head, and the points of his teeth are sharply nipping along the length of your jaw. he preens, pupils flitting between contracting and dilating, and he nuzzles, nosing at the space beneath your ear as his lips mould to your shoulder, forming yet another mark as he suckles at your skin. 

‘baby bird,’ he coos, lips aiming for the curve of your cheek next. his cock twitches, your sopping walls dancing and fluttering as he slurs, ‘touch y’self f’me, birdie.’ 

dazed, you fumble to do as he says, the pads of your fingers circling at your clit, teasing, stroking yourself toward completion. you’re choking on another moan, when, for the second time tonight, his fingers curl around your neck. your hips have long slowed to a gentle grind, your thighs now depleted of all energy as you struggle to remain upright. his spare hand comes to lick at his fingers before reaching to cruelly tug at your left nipple, his smirk widening when a garbled shriek is painfully forced from the back of your throat. wide eyed, you stare at him, and a dark part of him relishes in the brief flash of panic that mars your features, your fingers stilling between your legs. 

‘ah, ah,’ he tuts, flicking at your nipple with the flat of his nail, ‘keep goin’ pretty bird. gotta cum f’me if you want me to fill you up, nice ’n’ full.’ 

eagerly, your fingers are massaging at your clit, and your spine arches, his spare arm circling around your waist, bicep flexing as he pulls you flush against him. the added pressure of your hand trapped to your pussy has you choking, and he greedily inhales the slight shift of your scent, your orgasm beginning to crest. however, just as your cunt begins to cream, he’s thrusting, drilling his cock into you at the same time that his fingers grip just a little harsher, and you’re rendered into little more than putty in the palm of his hands. 

your breath is stolen, and yet, you cum so hard that you white out, body slumping against his. 

you’re unconscious for less than ten seconds, but when you come to, it is with a dizzying wheeze that hurts to inhale, the stringy pearls of his seed already staining your walls, his knot locked tight inside you. arms circled tight around your torso, his fingers are tickling their way down the length of your spine, his lips pressing to your temple when you whimper his name into the crook of his neck, tone pained when you make the mistake of swallowing a little too harshly. his skin is warm against yours, and for what feels longer than it probably is, he simply nestles you within the safety of his embrace, his wings curling, encasing the two of you within your very own cocoon. exhaustion renders you useless, and from where you are perched on his lap, you slump, welcoming the dark shadows of his wings that loom high above your head. only, all too soon, that familiar heat is bubbling away at your core once more, and despite the fact that you attempt to ignore it, the low baritone of his voice has you jolting from your doze against his shoulder, his tone laced with the promise that the morning has only just begun. 

‘you with me, birdie?’ 

‘’m with you, kei.’ 

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works. 

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Idk if this is angst but here's the ask

Bau team x male reader that grew up in a rich but cold family

Since he's an only child he was always expected to be perfect and be the best student or be good in multiple things like playing the piano and painting and golf and in the same time attention formal parties but now he's burnt out maybe or doesn't understand that it's OK to make mistakes

Warnings: talk to cold and distant family, perfectionist mindset.

You fucked up. Badly, no ifs ands or buts. You had messed up big time and you nearly lost a victim because of it. Luckily, Reid had spotted your mistake and you and the team had managed to get to the victim on time, saving him. But then, you fucked up again and now the unsub was still on the loose.

You were dreading getting back to the station, Hotch had been giving you looks that you couldn't quite decipher since Reid had pointed out your mistake. You were shitting bricks, quite frankly.

When you arrived back at the station, Hotch motioned for you to follow him into the break room and you did, legs feeling like lead. Shutting the door behind you, you turned to him, "I'm sorry Hotch, I didn't mean to miss it-"

"I just wanted to check that you were okay," Hotch said. "You've been acting off for a few days now and I'm worried."

"Why are you worried? I'm fine," You dismissed, "I made a mistake Hotch, shouldn't you be reprimanding me for it?"

"Why?" Hotch asked. "You're allowed to make mistakes," Hotch says, you flush red as you look down at your hands.

'No. Others are allowed to make mistakes.' You think to yourself. You had expectations you had to live up to. You had to be perfect. You didn't have time to make mistakes.

"What's going on?" Hotch asks hesitantly, he knew you weren't one to talk about your feeling, that you tended to just let them build and build and build and then you'd shut yourself off from everyone.

"I have... expectations." Hotch also knew that when something was affecting you, you built a wall around yourself. He knew that when you got like this, you separated yourself the best you could to emotions. Hotch wasn't supposed to profile his team, but he could imagine that perhaps this was because of a distant family who expected ridiculously high for a child. He could also imagine that this had been internalised growing up and still affected your day-to-day life.

"What expectations?" He asked. "To be perfect?"

"Hotch, I can't make mistakes in a job like this. If Reid hadn't caught it, we could have lost him." You pressed, "I can't afford to make mistakes in a job like this."

"We all make mistakes." Hotch stated, "Do you really think that we don't make mistakes?"

You sighed, you knew everyone made mistakes. Really, you did. But it had been drilled into you that you needed to be the best possible version of yourself. You needed to be perfect. Mistakes weren't an option. Mistakes meant failure.

Hotch sighs gently, "You don't need to be perfect all the time," He begins, "We're human, we're meant to make mistakes. It helps us grow."

"I can't afford to make mistakes." You state.

"Why not?"

You debate just leaving it, not saying anything. And you would have, had Hotch not looked so concerned, "Mistake means failure." You say, with a firm nod before looking at Hotch. "And I can't afford to fail in this job. I need to be better."

"(Y/N), we all make mistakes. I've made plenty of mistakes on the job." Hotch says, he watches you shift slightly where you stood. "Okay, here's the deal, you go back to the hotel, rest for the rest of the day and tomorrow is a fresh start."

"Because I made a mistake?"

"Because you're burnt out." Hotch corrects. "You've been pushing yourself ridiculously hard and you need a break."

"I'm fine-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer on this, I'm afraid." Hotch said, "Go to the hotel, rest, get some sleep. Tomorrow you'll feel refreshed."

"Fine," You huffed, "But only because I have to."

"And, (Y/N)?" You turn to look at Hotch. "We're going to have to work on that perfectionist mindset."

"Is it really problematic though?"

"Yes."

"Ugh, fine." You groaned, "But let the record state that I disagree."

[q-starhalo]

ALRIGHT ALL YOU BBH ENJOYERS! YOU LITTLE GHOSTIES! Here are some lines from when Bad was expressing his anger with Pomme (who was also upset) that I think are very neat because my gosh were those lines so good.

(I tried to get them exact so apologies if some are long or not actually accurate)

"It also highlights the fact that that son of a gun thought that he could take my son? My son Pomme. From me?"

"Does he think he's going to intimidate me by taking my son? This- If anything, this motivates me even more!"

"The ONLY thing I could say is that he is grateful not a hair on Dappers head looks like it was harmed. Because if his hat had been so much as askew, I would have ended his existence right there."

"Quackity was given Pandoras Box, and he made the mistake of opening it."

"There will be blood, Quackity."

"I'm going to find whoever signed off on this, I'm going to find whoever's remotely responsible. Everybody, every single person who was connected with my sons kidnapping, and I will make them all suffer. Every single one, Pomme. Every single person who is remotely connected. I don't care who it is."

"He better hope I don't win the election. Cause if I win, ohhh. Oh my gosh. If I win. Quackity has no idea what he is just put his foot into."

"He stooped to the level of this. Of laying his grimy little mitts on what should not be touched. You do not touch my son. Nobody touches my children. Nobody."

"I'm going to pay him back for it 100 times over. That's always been my philosophy, Pomme. When someone messes with you, you return the favor 100 times over. And you send the message not to mess with you again."

"I'm pretty easy going Pomme. I'm pretty easy going. I don't hold a grudge. I live and let live. I let people do what they want. But the moment you try and touch what's important to me, you've gone too far."

"He hasn't just angered one of us, he's angered all of us."

"Laying his hands on you adorable little eggs is one step too far."

"And now he just stepped on it. He stepped on a landmine and he doesn't even realize it's about to explode under his feet."

"We need to make a list of every. single. person. Every single person we need to do payback against."

"No mercy, no quarter, no pauses, no timeouts, nothing."

"It's just me, and revenge"

"Every single person who was involved. Every single person. I don't care if it's Cucurucho. I don't care if it's ElQuackity, Quackity. I don't care if the code monster is involved. I genuinely don't. I do not care. Because anybody who is willing to do this, who is willing to threaten my boy. The apple of my eye. [...] Anyone willing to do that, willing to take one of my children from me. And use it as, as what? A threat? Leverage? Anyone willing to do that, I don't care who it is. I don't care how long it takes. I don't care if I- I don't care if it takes 100 years, I will hunt you down. And I will end you. I'll make you regret 1,000 times over what you've done. I will make you regret every single thing you did.

"And when you're on your knees, begging for mercy. When you cry out with that last breath and you say please let the tournament end, I will whisper in your ear "no""

""Why is Bad playing the victim?" I'm sorry. I'm sorry that my child was kidnapped and that inconveniences you and makes me quote on quote play the victim."

"He doesn't realize the storm, it's like a storm in a bottle, and he just like threw the bottle on the ground. And now the storm is out."

"But had Dapper been killed, there wouldn't have been forgiveness in that situation. I mean, I would've forgiven Slime eventually after I'd, you know, killed him a bunch. Maybe, had imprisoned him."

"Sale on Hot Topic items, 50% off with the code "BadBoyHalo""

[writeandsurvive]

Summary: Alden mistakes your relationship with Tobias Fornell for something it is not

Warnings: talks of grief, mentions of Emily Fornell's death, attack by a frame, wound, blood, jealousy, NCIS normal stuff

Author's note: I still think Emily's death was unnecessary but that's another debate. I had to give Tobias love bc damnit, he deserves the world. Based on ep 19x17 'Starting Over'

Permission ~ Alden Parker

Seeing Tobias Fornell walking into the bullpen brought some familiarity that instantly warmed your heart. You rushed to him, arms extended and hugged him pretty tight. "Hi sweetheart," he whispered, kissing the side of your head and returning the hug. He then greeted the rest of the team, included Alden, whom he hasn't seen in a long time. You smiled seeing them being friendly with each other and wished to see more of that.

Tobias started to talk about the victim, whom he sponsored in the grieving group, but it wasn't any help as Tobias thought Thomas was making progress. Eventually, the team got back to their desks to keep investigating while your favorite person said he was going to say hello to Jimmy down in Autopsy.

"Permission to go with?" You asked Alden.

"Um, yeah, sure."

You immediately grabbed Tobias's hand and the two of you walked towards the elevator, unaware that Alden stared until you were out of sight. In the elevator, the former FBI agent pulled you in for another hug. "How are you today, T?" You asked softly.

"I feel like I failed Thomas." He sighed. "But I'm glad to see you. I miss you."

"I miss you too. I'm sorry work has been crazy lately,"

"Hey, hey, don't apologize. I know how it is. I guess I miss having you at home."

After Emily's death, you made the choice to move in with Tobias without asking for his opinion. He was a mess - fairly so - and you didn't like the idea of him being alone. So you had grabbed your essentials, and made yourself at home in his spare bedroom. To be fair, Tobias hadn't had the strength to fight you on this, so he just let you. He even let you when you took a few days off to stay with him, try to get him out of bed even if it was just for a walk around the block. He let you feed him, hug him as he cried, take care of the house. You also took care of Emily's funeral and all the paperwork as Tobias couldn't bring himself to do it. He was dead inside and if it wasn't for you, he probably would've done the irreparable.

"You literally packed my stuff and brought them back to my place." You reminded him.

"Because an amazing woman like you shouldn't be living with her old ass broken friend." He kissed your cheek. "Alden wouldn't understand." He softly smiled.

"We are so not doing this again."

Luckily the elevator's doors opened immediately after.

The case was moving forward, and Tobias stayed around. He clearly wanted to be a part of the case, probably out of guilt and also perhaps he missed working cases. However Alden wasn't giving him anything to do, which makes sense when you think about it - he wasn't a federal agent anymore - but that frustrated you. Seeing your friend walking around the office like a lost puppy hurt.

"I can give T my laptop and he can help me with my research." You offered.

"I said no, Agent L/N." Alden answered firmly. "You're actually coming with me to see this other woman."

You sighed but grabbed your stuff anyways. You kissed Tobias's cheek before leaving, "Sorry I tried." You whispered.

Throughout the elevator ride and the walk to the car, you could feel Alden's frustration. He wasn't speaking to you like he usually is, he wasn't even looking at you. "T could use the distraction." You said, as you got into the car.

"It doesn't have to be our case. He's not an fed anymore and he knew the victim."

"And he feels like he failed the guy! Helping us would actually help him."

"Wow." Alden chuckled dryly.

"What?"

"For years I've heard about this girl who would protect Fornell with her life, go after anyone who went after him. I honestly thought she didn't exist, but boy was I wrong."

"Do you have a problem with my relationship with Tobias?" You asked, slightly offended.

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your work and our cases, I honestly don't care."

You switched from offended to hurt. How stupid were you for thinking that Alden may reciprocate your crush. He clearly wasn't, he couldn't care less about you on a personal level. You stayed silent the rest of the ride, looking at the city through the window. Alden didn't talk either.

The silence treatment didn't stay on for long, as Thomas's other girlfriend threw a frame at Alden's after he told her about his actual wife. You jumped from the couch to check on him. "Alden, hey! You okay? Can you hear me?" He was holding his forehead but you still saw some blood dripping. "Let me see." You gently pulled his hand away and check at the wound. "Yeah you're gonna need some stitches."

The woman was still crying and shouting at you two to get out of her house. For a moment, you consider arresting her for assaulting a federal agent, but Alden simply said 'let's go' and you were walking back to the car.

You started to fish inside his coat pocket. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for the car keys." You checked the other one.

"Pants." He said, leaning against the car. "Tell me you have a tissue or something?"

After looking at him for a second, you shrugged and searches for the keys in his pants pockets. You knew it was highly inappropriate but your hands behind so close to him and his crotch, did something to you. You took a deep breath before opening the car. Once inside, you took your knife and cut a piece of your shirt. "Again, what are you doing?"

"You need some tissue."

"Well yeah but not from your own clothes."

"I don't have anything else, so it's either that or your fancy suit."

He sighed but didn't argue. You pulled his hand away again, and started to clean the blood that dripped out of the wound. You were so gentle, and so close to Alden, it made him uncontrollably blush. When you brushed his hair away, he closed your eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling. "I'm not hurting you?" You asked softly, making his heart go faster.

"N-no. It's okay."

"It's going to be fun for you to explain this scar." You giggled.

"Better than explaining the one I have on my thigh."

When he saw the curiosity on your face and your grin, he regretted every word. "Don't--"

"What happened to your thigh, Alden?" You asked, still grining. "Hold this until you get back to the office."

"I won't tell you."

You settled back into your seat and started to drive. "I can be pretty annoying and stubborn."

"Yeah, I gathered that."

You gave a death stare but a few seconds later, you were both laughing.

You didn't bother going to the bullpen but instead took Alden immediately to Jimmy in Autopsy, where Tobias and Grace were.

"I got an patient for you, Jim!" You announced almost cheerfully.

"Oh wow, what happened to you, Parker?"

Alden sat on the chair Jimmy gave him. "He got attacked by a frame." You told them, after hugging Grace.

"Aaah, those nasty things." Tobias chuckled. You moved close to him, as he was leaning against an autopsy table. You grabbed his arm with yours and leaned your head on his shoulder, and started to tell the full story while Jimmy was patching up Alden. He barely looked at you or Tobias.

Alden really tried to avoid you after that, but it was almost impossible. He hated how you told the story of his wound, not because you were saying it with a smile, but because all he could think about was the after, in the car. He could still smell you from up close, he could still feel your minty breath on his face. He's never been into a friend's girlfriend before and he had no idea what to do. All he knew was how he hated whenever you hug, kissed or touched Tobias, how jealous he felt when he heard you and Tobias making plan for the evening. Clearly you were spending the night at T's place, and he wished it was him. He almost found an excuse to make you stay but realized how petty that was. This case couldn't end fast enough.

The next day, Alden was relieved to see you coming in without Tobias. You stopped at his desk, to grab a pastry and leaned a little to have a closer look at his wound. "It's good you don't have a bruise or anything else. It is hurting?" You asked. He wished you weren't this sweet and thoughtful with him.

"It throbs at times but it's okay. I'll live."

"Good, would be a shame to lose you to a framed picture." You smiled and walked to your own desk.

A minute later, a text popped on his phone. 'What happened to your thigh?' he read. He looked up to you and you were looking all innocent, concentrating on your computer.

'None of your business. Stop thinking about my thigh and get to work.' he answered, and regretted it immediately. Was he flirting with you through texts? God, Tobias was going to give him a matching wound on the other side.

'Can't help it. Is it a big or small scar? Where is it exactly?'

Were you flirting back? Alden's head was exploding. What kind of woman were you to do something like this? And why couldn't stop himself from answering.

'Want me to show you?'

'Bet.'

It was official, Alden Parker was going to hell. But he was happy cause he knew he would take you with him.

It wasn't a Tobias Fornell free day. He showed up in the afternoon to check on the team and the case. Alden agreed for him to have an update, which you happily gave him. Tim and Nick were out of the office to interrogate your other suspect, and Jess was in the lab, checking things with Kasie. So, Tobias simply grabbed a chair and settled next to you. Alden felt extremely uncomfortable, especially when he noticed how your behavior towards his friend was the same. Like there hasn't been some speakable texts between you two earlier. He felt bad for Tobias. The man has been through so much over the years and now this.

At some point, Alden couldn't take it anymore so he excused himself and walked away. Almost immediately, Tobias kissed your cheek and said he'd be right back. "Fornell, don't do whatever I feel like you're gonna do!" You exclaimed.

"I love you." He mouthed and disappeared at the same corner Alden did. You sighed and your heart started to race.

When Alden saw Tobias coming in the bathroom, he expected to be punch soon enough. Should he prepared himself to duck or should he let Fornell hit him? After all, he did deserve that punch and maybe more. But Tobias was smiling.

"You okay, Fornell?"

"Are you?"

"I-huh? Yeah?"

"How long are you going to beat around the bush, Parker?"

"Um, what? What are you talking about?"

"I know that Gibbs had the rule 12 about dating a coworker. And Y/N learned the job through his rules, but come on. This one has been broken many times, even by Gibbs himself."

"Look Tobias, I'm sorry, okay? I know I shouldn't be interested your girlfriend, and it'll go away. I promise you, nothing--" Alden stopped when he heard a laugh coming from Tobias.

"Wait, you think she's my girl?"

"She's not?" Alden exclaimed, a bit to intensely.

"Okay, let's go get a coffee."

In the breakroom, they sat at a table, cups of coffee in front of them. "I'm gonna be honest, if my life has been different and if I was significantly younger, she would have a ring around her finger and I'd have kicked your ass." Tobias started.

"Fair enough."

"My relationship with her is--special, to say the least. A while ago, she named us 'platonic soulmates' and I guess it fits." Alden nodded. "And if you want to date her, you're gonna have to be okay with that."

"Obviously." Alden chuckled. "Clearly if she had to choose, it'd be you." He took a sip of his coffee. "But even though I'm slightly younger than you, I'm still much older than her."

"And does it seem like something she would mind?" Alden shook his head no after a few seconds. "Look man, you will not be able to help a better partner than her. We're talking about someone who moved in with me after my daughter passed away to support me. She even used her vacation time for that. She handled everything for me, even though she was hurt too cause she knew Emily for almost ten years. I literally had to move her out of my place, and honestly, I only did after she told she had a crush on you."

Alden was extremely moved by what he was hearing. He knew you were someone very special, someone who would give and do everything for the ones she loves, but this was another level. It made him fall for you even more.

"I don't even know what to say." He answered honestly.

"She deserves to be happy and loved. And as much as I love her, it's a different kind of love. Not the kind of love, I know you can give her."

Alden stayed silent. "However, if you just want to hook up cause she's insanely hot, find someone else."

"That's not the kind of man I am."

"I believe you. But never forget that I still have a gun, and you saw me use it a few times."

The case finally came to an end, and you were all very happy and relieved. Alden has been distant from you since his conversation with Tobias and T refused to tell you what they talked about. It was driving you crazy, and even making you feel uncomfortable whenever your team leader was around. What did he know? What did he think?

After coming back from the lab to the bullpen, you were surprised to see everyone was gone except for Alden, who was still typing at his computer. "Where's everyone?" You asked, avoiding looking at him.

"I sent them home."

"Oh, okay."

You started to work on your paperwork again before Alden spoke up again. "You can go too. Tobias is probably waiting for you."

This time, you did look at Alden who was still focus on his screen. "Wait, what do you think my relationship with Toby is exactly?"

Alden finally stopped typing and looked up to you. "What is your relationship with Tobias exactly?" He asked.

You sighed. This was taking you back a few years back when the guy you were dating was getting jealous of Tobias, accusing you of having an affair with him, being in love with him. And you hated that. "Like I said, if you have a problem with--" Alden stood up from his chair and walked over to your desk. He leaned against it, his body fairly close to you.

"I don't have any problem with it. It's obvious that if I want to have you, I need to accept him."

You looked at him, all lost and confused. "Wait--what? What do you--? What?"

Chuckling, Alden crotched down and made you chair spin so you were facing him. "Would you allow me to take you on a date? I've got Tobias's permission." He said with a huge smile.

You stayed silent for a moment, mouth opened. "Are you serious, right now?"

He stood up just enough so that he could grab your chin and gently pressed his lips against the corner of your mouth. You melted under his touch. "Very serious."

"Will you show me your thigh and tell me the story?" You whispered making him laugh.

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt 5 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: what is the appropriate amount of time to forgive your kidnapper?

words: 3.9 k

warning: mob-typical violence. whump. hurt/comfort. allusions to violence. coersion. kidnapping. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. 'only ten one bed oops' trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. nudity. extremely toxic relationships.

a/n - as many of you pointed out in the last chapter, this version of Peter is darker and messier than TASM canon. expect him to make a lot of mistakes before he becomes a changed man. if he changes.

18+. you're responsible for your own content consumption. but that being said, if you don't remember watching an episode of pop up [music] video on a television network, then keep it movin'.

Back to Part 4

Part 5

She awoke to darkness. Her whole body felt sore. Head throbbing from the onslaught of tears. She felt like a ceramic pot that had been roasting in a kiln for hours.

Stirring from her dreamless sleep, she glanced left and right. Her hands were free of the bindings. Brow curled, she looked over at the closed door, pondering if her captor had snuck into the room while she was out.

Honey sat up with a start, blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes. She reached for her wrists, finding nothing but an oily residue left behind. Still puffy from the duct tape rash, her skin was sensitive to her touch, but otherwise unharmed.

She glanced up at the closed door. Her stomach churned. She fought the instinct to curl up and hide beneath the bed. The memory of Peter’s fierce gaze lingered, a raw burn in her mind. 

Despite her logic telling her that she was the victim, she still felt conflicted. 

She had been kidnapped, sure— and she needed to do whatever was necessary to survive. Strangely, she still felt guilty for taking a swing at him like she did. As soon as her fingers touched the rock, she slammed it into the side of his head, without much thought.

“What are you, stupid? It’s a wonder you even make it home alive each night!”

She couldn’t quite name what came over her. She dealt a blow to his temple that could’ve killed him. Surprised that it didn’t. And then what would that be like? Could she really find it in herself to kill another human being? Not to mention, she’d be alone in the woods with a dead body, with no clue where she was. 

The thought made her queasy, twisting her stomach into a pretzel. She could’ve just run away, but when it came time to do so, she froze. Typical.

While she was hiding, she watched and listened quietly to his rampage below. Rage was one thing she expected, but not the misery she witnessed. The look she found in his eyes was something else entirely. Heartbreak and relief, like he would burst into tears at any moment.

It made her heart ache to witness it.

And then she hit him with a rock. Like some kind of cavewoman. 

Brilliant idea, she thought disdainfully.

“You need to slow down!” More bitter thoughts flooded her, this time with the voice of her mother. “Always talking too fast! Always moving too fast! You do without thinking. No wonder you mess everything up.”

Her eyes grew heavy with melancholy and exhaustion. Despite the darkness wrapped around her, she felt like sleep was out of the question.

A strange melody crept up through the closed door to her room. Voices. Percussion. Music. Upbeat and entrancing. 

There wasn’t a clock in her room but she had figured it was the middle of the night. Why would Peter be jamming out in the middle of the night?

Her stomach twisted again. The thought of coming face-to-face with him gave her chills. She rubbed her wrists idly. She could feel bruises there. She was afraid to leave the room. But she was also starving, and lamented not having at least one sandwich before her daring and ill-conceived escape. She was also miserably dehydrated, as every bit of moisture had leaked through her swollen eyelids.

And she had to pee. And that was now all she could think about. Her room thankfully had its own bathroom. Swinging her still-booted feet over the edge of the bed onto the floor, she tiptoed to the bathroom and relieved herself.

She thought she heard singing. Bad, out-of-tune singing. Creeping to the door, she placed her ear against the cool surface, trying to identify thes source. Out of curiosity or courage, she twisted the handle and peeked her head around the frame.

By the time she reached the bottom step of the staircase into the living room, she had a full view of the area and Peter was nowhere in sight. The one person who was in the room (and the source of music) was Miles, as he sat at the kitchen bar and dangled a pizza slice larger than his head above his mouth. 

The music was echoing across the room from a tiny portable speaker on top of the kitchen bar. In his own world, the teenager’s head bobbed as he blew steam from his pizza, then took a giant bite. 

She watched curiously as she approached from behind. The giant decorative clock built into the great room wall confirmed that it was incredibly late. Or early. One wouldn’t know it from Miles’ energy, or the volume of his jam session. She looked left and right, expecting to find more people, but saw no one else.

The flow of the music was broken when she accidentally walked into a low-height side table, her knee knocking to the corner. The lamp on top of the table jolted and Miles spun around in the barstool, letting out a piercing screech that could best be described as falsetto.

Honey responded in kind, letting out a shrieking Ahhhhhh of her own. Miles curled himself up on the stool, pulling his palms and one leg up defensively. “Sorry!” she blurted, as he clutched his own chest. “Sorry! So sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“You scared the crap outta me!” Miles said, his panic ebbing.

“I didn’t mean to—wait, is that how you really scream?”

“What about it?!” Miles exclaimed indignantly. “Not the point! You’re the one who’s creepin’ up on people like we’re in a horror movie... Crazy... La Llorona stuff!” The pitch of his voice normalized as he took a deep breath, frustration subsiding. “I dead-ass almost punched you in the face—I don’t mess around!”  

“Sorry, sorry...” Honey babbled, her face twisted in a grimace. “I, uh, didn’t mean... to, uh... Llorona...”

“It’s fine!” Miles sighed, his heart rate slowing. It didn’t sound fine. “It’s over—maybe let’s just not ever mention this again, okay? To anyone? Especially not to people I know.”

Honey nodded her head in agreement, motioning that her lips were zipped and she was ‘throwing away the key.’ 

A few awkward moments of silence passed between them as he reached over and turned down the music on the speaker. He straightened out his zip-up hoodie uncomfortably. A small smile crept up on her face. She found his reaction endearing, and not at all what she expected from—whatever it was they were involved with.

“Um,” she cleared her throat. “Hi.”

Miles gave her a sheepish look. “Hi.”

There was a mountain of awkwardness between them. She looked around, then pointed at the massive box of pizza. “So... post-midnight snack?”

“Oh,” the teenager responded, looking back at the pizza. “Yeah, that’s right. You’re probably hungry.” He reached for the box, opening the lid. “Here, have some. It’s Lucia’s. There’s plenty.”

“Lucia’s?” she exclaimed, pondering the distance between wherever they were to downtown Flushing. She moved to the box, peering inside. “I like Dani’s.” 

“Well, nobody’s perfect. This pie heats up better,” Miles remarked, taking another bite of his slice. 

“Yeah?” Her eyes slid over to Miles. “How fresh is it?”

“Boss said to bring Lucia’s. So I did.” He shrugged his shoulders idly, placing his attention back on his slice of pizza. She slumped with a huff, having been dismissed.

“Boss,” she repeated, a chill going down her spine. “You mean Ben. Or...Peter, I guess,” She glanced around the mostly empty kitchen and living area, almost as if saying his name would summon him like Bloody Mary. “Is he here?”

Miles smacked his lips, wiping his mouth. “Nope, just me.” 

There was a pleasant calmness in his demeanor. It seemed to her that he was the only normal person that she’d met since being pulled off the train. The only person that treated her like a real person. Not that Peter hadn’t tried to show her kindness... or at least, what his mind perceived as kindness.

She rocked forward on her toes, suddenly interested in the fibers of the cardboard box. “Is he... Is he okay?”

Miles avoided looking at her, and she wondered how much Peter had told him about her escape attempt. She wondered why she felt suddenly embarrassed by her actions. Ashamed even. What did that say about her?

“Didn’t say much,” he replied. “Said he needed to take care of some stuff. Told me to hang out in case you needed anything.” 

Something burned in her chest, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. “That was nice,” she stated in earnest. “I guess.” 

“He’s pretty cool,” Miles nodded, matter-of-factly. “Nice guy.”

She bitterly scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He didn’t respond. He was skilled at avoiding her provocation despite how badly she wanted to start a fight. Passively, he devoured his pizza in record time, then reached over the box to grab a paper plate. It looked sorely out of place compared to the grandeur of the kitchen. 

“Wan’some?” he asked. “I also brought soda and stuff. Boss said no TV, but we can watch a movie on Netflix or something. Or we got a Switch. You ever play Smash Bros?”

It took her a moment for the implications to sink in. “‘No TV?’” she repeated with a growl, letting out a frustrated sigh. “What are we, children?” 

She snatched the paper plate from his hand and reached into the box, grabbing herself a slice of pizza. Without further protest, she bit into the pie, savoring the taste. Lucia’s was superior, she recognized. 

“He said to get you whatever you needed,” he answered, paying her complaints no mind. “The whole house is free range except for the office. But everything else is cool. You can use the gym. There’s a library. The sauna. A pool, if you wanna check that out, too.”

She blinked at him, nearly choking on her pizza. “This place has a pool?” 

“Heated,” he wiggled his eyebrows enticingly. 

She glanced down, conniving. “What about a computer?”

Miles shook his head. “Don’t know about that.”  

“Could I borrow your phone?”

“No can.”

“C’mon,” she pleaded, her voice gentle. “I’m not gonna call the cops. Just wanna check in with my mom.” 

“Can’t bring phones out here,” he shrugged apologetically. “It’s a rule. Phones can be hacked and traced. All you need is a sus text like ‘Hey, I’m here,’ or ‘We issued you a refund for $600,’ and you click on the link and boom. They got you.”

Honey peered at him suspiciously, “Who’s they?”

“No clue.”

She rolled her eyes. “Your ‘boss’ sounds pretty paranoid if you ask me.”

“That actually wasn’t his rule,” Miles explained conversationally. He leaned back in the barstool in a way that made her anxious. “That was Peni. She’s our tech nerd.”

“Peni?” she repeated.

“Yeah, she’s like—a genius.”

Her pizza suddenly became too chewy. “So I’m just a prisoner?” she huffed.

Miles looked over at her for a few moments, considering her. He let out a quiet sigh. “I know it’s a lot,” he said kindly, then added with consolation. “Pete’s a lot. Sometimes.”  Stone-faced, she stared back skeptically. “But he’s a really good dude. Just... he worries. He wouldn’t do all this if he didn’t care.”

She glared at him through lidded eyes. “Do you hear yourself right now?” she spat. “You sound like a Lifetime movie. Do I need to call Child Protective Services?”

“Hey, not cool. M’not a child,” he bristled, offended. “I’m sixteen.” She stared at him with a raised brow, watching as he stuffed another slice of pie into his mouth. “Wan’some Mountain Dew?”

She blinked. Several times. Then resigned herself. “Sure.”

The eerie indigo and orange glow of civil dawn peeked through the bay windows of the great room. It was silent except for soft snores. With weary eyes and a suit jacket which had been wrinkled by physical exertion, Peter wandered into his house even more of an alien than when he’d left it. 

The sort of activities in which he’d participated in earlier that night did that to him. It made him a stranger in his own home. Even more in his own skin.

He paused briefly and took a moment to gaze upon the lanky teenager sprawled out on one of the leather couches. Jordans crossed. sticking up over the sofa arm. A Nintendo controller rested on his chest as he dozed deeply, film forming in the corner of his open mouth. The sight made Peter crack a bittersweet smile. Nostalgia accompanied by an ache of longing. Somewhere beneath Miles’ oversized clothes, there was a good kid who wasn’t all that different from Peter.

Who he used to be. 

His eyes roved across the room to the opposite sofa. Honey was curled up like a cat, still in the blouse and jeans that she arrived in. Her hiking boots were placed neatly next to the couch. The snuggly sight of her made his heart leap into his throat. Her upper body expanded and deflated in a steady rhythm like ocean waves, and the action both entranced and haunted him. The bittersweet feeling in his chest soured and blackened, until it became a guilt-ridden tumor wrapping tendrils around his heart.

He had been so cruel earlier. He erupted into a fit of blind rage. A brute. The kind of anger that made people want to turn their heads. Anger that if Gwen were still alive, she wouldn’t be able to look at without being sickened. He was the sort of person that Aunt May and Uncle Ben would cross the street to avoid.

He thought he’d lost her too. And he was terrified.

No wonder she was scared. It was his fault, to think that she could somehow see him as something other than a monster. Now, there wasn’t much hope in changing her mind.

Peter felt his eyes burn as he peeled them from her lithe form. He glanced down at his hands, observing the deep crimson stains in his skin. Rusty-brown spots soiled the wrinkled cuffs of his dress shirt. 

He’d have to throw it out, he mused. There’d be no getting those stains out. No matter how much time he put into scrubbing. No matter if he flayed his own skin off his bones, the blood would always be there.

His heart rate quickened. He felt bile rising in his throat. With alarm, he disappeared down a hallway, tucking himself swiftly in a washroom. 

When he returned, he was shirtless. His forearms were bright red, stinging with how hard he’d scrubbed. Head down, he crept quietly towards the staircase leading up to the bedrooms on the upper level. 

He paused at the sofa, glancing down longingly at the woman he would never deserve. 

The woman that would never forgive him for how he acted. 

Never forgive him for what he was. The thought made his lower lip tremble.

He didn’t deserve her. This was an undeniable fact. 

But regardless, she was still his responsibility. His to protect. His to keep safe. 

His to keep.

His shadow fell over her as he reached down and gently lifted her from the sofa. Effortlessly, he carried her weight like a towel over his arm, or a down-pillow in his hands. Ascending the staircase with her tucked against his chest, he didn’t miss the way she huddled closer to his warmth. She sighed against the skin over his heart in a way that made gooseflesh rise. 

Gently, he ferried her, like a small boat on a glass lake. He strode past the door to the room that she had occupied and continued down the hallway, headed to the southern-facing end of the house. He approached the heavy oak door to his bedroom and used his toe to push it open. The action barely disturbed her at all. Like floating on a cloud.

Moving through the bedroom darkened by blackout curtains, he drifted across his room and rested her body on the silk surface of the California-king bedspread. Delicately, he placed her head on a 1000-thread count pillow void of any scents other than his own. He hoped that it would smell like her shampoo by the time she woke up. 

He stepped back from the bed, listening the pulsation of her heart. Studied the pace of her breathing. Fixated on her soft features as she floated in her slumber. A familiar pang reached his chest as he watched her, hesitating for only a moment more before he padded to the other side of the bed. 

She sighed in her sleep, nuzzling the softest pillow she’d ever laid on, and shuddered comfortably as two arms wrapped around her waist. She felt herself pulled back and was cradled by a firm form shaping her own. It was warm. She was warm. The breath on the back of her neck was warm.

Her eyes shot open, a small gasp catching in her throat. Rapidly, she blinked through the murky twilight of the foreign bedroom, her heart spiking. 

“Don’t,” she heard a deep, raspy voice whisper in her ear. She went rigid, recognizing the owner of the voice and the body pressed up against hers. Alarm flooded her.

“Please don’t,” he said softly, with a tone that sounded shockingly broken. She was frozen. Stunned. By fear or surprise, or both. 

Another murmur, “Stay with me.”

It was a whimper shaped like a demand. With it, she swore she could feel a tremble in his grip. He buried his face in her hair, his bearded chin tucking into her shoulder. His arms locked her into an impenetrable grip. 

Instinct was screaming at her to break the hold. Told her she needed to fight. Or run, as far and fast as she could manage. 

It wouldn’t be very far. The previous afternoon he proved that he was more than capable of bringing her back. 

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The way the air from his lungs ghosted over her nape made her eyes flutter shut. 

His arms were heavy. Firm, but not painful. Solid, not tight. She imagined the hearty limbs of the oak in the backyard of her childhood home. Three seasons out of the year, she’d scale into its arbor, hiding from her troubles. She once wanted to build a home there.

She should fight. She should run.

There was a monster in her bed. She was in a monster’s bed. 

And yet, sleep took her soon after. The most peaceful rest she’d had in ages.

When she emerged from her rest, she was alone again. Harsh daylight flooded into the bedroom she hadn’t had the chance to see. After a moment of confusion, she turned around to see the other side of the bed unoccupied. The blankets undisturbed. She glanced down at her own clothes. Though wrinkled and dirtied from her tree climbing adventure and attempted escape, they were intact. 

She was surprised, but even more surprised at the strange mix of... anxiety? 

When is the appropriate amount of time when you’re forced into your kidnapper’s bed for him to... you know... make a move? Was it her? Was she awful, or even worse—did she smell bad? 

The line of self-conscious questioning and odd disappointment frustrated her further. She sighed, silenting cursing her own stupidity, shaking the thought from her mind. 

Someone once told her that if life was a horror film, she’d be the first to die. It would’ve offended her more if she wasn’t wrapped up in the notion that if life could be a horror film, how would any of us know we were in one?

Her mother answered— ”Stupid, stupid girl.”

Attention now turned to the surroundings, she came face-to-face with another real-life magazine spread. A dream bedroom. The coziest jewel of this particular dream home. 

Although it was a modest size, it didn’t feel that way. The primary bedroom was decorated with a soothing blend of alabaster stone, exposed beams of reclaimed wood, and snuggly linen tones. Vaulted ceilings lined with ash. A winding, black iron chandelier dangled over the four-post bed she laid in. A stone fireplace stood opposite from the bed, accompanied by an overstuffed linen chair. Just as in the other rooms, a double-height window accented with floor-to-ceiling drapes towered over the room and revealed the breathtaking mountain landscape.

She sat up and gathered her jaw up off of the bedspread. Wiped drool from her lip. The room was charming and warm, like fuzzy socks and sherpa blankets. Marshmallows melting on hot cocoa. It wrapped around her, like a hug.

Like her visitor last night.

She yanked her eyes off of the rustic-contemporary decor, searching for Peter, as if he would’ve somehow camouflaged himself into the space. Placing her socked feet down on the blessedly toasty hardwood, she peered around curiously. The gentle roar of water running caught her attention as she wandered to the other side of ithe room. An open doorway led into another massive space, one side lined with wardrobe cabinetry and the other half of the room obscured by a wall. 

Idly, she followed the path through what she recognized as a closet larger than her apartment, rounding the corner of the freestanding wall. Clouds billowed around her, as she gazed open-mouthed at the primary bathroom. Sunlight poured in, lighting up the space, bouncing off of white marble and black obsidian glass tile—

And Peter Parker. 

Steam wafting off of his nude form, hot water pouring down his backside. She paused midstep, eyes like saucers. Felt the blood rush to her face. Panic swallowed her. She imagined this is exactly what deers must feel right before getting plowed by an F-150, blinded by headlights. 

Except that she was blinded by his wet pale skin, the way the steam rose from it, like he was the source of heat. The smattering of freckles spread faintly across his shoulders. His palms were flat against the backsplash as he bowed his head into the stream of water. His dark locks slicked back by a cleansing cascade. 

She followed the current down the curve of his shoulders and the peaks of his spine, down to the dimpled valleys of his lower back, and that breathtaking canyon ridge that dips down in a V at his hips— whatever that’s called— and never in her life would she see herself as an ‘ass enthusiast,’ but her mouth was watering now, maybe from the lack of hair on his body (his skin was so buttery smooth, what was his skincare secret?) or the subtle curvature of his shapely cheeks— 

Aimlessly, she collided with a freestanding towel drying rack, sending it clamoring to the tile floor. To her ears it sounded like the whole Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade falling down a staircase into a pile of cookware. She didn’t bother to see if Peter could hear the racket.

Like Icarus into the Sun, she hurled her own body back into the closet before she could be seen. Landed hard on the carpeted floor with a thud. She scattered, scrambling like a crab, on her hands and knees until she could get to her feet and bolt from the room.

In a frenzy, she rushed to ‘her’ bedroom, the one nearest to the stairs. She didn’t breathe again until the door was slammed shut and she rested her weight against it. A fire raged beneath her skin, her face aflame with embarrassment. She dragged her palms down her cheeks, groaning with mortification, sinking to the floor.

At what point is it acceptable to creep on your kidnapper in the shower?

Continue to Part 6

a/n - I've gotten such overwhelmingly amazing feedback on this. thank you so much to each of you that commented, sent me an ask, and big thank you to those of you that reblogged!

don't forget, to be tagged you must reblog so I can keep track of you!

thank you so much, angels!

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

Sam Messed Up + Tria Prima Ramblings

There are a few solid CAT# but one I really like is that it's based on if an incident affects the body, mind, or soul of the victim. This started off as an offhand example I used to explain how they could work, but there are a lot of fun links to it and will now make a semi-baseless accusation to continue to support it

Sam can't file documents correctly even when being told explicitly what to do.

Anyway, CAT#'s have been shown to have the following values, either in the show or on the Klaus doc: 1/2/3/12/13.

It stands to reason that if 13 can exist these are non-mutually exclusive categories and so 23 and 123 can also exist. And if an incident can be both 1 and 3 it would appear that these represent discrete facets of an incident's manifestation.

Given the show's obvious alchemic motifs it's not a huge leap to link that to the tria prima, alchemy's three primes; soul, spirit (mind), and body. These are represented by sulfur (🜍), mercury (☿), and salt (🜔) respectively. Each of which can be found on the OIAR's logo.

The strongest link here is that 3 is Body/Salt/🜔. Daria's transformation (full) was CAT3, ink5oul has 🜔 on their insta bio, and body is even the third thing in the list. Which is a great start.

We've also got transformation (eyes) at CAT23 which also helps back that up. There was an elemental of paranoia and mental manipulation to it as well as the transformation itself. That tracks really well for Spirit/Mercury/☿, which in alchemical terms is mind as most people would think of. CAT2 was also the watching doll which does also track.

The problem for me is with the last of our categories. CAT1 in the show has only been seen for reanimation (partial), combined with the extra context that said reanimation was "amalgamative", and I don't think that lines up well with a basic idea of Soul/Sulfur/🜍. If this was CAT13 I'd be all over this but I think given there is a strong emphasis of the physical body being an important detail here then it's not entirely convincing. Greater context could make it a stronger case though, if lots of undead ends up in CAT1 then it'd probably a sure thing.

The real problem with this idea is that Dr. Webber's incident seems to almost entirely disprove it. It was CAT2 and while it obviously had a strong mental component it's undeniably a huge physical transformation so it'd have to be CAT23 to really make this all make sense.

Which brings us to Sam. Sam definitely made one obvious mistake with the case number of Ep 3's incident. I think he also made a major mistake in its header. Both of which have solid foundations in the show's text. But I also think, somewhat seriously, that a third mistake has been made with the metatextual reason of obfuscating the meaning of this system.

So, after the incident plays and Sam talks to Alice about it she pretty explicitly tells him what it should be filed as. She says "“Infection” comma “arboreal”. Cross link it with “guilt” if you’re feeling fancy.", but this is what we get instead:

CAT2C8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (full body) -/- arboreal

Ignoring the header for the time being there firstly a very obvious and inarguable mistake. He missed out the R, and they all get the R because it's just a label. The header is also close to being different than what Alice mentions and arboreal as a crosslink specifically doesn't seem to fit in with the more emotional or mental elements crosslinks have had to that point. Arboreal doesn't fit in with regret, trespass, or dysmorphic, but guilt does. Which would make this the seemingly more correct case number and header:

CAT2RC8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (arboreal) -/- guilt

But based on the tria prima theory I'm now wondering if it's not meant to actually be this:

CAT23RC8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (arboreal) -/- guilt

And the 3 was removed to obfuscate the case numbering format. Because the stuff that was "wrong" is fairly obvious to find if that's all that was wrong with it but removing a digit from the CAT# is basically impossible to show unless you know for sure what's meant to be there. It's the sort of mistake that hides really well in ignorance, which makes it a great data point to screw with because of how it breaks ideas.

[theveryconfusedartistsart-blog]

So, I have some important Flowey thoughts that I want to share. 🌻

Flowey never intended for any deaths he caused to be permanent.

As soon as he started believing that he was living in a game and could just Reset if he made a mistake or didn't like something, he started to play with people's lives because nothing mattered to him anymore and he, I quote, "was bored".

I'm not excusing his murderous and soulless behavior, I'm fully aware that he's completely messed up in the head and needs intense therapy.

Also, I have a theory that he kills only to go back and Reset and bring his victims back to life is probably some how therapeutic for him because he has the power to return life.

...Something that he was never able to do for Chara, I'm certain that he may even tried to somehow hack his power to try to bring Chara back to life.

Again, I'm not excusing his behavior, but if you had been traumatized as child and then thrust into a strange body and no longer felt anymore compassion and had the power to control time...

Wouldn't you eventually do some screwed up shit too if you knew you that it wouldn't make you feel guilty and make everyone forget your crime by rewinding time?

Now lets talk about the monsters who do not have Flowey's power.

Specifically the one's who are trying to actively trying to permanently kill Frisk for their soul.

They are desperate to break the barrier to be free, so much so that they are willing to kill a child for it to help their beloved King.

It's no wonder why Flowey believes 'It's kill or be killed' at the beginning of the game, he was a child when humans attacked and fatally killed him, and then the next thing he knows, his kind peaceful father has now called on all the other monsters in the Underground to attack and kill humans to take their souls just so he would have the ability to take revenge.

Asriel/Flowey believes that everyone has an evil side and killing is the answer because that was what he was traumatized into believing.

He also believes that killing and being evil will protect him from being harmed like he was when he was kind and gentle.

He genuinely believes that kindness is weakness because that's what got him killed in the first place.

And in the Pacifist route, thanks to Frisk (and Chara) he unlearns so many terrible beliefs and realizes that literally not everyone is as horrible as he thought.

He then dawns a new way of living (my favorite quote from the game) Don't Kill and Don't Be Killed.

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 18

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 16 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

While she was rinsing her hair, Y/n could only hope that canary yellow was gone from her hair. It took her a lot of showering, spending a lot of money on hair dyes, and a big big self love not to let the murmuring and giggles get to her when she was forced to go to work looking like that.

It didn't matter how much she tried to hide that ugly hair color under a beanie, it came out somehow. All the time.

As she left the towel on the toilet, she wondered out loud how that tint got to her shampoo. And why did it have Jungkook's name written all over it. Confronting him about it was useless, he'd deny it. But at the same time he made sure she knew it was him with his awful jokes and that dumb smirk she'd love to erase.

He crossed a line that day.

She was surprised when she found him at her door, with one hand placed on the right side of her door frame while he waited for her to show up in front of him. Her eyes rolled just imagining what he could be there for, making her sigh so loud that he was able to hear it from the other side.

And that sound, for some reason, created some type of satisfaction in his system, getting exactly what he expected from her.

—What do you want? —she placed her head against her door.

—I need to speak to you, face to face —his tone sounded serious, as he tried to keep his face away from the peephole.

—If you're looking for a victim for your failed dream to become a hairstylist, I'm not home today.

—But I'm speaking to you.

—You're speaking to my answerphone, not me.

—Whatever —he threw his head back, allowing her to see his exposed neck—. I think we should be mature enough, and talk about this topic while looking at each other. There's something I really need to tell you, and I can only do it if you open the door for me.

While she wanted to ignore what he was saying, it made her curious to know what was that serious issue they needed to discuss, and that clearly had nothing to do with the new hair that only lasted a few days. As she looked back through the peephole, she could see his eye becoming bigger than the rest of his head as he approached it, attempting to look through it as well with no luck.

She had nothing to lose. Maybe he was there to apologize for what he did, maybe that was the last attempt to become a functional adult, who's able to see past his mistakes and take accountability for the things he had done wrong.

Y/n completely ignored his victorious smirk when she first opened her door, confronting him for the first time that morning after she managed to get back to her cold hair color that she never wanted to change.

—Oh —he pointed up at her hair—, I'll miss the yellow.

—Sure you will —those words went through her teeth like daggers—. What did you want? I'm busy.

—It's Saturday.

—So? I'm busy.

Actually, she wasn't. The most difficult thing was dealing with her hair, and she already got it done.

But Jungkook didn't need to know that.

—Busy with sitting around at home doing nothing?

—Exactly.

—Okay then... I'll be quick —he shrugged—. I know we've had a lot of ups and downs, I know I'vee made it difficult for you to live here for the past month and a half. But I think we should try to grow closer as neighbors, we should actually stick together. We see each other more than we see our families, right? —instead of receiving the response he expected, Y/n simply rolled her eyes— We shouldn't be fighting all the time. We actually should do something to improve our relationship. And what's better than trusting each other?

It did look like an apology. Or at least an attempt of truce.

—Yeah, I agree —she nodded.

—Fine —he took her wrist, moving her hand to him—. Somebody will come to repair the air conditioner, but I need to go to work. And since you're here doing nothing, you could open the door for them. Thanks —he quickly informed, leaving his keys in her hand.

Y/n had no time to oppose that responsibility, which she clearly didn't want to have, because Jungkook sprinted towards the stairs before she could even realize what he had said. The keys were still lying in her palm, while she looked at the curve Jungkook disappeared in the fastest she had ever seen him.

At first she was confused, annoyed even. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Jungkook had the audacity to ask her for a favor after he sneaked in her house, acting like her boyfriend -which also led to her mother still being hung up on it, despite of how many times she tried to deny it-, and tinted her hair in the most awful hair color to exist. She wasn't able to see quite the good part of that until the technician spilled a comment that had her brain thinking.

—He's lucky to have a neighbor he can trust. I know the most innocent thing mine would do is steal the microwave.

She had spent those days trying to think of a way to get back at Jungkook, her mind wasn't as evil to think of something straight away, but being inside his house gave her a whole new perspective.

Cutting the optical fiber so he couldn't watch his football matches that had her rolling her eyes? Tinting his laundry in an ugly color to throw to waste all of his clothes? If he had a contact book, she could even call one of his hook ups so he'd find her there when he came back.

There were so many choices that would work so perfectly...

Two knocks on the door interrupted her evil plan making, having her turning on her tracks towards the door to find a woman that had some features that resembled Jungkook's. She couldn't put it past him that he was so self-centered that he was turned on by hooking up with someone that looked like the female version of himself.

—Oh, I might've got it wrong.

—Depends on who you're looking for —Y/n interrupted her.

—Jungkook lives here?

—Yeah, but he isn't home —she tried to explain—. He's off for work —and considering it was afternoon already, he probably would take three more hours to come back—, but he won't take too long. Can I ask who's looking for him? Are you another...?

—I'm his mother.

Whatever attempt to make him look like a serial cheater got stuck in her throat with that answer, suddenly feeling bad at putting that poor woman through something as uncomfortable as that.

It was a logical answer, but with Jungkook it was better not to expect the expected.

They looked so alike in some ways, but they looked so different in others. That lady looked elegant, Y/n could even bet her bag cost one month of rent; while Jungkook was... Jungkook.

—You must be his girlfriend?

—Yeah, yeah —she nodded—. That's why I'm here, because we're living together.

Even if the idea of seeing Jungkook settling with someone was too far-fetched.

—You look so sweet —she genuinely mentioned—. Could you tell him I came?

—He doesn't know you are going to be here? —Y/n frowned, confused.

—Difficult if he doesn't pick up my calls —her laugh was nervous, grimacing at the end—. I'll come back another day.

So he was the type to completely ignore his parents...

And that gave her the brightest idea she had in the last few days.

—Why don't you wait for him here? —Y/n suggested.

—I don't think it'll be a good idea.

—Don't be stupid. I mean... —she giggled, insisting on having her step inside his house— You already came all the way here, you can't leave where you came from. Come in, please.

As she closed the door behind her, she couldn't stop imagining Jungkook's face when he saw his mother there.

—Do you want to go for a beer today? —Jimin suggested, palming his shoulder from behind.

Jungkook didn't bother looking up, he knew exactly what facial expression his friend had on his face to try to convince him.

—I pass —he shook his head—. Y/n had the key to my apartment, and I think it'll be testing fate too much.

—Who in their sane mind would give his keys to the person who wants revenge on them?

—Why did you sound like a narrator of one of those lame rom-coms trailers?

—Say whatever you want, but I'm not the one going back to a house on fire —Jimin walked back.

—She wouldn't set it on fire —he denied, chuckling with it—. She'd burn her house as well if she did it. Also that's too brutal to be Y/n's idea. Good thing is I don't have anything at home that could hurt me to see it destroyed.

—Only for saying that, I hope she had broken everything at her reach.

—One thing about my neighbor: she isn't made for being vile and sneaky —Jungkook assured his friend—. That's why it's so fun to mess with her: I get entertainment, knowing it won't hurt too bad.

—Karma will bite your ass —Jimins squinted his eyes—. And I'm not hoping for it, I'm telling you it will.

—If karma is the artistic name of a new Victoria Secret's model, she can bite wherever she wants.

—You're disgusting —Jimin commented, shortly before stepping outside the office.

Every day in the gym was the same for him: he arrived early in the morning, hid inside the office until it was time for the few training sessions he had scheduled, he trained himself for a bit, and hid back inside in the office until it was the time to close the establishment.

That was his life.

Right when he was picking up the few things some of the people that went there left, like empty water bottles or those boxing bandages, he heard the door opening again.

—We're closed —he sighed, not turning to the person who had just stepped inside the dark place—. Come back tomorrow.

—Are you Jeon Jungkook?

He smirked at the mention of his name by a deep male voice, thinking he'd be the one in the winning end if he just pumped his chest a bit and showed that confident persona he loved showing off to intimidate others.

—Depends on who's asking —he sighed, finally getting up from the floor.

—Alessandro Rossi.

When he turned around, he saw a tall bald man, that was twice his size, looking at him attentively, while the youngest man behind him -and that was staring at everything going on from afar- just was a witness of the conversation.

Jungkook's blood went cold at the mention of that name, knowing that it'd bring no good.

—Wow, is he finally honoring me by acknowledging my gym? Look, I am a bit disappointed it took him so long after all these years, but you can tell him I forgive him. I can...

He wasn't able to say anything else, before his words were cut by a sudden punch to his jaw that made him instantly dizzy. Shaking his head to get some control of his body back, he saw the bald man rolling up the sleeves of his black sweater, stepping closer to him.

—Oh, he does know you.

Jungkook blocked his right hook, attempting to punch back. And he probably would've succeeded if that bully hadn't come with his little friend, who stopped him before he was able to defend himself, finding his arm under his grip, so the other could be able to beat him up as he pleased.

He lost count of all the hits he received, every punch hurt less with his body going numb slowly, only able to keep standing by the way the younger man was holding him from behind.

Jungkook was used to the pain of the punches after so many fights, but it was so different after not being able to fight back, losing all control of his body when they both just stopped messing with his body as they let him fall to the ground heavily. His sight was blurry, only able to distinguish some silhouettes, as he felt the blood dripping from his face.

—Next time you try to get on mister Rossi's business, or pretend to stop a fight, we'll burn this mousetrap with you inside.

He wasn't able to do two plus two right away, before his brain had to process the kick straight at his mouth and that made his body fall flat back on the floor. Their steps sounded heavy, echoed in his head as he tried to stare at the ceiling among the darkness while recovering his breath.

He lost count of how much time he spent in that same position. Actually, he didn't even know how he managed to close the gym and walk to his motorbike, losing every attempt of putting the helmet on, before he started the engine and drove to his place.

The crashing sound of his motorbike against the pavement as he tried to park it next to the entrance to his building would've hurted him any other day, but that day he was too focused on standing on his feet without losing his balance.

It had been a long while since he saw himself like that. Jungkook hadn't been in such a low state since he started gaining experience in those boxing parties, and even then his body was aching to the point that he felt pain at the mere move of his leg to take one step.

His body wobbled, forcing him to reach his hand to the wide door frame so he wouldn't fall. And he didn't try to start walking again until he breathed deeply, considering whether to take the step not to annoy Y/n, or take the lift to give his body a rest.

—She'll come at me for any other reason, anyway —he thought, dragging his body to the big metallic box.

The lift slightly trembled as Jungkook rested his body against one of the walls, quietly moaning to press the button that'd take to his floor.

Hearing her voice inside his apartment was reassuring somehow, making him feel like at least he'd be back to someone it didn't bother him to see. At least he'd be able to tease her a bit, and feel entertained before he cried himself to sleep.

But her voice was suddenly followed by a different one. And he couldn't recognize it. It sounded muffled due to the walls, but it sounded familiar.

He swore he'd kill Y/n if she had allowed in one of his hook ups after she came looking for him, which was something that had never happened before.

As he opened the door, and stepped inside his house to a clearer voice, he tried to gain some stability back to confront the woman Y/n was hanging out with. He completely omitted the panic in her face, or how quickly she asked what happened. His rage was only centered at one person that had no business to do there.

Seeing Y/n in that state, barely able to hold on and open his eyes to look at them, with his face and clothes covered with blood, instantly made her expect the worst, sprinting towards him to help him out however she was able to.

—What are you doing here? —he grunted with a raspy voice.

At first, she thought he was talking to her, forcing her to look up at his face as she tried to hook his arm around her shoulder. Although it wasn't her. He was furious, dedicating that woman a look that she had never seen before. It was like he was ready to bark everything that was going through his head.

—Let's talk about it later —his mother tried to get him to calm down—. Let me h...

As soon as she tried to land a hand on his other arm to help Y/n, Jungkook moved it away abruptly, also making Y/n move her hands away and almost causing her to lose her balance.

—I want nothing from you. Wasn't it clear all the times I've told you the same? —he hoarsed— I don't want you here, and I don't care why you came looking for me. Did you run out of money now? That's what you want? Huh? Because I have nothing for you. Nothing. And I don't want to see you again, I don't want to get anything from you.

—Jungkook... —Y/n tried to stop him.

—I told you already: you're dead to me. So do exactly the same thing you've been doing all this time, and disappear.

Y/n gulped thick as she saw the tension between them, seeing the guilt and pain in his mother's face, and the rage and annoyance on his. She couldn't understand what the older woman mumbled as she walked past them with a sad expression. Her apology probed on her lips, but never coming with a sound.

—I don't want you here either —Jungkook turned to Y/n.

—I don't want to be here either —she answered back, turning completely to him—. But I'm not going to leave you like this.

—What are you going to do? Piss me off until my face doesn't look like this? You've done enough already.

—Well, I don't care —she shrugged.

When his mother commented how she had a small fall out with her son, Y/n thought it was a small fight that was meaningless, she couldn't imagine Jungkook reacting that way.

—You make me pay attention to your place, because you think I'm your personal portress, and now you want me to leave? —Y/n loudly scoffed— Sit on that damned couch, unless you want me to shower you up with antiseptic.

He could've insisted, Jungkook knew that if only he had told her again, she probably would've given in. But instead, he followed her guidance, huffing while he walked to his couch, knowing that the worst part was yet to come.

And he was right.

His body squirmed every time she moved the gauze over one of the wounds on his face, clenching his teeth together to keep the moans he was dying to let out to himself.

—You won't ask how this happened?

Knowing Y/n, it was strange she didn't even attempt to ask. She was surprised by how he looked, but not about why it happened.

—Knowing your history, it was a matter of time until this happened —her comment almost made him laugh.

If he wasn't wrong, it was likely that those bullies came to him because of how he got in between Y/n's fight a few weeks back. It was better not to let her know.

—...sorry —she muttered.

—What was that? —Jungkook opened his eyes to look at her.

—Nothing.

—You said something.

—I just said —she mentioned, almost overlapping with his words— that I'm sorry. I didn't know you had such a bad relationship with your mother.

She thought it was nothing bigger than a dumb fight, she couldn't imagine it was as big as serious as Jungkook showed.

He didn't answer back, he didn't think it was needed. But seeing her so serious, and disappointed, pushed a button that got him to speak. He didn't have to explain himself, or the situation, but he felt it was right to do so.

—She cheated on my father —he mentioned—. It was years ago, but I just can't forgive her —as he spoke, her hands moved away from his face and dropped to her lap—. She left, and she didn't care about what she left behind. My dad went through hell, he almost lost his house after he got fired from his workplace, because the quality in his job also got affected because of the situation. I got my ass beaten up countless times just to earn some extra money to pay the bills, because my job wasn't enough to pay half of the things. Not once she cared about all that, and now she wants to act like nothing happened...

Y/n didn't know what to do, or say. She just looked at him attentively, surprised by that new side of him. She was so used to bickering with him, or seeing him being a pay in the ass, that that new side of him felt like a completely different person.

—I know how you feel.

Before she was able to elaborate on her words, Jungkook's scoff interrupted her.

—And you remind me a lot of my brother —she nervously smiled.

—He also thought you were annoying?

—He also did illegal fights to earn money when there was no other choice —she quickly shut down his attempt to joke around.

His smirk dropped with her answer, finally finding some sense into what her mother asked her when she met him.

—My dad also left, without saying a thing —she started—. He left a lot of unpaid bills and debts, my mother suffered depression and wasn't able to work. Me and my brother tried to work, but our salaries just covered a few things. That's how he started, until he died in one of those fights.

—That's why you're so stubborn about the article?

—If the only thing I got from it was recognition, I would've published it already —she commented—. I want to see all of those people exposed, and I want to find the person that put my brother into that fight —she threw the gauze on the table.

—Why didn't you tell me?

—Did I have to? —she lifted her eyebrow— You didn't need to know more than the fact that it was going to be written.

—Well, it'd have changed a lot of things.

—You'd have helped me? Like you're thinking of now? —she cut him off— Forget it. I don't want your help anymore.

—Y/n, I only said it because it's dangerous.

—And I know —she nodded.

She started picking up her things, getting up from the couch before she started heading towards the door.

—Put a lot of ice everywhere. Or not. I don't care.

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense for Jungkook. She was so used to healing that type of wounds, she was so familiar with that dark environment, that he should have known it went further than just being a good professional passionate about her work.

She lived all of that up close. She knew all the consequences and still went for it. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett