#look at him in the photo. he will murder your family if you say anything bad about his art

[veveisveryuncool]

Has dark meta knight ever drawn pictures of the Kirby cast before.

I love how he canonically draws really horribly as stated from the star sillies picture.

yeah um. he's touchy about that

soryg😭 this was kinda rushed

[seungfl0wer]

Changbin As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains smut 🩷

Posting this on Changbins birthday🩷 so happy birthday so the very man who got me into stray kids. The loml, the man of everyone’s dreams.

-🩵

•Man is all about you.

•He really just thinks about you a lot.

•The members joke that you’re one of the only people he’ll text back right away.

•Likes to send you gym pictures.

•A lot of gym pictures.

•Just so you’ll compliment him.

•And please do that.

•Do it a lot, because this man just gushes at your praise and kind words.

•The way he just giggles and blushes when you say anything remotely like it.

•Even when you’re together for years he’s still a blushing mess.

•Wants to constantly cuddle.

•You wrapped in his strong arms.

•His favorite thing to do while you’re cuddling is nuzzle his face into your neck.

•Softly leaving kisses as he repeats “Mine, All mine”

•Brings you his clothes to wear constantly because it just melts him.

•He’ll make the comment about “Wow whoever hoodie that is they got taste”

•Loves bringing you to his home with him to hang out with his mom.

•Changbin is so family oriented and to see you and his family together just-

•It makes him wanna cry.

•And the first time you meet his family seeing them love you.

•He’s crying, and he’s crying hard. Holding onto you with a big smile plastered on him.

•Asks you a lot to go to the gym.

•Even if you don’t wanna work out he just likes having your company there.

•Has the Worst photo of you as his Home Screen.

•He finds it so cute and funny.

•He’ll whine when you say you think it’s ugly.

•Because how dare you say that about his partner.

•You guys have such deep conversations.

•He really loves these.

•Just sitting there talking about your future, your dreams, the meaning of life, and how he could make dwaekki could be an actual animal.

•Always texting to make sure you ate.

•He’s always worried you’re not taking care of yourself.

•Has a whole snack box stocked of your faves at all times.

•Also if you ever say anything about something hurting and or feeling sick.

•Mans there so fast to take care of you.

•He’ll be worried until you feel better.

•And if you’re someone who gets periods?

•He’s making sure you have everything.

•Plus make sure to have time to come cuddle you if you need while you’re suffering.

•Has so many files of songs for you too.

•Mans really whipped for you and he wouldn’t have it any other way honestly.

•You both are just each other’s support system. Solving any problems with communication.

•You’re constantly there for each other, in anyway the other needs.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•Body worshiping at its finest.

•Kissing every inch of your body, Telling you how stunning you are.

•Lots of praise, So much praise From the both of you.

•”Y/n do you know how good looking you are?” Followed by even more kissing.

•”Binnie my handsome man, aah your lips are so soft”

•His favorite position is definitely one where he’s holding you up.

•Loves showing off his strength of course.

•Plus he loves how you grip on to his arms.

•He has your body memorized, all your sweet spots everything.

•He loves the way you sound- oh god does he ever.

•The way you sound when you are just coming undone around him.

•He wants to save those sounds forever.

•Definitely has a thing for you sucking his fingers.

•Has his hand cupped under your chin, thumb to your lips as you suck on it.

•You ask for anything during he’s giving it you right away.

•”Please Bin- Faster” “Deeper, aah right there”

•He’s giving you anything you want.

•You could ask him to murder someone and he’d probably say yes.

•100% probably records your noises.

•Yeah y’all have phone sex while he’s away

•But nothing compares to the sound of him fucking you into another dimension.

•Although he is very soft for you.

•He fucks you so good, so rough but full of so much love.

•Makes you cum multiple times before he’s cuming.

•God the cuddles after sex though?

•You’re actually just glued together at this point.

•He’s not letting you go for at least 10 minutes.

•And when you finally get up to pee he’s whining.

•Making small grabby hands for you to come back.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[rafeandonlyrafe]

never truly gone

words: 2k

alternative universe where rafe was the one to fake his death instead of ward

warnings: funeral, discussions of death and grief, established relationship, murder confession (canon murder), implications of smut (no actual sex)

you are barely tuned in to the words being spoken at the funeral, lost in the haze of grief. dressed in the same outfit you wore for your one year anniversary with rafe. it was his favorite. was. the word hits you like a ton of bricks.

it didn't feel real for the longest time, part of it still doesn't, the feeling in your gut that your boyfriend isn't truly gone, but as you pick your head up and look around, you realize you have to get over the stage of denial.

“are you okay?” your mom whispers, reaching over to squeeze your hand. you rip it immediately out of her grip. of course you're not okay. who could be after their first love, their high school sweetheart, blew up?

“now is the time that we invite anyone who would like to say a few words up to the mic.” the pastor says, looking out into the crowd, members of rafes family having already spoken.

ward turns around to look at you. he invited you to sit in the front row when you first arrived, but you didn't want that kind of attention, your every reaction being scrutinized, if you’re crying too much, or not reacting enough.

“would you like to speak y/n?” 

you look at the crumpled, tear stained piece of paper with some words scribbled on it.

“i-i don't know if i can.” you admit. ward seemed so strong when he spoke, the same pillar of community he seems to be when speaking at town halls or midsummers.

“whatever you say, im sure rafe would appreciate it.”

you nod, take a deep breath, then stand. your mind seems to blur as you walk to the front, the pastor greeting you with a soft hug then leading you to the podium.

you clear your throat before looking down at the paper. 

“i never imagined a life without you. you were the first man i ever loved and i can't… i can't see myself ever having that same love again. we changed each other so much. we went from kids to young adults planning out their life together. i love you so much, rafe. i always will no matter how much time passes.” you vow.

your next words turn robotic, talking about the family he left behind, his accomplishments, things that don't actually matter to you but you know should be said. you recount the five years you were together, knowing someone is no doubt scoffing at how little it is, but it was your whole world.

you manage to hold in your sobs until you sit back down. you spend the rest of the funeral with your head down, unable to look at the pictures hung around the church.

-- 2 months later --

you let out a groan as you turn over in bed, not wanting to wake up, wanting to spend another day rotting under the covers.

“it's almost noon.” your mom says, peaking in to the door.

“yeah.” you say, sniffling as you see the photo on your nightstand when you go to look at your alarm clock. you can't bring yourself to move it, even if it makes you cry every time you see rafes smiling face. “i know.”

“maybe we could go out to dinner. or order some pizza? you need to eat, baby.” you know your mom is just looking out for you, but the thought of food makes you feel sick, eating at this point when your stomach truly needs it.

“yeah, maybe.” you pick your phone up off the nightstand and unplug it. “im gonna take a shower and get dressed.”

“that's good.” your mom says. “i love you, y/n.”

“love you too mama.” you pause for a beat when she doesn't shut your door. “thank you.”

you mom nods before exiting. you open up your phone to the gallery that causes you as much pain as it has joy, flicking through your final photos with rafe before sighing and getting up to shower with him fresh in your mind, determined to not forget a single thing about him.

--

you're about to go to sleep, pass out and hopefully not dream of anything. you went out for dinner like you promised your mom, trying to keep a brave face for her. she didn't even mention anything when you came back from an extended trip to the bathroom with tear stains on your cheeks and red eyes.

you grab your phone, swallowing harshly to stop yourself from crying again as you click on your messages, rafes contact still pinned to the top. 

you click on your messages. the last text was rafe saying he loved you. you never got to text him back, but you know he was aware of how much you loved him.

you scroll back for a bit, smiling at his jokes even with the tears in your eyes.

you lock your phone and place it on your chest, looking up at the glittering stars through your skylight. “i miss you so much, rafe. why'd you have to leave me?”

your phone vibrates. you almost ignore it, not caring who it could be from, you've practically ditched all your friends, hoping they won't hold it against you when you finally feel good enough to hang out again, if that time ever comes.

something in you makes you pause when you go to plug your phone in, makes you hesitate and open up the text.

baby, im so sorry. please meet me outside, im at your dock.

love, rafe

you frown at the text from the unknown number, considering ignoring the obvious prank as you fling off your covers, body now fueled with rafe, but when you look out the window, there is an unfamiliar boat tied to your dock.

you slip on your shoes, not really thinking of a plan as you head outside, rushing through the yard to find out whoever is playing tricks on you.

the moon barely lights your steps as you stomp down the wooden dock until you're close enough from the boat for them to hear you and far enough from your house to not wake up your mom.

“this isn't fucking funny!” you scream. “whoever is pranking me, you're fucked up!”

a figure steps out of the boat and onto your dock. it takes your eyes a second to adjust, to really take in what you're seeing, to know it's reality.

“n-no.” you take a staggering step back. “im-im seeing things.”

“it's really me, baby.” the word hits you like a bullet as you fall to your knees, not caring that they dig into the wood. “i can explain everything but-but can i touch you? ive missed you so goddamn much.”

“this isn't real. you're- you're dead. im dreaming.”

rafe moves closer, dropping to his knees as well and pulling you into a tight hug. it isn't until he touches you that you know that it's not a dream, hes real and warm against you.

“oh, god.” you begin to sob, clutching onto rafe, clambering closer to him, climbing onto his lap and hugging him so tightly it's like your bodies could become one.

“im so fucking sorry baby. i love you. i love you so much.”

“i love you.” you sob, pulling back to look rafe in the eye. “i-i love you and you can never leave me again.”

you'll demand answers later, but now you're just happy your initial gut instinct was right, your boyfriend is right here, alive and well.

“can i kiss you? you're probably pissed at me but-”

you don't wait for rafe to finishing, surging forward and smashing your lips against his, all the passion and feelings of the past two months without him, but also the past five years of love, put into your bodies as you kiss under the moonlight.

“baby-” rafe gasps after a minute. “i-i need to get back on the boat. just in case i’m seen. come with me.”

“okay.” you're not sure what it means, but you're not going to let rafe out of your sight.

rafe climbs onto the boat before helping you, hand carefully stroking over yours as he leads you into the cabin.

“did you tell anyone that i messaged you?” he asks, sitting down on the bed and pulling you to his side.

“no.” you shake your head. “my mom doesn't even know.”

“that's good.” rafe nods. “i faked my death.”

“i can tell.” you giggle, unable to keep away for much longer as you press your lips against his in a quick peck before curiosity has your tongue loosening. “how? why?”

“my dad planned it for me. the boat was rigged to explode and i went and suited up in scuba gear. the why…” rafe hesitates for a moment, and you can read every emotion on his face.

“just tell me.” you say. “you can't hurt me. you can't make me mad at you, not when i just got you back.”

“i killed sheriff peterkin.” rafe swallows harshly. “it was to protect my dad, but of course nobody would believe me.”

“i believe you.” you tell rafe, tucking your head into his neck. “that must have been so scary, but i know how you'd do anything to protect the people you love.”

“my dad didn't want me to tell you at all. i agreed to wait until after it happened, but it all moved so fast, and when i got to where i was supposed to hide out for a while, i realized i had no way of contacting you. i had to steal a phone and this boat and leave the safehouse.”

“what's the plan now then?” you ask.

“have you come back to the safehouse with me. it's in the caribbean, on a gorgeous island. i will provide everything you need, we won't have to hide there.”

“and what will i tell my family? tell everyone?”

“well, your mom loves me.” rafe smiles, knowing he's right. “i think we can trust her to keep the secret. as for everyone else… maybe you just need some time away from the outer banks after what happened. maybe some cousins in michigan or something?”

“whatever.” you shake your head. “i just need to be with you.”

-- one week later --

“when you said safe house…” you look around the mansion. “this is not what i was picturing.”

“the locals here think im a cousin of the cameron family. allows me to stay here without much suspicion. i do keep a low profile and stay out of touristy areas just in case, but we can do whatever you want here. the ocean is right outside our doorstep.”

“and money? do i need to get a job?” you've never worked before, having grown up wealthy, but you're willing to do anything to keep your life going with rafe, having told your mom who didn't believe you until rafe stepped into the room. she saw the spark in your eyes and recognized it as the same one in hers when she looked at your father, and her time was also cut short when he passed young.

she made you promise to call and to let her visit every couple months, just enough to not be suspicious.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “my dad funnels me money. cash, so no one gets suspicious.”

“honestly, i could just stay forever in the house and in the backyard.” you laugh, wrapping your arms around rafes shoulders, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“my dad will figure something out eventually, i don't expect you to hide for the rest of your life.”

“okay.” you shrug. now that you're with rafe, you don't care. you're going to be happy no matter what after feeling the pain of losing him.

“there is one more room i want to show you…” rafe picks you up, your legs slotting around his waist like nothing ever happened. 

you laugh as you kiss his neck, knowing exactly where he's taking you.

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hii, this is my first time requesting and I wanted to know if you could do an Alastor x hard to get fem reader, who is somewhat stronger than him in the beginning, but as Alastor fights more overlords he gets stronger and tries to woo her into a relationship with him and she is just not having it. Maybe he goes as far as killing a member of the Goetia family to prove his strength but in turn makes the reader like panic and cast him away from her. Maybe Alastor wins her back by taking care of someone that’s been bother her than she doesn’t have time to deal with, like a stalker or something. I hope this wasn’t too much, I just really love your writing!

A/N: kiss your brain i love this so much!!! I love writing for Alastor and i’m so excited for the show to come out so this makes me extra excited!! I haven’t written in a little while so I apologize if this was a bit off, still getting into the swing of things! But I hope this was good!

Warnings: Obsessiveness, slight yandere!, murder, power trip, mentions of death, cannibalism, mentions of blood

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Hard to get

Meeting you wasn’t something Alastor thought would affect him as much as it did

You were different, but a different that scared him and he hated that

Your power and calmness together sent shivers down his spine, it gave him an adrenaline he had been craving and he didn’t even know it

After his fight with you he had fled, to hide away bask in your energy

He had gone as far as studying you from afar, watching the way you carried yourself and the way you went about your day

He would become stronger than you, to take you down but to also have you as his own; his bride

In his eyes you were a prize to be cherished, someone to love so dearly you wouldn’t need to lift a finger again

He had talked to you during a meeting with other overlords, after everyone was done cowering from his power

You were quiet, stoic and didn’t say much- hell you didn’t even spare him a glance

¨Hello dear!¨Alastor said calmly to you after the meeting.

You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him with a blank face, waiting for him to continue

¨May I help you?¨You asked, and he just grinned

¨Why yes you may! I couldn’t help but take notice to how awfully somber you looked all by your lonesome and felt it was my duty to accompany you.¨He said with a grin, leaning down to get a better look at your features.

¨I was actually doing quite fine before you came along thank you.¨You say, facing away from him and turning your nose up slightly. You clearly couldn’t be bothered to socialize with someone like him. His smile stretched painfully wide and he fought every urge to pull you to him right there.

¨Well I-¨

You cut him off

¨If you wouldn’t mind, the stench of blood is heavily present on you and I’d appreciate it if you cleaned yourself up properly and kindly left me alone. I’d hate to have a repeat of our first meeting.¨You said, side eyeing him.

He was stunned to say the least, and without another word, walked away from you, his dignity in shards at his feet.

You had really pushed him over this edge and a part of him was living for it but the other part really wanted to burn the entire city down.

Weeks went by and he was silent for a while, pondering over your words and what you had said. Clearly your standards were high, higher than him by far. He would have to play better.

He began taking his anger out on other overlords, claiming territory day by day and night by night. His carnage all over the radio, for you to hear. His subliminal message to you, that he was a changed man. Ready to be the man you needed him to be.

¨Please, whatever you want Ill give it to you, just please enough of this!¨ The overlord shrieked as Alastor rummaged through their belongings, his shadows making work of their lower ranked demons.

He stops when he sees a picture of you on their wall, a photo, where you were actually smiling.

Words couldn’t express how his dead heart felt, he was in such a state of shock he didn’t even remember killing the poor overlord. What a shame, and here he thought he could’ve asked some good questions about you.

He keeps the picture for himself, along with a file the overlord had made about you

Clearly you were smarter than you let on, because the file was made up of small things almost anyone could gather about you- poised, confident, but quiet

Alastor had made his way to where you resided, a large estate in a rural area, with a tower attached to the back of the building. It was gorgeous and seemingly had you written all over it.

Stepping onto the front grounds, he took notice to how the grass was withered and dead, but sharp black roses decorated the steps leading up to you’re front door. It was so elegant, so precise. So much so he had fallen in love all over again.

He hadn’t bothered to get flowers, knowing you would probably take them and kill them right in front of him.

Knocking on the door three times he waited quietly, hearing light footsteps make their way to the door.

A smaller, frail woman opened the door, and he smiled politely down at her.

¨Hello sir, I believe her majesty is not available right now. Though she expected your arrival. Would you care to come inside and wait for her with some hot tea?¨ The small woman asked.

Alastor just nodded and stepped inside, taking the interior in as best as he could, hoping to burn the image into his brain. The smaller woman led him through various halls, all elegantly decorated by your hand as she explained, before leading him to your study, a large library with a glass windows all around.

He took a seat, taking the liberty to put a record on, slowly humming to the jazz as he waited for your arrival.

Some time later you stepped in, G��etia prince in toe as you pulled a book from the higher shelves with your magic, handing it to the prince.

¨I believe this was all¨ was all you said. He nodded, the two of you giving Alastor a quick glance before shaking hands. The Goetia prince turned on his heel and left quickly, leaving you to deal with Alastor.

¨You have proven to be a constant thorn in my side.¨You sigh, sitting across from Alastor in your study. He just grins, finally happy to have some of your attention.

¨Well a thorn does belong on a rose, does it not?¨He asked, and you clicked your tongue.

¨Roses get their thorns cut off.¨You reply, still cold and monotone. There’s no expression on your face, and its then he takes in your appearance.

Dressed from head to toe in a long black dress that hugs you quite nicely. Your hair is done back, away from your face, making your features all the more present. You sit cross legged, and don’t say much else, waiting for a response.

¨Well that is also true.¨Alastor finally draws out. You hum, leaning back in your chair.

¨What it is you want from me?¨You ask finally, eyes shutting for a moment.

¨Well I-¨Alastor stops, the door opening to reveal the smaller woman again.

¨Excuse me your majesty, but the prince is back- and quite enraged.¨She said nervously, a loud crash coming from down the hall. You sigh, standing.

¨A moment please.¨You excuse yourself, leaving the study. The small woman stays inside, and Alastor decides to take this time to question her.

¨That prince, is he?¨Alastor asks, and the small woman shakes her head.

¨Goodness no, her majesty would never get with royalty. She’s trying to get away from that life.¨The small woman said. So the prince wasn’t your prince, that was for sure.

¨How long has she been down here?¨Alastor asks, knowing his arrival had been pretty recent.

¨twenty years. Died on March fifth, 1909.¨ The small woman said. ¨She was a child when she died, but thankfully to her power, she can continue to age as much as she wants here. Per her family’s request.¨ The woman said.

¨I hope you two are having fun gossiping.¨You said stepping back into the room, flicking a piece of glass off of your hand. Alastor sits up, now a bit more confident in talking to you.

¨Oh the most fun one could have.¨Alastor draws on, the small woman nodding to him as she steps out. You take your place back across from him, massaging your temples.

¨Lets get on with this shall we.¨You say, ¨I don’t know what you want from me. But let it be known I have felt you watching me, lurking as one would say. If you don’t want a detachment from your head to your torso I would politely suggest you leaving me alone.¨You say, your eyes sharper, but tone still calm. He could see the enragement behind your tone.

¨Why don’t we have dinner? I can explain much more than my dear.¨

¨Do not call me that.¨You say, and he laughs.

¨I will not be so easily swayed, unfortunately for you.¨He says grinning. He stands, tapping his staff on the ground to wake his radio up. ¨I do believe that my visit must be cut short. I have more sinners to erase!¨He grins happily, poofing himself out of the room and elsewhere thanks to his shadow.

You don’t hear from him for quite some time, and its almost comforting. He kept his distance at overlord meetings, even though fewer overlords were alive to be present thanks to him.

You had began getting small gifts, and seeing shadows whenever you turned corners. Almost like a mind game. Though you were sure it was him, you had more important things to tend too than his childish games.

It wasn’t until you had gotten home from the Goetia ball that you were face to face with him again.

In the foyer of your home, black tiles stained red, Alastor stood in the middle of the mess. The Goetia prince beheaded in your home.

¨What have you done?!¨You yelled, panic settling in. Alastor had worked so hard for this. A Goetia prince? Hell royalty was a new kill for him truly.

¨He wont bother you anymore my dear, of course I had hoped the mess would be cleaned by now but the fight he put up was quite time consuming.¨He said with a chuckle.

¨Alastor get out. Now.¨You said, and it was then he had froze. You were surrounded by an aura of black smoke, breathing heavy and eyes going full white. The room had began to get darker, and the doors behind you flung open, wind raging as he fought to keep his feet planted on the ground.

¨Cant we just-¨

¨I said- get, out.¨You said, swapping places with him in a blink of an eye, having his body pushed through your doorway with the wind, sending him into the forest far away from your home.

It had been ten years since then.

Alastor had felt defeated. He had tried all he could. Gifts, flowers, cleaning up your messes that you refused to admit were yours. Hed taken out such awful suitors who thought they had a chance with you.

It wasn’t until the next overlord meeting, when you didn’t show up, he had gotten worried. He knew he should’ve stayed away. But he just couldn’t. He hadn’t looked you in the eye for so long, but putting his own fear judgment aside, he decided to check up on you. Rosie, a friend he had acquired, had told him one visit wouldn’t hurt.

He found your doors wide open, the area eerily quiet, the dust coating your home entirely out of character for you. A man stood in your foyer, calling your name over and over frustrated.

¨ Please Y/n,talk to me! Anything!¨He said. The man was trying his hardest to get you to show yourself.

¨Excuse me.¨ Alastor said, and the man turned to look at him.

¨Who the fuck are you?¨ The man asked, and Alastor just smiled.

¨ Someone you’re going to wish you never met.¨ he said. The man doesn’t have time to react, his bones breaking on him, as he collapses on the floor with a loud shriek of pain. It draws out for a bit before the man finally dies, a slice to his chest shutting him up as he chokes on his own blood. Alastor hums as his shadows make quick work of cleaning the mess he made. He knew you hated your tiles stained.

¨Alastor?¨ You ask, standing at the top of the staircase. Your hair is down, still in the same dress Alastor had memorized so well. He smiles, his dead heart freezing over at the sight of you.

¨hello dear. Forgive me for my sudden intrusion. You weren’t at todays meeting and I thought to check up on you.¨He said, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiping his hands with it. You walked down the steps slowly, taking in the shadows working on the now dead man on your floor.

¨ Did you do this?¨You asked, looking through the open door of your home. Your voice was softer than before. You looked a mess, but almost put together in a way. As if you were only slightly losing your mind.

¨Yes.¨He said, taking your hand and pulling you closer to him. He figured this was his last shot with you. Now that he had you here, he had to take advantage.

¨Mon cheri, I know you casted me away all those years ago. But I have you here now, and I cannot hold this will in my heart any longer without telling you.¨He said, his other hand turning your face to have you look at him. Your eyes were different this time, something he couldn’t read. But still, he kept on. ¨ I believe my love for you is strong in itself. I can protect you, you wont ever have to worry about some deadly sinner like this again. I know you didn’t believe I was capable of making you happy. But I must know now, if I am truly worthy of your love. I will do whatever it takes.¨ He said.

Your eyes were dark, with something he could only describe as pure lust. ¨Alastor please, you always were.¨You say with a smile. He had been so, immature before. But after years it seemed he changed, on the surface that was. Maybe you could give him a chance. Maybe he was worth coming out of the dark for a bit. Especially now, since he was stronger than you.

¨But, you must promise me something.¨ You say to him, and he nods quickly.

¨Of course.¨ He says. You grin at his willingness, and turn away from him, the mess he made now long gone.

¨Do not ever play me for a fool again.¨ You say. He stiffens and nods, hands as gently as possible reaching out for you.

He turns around around to face him, and almost jumps when he hears the doors to your home slam shut.

You don’t bat an eye, instead pulling him in by his tie and with a chuckle, eye his shadows as they snicker in a corner at the sight of the two of you. ¨ Dont worry, I know you wont.¨

Alastor just grinned, finally proud of himself. Not only had he gotten his power, no, he had gotten his hands on you as well.

[afyrian]

☆ not so bad

oikawa tooru x gn!reader (fluff) m.list | wc: 2.1k | prompts: only one bed + enemies to lovers + coworkers

    snow covers the street, your eyes trying to focus through the constantly moving windshield wipers. your finger taps incessantly against the steering wheel, the leather cover feeling comfortable beneath your clenched hands. your passenger (princess) and coworker winces as you take a quick turn, the ice making it hard to slow down with enough time. gaze darting towards him, eyes rolling exasperated.

  "i offered to let you drive, you're not gonna complain now," you look back towards the street, the streetlights barely fighting the incoming abundance of snow, only a large home down the street coming into view.

  he looks back over at you, something only your subconscious can feel. he scoffs lightly, the sound nearly swept away by the loud heaters in your car. "well i didn't think you'd nearly kill us on the drive. plus how are we even going to get there in this? we gotta find somewhere else to stay," he relays what you're already thinking in your head, like a broken record kept around for far too long.

  "well, how about- look is this an inn or something?" you slow the car down, no headlights on behind you or coming towards you.

  there's a quaint sign at the entrance of a large driveway and parking lot. a floral design etched into the wood, looking like something from an old romcom that you've seen a million times. pulling into the driveway, he starts to think out loud, running ideas through your head, "what if this is a murder hotel? like that one from america?"

  you roll your eyes again, the only thing you can seem to do in his presence. "oikawa, you're really getting on my nerves. i'm trying to stay professional but if you say one more word you're walking," you finally look over at him, noticing his eyes on you.

  there's something about the way his eyes still shine in the darkness. and for a second, you almost feel intrigued by his gaze, by his sarcastic smile. however, you're quickly pulled back to reality as you park in the mostly full parking lot. cars covered with snow make it almost impossible to find a spot, the rest of the snow building up to heights the rental car couldn't handle. 

  parking, you look towards the front door, "i'm gonna get us rooms before anyone else comes, grab the bags, will ya?"

  tossing him the keys, you open the door and grab your wallet. stepping through the thick snow, it picks up onto your ankles, chilling the space between your socks and pants. walking under the porch light, you happily let the warmth overtake you. and as you open the door, bright lights shine out the door, the indoor heat surpassing anything the small car could accomplish. 

  stepping in, you feel like you're in paradise. the old woodworkings of the house bring out the natural architecture that it has. family photos line the walls, generations of portraits up the staircase and down the halls. encompassed by the atmosphere of the inn, you don't even notice the front desk until a throat is cleared. looking over, you see a smile on the woman's face, her hands folded on the desk.

  "hi, my coworker and i got a little lost in the blizzard," you start, hand clutching your phone as you look up into the kind-looking woman's eyes, "and we were just wondering if you had any available rooms to stay in."

  she purses her lips, giving you a look that only a mother could procure. shaking her head slightly, she lets out a low sigh, "we only have one room dear, with one queen sized bed. i would recommend the both of you go to the next hotel or inn, but with the weather and how far they are..." 

  "right. well, does the room have a couch or anything?"

  "no, unfortunately the only room is quite small. it comes with an en-suite but it doesn't have enough room for other accommodations, i'm so sorry," the innkeeper stands before you, giving you an apologetic look through her lips and sunken eyebrows.

  just as you're about to say something, oikawa opens the door, walking up to you. snow covers his hair, sticking to the strands as some start to lose their shape beneath the heat. holding both bags, he sets them down beside you, looking between you and who you assume to be the owner. returning your gaze to the woman, you nod, deciding that it's the only option the two of you have.

  knowing oikawa is gonna give you flack for whatever you do, you realize it's your best bet, "okay, we'll take the room."

  "room-"

  looking to him, he soon realizes that if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under. closing his lips into a straight line, he watches as you use the company card to pay for the evening, grabbing the key from the lady. “it's beautifully crafted, like the rest of the home,” you nod, looking around. but oikawa can't stop looking at only you and seeing a kind side to you that he doesn't normally see. not when you both push each other's buttons more often than not.

  grabbing your bag from the ground, you thank the woman, giving her a soft nod. "let's go find our room," you sigh, looking back to oikawa, waiting for him to grab his bag and head up the stairs with you.

  following the line of portraits and photographs of the land, you see the closed doors, light shining out the bottom of only a couple of them. "so what did you mean by room?" oikawa whispers, leaning his head towards your's as he walks solemnly behind you.

  "exactly what i said... they have one room left. and we're not going back out into the storm. not when the other places are as far out as they are," you whisper back, making sure that none of the people working here could hear the two of you squabbling over the rooms.

  walking up to room four, you stick the key in, opening the door slowly. inside is a freshly made bed, a quilt comforter over white sheets with patterned pillowcases. it feels warm, not necessarily the temperature, which has settled to a comforting degree. but rather, it feels welcoming. the electric fireplace by the bathroom wall, the painting of rolling hills above the bed.

  oikawa looks inside from behind you, body nearly pressing up against your's. "so, left or right side?" he questions, peering down at you as you look back at him.

  shaking your head, you let out a short laugh. "well, i usually take the left side of my own bed..." you set your bag down by the wall, turning back to oikawa with a smile on your face, eyebrows raised.

  "there's some benefits to us being opposites then," he walks over to the right side of the bed, setting his bag down by the foot of the bed.

  you take in a deep breath, wondering how you're going to get through the next night or two with him. with how he jokes, how he looks at you with his glossy eyes. and especially, with how different the two of you are. narrowing your eyes, you nod, feeling like a deer in headlights.

  "well, i'm gonna get ready in the bathroom... i won't take too long or anything," you awkwardly step towards your bag, grabbing a change of clothes and your toiletries.

  walking towards the bathroom, you look back at him for a moment, cracking a smile. he's searching through his bag for something, eyebrows furrowed. oikawa always has such a determined look on his face, and only now did you notice the quirks that he carries. the way his tongue sticks out or his hand reaches to run through his hair. shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality.

  closing the door behind you, you start getting ready. you put on a matching pair of pajamas and start washing your face. it’s a soothing moment for you, time to yourself so you can truly relax before facing him again. 

  uncapping your toothbrush, you run it under the water first, letting the bristles loosen. leaving a trail of toothpaste on the brush, you bring it up to your mouth, brushing while you grab your phone. checking the screen, you notice it's getting late, and since you have to get up fairly early to get back on the road... your brain stops thinking of the future when you hear something fall.

  setting down your phone quickly, you unlock and pull open the door. there stands oikawa, shirtless, with his phone on the ground. immediately you look away, looking up towards the ceiling so you don't have to meet his gaze again. "sorry, dropped my phone."

  nodding, you turn back into the bathroom, spitting the toothpaste back into the sick. your mind relays the short moment, like it's something you see but nearly every part of you wants to ignore or forget. nearly every part of you. rinsing the toothbrush back down, you set it down beside the sink. "yeah, i was wondering if you tripped and fell. happy i don't have to call for help or anything," you shrug your shoulders, stepping back into the room and turning the bathroom light off.

  when you step out, he's throwing his shirt on. bringing it down over his head and down his torso. looking away once more, you find your cheeks warming up. "unlike you, i'm not a total klutz," oikawa walks over to the side of the bed, pulling back the comforter and top sheet, tossing one of the extra pillows onto a dresser. 

  "no, but you seem to not like comfort. one pillow is not nearly enough for a comfortable sleep," you join him on your side, pulling back the sheets but keeping your gaze on his, hands moving on their own.

  oikawa shakes his head, finally being the one to back down from your gaze. he looks over to your two, and then to his that he tossed off, "well if you like comfort so much, feel free to take mine. and it is comfortable, in fact it's actually nice to keep my neck from hurting."

  "i will gladly take your pillow and i'll stuff it between us," you walk over, grabbing the pillow off the dresser and onto the bed.

  the two of you simultaneously get onto the bed, kneeling face to face, inches apart. he stares at you for a second, swallowing, adam's apple bobbing. clenching your jaw, you lean back and sit on your leg, letting the other rest along the bed. you look at your phone, no notifications filling your screen, leaving the two of you with an awkward silence. 

  bringing your leg out with the other, you pull the comforter and sheet on. you quickly set your phone down on the bedside table and hope that the drowsiness of the night will help drown the tension. "you have a light switch near you, right?" oikawa asks, bringing the sheets up on his side as well, mirroring you.

  "yeah," you whisper, your voice quiet as you reach over and flick the spare light switch down, "okay, goodnight."

  the two of you sit in silence. and despite the shades drawn and the sun down, you can't seem to cut the intense feeling you both carry. oikawa clears his throat only a couple of minutes in of laying there. it breaks the tension for only a moment before the two of you are lying there on your backs, wondering what to do.

  "if we weren't on a business trip i'd say it'd be fun to go sledding or build a snowman," oikawa mentions and you hear his pillow shift, his head turning towards you.

  turning your head towards his, you nod against your pillow. "i don't know, i'm partial to snowball fights i think," your shoulders shrug, only able to see his eyes and his outline in the darkness.

  "of course you'd be," he scoffs, turning his head back, eyes staring forward.

  "god, you are so annoying," you shake your head, staring forward as well, "goodnight for good now." 

  turning away from him, you feel your lips turn up into a smile. something about him makes you so annoyed, so frustrated. but it also makes life so much more exciting, making it not so bad. oikawa started feeling the same way when he woke up early in the morning, arm wrapped around you. the pillow had been thrown to the ground, and your hair was in his face, but it all felt so good.

a/n: longest oneshot i’ve ever done and it’s an oikawa fic… gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy

[latenightdaydreams]

HIII 💜 I LOVE ur work smm

I was wondering if you were thinking of writing Zombie Apocalypse AU Part 3 for Konig🫣

I understand if ur busy!

HI!!! Thank you!!!!

ZombieApocalypseAU!König x Reader Part 3 (fem)

Part 1, Part 2

@honeybadger-the-goat-queen, @mercyofdiscord, @nicolebarnes, @inosaf

MDNI 🔞 First two part are smut, this one lacks but has violence

Master List ✍🏽

>cw:fem/afab, violence

1.3k word count

🧟

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After only two weeks, the supplies that would have lasted you a month run out. König is a massive man leading him to burn through food. He stands with his hand on his hip looking down at the new cans of food and dry goods before turning to face you.

“We need to make a run.”

“I can—”

“Don’t be an idiot, you’re not leaving my sight.” He grabs a backpack and hands it to you, but doesn’t let go when you reach for it. “If you try to run, I will hurt you.”

“I know.” You say in a meek voice before he finally lets go of the bag.

The dangerous look in his eyes let you know that he means what he’s saying. He picks up his bag before walking out of the small closet with you, exiting the school building. It’s quiet outside. No sounds of humans, zombies, or even animals. Your eyes dart up to König, waiting for instruction and he motions for you to follow him.

The nearest stores have been mostly raided, so he opts for a residential neighborhood. It’s eerie to see what remains of what was once someone’s safe haven, a home. König uses his military skills to get you both into the first home in good shape, the doors and windows still locked.

His hands wrap around your waist as he assists you through the window, carefully placing you on your feet. Inside the smell of decay hits you instantly. As you both step into the living room, it becomes clear why. On the couch are the bodies of a family, clearly a murder-suicide. The image causes you to gag, turning to throw up on the floor behind you. König looks down at you, clearly not phased by what he’s seeing.

“They’re better off.” He says, not in a comforting tone, but implying they were weak.

König walks past you to the kitchen, opening up their cabinets searching for anything still edible. You linger, looking at photos of the family that are lined up on the table. A pit in your stomach forms as you take time to remember your own family you’ve lost.

“Schatz, come here.”

You quickly turn and walk towards König to see a stack of cans of food. There is a pause before you walk forward and help him pack them into your bag. He works effectively while you struggle trying to not think of this family's last moments together.

Before the outbreak started, you would have liked to live like this. A cozy life with a loving family. All of these people with hopes, dreams, feelings; they’re all undead or simply dead now. Yet you, with nothing, get to carry on.

“Who were you? Before…this.”

König stops what he’s doing and looks down at you. For a moment he thinks, finally deciding to just be open. This is the end of it all, and he’d like to be known for who he truly was. There is no point in lying.

“A colonel in a military task force named KorTac.” His eyes meet yours as he leans back against the counter. “I was a brutal killing machine, a cocky one too.” A smile crosses his lips, unable to suppress his fond view of those times. If he could go back, he would in a heartbeat; but with you. “Who were you?”

“I- I was no one.”

König’s smile slowly drops as he hears you say this. He takes the bag and places it aside, sitting down on the kitchen floor and pulling you down to sit with him, His arms cradle your much smaller body as he holds you to him. “Why do you say that?”

“I was a waitress; a college dropout with no plan for my future.” You speak softly, trying to suppress the sadness in your tone.

“Yet you’re one of the few surviving in this new world. You aren’t a nobody. You’re a warrior now.”

He kisses the back of your head as he holds you. While he’s aware you don’t share his feelings, he can’t deny his own. You’re beautiful and calm the storm that rages inside of his mind. The way your body feels against his, how you so easily submit to him. There has never been a woman that just gets him. He’s a man in love; obsessed.

“Were you married?” You ask, resting your head back on his chest.

“Ja, but we divorced way before this happened. No children.” König doesn’t ask about you, the thought of anyone else having your love causes his face to grow hot with jealousy.

“I—”

“I don’t want to know.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re mine now and that’s all I need to know.” His lips kiss down your neck before he leans back. “We should keep searching before sun down.”

The next few homes bear very little goods. As the sky begins to turn orange, König calls it a day and begins to walk back home with you. His much larger hand slips into yours, walking casually with you, enjoying the sunset. He carries both bags so you don’t have to stress your body out.

“Did you want kids?” You ask him.

“Nein, but now I think I might.” He says while keeping his eyes focused on your surroundings, occasionally looking down at you.

“Even in this chaos?”

“I don’t think it will last forever. Even so, humans will adapt. We always do.”

“Hey!” A distant male voice catches you both off guard. “Y/n?”

König’s head snaps in the direction of the voice, instantly pulling you behind him. “Who is that?” He growls in a low tone to you.

“I don’t know—”

“You’re mistaken.” König calls out to the man.

“It’s me, Peter.”

König’s eyes darken as he looked behind him down at you, waiting for you to tell him who ‘Peter’ is. “Who?”

“That’s a guy from work.” This could be your way to freedom, the way away from König.

König drops the bags gently onto the ground to not break anything. He walks forward, leaving you behind as he approaches Peter. You quickly rush and grab König’s arm, pulling him back. His gaze lands on you.

“Please, what are you doing?” You ask frantically.

“Guard the bags.” He pulls away from you, walking on.

“Hey, y/n, are you okay?”

“She’s okay. Who are you?” König asks, continuing to approach him.

“I’m a friend. Who the hell are you?” Peter can see the look of fear on your face as he begins to step away from König.

“Her owner. And I don’t like random men speaking to what’s mine.”

“Peter! Please help me!” You cry out in a moment of desperation, only angering König more.

“Back up!” Peter pulls a knife from his belt buckle, ready to defend himself.

König quickly wraps his hand around his neck, slamming him back into the ground. You gasp loudly, covering your mouth so you don’t scream and attract zombies. König say’s something to him that you can understand before slamming Peter into the ground repeatedly. Tears stream from your eyes as you see the pool of blood pouring from the back of his head.

Once Peter is no longer moving König stops, standing and looking down at the lifeless body. He turns to see you on all fours throwing up and sobbing. A huff of air leaves him as he marches back over to you. His fingers grip your hair tightly, pulling you up to your feet as you attempt to crawl away from him.

“Help?” He growls.

“Please! Put me down!”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You’re mine! Act like it!” König grabs the bags and pulls you by your hair, forcing you to stumble over your feet as you try to keep up with his angry speed. “Mine.”

[specialagentlokitty]

Will Graham x teen!reader - our support animals

Hi I would like a request for Will Graham and teen Reader getting a dog and somehow gets an old boy who was returned 5 times? - Anon💜

Sitting on the steps in front of your school, you glanced down at your watch in order to check the time, wondering if it was worth just going for a walk or not.

You didn’t want to be at school, so you had messaged Will asking if he could come pick you up since you didn’t know who else to call at this point.

Finally you saw his car pulling up outside, and you got up, making your way to the passenger side in order to get in.

“Thanks for getting me…” you mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

You gave a small shrug, resting your head on the window as you watched everything just rolling by.

“Not ready to go back?”

“No… I don’t know I just… all those people.. all looking at me.. I don’t know..”

Will glanced at you, turning his attention back to the road.

“They know what happened.” He said.

“I mean who doesn’t at this point? My parents were murdered a nearly a year ago, they weren’t all that great at parents anyways and now im in the care of an FBI agent who isn’t really FBI agent. I missed the rest of the school year last year and news travels fast I guess.”

“You don’t have to be in my care if you don’t want to be. Children’s services already said they can easily find you a home if you want it.”

You whipped your head around to look at him.

“No!”

You frowned a little.

“I just… I don’t.. they’ll all be happy families…”

“You can’t be around that right now, I understand that.”

You nodded your head, looking back to the road, trying to figure out where you guys were going.

“I’m sorry I made you leave work.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything interesting anyway, and I don’t think I could have sat there listening to Jack for much longer.”

This made you smile a little bit, and you look at him.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out a minute.”

You turned back to watching the roads go by, and finally Will pulled the car into a parking lot, and you climbed out of the car.

“A rescue?”

“I know you love the dogs, you get sad when they all follow me not you. So, we’re going to get you your own dog, Hannibal believes having a pet may help in your recovery.”

You furrowed your brow and Will opened the door to the rescue, gesturing for you to enter, and you did looking around.

While he went to talk to the people in the reception, you looked around, wondering about to look at posters and photos of the animals they had up for adoption.

You weren’t paying that much attention to anything else that going on, and every so often Will would glance at you to make sure that you were still there.

“(Y/N), please don’t wonder away.”

You turned to look at Will and he held his arm out to you.

You walked over and stood next to him, you turned away from the receptionist, and Will kept a hand on your shoulder.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for in a pet?” The woman asked.

Will looked down at you and you shook your head.

“Can we just look at them all?”

“If you want to then yes.” He smiled.

He carried on speaking to the woman, and you stretched a little bit, letting out a yawn as you waited.

Finally you were allowed to walk through and have a look at all the dogs.

There was a lot of barking, and in a strange way it put you at ease, living with Will as your caretaker for nearly a year had made you used to the sounds of barking.

“What about this one?” Will asked.

You walked over to him.

“It says her name is Luna, she’s a husky, she’s two years old, is very friendly, gets along with other dogs, was surrendered because the family couldn’t keep up with the upkeep of a husky.”

You looked at Luna, crouching down to see her better, and she paced back and forth, tail wagging happily.

“She’s really cute.”

“Do you want to keep looking?”

You nodded, letting Will help you stand up.

You carried on slowly wondering, stopping to look at all the dogs you past, Will would read you the information about them and you would keep wondering.

Will had taken particular interest in one of the dogs and you kept looking around at all of them until you reached the end kennel.

You carefully read over the information on the board and you sat down on the floor.

“Hey Enzo…”

The old Labrador lazily wagged his tail as he wondered over, laying down in front of the door, resting his head on his paws.

“Will?”

You turned to look at him and he got up, following after you.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I want Enzo.”

Will knelt down next to you, looking at the old dog.

“Yeah? What’s his story?”

“They’re not sure how old he is, but they do know he’s old. He’s been returned five times, apparently nobody wants to keep cause he’s old. That’s not fair…”

“It’s not.”

Will got up, placing a hand on your head to get your attention.

“Let’s go get one of the staff.”

“Can I stay with Enzo?”

Will glanced around, he didn’t seem so sure about the idea of leaving you alone there, but he saw there was only one entrance and exit.

“Alright, I’ll be just a minute.”

Will made his way to get a member of staff so you could meet the old Labrador and you sat on the floor, Enzo resting against your chest as you hugged him.

Will and the worker both smiled at the scene of you just cuddling this old dog who had been returned so many times.

“We’ll adopt him.” Will said.

You turned around to Will, smiling from ear to ear at him.

“I love him, he’s so sweet.”

“Well you have to love him because he’s yours and we’re not bringing him back.”

“Good.” You said.

Will filled out all the paperwork while you sat in the back of his car with Enzo, just happily petting the dogs head.

You were excited to bring Enzo back to meet all of Will’s dogs, and Enzo was pretty happy to go around with them all, wondering and exploring his new home.

You sat on the floor, waiting for him to come back so you could go back to petting him.

Will was sitting on the couch, stroking one of the other dogs.

“Do you think he knows any tricks?” You asked.

“I’m not sure, you’ll have to try. Go get the dog treats.”

You jumped up, running to the kitchen to get the dog treats and you sat on the couch next to Will, handing them to him.

You didn’t know as much about dogs as Will did, so you decided to let him see if Enzo knew any tricks or anything of the sort.

“Enzo come here boy!” You called.

The old slowly wondered over, stretching a little as he approached.

“Here, just hold this in your hand, let him see it.”

You did want Will said.

“Now, just say his name and whatever it is you’re wanting him to do.”

“Enzo sit.”

The old dog sat down, along with a few others.

“Now, give him the treat, scratch his head and tell him he’s a good dog. Positive actions mean he’ll bond to you more.”

“Good boy Enzo.”

You handed the Labrador his treat, and ruffled the fur behind his ears, grinning from ear to ear.

“We’ll get him settled in before we take him outside, and we’ll rest his recall while we’re here too.”

“Recall?”

You turned to look at Will.

“Yes. It’s how well an animal responds when you call their name, call them back to you, especially off leash dogs it’s very important.”

“Oh, if he doesn’t have good recall can we teach him it.”

Will smiled a little.

“Yeah, we can try to.”

“He’s gonna be my dog, you’re not allowed Enzo.”

Will chuckled a little bit at you.

“What if he likes me more?”

“Nope. He’s my dog.”

You sat back on the couch, patting your legs for Enzo, and he lazily climbed up, laying himself next to you with his head resting on your legs.

“Oh (Y/N) come on.”

Will had to stand up to let the dog lay down properly and you grinned from ear to ear at him.

“Do you want dinner yet?” Will asked.

“Uh, not yet. I’m not hungry. Can I help you cook it soon though? I don’t know how to cook.”

“I’ll teach you.”

You smiled, turning your attention back to Enzo and Will wondered away to do his own thing, happy that you were content there with your new family member.

He was hoping Enzo would help you in ways that he couldn’t, and since you refused to take part in any therapy he was hoping Enzo could be that support you needed especially on days when he couldn’t figure out how to help you.

Maybe there wasn’t fully enough room for another dog, but Will didn’t care about that, he could just adjust things a little if he needed too.

He had all his strays, and now you had Enzo, you both had your dogs for support, and you both had each other even if neither of you spoke about how you had fallen into Will’s care.

It didn’t matter, what mattered to Will now was keeping you safe and happy.

“Do you think he likes snow?” You called.

“I don’t know, we’ll find out soon.” He called back.

“Can he stay in my room?”

Will poked his head out for the kitchen.

“He can stay wherever you want him too (Y/N).”

You nodded your head, laying down on the couch to hug your new best friend

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 98 (Questioning Bay Security & Grim Pays an Unwanted Visit)

cw: pet death

While Conrad looked over his case files at the precinct, Detective Zion Spangler approached him. "Can you help me with the manager of Bay Security? He's resisting attempts to book him, and he says he won't talk to me."

Conrad knew J Huntington III through parent-teacher nights and school assemblies. Though his focus was meant to be on the search for Rafa and not the investigation into the suspicious death of Jimmy Stefano, Conrad was still frustrated by a lack of leads and agreed to talk to him.

"I don't have a clue what you brought me in for," he groused as the sergeant took his fingerprints.

"Questionable bookkeeping, Mr. Huntington, just like you were told when the detectives picked you up."

"Well, like hell I'm gonna talk to some green young nobody on the same force that needs our help to keep anyone safe in this town!"

Conrad sighed. "Well, if you don't talk to me, I can't promise you'll be home tonight for dinner with your wife and kids."

"Come on, Sargent. It's a few days before Winterfest and I promised my kids I'd take them out shopping for their mom."

He grew more cooperative after that, following Conrad into the interrogation room while Zion and a few others watched from the other side of the glass. J looked across the table with a sneer while Conrad pointed out where the cameras were inside the room.

"We're just trying to figure out why a security company with a monopoly at the docks was off duty that night, and there are some questions about the books. Really, there's a question about the lack of much in the way of books."

"We're a legal company. You should be talking to George Brindleton, not me. He said pull the guys, I pulled the guys. It's my job to do what he says."

"George is wintering in the sun, but if you don't give us enough to work with, we'll have to call him in for questioning when he gets back. You and I both know he won't like having to talk to us."

The thinly veiled threat was enough to get J to look at photos of the crime scene and give insight into his work for George Brindleton.

"We do what he wants and he signs big checks. He paid us to make up the loss in paid time so close to the holidays."

"He told our captain he was cutting costs in the dead season, but if he's paid you, regardless, he had another reason."

J shrugged. "Talk to George. I don't ask questions. It doesn't serve me."

"And breaking kneecaps to manage what goes in and out of the port serves you, instead?"

"That's the problem with law enforcement these days. You're too good. But people are terrible, Sargent Gordon."

"Is that what you tell your kids?"

"Your son is a Landgraab, Sargent. What do they know about being good?"

Conrad held his hands in his lap. "Ash is a lot like his mother."

J scowled and Conrad changed tactics. This wasn't getting them anywhere. "We looked into Bay Security, and we know George Brindleton is an arms-length investor. So why do you do strictly what he says?"

"There's a lot of simoleons in legacy families."

"What does that matter to you? J Huntington the Third, is it?"

"That's a joke. There's no J Huntington the First or Second, but my makers thought it'd be funny. It's not, and maybe you can guess why I don't speak to them these days. I named my son Caiden."

"What does George have on you?"

"On me? Nothing. I came into this job with the deal already in place, and it's better for my family if I just accept things as they are. I don't need to be a hero. I know a good cop like you wouldn't understand."

Conrad knew he was no hero. "Not one of your guys was hanging around the docks and saw anything the night of the murder? Isn't there a Friday night poker game in one of the old fishing boats?"

"If we don't have to break knees, Sargent, we don't. I don't keep tabs on them when they're not working."

"You've never seen the victim in Brindleton Bay before?"

He shook his head. "Not until you showed me that picture of him dead at the docks."

With little learned from the head of Bay Security, Conrad let J Huntington go with nothing gained in their search for Jimmy Stefano's killer. Ximena was still at large, but he was grateful she hadn't turned up around him or his family in the weeks since the murder, at least.

Winterfest was just a few days away, and Heather and Conrad planned to forge ahead with the holiday as if nothing was wrong. Heather, especially, was loath to let Ximena ruin her children's Winterfest, and they didn't want Ash to notice anything amiss.

But though they were wary of the threat posed by Ximena, they still faced unexpected tragedy right before the holiday break.

Heather's old cat, Boomer, got sick with hot feet. She took him to her clinic and tried to help him, but she soon realized there was nothing she could do. He was twenty-one; it was his time.

The fuzzy white mixed breed died of old age the night before Winterfest Eve. Heather had brought him home from the clinic so he could pass comfortably. When the time came, the Nesbitt-Gordon household was visited by a new friend.

After Grim helped Boomer cross the rainbow bridge, Heather invited him inside from the cold, and he comforted her over the loss. "Grief is a privilege reserved for those fortunate enough to know love," he said wisely.

Heather had many pets, and she dealt with loss at her clinic, but it didn't take the sting away. Not tonight. Still, she was grateful for Grim's kindness and sent him on his way with a smile. "Bella Goth's probably expecting you. Thank you for caring for Boomer tonight."

Grim disappeared with a pound of his scythe against the floor. Despite the advice, Heather was heartbroken, and the holiday season began under a cloud of sadness at the Nesbitt-Gordon home. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: In game, J Huntington III is married to Liberty Lee and they have two kids, son Caiden and daughter Alexis. J breaks kneecaps and Liberty's an astronaut, apparently.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Stu Matcher Would Include:

As a Yandere he will be very possessive of you and only you..he will do anything to keep you to himself, if anyone tries to flirt with you, get close to you, or even go near you he will get very jealous and might resort to harming or even murder. He will be obsessed with you. He will constantly check up on you, be clingy, and always want your attention and be around you.

He may constantly watch you from afar and be a creep, and he might even stalk you. He may be violent and aggressive to other people because he will want you all for himself. he will be very obsessed with you, and he will be willing to do anything to keep you with him, including murder or even kidnapping.

He would be very controlling.. he will control what you wear, who you talk to, or what you do.. he wants you to only listen to him and do what he asks. He will never let you leave his side, never. If someone tries to take you away from him, he will attack.

He will be jealous of any man who so glances at you. He will get jealous over a man, friend, or even family member talking to you or even existing near you. He will be very jealous of anyone who even thinks of you. anyone who looks at you, glances at you, talks to you, or just is near you, he will get super possessive.

He acts all cool and nonchalant in front of others, he seems to look like a decent guy to others, very calm and chill, but all of that changes when he is with you. He acts different, he shows his true colors and obsession when you’re alone

He will be very reassuring and make sure you know you’re his and his only.. He will constantly make sure you’re with him, and always will be. He will ask if you love him, want him, and need him .. he will remind him that he’s the only one who can take care of you and only him. He will be the most reassuring guy.

He will give you love and attention, he likes to compliment you and give you praises, also may give you gifts like expensive clothes and he will want to pay for your meals, he will always be willing to spoil you rotten and be all over you, he will want to make you feel special and give you anything.. as long as you, of course, only look at him and look at no one else.

He will be aggressive and mean if you seem like you are getting close with another guy, he will slap you or be violent and say things to you like “don't talk to other men” and “you are only mine, and mine alone.” He will get very aggressive and very jealous. He will punish you physically and will do anything to make you stop talking to other men.

He will fight with you sometimes, especially if you disobey him, or if you ignore him, when you have a fight he will act like a baby and want you to come back to him and say “ please come back to me,” “I’m sorry, please don't be mad, I love you,” “I don't know what I'll do if you're gone from me," "I'm sorry,” "just come back to me," he can be very controlling and very jealous so I wouldn't advise to make him mad.

He is very affectionate and clingy, he will try to be touchy and hug and kiss you, he will tell you he loves you and give you praise, he shows tons of affection and will be all over you. He likes to compliment you and praise you. He will want to be touchy and clingy with you. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his and only his.

He will always try to be super romantic and take you on dates, take you out to eat, to the movies, shopping and want to buy you things, he wants to take you anywhere and wants to keep you all to himself. He likes to spoil you rotten. He will want to go somewhere where no other men are around.

Billy doesn't really care that much, at first he thought it was weird but he just sees it as whatever and thinks it's funny, he doesn't care, he thinks Stu is the clingy one and Billy just let's it happen because he is pretty chill and has no problem with it.

He has a shrine of you, he has photos of you, he has your hair strands he even has a few pieces of your clothing. He will talk to the shrine if you and Billy are not around.

He likes to watch you in your sleep, he wants to make sure you are safe and sleeping safely, he will watch you every night, also he likes to go in your room when you’re not around, and he loves to go through your stuff to find out more of you or take things for his shrine.

Also he has cameras around your house to keep an eye on you and make sure you are safe, he likes to go through your phone to see if you’re cheating on him or talking to any other men.

He will want to marry you as soon as possible, he really wants to have you be legally his, he wants to marry you so bad that he would marry you the second he can, he will plan every detail of the wedding, just so he can have you as his forever.

He wants to have kids as soon as possible, he wants to have as many children as you can have, as quickly as he can, he loves the idea of having your children as his, they would be his and only his as he dreams of having a family with you.

If you didn't want or couldn't have kids, that would be a major problem for him. He really wants kids no matter what, and if you can’t have kids, he’ll look at other ways to have them like adoption, but if you didn’t want any, he would be in a lot of distress and be upset he can't have children with you.

"I'll always protect you. No one can hurt you. I'll do anything for you. I'll kill for you. I'll die for you. I'll love you more than anyone else can. You're mine. My everything. Please, don't leave me." His words would convey both his intense love and his paranoia at the idea of anyone taking you away from him.

Control Over Daily Life - Once you have submitted fully, he asserts dominion over every aspect of your existence. This includes dictating your schedule, diet, attire, hygiene habits, and social interactions, ensuring you live solely to serve his whims and satisfy his needs.

Foreplay - Building up anticipation before actually engaging in sexual activity is a skill he's mastered. Teasing, touching, kissing, and stroking you until you're begging for release is an art form unto itself.

Bondage and Restriction - Securing you with ropes, chains, or restraints allows him to exert total control over your movements and sensations.

Breath Play - The delicate balance between oxygen deprivation and release is a thrilling high-wire act for him. Watching your face contort in a mix of fear and euphoria as he restricts your airflow is a sight to behold.

Cuckolding - Watching you get ravaged by Billy, maybe even serving as a cum dumpster while he sits back and spectates.

[christinebloodwrittings]

Die in your arms #1

Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Warning: mentions of implied SA, imprisonment, murder.

July 1913. Manhattan, NYC.

The courtroom, with all those eyes staring, would make anyone tremble with anxiety. The jury of men in gloomy suits, whose faces you did not know and did not bother to remember, the judge with white hair and glasses perched on the tip of his nose, and the lawyer on the side of the people looked at you as if you were the worst scum in the world.

How distasteful.

The D.A’s office had taken the trouble to give you a new outfit to wear to court, with lots of layers and cream-colored ruffles. The last time you wore something so nice was when your parents brought you to a friend of the family’s house, for dinner.

The high neck of the dress was not tight, but given the heavy atmosphere and the nerves, it was as if a rope had been put around your neck.

"Your Honor, my client has not a single criminal record prior to this incident.  Her family in Denver reported her to missing persons five years ago, the police deliberately dropped the case after a week” he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before watching your lip quiver, “After her father asked to do so" but you knew that already.

Incident, five years of imprisonment, and the attorney who is supposed to be defending you used such a weak word to describe it all.

Also, your father… it should have surprised you, but after everything he said before it all started…it really didn’t.

Before your attorney could actually begin to speak, the defense took his sweet time trying to make you look like a serial killer, a potential risk to the community.

“Miss Desmond, is it true that your commanding officer knows that you are the New York Smiler?” the lawyer asked, the jury having their sole attention on you. “No” the scoffs of the public at the hearing  echoed in the room. “Do you consider yourself guilty of the twenty-two victims, murdered in between the years of 1910 and 1912?” it was only 1912, december, you remembered because there were christmas decorations on some houses.

“Twenty-one, and no, I did what was necessary to stay alive” at what cost, liberation? That one breath of fresh air felt like needles down your throat, and has brought you nothing but problems ever since.

“Twenty-one? There were twenty-two bodies at the scene” he placed a detailed record of the evidence found in the scene in front of the jury for all to read.

“When I left there was one that was still alive, since he was in no position to follow us, I didn’t do anything, I was the one to notify the ambulance about him” his kneecaps were shot with a gun, he would never walk again so it meant no harm at the moment.

Then, he continued to the one charge he could actually condemn you to, “Miss Desmond, did you or did you not fake an ID to enter the army?” your attorney nodded, giving you a pass to say the truth, given his strategy. “I did” he presented a photo of the woman of the original identification, “Who’s ID did you forged?” mercilessly, the memories flooded your mind. 

‘Everything will be alright Y/n, just…’ she took a deep breath before caressing your cheek, ‘Do what they say, and no harm will come to you’ her bloodied hair stuck to her face as she smiled, teeth broken and red. “Martha Woodsman” her name burnt as it left your tongue, “Who is she?” you closed your eyes trying to remember a time when she was the most beautiful woman inside the facilities. Her creole accent and brown skin, along with the greenest eyes you had ever seen, she was idyllic.

“Was” you corrected, “One of the eldest women inside the brothel, I stole her ID and placed a picture of myself” you answered with the truth, your voice trembling and breaking as you did. “Nothing further” that lawyer had some mercy in finishing his questions after that.

"Do you understand, Miss Desmond, that if you lie while under oath, you risk being charged with perjury?" the judge reminded you. The judge had a cold and defiant attitude towards you from the moment he found out that the accused was a woman. He reminded you about perjury with the sole motive of saying ‘you are a woman so don't get emotional and tell the truth’ indirectly. 

"Your Honor, I did plan the escape, down to the smallest detail, with the goal of getting out of that place without anyone getting hurt. The boss shouldn't have been there, I checked the schedule book three times before the escape." You were irritated, but you didn’t let his guts get to you. "If I had planned a murder of that magnitude, I would have admitted it from the start, they were bad men, but that doesn’t excuse ending a life like that, I didn’t plan to harm anyone that night" satisfied, yet adamant, he signaled to your defense to step forward.

In all, it took three sessions in court and at the grand jury, during which you spent the night in the cell of the police station closest to the courthouse. Three sessions that lasted about two weeks, telling the same story over and over again until someone could make up their mind.

"I understand that it's difficult for you, so take your time" Your defense looked at you as a victim, not as just another psychopath, it wasn’t a great help, his look of pity boiled your blood.

"I had been in brothels for a little over five years, in different places, although I didn't know exactly where, they blindfolded us and kept men with us, with guns" The weight and cold metal of a revolver barrel is a sensation that will never leave your skin.

"You and other women" matter of fact-ly directed himself towards you. "Yes" you tried to sound sad, not as nonchalant as you would hope. "How many would you say?" One hallway, five rooms, the red door always had more voices coming out.

"There were six of us in the room, but some time passed and two of them didn't come back. When I left I saw that there were more rooms so I guess more than a dozen" you managed to get 26 girls out, the red room was secured on the inside for some reason, so picking the lock resorted impossible, and when you thought you had cracked it, your boss came back through the main door.

Spotting you, red-handed.

"And those two who didn't come back, do you know what happened to them?" you shook your head, "Not very well, but I heard that the ones that aren't sold to other brothels are usually killed in front of the newer ones to set an example, but it may have been just a rumor".

"There were women of many ages, the youngest must have been about fifteen or fourteen" chained, with hands and legs to the wall. You watched as the youngest and newest ones entered trembling with fear, knowing there was only so much you could do for them.

“People of the jury, she’s no psychopath, she is a little girl who tried to escape her captors, a stray kitten who saw no other way than to scratch her abusers in self defense” ‘Oh call me kitten one more time’ you bit down, trying your very best not to give them even a smidge of anger to use against you.

“Miss Desmond, why did you join the army?” They had not asked themselves why, they had only seen the deception and identity theft. “Objection, relevance?” The defense tried to prevent your attorney from using a sympathy card, but the judge, tired of going over the same case over and over again, allowed it. Like the jury, he was curious as to why on earth a woman would want to enlist in the military.

“Overruled. Miss Desmond, answer the question” your answer left a few men in disbelief.

“I tried to join the police force to bring down the people in the brothel, but not only did they reject me, but also they didn’t believe me, so I thought the army would help me build my body to help others” ‘how noble’ you heard the judge mutter under his breath.

“You didn’t want anyone else to feel like a victim” speculative, that earned a misplaced objection. “No, I wanted to give the victims someone that would fight for them, some hope to survive” an executioner, someone that would cut the heads of the snakes for them.

The judge called both representatives to the chambers after they started arguing, faces far too close, fists tight and white, like two wolves showing their fangs in warning.

“She did forge an ID to enter the army” started the defense, "Forging an ID can be considered a misdemeanor, but my client did not do it for sinister reasons" continued your attorney. "And what do you suggest we do with your client, Mr. Davis?" the old judge sat, his eyes never leaving your over coloured form.

"Remand her to the care of her family, one foot outside will get her 35 to life in prison”  a bunch of files were opened before the eyes of the judge, records of your family mostly. "Does Ms. Desmond have a family, a husband?" no husband, though there were men that tried to buy you for that purpose, you never understood why. 

"A cousin in New Orleans, no husband” you shook your head at the thought of your cousin, you haven't seen him in years and now you were going to drop on his front door in shackles with a criminal record? “I don’t want to be a burden to my cousin”, you didn’t even know how he looked like after so many years.  

“If you get a husband, it will be the same sentence, remanded to his care, one year” tied to a man that will have a sexual appetite, and probably demand that of you, hell no. Your attorney saw the hesitation in your face, “Y/n listen, either is this or a lifetime in the reformatory in Indiana, your choice”.

After what felt like half an hour, the jury had come to a decision. 

“Does the jury have a verdict?” you closed your eyes, a bruising grip on your skirt as the leading man spoke, “We have, your honor”.

“On the charge of first-degree murder, how do you find?” the charge of planned manslaughter, “Not guilty” and how it hurt their pride to find no evidence of a planned murder. “On the charge of forgery, how do you find?” oh, that’s the one you would have to pay a few bucks to get rid of, “Guilty”.

After assuming that you would walk as a free woman, the judge proposed house arrest to the jury, “Gentlemen of the jury, do you agree with the solution?” instead of the fine that forgery would make you pay for the rest of your life and that you would not finish paying even after death, “Yes, your honor” now you were going to be imprisoned, again.

"Y/N Desmond, you are hereby remanded to your family’s care, you will be considered a flight risk, and your title as a soldier will be removed”

“This is an extraordinary measure, given that you freed more people than you killed, but as Mr. Davis says, one foot outside will resort to a lifetime behind bars, do you agree to this?” it’s not like you had any other option, “Yes your honor, thank you”.

The sound of the gavel was the last thing heard in that quiet courtroom. 

You were assigned a nurse for your medical care, among other cares. Given the severity of your wounds and the time it took you to call for help in the army, several of them became infected or went from being a knife scratch to a deep cut.

The stitches made by the commander's assistant were not the best, so some dead pieces of skin had to be surgically removed and sutured. More than one or the other, you looked like the daughter of the mummy and Frankenstein, covered in sutures and bandages.

Not to mention the cut on your cheek from the first time you were forced to please a man, orally. The mobster took an awfully big liberty in permanently scarring your face, which is why he was never allowed back in.

The train and ferry ride was long. At night you couldn't really appreciate the scenery, much less being handcuffed and delivered to your cousin's door without warning.

Finally, the police car that picked you up at the port stopped in front of a two-story brown house. In the darkness of the night, and with it being the new moon phase, there wasn't much you could make out of the image.

A police woman delivered a few punches to the front door, immediately attracting rapid footsteps from the inside. 

“Howard Desmond?” she asked, suddenly Howard was paler than he already was. “Yes, is there a problem, officers?” A tall man, with short, ebony-black, tattered hair, dressed in an old, smelly nightgown, as if he had never washed it, appeared through the door. 

"Your cousin, Y/n Desmond, is under your legal care for one year, the details are written here" he slammed a thick file against his chest, before pushing you inside "We'll be monitoring from time to time, just to make sure the sentence is carried out" he released the iron grip of the shackles and walked out the door.

“Thank you, uhm, good night officers” Howard said goodbye, absolutely sleep deprived and shocked. Though that would be an understatment.

“Y/n, what the hell?” He wobbled a little, but after processing it for a second, Howard ran to hug you. The embrace was something you longed, every fiber of your being wanted to remain in his arms until your flesh dissolved.The sudden pins and needles that his strength against your wounds provoked was everything but comfortable, but to be cared for just one second, you could bear with it.  

“What happened?” cold rushed by your body the second he stepped away, he glanced at the file for a second, “I can’t summarize five years of shit in a couple sentences” that came out shaky, more than you expected.

“How did the jury find you?” you rested your back against the wall, finding some comfort in the cold surface, “Not guilty for first-degree murder, but guilty for forgery, thank god they oversaw the identity theft charge” he was appalled, not understanding a single thing and making movie about you being a mastermind of crime in his head. You rolled your eyes and pointed to the file they gave him, “Like they said, read it, may I have some water?” from the table next to the coats he took a small pair of glasses, his face became paler as he read the reports. “Of course” he sprinted towards the kitchen whilst reading and muttering ‘oh goodness’ as he went.

Meanwhile you took it upon yourself to wander around the living room, specially to the picture frames on top of the fireplace. His graduation, marriage - she was pretty, maybe too pretty-, then Howard in front of a building with a glass and lots of happy people - maybe a grand opening?-.  

His pacing sound made you turn around, the silence as he handed you the glass of water was sepulchral. “Wow, you own a business? Swell” an ice breaker, not a very good one, because he didn’t seem to un-glue his eyes off the pages. 

“Twenty-one?” he breathlessly asked, either in disbelief or pride, you weren’t sure, his tone didn’t match the smile on his face. You nodded, saying something would be redundant, given that your confession was on the report, signed by you. 

“And a nurse will be coming to my house to tend to your rehab?” Multiple injuries that worsened over time, bones that healed poorly, rehabilitation and physical therapy was the only option the doctor gave you to heal completely. You thought it was incredibly invasive, but they promised you a woman nurse to aid you, so in order to heal, you could bear it. 

“It’s already paid for” Howard felt his knees buckle at the sudden information, he hadn’t seen you in years and you show up with this kind of situation, money wasn’t the problem. “You know that’s not what I mean” with that he meant perhaps what kind of people the crime committed could attract.

“Look, I didn’t want this to happen, my parents aren’t an option and I don’t have a husband, please” begging to stay somewhere safe for a year wasn’t on your plans, but for the sake of not being thrown in jail for the rest of your life, you could lower your pride enough.

This time, willingly.

“Did you get them all, or?” The disagreement look you gave him was enough of an answer.

Howard was going to ask about your possible luggage, but noticed that you only had what you were wearing, the cream-colored ruffled dress from the trial. Thinking out-loud he began to make a list of needs, “I’ll have a modiste come tomorrow, also I’ll hire you a tutor so you can learn some basics” he spoke of shoes, undergarments, cooking books, he wrote everything so he wouldn’t forget.

“Sweet lord” he exhaled, gathering some thoughts, “You want…some alcohol, food?” you shook your head, “I’m not very hungry, the train got me a bit dizzy” he left the note with the file and his reading glasses on the table near the door, “Then, rest, we’ll figure stuff out in the morning” he took the empty glass off your hands, after putting it down in the sink he made his way to the stairs.

“Howard th-” he cut you off before you could finish your sentence, “Don’t even mention it, not until you are thoroughly okay” with that he disappeared upstairs, the sound of a door closing the last you heard.

---

Stay tuned.

Taglist open: @littlebluefishtail @maxlynn17

[fluentmoviequoter]

Luck Be a Lady Tonight

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: During a weekend off with your team, you run into one of the FBI's most wanted criminals. With a little luck and Deacon on your arm, you catch the criminal in a trap that places him exactly where you need him.

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, depiction of gambling/casino setting, canon-typical danger and violence

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“You look ridiculous,” you say, leaning against the wall in the hotel hallway.

“This is classic,” Street argues.

“Classic rat pack, maybe,” Tan interjects. “Heavy on the rat.”

“Alright,” Hondo says, pushing off the wall. “Street, change, or we’re going now. We aren’t going to get another weekend like this for a while.”

“He makes it sound like a bad thing,” you whisper to Deacon.

“You could’ve turned down the invitation,” he says, smiling.

“And listen to Hondo’s attempt at making me feel guilty after? That is a terrible weekend.”

Hondo calls your name, then Deacon’s, and waves for you to join the rest of your team in the elevator.

“Think I can win big at the nickel slots?” you ask.

“About as likely as Street getting any female attention in that outfit,” Tan mutters as the doors close.

Sitting at a table on the small balcony overlooking the casino, you scan the large room and locate four of your five teammates. Chris had plans with her family this weekend, so you’re the solo woman on the tip. You don’t mind; you enjoy spending time with the rest of your team, but the decision to spend the long weekend off in Palm Springs at a casino spa wasn’t your first choice.

You raise your glass, then freeze before it reaches your lips. There’s a man playing roulette who looks incredibly familiar. Lowering your glass, you watch him, observing his body language and how he speaks to the dealer. You can’t place him, so you lift your phone, putting your elbow on the table to remain inconspicuous, then take a picture of the man when he turns to order a drink. You upload the photo to the limited-access LAPD site, which returns as flagged. Only one line is legible in the scanned file, but it increases your heart rate.

“Miguel Calvo,” you whisper. Your chair slides backward as you stand, and a warm hand hovers beside your waist.

“You alright?” Deacon asks, looking at you intently.

“See the guy at the roulette table? Red jacket?” you inquire softly. Deacon nods, and you say, “That’s Miguel Calvo.”

“From the FBI’s most wanted list?”

Nodding softly, you relax as Deacon’s hand finishes the journey to your waist. He looks at you rather than watching the criminal or looking for the rest of your team. You have feelings for Deacon, not understanding how or why they started, but you feel complete beside him. You haven’t exactly hidden your admiration of him, and, on many occasions, he’s shown you he feels the same, but you haven’t crossed that line. And it looks like your relaxing weekend just turned into a chase, so you won’t get a chance to inch closer to that line.

“I have an idea,” Deacon says. “We’re out of our jurisdiction, but since he’s got a federal warrant, we should be able to make it work.”

“Tell me how I can help,” you offer, drawing Deacon’s attention back to you.

“Are you open to going undercover on our own?”

“Anything. Where do we start?”

“Well… we’re going to need a little luck.”

Your cheeks begin to hurt after the first few minutes of smiling. Between the new outfit Deacon procured for you and the flirtatious looks you’ve been sending Miguel since your return, you feel like you’re working a con. Deacon’s plan seems good enough, but it relies on you being able to get close to a man suspected of numerous felonies, including murder. He had a woman on his arm when you first noticed him, but now he’s alone and has moved from roulette to Ultimate Texas Hold ‘Em.

As you walk past the table, you hear him tell the dealer, “Lots of things worth holding here, eh?”

Dropping your smile, you look over your shoulder, hoping you convey the flirty look you’re going for. Miguel locks eyes with you before you toss your hair over your shoulder and continue walking. Exhaling slowly, you keep the deliberate sway in your hips as you exit the casino and return to the balcony. You place your hands on the railing and watch, allowing your gaze to linger on Miguel longer than anyone else in the room.

Miguel stands after winning against the dealer, buttons his jacket, and begins strolling leisurely around the slot machines. He walks past Street and Tan, none the wiser to their law enforcement ties or knowledge of who he is. When he reaches the stairs, he leaves the casino behind and walks with purpose to your side.

His hand slides around your waist, and you press your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep yourself from tensing at his touch. He tugs you once, and you laugh airily as you spread your hands over his chest, your body forced against his.

“Hi,” you say softly, tracing the edges of his jacket as you introduce yourself.

“MIggy,” he replies. “So, you’re more of an observer than a gambler?”

“I- I’m not very lucky,” you admit with a shrug. “But I like watching.”

“Well, señora suerte, let’s change that.”

He keeps his arm around you but turns you to walk with him. You feel like an accessory more than a person as you accompany him down the stairs. Street raises his hand from the machine he’s sitting at to show you he has your back. Your entire team is worthy of trust, but having Street around in this particular situation helps you breathe a little easier. Deacon is upstairs, but you’ll know when he arrives. You always do.

“What’s your favorite number?” Miguel asks, his fingers brushing dangerously low on your hip. You answer without hesitating, and he replies, “How about a little Blackjack? We’ll see how far your luck takes us.”

You stand behind Miguel, slightly to his right. The woman with him earlier stayed close to him, and when he reaches back and pulls your arm to tug you against his back, you realize it was because he wanted it. Watching over his shoulder, you raise your eyes often to locate your team.

“Room for one more?” Street asks as he approaches the table.

Miguel nods to the dealer, who steps back to deal Street in. You trace your fingers up Miguel’s back, then rest your hand against his shoulder. He leans back momentarily and kisses your jaw, making you swallow uncomfortably. Luckily, he doesn’t try anything more and returns his attention to the game.

“You said you’re unlucky,” Miguel says, spinning on his stool after another game. He holds your waist and looks up at you to ask, “What’d you have such bad luck on?”

Your eyes widen as you look over his head. He furrows his brows, and your lips part before you whisper, “Roulette. I think I got a little too comfortable betting on black.”

Miguel stands and follows your line of sight. Deacon descends the staircase, stealing the attention of men and women alike in the casino. Dressed in a black English-cut suit tailored to accentuate Deacon’s muscular build, he looks like he just walked out of a James Bond movie, and it seems you’re not the only one who thinks so. Several women walk to his side, attempting to drape themselves on his arm. He sends them the heart-stopping grin you crave to see and a polite declination.

“Roulette it is,” Miguel snaps, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You stumble slightly, then catch yourself and hold his arm as you follow him. “Sorry,” you whisper. “Do you know him?”

Miguel shakes his head. When he reaches the roulette table, he looks at you to say, “It’s not black or red. But…” He glances at Deacon in his crisp black suit and decides, “I’m thinking that you and red might be the luck I need.”

You aren’t entirely sure if he said you in red or you and red, but you are not going to give him the luck he thinks either way. Deacon stops by the table to watch Miguel roll his dice, then drags his eyes up to your face. He’s a good actor, but there’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen during cases before.

“Not bad,” Deacon applauds. “I’ve always been more of a bet on black guy myself.”

“Me too,” you agree, breathless without feigning it this time.

“It’s not that simple,” Miguel argues. He tightens his arm around your waist and adds, “Besides, I’ve got lady luck on my side tonight.”

Deacon smiles and says, “Ah, I see. And a beauty she is. Any chance you’re willing to spare her for one bet?”

Miguel’s jaw tenses as his hand presses against your side. “She should really stick with the guy she came in with, no?”

You pout and press your hand on Miguel’s chest again, looking through your lashes to ask, “You said I’m your señorita suerte. It won’t hurt, just once, right?”

He releases you with a stiff nod, and you loop one arm around Deacon’s elbow as you place your other hand on his bicep. Deacon smiles at you, and your grin grows into the genuine sign of joy Deacon has grown to expect when you see him.

“Wait,” you request after Deacon picks up the die. You lean over but hold eye contact with Deacon as you blow on them. “For luck,” you add lowly, returning to his side.

“May luck be a lady tonight,” he murmurs before rolling.

You watch as one of the dice goes directly onto the 20-black compartment. Deacon’s bicep flexes behind you as he cheers, and you lay your hand on his shoulders to kiss his cheek. As you step back, Deacon catches your waist.

“You are good luck,” he muses.

“Excuse me,” Miguel calls angrily. “I believe that was your one bet.”

“I’m going to walk around for a bit,” you say, stepping away from Deacon. “Nice job.”

Miguel’s jaw tenses as you begin wandering all over the room. He glares at Deacon, who raises his eyebrows with an easy smile.

“I’m the kind of man who makes my own luck,” Miguel says. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“No, I don’t,” Deacon replies, crossing his arms as his blazer stretches over his back. “Spell it out for me.”

Miguel presses his finger against Deacon’s chest and hisses, “I was behind the murders in the casino in Jackson, Mississippi. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Deacon blinks, then shrugs. “You should work on your intimidation tactics.”

“Poker room, me and you. Winner gets lady luck over there.”

“She’s a person, not a trophy.”

“Maybe to you.”

Deacon smiles again as he asks, “You want to play in the poker room? Let’s do it. But at least give me an idea of what I’m getting into if I were, hypothetically, to make sure I won. No cost too high.”

“The last time a dealer gave me the wrong cards, I caught him in the parking lot and put a Glock 17 in his ear. That enough hypotheticals for you?”

“It’s enough for me,” you say.

Miguel looks over his shoulder, and you wave as you hold your off-duty weapon at his back. Street and Hondo approach him from either side, but you nod to Deacon to do the honors.

“You’re under arrest. The FBI will be here in a few minutes to pick you up. Now, you can walk out with us peacefully, maintain the tiny reputation you have,” Deacon explains. He lowers his voice and leans closer to Miguel to finish, “Or I can drag you out of here and make you beg for a little more luck.”

“I vote option two,” Street mumbles, but you barely catch it as you watch Deacon.

“I’ll walk,” Miguel whispers. “And I’ll give up someone bigger than me, the man who helps me win.”

“That’s a discussion for you and the U.S. attorneys’ office,” Deacon says, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s arm. “Start walking.”

You knock on Deacon’s door, and when he opens it, he invites you in without a word.

“Thank you,” you tell him as you cross your legs beneath you in the chair beside his bed. “I couldn’t have done that without you, at least not that smoothly.”

“The feds seemed to think you could,” he says with a smile, reminding you of how many officers personally thanked you for bringing Miguel Calvo into custody.

“You called me lady luck,” you muse. “Do you think there’s room for doubt?”

Deacon walks to you, leans over, and places his hands on the arm of the chair you’re in. There are mere breaths between you, and Deacon gives you a moment to notice it as you struggle to control your breathing in the proximity, and then promises, “Not a bit.”

“Are you going to tell me where you got the dress now?” you inquire.

“Someone’s assistant was bringing it from the dry cleaners,” he answers. “But I don’t think that’s what you really want to talk about.”

You shake your head, and Deacon shifts to place one hand on the back of your head. You’ve showered and pulled your hair back simply after an afternoon with an over-the-top hairdo, and Deacon finally feels like he’s holding you again. He kisses you, lowering himself until he’s on his knee and level with you. You loop your arms over his shoulders and decide you are lucky. The man kissing you is all the proof you’ll ever need of that.

“Hey, Deac, I-“

You pull away from Deacon as Street stops talking. As you wipe your finger under your lips to fix your lip balm, Street looks between you and Deacon.

“Before you get mad, I just want to point out that you gave me a key,” Street begins.

[skay-ali]

Tears of an angel

You had a dream, a very blurry one, but the few clear memories clung firmly in your head.

A dream where no one knew you other than your mother, family and friends, you were a girl who grew up in the middle class, with a working mother, who was always there for you, even if her life was full of work, a life where you could sit in the sidewalk on a salty or cloudy day and eat an ice cream, without bothering to get dirty or eat in an unattractive way, just a happy girl enjoying her ice cream.

You could ride your bike to school with your friends, sit in the cafeteria with all your friends, who told their craziest stories or problems, the same people who listened to you afterwards and supported you.

A camera flash, and your smiling face, the yearbook photo, where all your classmates signed themselves and you did the same like a celebrity.

In your small town, the only one you knew, and where you returned after graduating and meeting a boy, with whom you joined your life. The big house they built together, with a huge patio, full of plants, from giant trees to rose bushes.

It was a dream, but it was the best one you had, seeing your mother and your little family, together at a campfire, you would never forget such a thing.

Not when your reality was a painting without colors, just a dull gray, you had no one, your mother no longer existed, you never had good friends or you don't remember them, a boy... is much further away from your possibilities.

Thousands of flashes went off, but they were no longer for yearbook photos, or for a photo album, these were to feed the hunger of men addicted to famous women and their beauty, even if they were much younger, photos for women who loved gossip and seeing the misfortunes of other women.

Your hands with ice cream, sweets or a delicious homemade dinner were replaced by tasteless or extravagant dishes, the size of a coin. Your night of picnic was replaced by a day, with a walk of shame, where many whispered.

“I knew that she murdered the man who was holding her hostage.”

“They say she looked possessed.”

“ha… I think she finally showed what a crazy psychopath she really is.”

Thousands of ridicule and criticism. While your face seemed stoic, the black glasses covering your eyes did a good job of hiding your teary eyes that were burning from shedding tears.

Go your way and don't pay attention to anyone.

“How is he not in jail?”

“surely her father paid so that she would not be arrested”

Ha... that was the only thing your father could do for all the misfortunes that carrying his last name caused you. And he didn't even do it without thinking about it, at the trial your father barely appeared, only his money and one of his best lawyers, it was lucky to have Alfred with you.

Your own father reserved his judgment, he didn't even advocate for you, maybe he knew that you were actually someone evil, maybe it was better for him not to interfere so as not to pay the price when you did the same thing again, he discovered, the disgusting monster that you were.

His stoic face without any feeling, no words, what kind of father does that, if you killed someone, you stabbed him until his last breath, but there were no fathers who were more compassionate with their children after doing more atrocious acts, you You didn't eliminate that man because you wanted to, he had you as a hostage, he was like the other men made of shadows that tormented you, he was acting violently, without control, he threatened you, you felt that he would end you, thousands of eyes looking at you without doing anything, none of those present thought of defending you, none of their eyes collided with yours, they just diverted to another place.

The only eyes you saw were those of a woman next to you, but even she couldn't help, they were pointing a gun at her.

Then you saw yourself in a glass, the woman who had the strength to save you, the one who fearlessly controlled your body, took a gun and stuck it at the man who threatened you, over and over again in his torso, who smiled, with a great joy to finally be freed and take revenge.

And after a few minutes you came back and saw your hands with a red liquid. It was her and you in turn, both of you…. And yet they classified you as a psychopath, who deserved to be locked up.

You only see her, your reflection smiling and whispering

I told you so.

You should never have stayed with your family.

They would abandon you. now look at you...

A hit from a table brought you out of your tranze.

“Because you did it, Miss Wayne,” the prosecutor looked at you, after a long interrogation in court.

You stared at her, this woman was becoming a nuisance, so maddening, because she kept adding more salt to the wound, she was very mean to you, with her look of superiority and her touch of envy.

She continued with her words and cruel questions towards you, no vague answer calmed her, she wanted to continue digging into your well-buried secrets.

For that woman who stood as if she owned the entire stand with a self-centered smile, you were guilty, a murderer, who deserved to be punished for what she did, you knew very well that she was right, you were a monster who had to pay, but You were scared, and you knew that nothing was worse punishment than being with yourself.

Your hands didn't stop shaking when you listened to her, you had to leave them in your lap so it wouldn't be noticeable, you couldn't afford to lose your temper, they would have no mercy, they would brand you as a false victim.

His words full of venom stung, they hurt you little by little, because they were exactly the truth, and his very intrusive questions were the straw that broke the camel's back.

Desperate for all his cutting words and his exhausting questions, you began to spit out everything, your secrets from the smallest to the largest, the ones that led you to commit such a crime.

“I didn't know, I was desperate, nothing stopped... they kept going, they kept targeting me like before” you spoke calmly, all the calm you could muster inside your body trying to maintain your sanity.

“no one wanted to help me, even though… when that man… did that…” you could barely breathe because of the pressure and turbulent feelings that were flooding you, you could barely formulate a complete sentence.

“Tell me, miss, what this man was supposedly doing for you to end him in such a cruel way.”

“I was doing it again like the others!!!… I didn't want to be his toy again” you shouted.

“It's not fair, that they ask for money for me, but still torture me for their fun!!!”

"and I have to keep quiet, and not say anything because the heroes saved me, everything is fine again, right? It doesn't matter what happens because I'm safe and I should be grateful"

“I had to stay silent, because after all something horrible didn't happen to me like other victims” you repeated the cruel words that were said to you after your first kidnapping, and the following times, even though you desperately wanted to confess how horrible your short stay with him was. those criminals, you got used to receiving what they gave you, staying silent in front of the vigilantes, the police and posing calmly for the news, until you got home and locked yourself in your room to suffer in silence.

“I couldn't stand it, she couldn't stand it, she was angry, so she took the gun and attacked the man without mercy, I wouldn't feel another horrible monster following me.”

“I saved myself... I did it for the first time” you smiled non-stop, even with your eyes shedding tears.

“Now judge me on that.”

You returned to your starting point, where everyone looked at you with hatred and repulsion or as a naive girl who could be used.

Hearing endless disguised insults, full of arrogance, seeing looks full of envy and contempt, seeing men trying to surpass you, gossip and news of you making you look like a spoiled girl and out of control.

You took refuge again in your lonely apartment, you stopped going out, your life would be better in a place away from everyone, where no one would hurt you anymore.

You left everyone behind and took refuge in another place. away from the looks that hurt you.

You said goodbye to the hopelessness that reigned in your life.

You confined yourself to a new city, full of thousands of people, famous, easy to get lost and not be found.

A small change of look was enough to go unrecognized. Although most of your days were spent locked in your apartment inside a huge building.

Despite your fear of going out almost always, you did it if it was to participate in some brands that invited you to their new projects, and much more for small charity events.

The letters you received of thanks from the people you helped became a part of social interaction for you.

You also helped one of your acquaintances from the psychiatric center you were in as part of your sentence, the disturbed young film director.

Appearing in your independent films was fun, plus it told people that you're still alive, but that they would no longer take advantage and use you as something they can have for their entertainment.

If being yourself, being happy and not being terrified of the people around you meant disappearing and isolating yourself, you would do it...

...........................................

somewhere else, far away from where naive little miss wayne was taking refuge.

Her family was desperately searching for her.

A video of Wayne surrounded the internet, in no time he became famous, and everyone now had a new star to love.

The family, who had forgotten or preferred not to say anything about that girl, knew that they had ruined it.

Burece Wayne accepted his mistake, one of the biggest he could have made, he left his daughter alone, without caring about the things she was experiencing, he believed that a card full of money was the only thing his daughter needed.

a girl who never caused him problems, he believed that giving her all the luxuries was enough. I never checked it, one less burden in his life, it was already something big, maintaining his appearance as a millionaire, his role as a hero and being the father of many children who needed his help, was already a lot on his plate.

His little daughter suffered so much and he was never able to help her.

He still remembers how her face showed all the pain she carried, in the middle of the court, how desperate she sounded.

Since he found out what she did at that gala, he couldn't look at her, blaming her for that big mistake she made, he never tried to understand her.

He let that little resentment he felt for that girl's mother kill him. when she understood it, when she realized her big mistake, that it was all her fault, for never having taken care of that girl, for never seeing her for more than a second, for never protecting her in the best way from criminals and leeches who wanted something. of his family. It was too late she was gone.

.............

A girl with delicate features and delicately dressed, looked at her reflection with great attention.

She had spent a long time locked up in a dark room, which was only illuminated by the dim lights of the candles and during the day by the light that came in through the room's only window.

She was serving the punishment her grandparents gave her for breaking the rules.

Even in his mind his grandmother's harsh words were still present.

"Your mother failed us and even more so when she appeared with you"

"because my beloved daughter had to go and leave us with you"

"You will never be perfect girl, you are just despicable, a living image of your father."

Although those words were common because he said them when he was taking care of you.

They became more horrible and terrifying when he got angry.... Their claws embedded themselves in your skin and punctured as deep as they could.

his screams for you to look in the mirror and the hits he gave you if you looked away.

one word sharper than the other...

Infinite tears fell from your eyes and even with that the desire to stop crying, due to a threat to maintain composure.

The reflection eventually began to change, over time, it was no longer you, it was another girl trapped in the mirror.

A smiling reflection appeared and although you knew it would bring you nothing good, at least it was company in the lonely punishment room.

[beautifulpaprika]

Rage; Jungkook

Pairing: serialkiller!fem!reader x cleaner!jungkook

Warnings: smut :), mentions of blood, mentions of murder

Summary: Y/N holds a lot of rage for men who betray her. She's killed ex-boyfriends over and over without a second thought. Her friend, Eileen, grows worried for her and resorts to bringing back her first love to get Y/N back to her senses.

Word count: 4.1k

Y/N

I press my fingers into his cold skin. His unmoving eyes look into mine and I smile. 

“Maybe you’ll think twice in hell before you stay out all night,” I tell him, dragging a nail down his stubble, “But at least you won’t be here to torture me anymore.” 

I finally stand and take out my phone, dialing Eillen’s number. My finger drags across his desk in the corner of his living room where a photo of him and I sit. I recall the memory of us going to his grandmother’s birthday and he introduced me to all his dear friends and family. Little did they know he was a sneak and a liar! 

A buzzing in my mind rackets through my head then the sound of glass shattering pulls me out of my anger and the picture frame hits the ground.

“Y/N?” Eilleen calls through the phone. 

“Eileen!” I put on a smile hearing my best friend’s voice. 

“It’s midnight. What-“

”It happened again,” I say, crouching back to my ex’s dead body. There's silence on the other side. “You know what he told me yesterday? ‘Oh, I don’t wanna go out with my friends! I’ll be so worried about you!’,” I scoff. “Well, that was a lie,” I give a small kick to the corpse, “Not a call. Or text. Or-“

”How long are you going to do this?” She asks, her voice a whisper. I think on the question, contemplating the answer and whether I should tell her the truth or what she wants. 

“Eileen, they deserve it! Every single one. Don’t forget I used this power for you too,” I argue, recalling Peter Fent. A disaster they called a man who tortured my best friend relentlessly. Even thinking about his face wants to make me vomit. 

“And you know I regret that! We shouldn’t have-“ 

“Eileen. We’ve been on the receiving end of this hurt so many times, and what happens to them? Nothing!” Tears well up in my eyes when I think of all of my past experiences in the dating world. “So, I’ll do it.”

”Aren’t you tired?” She asks. “Instead of purposely looking for those sour ones, why not find someone who can treat you well? Someone you can settle down with? You don’t have to go around playing vigilante!” 

The truth is I am tired. If he had just told me who he was going with! Or even letting me know he was okay! But he didn’t care about me and that’s clear in the fact he was ignoring me. 

“I’m going to send you an address,” I tell her matter of factly, not letting her respond or say no. “Send your guy and I’ll have his money by tomorrow.” Before she can say anything else, I press the red button, cutting her off of any noise. 

“Rest easy, my love,” I kiss my man on the forehead and wave to him as I leave. 

I wait until I’m outside and walking down the long driveway. The crickets call to me, cheering on as I swipe through the dating app. Left, left, left, right, left, right. The moon shines it’s spotlight on me, the crickets continue to cheer, and I search for my next catch. 

*** 

Jungkook

“I’m glad we get to talk in proper conversation for once,” Eileen slides in the booth across from me. She looks neither happy nor upset to see me. 

“I have to say, seeing you brings both good and bad memories,” I admit. Eileen was Y/N’s best friend. Or is? I don’t keep up too much with too many people from my past. Especially not best friends of my exes.

“I admit that I feel the same way,” she’s about to say more when a waitress walks over asking for our drinks. I take that moment to think of all the questions I have - the first being why I was invited here. 

The waitress walks away, her eyes lingering on me as she walks. 

“I need your help,” Eileen whispers, her face closer to mine from across the table. 

“Why me?”

“I think you’re the only one who can help her. She’s-” we’re interrupted again by the same waitress setting down our cokes. 

“Ready to order?” she asks.

“Just the drinks, thanks,” I say. She looks slightly disappointed and Eileen doesn’t try hiding her rolling eyes. I give her a sheepish smile and she finally walks away. 

“Nothing much has changed with you, huh?” she keeps her eyes on the back of the girl walking away. Memories of girls flirting with me while Y/N was around comes to the forefront of my mind. 

“We won’t focus on that. You said you needed help, so what is it?” I take a long sip of the carbonated drink. 

“You’ve probably already guessed this is about Y/N.” I don’t tell her that I have. “She’s been having,” she pauses, “issues,” her face winces at the word. It intrigues me enough to lean in more. “Her love life is complicated,” she laughs, “And you’re the only person I can think of where she holds no resentment towards.” 

The mention of Y/N’s love life gives me chills. The thought of her with someone else, despite it being so many years, is a punch to the gut. I imagine her eyes near- shut while she’s laughing to some other guy’s joke. I imagine her holding him tight when they’re watching a movie. I imagine the headboard hitting the wall over and over again when he-

“I know it’s weird to ask this of you,” Eileen’s voice brings me out of the infuriating images, “but if you have any interest in seeing her again, or. . . anything,” there’s a desperation to her voice and before she can say anything else - 

“Yes.” 

She’s silent for a moment. 

“You’re willing to meet her?” her jaw hangs over her drink. 

“I wanna see her again. I really do,” I add the most sincerity that I can to my voice, because if Eileen is asking for her then she must not have a partner right now. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend, right?” I double-check.

“No. No not at all. She just went through a really, really,” she gulps, “bad break-up.” That makes me worry a bit. “But she’ll be happy to see you,” her head moves up and down quickly. I start wondering what exactly it is I’m getting myself into. 

***

Y/N

It seems that Eileen has come around. I was going through many boring messages of “You showered without me?”’s and “What’s your favorite season?”’s, when my best friend’s name appeared at the top saying “I think I have the perfect man for you. One I’m certain you won’t boot into oblivion ;)”

It made my day to know Eileen isn’t as upset with me. Not only that, but she’s making my life a lot easier with setups. 

The smell of bread and garlic wafts my face when I open the door to the pizzaria. 

My phone vibrates. A message appearing from an unknown number:

This is Y/N, right? 

I’m your date tonight. <3

I went ahead and got a table for us. Let me know when you’re here. 

Hm. Nice punctuation and he’s early? Eileen should set me up more often. 

I’m here 🙂 In the blue dress.

I look around, waving off the host in the process. I don’t spot anyone making eye contact with me, that is until I look to my right where a man in a black button up and black dress pants is walking towards me. His steps slow when we make eye contact and I almost collapse to the ground. 

This is a joke. Eileen has lost her fucking mind and decided this would be funny. 

“Don’t,” I whisper. I cover my mouth when it comes out too raspy and hold a hand out to stop him. I feel the sting in my eyes and my embarrassment heightens. The smell of Italian food is gone and the fresh air and city noise drowns me. 

“Y/N,” the voice comes behind me. 

“No!” I move through people on the sidewalk looking at us.

“Y/N, stop!” 

But I don’t. 

A grip on my arm pulls me back and my back meets the hard, brick wall. People are no longer looking, most likely thinking Jungkook is not one to be messed with by the ink adorning his arms and his neck. But I already know he isn’t dangerous. 

“What was that?” his breath fans my face. 

“What did Eileen say to you, hm? That you need to fix me?” I push on his chest, but it has little to no effect on him other than making him annoyed. 

“She approached me,” he says, and I scoff, “Let me finish,” his voice is calm. “I am the one who wanted to see you. Me! I wasn’t forced. I wasn’t paid. I wanted to do this.” 

“You’re lying!”

”I’m not.” 

“Why would you want to see me? I’m the one who broke up with you. I left you. Don’t you hold any resentment?” my face starts stinging again and the tears well in my eyes at the thought of him calling me for months after I told him I didn’t want him anymore. After I lied to him.

His mouth opens and I anticipate the words “I do hate you” ready to leave him. 

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” his voice is low. I chuckle. 

”Why? Are you embarrassed?” 

“Y/N. You know I’ve never felt embarrassed about you. Not back then and not now.” I believe him. But I don’t want to. “Please, can we go somewhere?” His hand rests on my cheek so naturally. I imagine myself falling into him and going back to how we were before.

***

”This is it,” I say waving him inside my apartment. 

His head moves up, down, left, and right examining every bit and it gives me time to examine him in return. How his shoulders are broader, his hair a bit messier, and those tattoos that weren’t there before. Even the way he walks is different. He was always handsome, but now he’s ethereal. 

“Your place looks better than mine,” he laughs. Just another thing to add to the list of things that Jungkook does that makes me melt. “We already knew you’d be the better decorator,” it aches to think about the times when we talked about buying our own place or the past at all. 

The two years I had been with Jungkook were my best years. He was so attentive and I never had to worry if he was around. I only had to say something once and he was very considerate of my needs. Not a single complaint came out of his mouth and that was what one day led to my biggest worry. I started to doubt everything that he did for me because I could not uncover the why. 

He was the best boyfriend I’d ever had and yet made me so insecure because I couldn’t understand why he was being so nice. 

“You can have a seat anywhere,” I tell him. He follows me to the kitchen where a small dining table sits by the wall. ”What all has Eileen told you about me?” I ask while pouring the two cups of water. I place one in front of him and sit across the table. 

“She told me you just needed a bit of help. The rest I don’t remember ‘cause I was focused on the fact I would get to see you again,” a smirk appears on his lips. “I am not disappointed. You’re more beautiful than before,” his eyes meet mine causing my chest to constrict. I’ve been searching for this feeling of being wanted, and while my other boyfriends have given me that feeling (may they rest in peace), it only lasted for the first date. With Jungkook, it was constant. 

“You’re more handsome than ever,” his smile reaches his eyes at the compliment. A laugh escapes me.

”What?”

 “I’m just wondering what the catch is,” his head tilts, “Are you married? You’re looking for a place to stay? You have a gambling addiction and you need money? Why would you want to come back to me?” He laughs at my questions, but the image of him being married to someone else pushes me to take a sip of water at the heat boiling inside. 

“Well, the answer is none of the above. I do have a catch, though. I’m not sure how honest you want me to be.” 

“You know I want you to always be honest with me. The most you can,” I think of the liars in the past whose bodies are lying graves now. 

“I’m obsessed with you,” his tone is serious and he isn’t smiling like he was before. “I can’t touch another girl without thinking ‘What if this had been Y/N?’” My heart doesn’t seem to know what to do with this information. “You can probably already guess I’ve been searching for you for a very long time. After a while of trying to call you, I guess you changed your number and I couldn’t contact you anymore.”

I recall changing my number, not wanting to be upset every time I looked at my phone and his number would always pop up. It caused regret for weeks and I couldn’t deal with it anymore. 

“I won’t lie and say I haven’t researched much about you. When Eileen contacted me I had already been in the city,” he moves to get up from his chair and rounds the table to me. A warmth seeps from his hand to my cheek. I relax into the familiarity of his touch. “I’ve been in the city for a long time,” he leans in and I mirror him, wondering if he’s going to kiss me, but he moves to my ear instead. “Who do you think cleans up all of your messes?” 

I jerk backwards in my seat. 

“What did you just say?” I whisper. 

“You never believed me when I said I would do anything for you. I was telling the truth, Y/N. I think I’ve proven myself whenever I cleaned your spilled blood,” his words leave me speechless. My throat is dry and my tongue is heavier sitting in my mouth. The new information leaves me spinning. It’s all too quick for me to process in one day. 

“I need a minute,” I push him aside and make my way past the living room and down the hall into my bedroom. Drowsiness takes me and I lie down on the bed, resting my eyes. 

***

Light bleeds through my eyelids, eyes staring down at me. 

“Y/N? Was I boring you too much?” That deep, familiar voice says. Jungkook has a smirk painted on his face and I’m in disbelief that I took a nap! 

I pick myself up making sure I’m still in my apartment. Jungkook is unpredictable in my eyes now that he’s fessed up to everything. 

“I brought some water in case you were still feeling faint,” he picks up a bottle from the night stand with a few crackers sitting next to it. He still does the same thing that he always has when I feel sick. 

“Jungkook . . .”

“You can’t say this is crazy,” he chuckles. “You’ve killed people before. We’re practically a team already.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think I would personally know who else is involved in these shenanigans,” I feel faint again imagining him drag bodies down stairs and mopping spilled blood. 

“You mean the shenanigans you created?”

“I mean me not letting any man lie, cheat, steal, or cause any form of harm to me again. Not without paying consequences. That includes you,” I say, not sure if it is a threat when I do, but knowing I’ve set my boundary with him. Whether I truly want that boundary is up in the air. 

“And have I ever done any of that to you?” He asks the question with worry on his face rather than trying to find ways to defend himself. I can’t look him in the eye when he asks the question because I don’t have an answer that would prove him wrong. 

“You made me nervous,” I say, my voice quiet. The embarrassment is palpable. “You were always handsome and everyone around us knew it,” I finally look up at him. “I’m not saying I didn’t think I was beautiful enough for you, I mean look at me,” I gesture to myself and he laughs but nods in agreement. “But there was that one night you were talking to your friends. You made all these plans before with them, and then I heard you say ‘I’m gonna have to change everything now that I have Y/N.’ Do you remember that?” 

His eyes narrow as he thinks but it seems to click when he’s about to respond. \

“I didn’t realize how much I was holding you back until then. We were on different paths and you should have-” 

“Stop, stop, stop,” his hands wave in the air. “You never told me this,” he gets up- his arms crossing over his chest. “Why didn’t you mention this? We could have talked about it!” I notice his voice raising so I get up from the bed as well ready to defend myself. 

“You would have said it was a stupid reason! You would have told everyone how ridiculous I was being. It was better that you didn’t know,” I explain. 

“You’re right. It is ridiculous. It kills me that you didn’t think I would want a change, especially if it’s with you,” I try to come up with a response but nothing comes. “You’re killing these guys because of miscommunications and yet here you are doing it with me.” The mention of him knowing about my slaughters makes me faint again. 

“It was years ago, Jungkook. Who knows if I would have done the same thing now?” I wave him off and turn to walk out of the bedroom that feels suffocating now. Before I can step out, the door swings close and my front is pressed to the door, his is pressed to my back. 

“Communicate, Y/N,” his lips lower to my ear, kissing a spot behind it. A shiver races down my spine. 

“I don’t know what else to say,” my voice wavers and I curse myself for showing him my weakness. I feel a heat on my waist when his hand meets my waist. My head leans back when his lips move to my neck. 

“What do you want with me now?” his other hand moves to my ass. “More?” he turns me to face him and I can feel the wetness in between my legs when I’m forced to move. I’ve had sex before since Jungkook, but I haven’t felt like I was going to collapse in anticipation until now. “Or are you going to tell me to stop?” his finger slides down the middle of my chest, tracing the line of my cleavage. 

“S-” I almost tell him to stop, but I can’t. I want him. I need him. Forever. 

“Communicate,” his leg slides between mine, finally giving me some kind of friction. I rest my head back on the door and wrap my hands around his neck when he moves his leg on me. 

“I want you, Jungkook,” I’m breathless now. “Right now and for the rest - ah!” I gasp when his fingers slide the straps of my dress down and his mouth is already on my nipple. “For the rest of my life,” I manage to push out. He moans on my nipple when I pull his hair, the vibrations being another sensation muddying my brain. 

“I’ll show you what you’re getting for the rest of your life,” his knees meet the ground and I make eye contact with him as he lifts my dress. Our eyes break when his head hides under the fabric, and I can’t see anything, but feel when he kisses my thighs. He lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder, kissing the inside of my thighs now. I grow impatient and push his head. His chuckle slides against my thighs and I’m about to scold him when I feel a tongue sliding through my lips. 

“Oh God,” I  whisper. My head hits the door as I moan. His tongue swirls and sucks on me and I thank every shooting star for Jungkook and how amazing he is at making me feel good. I have missed the feeling of non-rushed sex with love and care mixed in. 

He stays under me for another minute as I indulge in the wet muscle until he peaks out of the dress and pulling it down.

When he stands, I rush to take the button off of his jeans and pull them down his legs followed by his boxers. His hand rests on my cheek as I come back up. 

The kiss he plants on me is searing. Our lips mesh perfectly into a rhythm. Both of his hands slide down to my waist then onto my ass. I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist. I hold back on grinding myself into his erection as he sits on the edge of the bed. He pulls away and pushes a hair behind my ear. 

“I want you to do something that we never did,” he whispers into my mouth. A million possibilities run through my head, my pussy aching at all of them. 

“What’s that?” I nudge my nose into his before he pulls away again by lying down. 

“Ride me,” he says. It’s a simple request but it’s one that makes my stomach drop. I’ve never been one to be on top. I always wanted my boyfriends to show me they wanted me by putting the work on. It was selfish on every level, but it helped my own self esteem. But this is Jungkook. I would do anything for him at this point. 

I don’t say anything else, only place myself onto his hard dick. I drag my wetness on him putting my hands on his still clothed chest. I drag my fingers onto the buttons and pluck every single one undone. Once I’m able to take his shirt off I drag my tongue up his chest and onto his neck. He holds my ass and grinds up into me, earning a moan into his ear. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he sighs. I’ve missed the way he sounded. 

I bring myself back up, breathless. 

“My dress,” I point out the garment still on me, getting up to take it off.

“Don’t,” he demands, grabbing my hand. “Keep it on. You look sexy as hell in it.” The compliment makes my heart soar. 

I hover over him, grabbing his dick. It slides so easily inside of me. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “You feel perfect,” he whispers. I relish the way he still holds my ass and moan out loud when I start to move. He helps by meeting me in the middle as I bounce on him. I can’t help my ego growing when he licks his lips as I move. 

I realize I’m fucked when I look at him. Literally and figuratively. He could do anything and I would never kill him. Is it the bare minimum not to kill your partner? To other people, yes.

The pace moves faster and his hand slides down, sliding a finger through me, then rubbing at my clit and that moves my body to the edge. 

“I- I think I-” 

“Let’s do it together, baby,” his pet name pushes me and I cry out when I climax. He sits up and groans into my mouth when he fills me up. We ride the high for a few more seconds before I come off of him and we lie down, wrapping ourselves into the blanket. 

I wrap an arm around his waist and kiss his cheek.

“Does this mean I won’t have to clean blood anymore?” he asks. I punch him in the chest at the tease as he laughs. 

“Very funny. But as long as you don’t break my heart then I suppose not,” I respond seriously. 

“You won’t have to worry then,” there’s a smug smirk painted on his face as I roll my eyes. 

“Oh!” I quickly rush out of bed. 

“What is it?” 

“I have to pee!” I rush to the bathroom as he laughs. I peek out the bathroom door and tell him, “I’ve missed you.” 

He smiles gently at me, his hands resting behind his head. “I’ve missed you more.” 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Safe Haven: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Summary: Something is going on with Spencer. He has been nervous and secretive ever since you two posed as a married couple. He tries to throw you off his trail by lying but he knows better than to lie to someone like you. There's not a lot that people can hide from you, but it seems like the ones closest to you hide even the deadliest of secrets.

Season Six Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

"All humanity is one undivided and indivisible family. I cannot detach myself from the wickedest soul." - Mahatma Ghandi

Spencer got up earlier than usual and came to work before you could even have your first cup of coffee. He's been a little weird lately but you chalk it up to it being his personality. You're immune to his quirks even though you love each and every one of them. Spencer is huddled with Derek in the break room, both of them looking at Spencer's phone when you walk into the bullpen. They're whispering like schoolgirls about a crush on a senior boy but you can't make out what they're saying. Spencer has wide and excited eyes and Derek has a smile on his face which gets you curious about it.

"Hey, what are you looking at?"

Derek and Spencer jump away from each other and Spencer shoves his phone into his pocket.

"Nothing." Spencer looks around frantically. "I gotta go."

"Yeah, me too."

Derek hastily runs after Spencer and you watch with narrowed eyes. Weird. You grab a second cup of coffee for the day, set your things down at your desk, and head to the briefing room. Spencer is nervously tapping his fingers on the desk as he waits for the rest of the team to come in, and you take a seat next to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Penelope walks in and hands the files out. "We have a case right now."

"Last night, all four members of the Bennett family were killed in their home in Council Bluffs, Iowa. Jake and Sandra Bennett were the parents of Sammy who was eleven and Kayla who was nine."

"Detective Beeks in the Omaha field office called me," Hotch says. "The previous night, another family, the Archers, were killed just across the state line in Nebraska. He thinks it's the same offender."

"The MO is consistent. Both mothers died due to severe blunt-force trauma, and the fathers suffered multiple stab wounds. The children were all strangled. There are signs of violence in the kids' rooms but no sexual abuse on any of the children. That's odd."

"Odd comes up right now because the Bennett father was not just stabbed, he was also..." Penelope can't finish her sentence which means it was brutal. "Those pictures are in your personal files because I didn't think they needed the help of 1080p."

You grab the file and flip through the photos, finally stopping on Jake's corpse. You gasp softly and put a hand to your mouth at the brutality of his murder.

"His chest was opened, organs disturbed, and intestines removed," Rossi says.

"That's awesome. Could we please leave the gross part of the conversation for the plane?" Penelope sighs.

"The father of the Archer family had multiple stab wounds but no dissection. He went from piquerism to this overnight?"

"Two families in two days. He's on a spree."

"Wheels up in thirty."

You get up and notice Ellie, Matt Spicer's daughter, standing with another agent on the first floor. He points to the bullpen to indicate that Derek is in the office. He and Emily go talk to Ellie while you approach Spencer who is at his desk.

"Hey, what was that before?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Derek were acting weird in the kitchen."

"I'm fine," he shrugs.

"God, is this about the marriage?" you scoff. "I thought we talked about it, Spencer. If you're not ready--"

"No, it's not about that," Spencer cuts you off. "My mom isn't doing too well. I'm just worried about her."

"Oh, okay. Is there anything I can do?"

"Not unless you want to fly there and hold her hand. Really, the nurses there can help her better than we can."

"Okay, if you're sure."

Spencer pulls you into him and kisses you.

"I am sure. I'll see you on the plane."

Ellie is going to stay with Penelope while Derek is busy with the case, but you're not sure how she got here to begin with. She's a little girl who isn't old enough to fly by herself. She is growing attached to Derek and you're not sure if that's a good thing.

"Hey, is Ellie okay?" you ask when you get on the plane.

"No," Derek says. "Hotch, listen. Garcia's gonna help me find a way to get Ellie back to LA."

"How did she get here?"

"She stole her foster mom's credit card, bought a ticket online, and then somehow lied her way through airport security."

"How old is she?"

"Nine. I didn't see this coming at all, but I will fix it."

Hotch nods and motions for the meeting to get started while the pilot takes off.

"Check this out. There are no forced entries at either house and both dinner tables were set for five people, not four."

"Maybe they knew him and invited him to dinner."

"Both families live in different states but only eight miles apart. Is it possible they knew each other?" Rossi asks.

"Garcia, did you find any overlap between the Bennett and Archer families?" Hotch asks her over video chat.

"No. They didn't work, shop, eat, or worship in any of the same places."

"Worship? Are both families religious?"

"Pretty much all their social lives revolved around some kind of church activities."

"Maybe he forced the families to make dinner as part of a ritual, like Karl Arnold," Emily states.

"The Fox was a classic family annihilator who targeted patriarchs. The dissection of the last dad makes me think the unsub was focused on male parents as well."

"I'm not so sure," Rossi argues against Derek. "There's a lot of overkill on the mothers."

"Alright, when we land, Morgan, Prentiss, and I will go get set up at the field office with Detective Beeks. Dave, you, Y/N, and Reid drive to Council Bluffs while the crime scene's still fresh."

The thing that confuses you the most in the recent crime scene is the energy surrounding it. You're hit with the trauma that happened last night so it's still fresh enough to paint a pretty picture of what the unsub did. The unsub stands in the kitchen changing the channels on the small TV on the counter. He switches them mindlessly until he gets to a music channel that he can use to drown the screams of the family out. 

He grabs a kitchen knife and makes his way up the stairs to the kids' bedroom, taunting them with a knife on the railing of the stairs. Sandra is sitting on a chair with her hands tied behind her back while Jake is lying on the floor, face down, with his hands tied behind his back, Sammy and Kayla lie in the bed both of them dead. Sandra tries to reach for something in the drawer behind her but can't get to it.

The unsub walks into the room and turns to Sandra who is crying hard. Jake says something to the unsub that gets him kicked in the face. He then starts stabbing Jake multiple times in the chest while Sandra watches helplessly from the side. You force yourself out of the vision from last night and are brought back to the present. The unsub and victims disappear but the energy still stays. The energy from the family is normal--one blue, one red, and two yellow ones. However, there is a third yellow one.

The unsub is a child.

"Family annihilators tend to kill the children first. It makes the parents suffer the most," Spencer explains when he and Rossi join you upstairs.

"Maybe that wasn't the only reason. When Mom comes up to say that dinner is ready, the first thing she sees is the children. She runs to them and opens up her back to attack. He uses the children as bait. The father arrives next. He runs to the family just as the mother did. The unsub repeats the attack."

"It worked the first time," you say. "It makes sense he would use the same ruse for the father."

"It's a risky plan. The unsub needs ten or fifteen minutes alone with the children to tie them up."

You three leave the upstairs and head to the kitchen where the table is set up for the dinner they never got to have.

"The table is set for five. They were going to have tacos. The big pot has red meat, the small one has some sort of tofu mix. Now, if a psychopath was forcing you to cook dinner, would you take the time to make vegetarian sides?"

"He obviously didn't force Sandra to make dinner. She wasn't afraid of him. He was their guest," you say.

"He's too disorganized to bring a gun. All the other items he used on the families came from within the house like kitchen knives, jump ropes, and belts. The Bennetts trusted him with their kids. They had to have known this guy."

"I think the unsub is a child," you say. "Take away the energy of the family, there's only one other one... The unsubs. It's yellow. I don't think he's a young kid but a kid nonetheless."

"It wouldn't hurt to look at that angle," Rossi says.

The ME report on Jake says he died less than a minute after being stabbed multiple times. All dissection was done postmortem. If it was done postmortem, it was probably done out of curiosity and not torture. However, the cuts were crude like how a child would dissect a frog in science class. Sandra died slowly and in a lot of pain just like Monica Archer. The wives suffer the most, physically and psychologically.

If you had to guess, this kid really hates his mother either for abandoning him or for loving a sibling more than him. It's textbook, really.

After finishing with the Bennett house, you head back to the police station with Spencer and Rossi where the rest of the team are already discussing both cases.

"Sandra was a sixth-grade teacher, she ran a church program for adult literacy and volunteered at a local soup kitchen. Monica was a nurse at Northern Omaha Medical, and she worked Pro Bono with disabled veterans at the VA."

"Maybe be posed a s victim and asked for their help," Detective Beeks says.

"It's likely these women would help a stranger but doubtful that they'd let him upstairs," Hotch says.

"It's a child." Everyone looks at you. "The only other energy left at the Bennett house was yellow which means a minor committed these crimes. I don't know how old he is but I do know he's younger than eighteen."

"What's your theory, then?" Hotch asks.

"Due to the severity of the wounds the mothers have suffered, I believe this kid has an issue with his own mother. Maybe she abandoned him or maybe she loves a sibling more than him but he hates moms. He might pose as a kid who is in need of help and gets along with the children he kills. It's literally the only way a parent would let a stranger near their child."

"It's a solid theory."

"On the off chance I'm wrong, the unsub could be another volunteer. If they met him during charity work, he could seem trustworthy. You could look into volunteers who worked with both Monica and Sandra."

"It's rare when you're wrong," Hotch says.

"Thanks, Hotch, but cover all your bases. It's what Strauss is looking for, right? She doesn't like me very much and if she sees you going off my word alone, you'll have your hands full with her."

You hate it but that's what needs to be done. You look to the right and see Derek off to the side on the phone probably with Penelope to check on Ellie. Poor girl. She lost everyone who was important to her and is now clinging to Derek because that's all she knows. Spencer walks up to Derek just as he hangs up and shows him something on his phone. Both men seem to be in a better mood by whatever is on Spencer's phone. 

You cross your arms and lean back on the wall as you observe their behavior. What the hell could they be whispering about? Why doesn't Spencer want you to know about it? It can't be about his mom. If Spencer is worried about her, then why does he have a smile on his face? Maybe you should call Diana and make sure she's alright. Someone knocks over a cup onto the ground and curses when the liquid goes everywhere, causing Derek and Spencer to look up. Both men lock eyes with you and immediately disband, walking away in opposite directions.

Weird.

x

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[musings-of-a-college-dork]

Hear me out. HEAR ME OUT.

Some angst…but like fluff idk OKAY.

Say the reader and Eddie are in the upside down and the reader gets separated from everyone and is presumed dead, but had escaped through another way. Ya know all sad etc cause eddie thinks he’s lost his soulmate, but when the fundraiser at the end of the show happens it could be he’s placing posters up of them…then BOOM reader appears and it’s all tooth rotting fluff etc

I Thought I Lost You

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Word count: roughly 1.5K

Eddie lost his partner in the Upside Down and his friends convince him to put up a Missing Person flyer.

Warnings: SEASON FOUR SPOILERS, angstyyyy but fluffy at the end, mainly just spoilers, and serious divergence from canonical plotline

Author’s note: So sorry this one took me so long to write but I love a good piece of angst melted to fluff!

The past two days had felt like years. After the world had literally cracked open many citizens of Hawkins had begun evacuating but many stayed. They stayed out of hope. Hope that those they thought were lost may come back.

Eddie was one of those such people. When he had returned along with Dustin to meet up with the rest of the group, Steve was the one who had to gently break the news that Y/N…they had gotten separated and…well...

Presumed dead. Those had been the words people had been saying about them. About everyone who had been lost. Of course, Eddie knew it made sense. Most of the people missing had to be…but Y/N… He had been inconsolable. When Steve had broken the news there had been no reaction. None. None whatsoever. He hadn’t cried or yelled or broken down. He had just gone quiet which for Eddie was scarier than any of the other things combined. He knew they couldn’t go back to find them. He knew that. And so he had simply said nothing and shut himself away in what was left of the trailer without a word to another soul.

Dustin had come by the check on him a couple of times and each time Wayne said he wasn’t eating, sleeping, or speaking - he hadn’t even had any music on. Eddie truly felt like the world was crashing down. He couldn’t explain it but it was so much worse than when his mom had died. He was young then and it was a disease. There wasn’t anything he could do about it. But here. With Y/N. You could have been with them, his mind reminded him for the thousandth time, you could have stayed with them and not let them out of your sight. You could have protected them. But you didn’t. You had to go and play hero with Dustin. And now they’re dead because of you.

On top of all of that, people were still blaming him for the murders that had happened. The police had been by several times and had asked Wayne to speak to Eddie. Wayne had explained the situation and had begged for time. The department surprisingly gave him to his request and he figured it was solely because they had so many other things going on and Eddie truly hadn’t moved since the day of the split.

When Wayne told Eddie the police had been by, he hadn’t said a word. Merely nodded to Wayne and turned his focus back to the polaroids he had of Y/N, the same ones he had been flipping through for days as if looking at their photo would bring them back. And in that moment, Wayne felt fear. Fear because he realized without his soulmate, Eddie was starting to not care what happened to him. “I lost them,” He had told Dustin when the teen had finally coaxed him into speaking at Wayne’s insistence, “I lost Y/N, and now…Dustin, they were my world. What’s the point when my life has already been lost?”

After Dustin had told Steve about Eddie’s complete collapse, Steve had talked to Robin who had somehow managed to convince Eddie to come with her and Steve and Dustin to help out at the high school where everyone had basically created a shelter. Anyone who had lost their homes, or family members, or needed food, supplies, or medical attention was there. It was the bulletin board of Missing Persons Robin mentioned that was ultimately what convinced Eddie to go. Along with his friends, he had managed to create a missing poster for Y/N, convinced that maybe, maybe if he made the poster someone would find them and they'd come back to him. His friends had been silent as they helped him, knowing the chances of them coming back from the Upside Down were…well…

But he had done it anyway and it had gotten him out of bed and that in and of itself was something to be grateful for.

The nerves had boiled up in Eddie’s stomach as they had arrived at the high school. The four of them had taken Steve’s car along with a few boxes of items to donate - sheets, clothes, toys - and the flyer for Y/N. The drive had been silent and so was the walk in. Eddie tried his best to ignore the stares he received as the group passed by, holding his head up high…well as high as he could with the sinking feeling that had taken up permanent residence in his chest.

“Hey,” Robin had whispered when she watched him get caught up in his own mind. “We’re gonna put up the poster for Y/N, drop this stuff, and then we can go-”

“No,” he shook his head, “I…I want to stay. To…help.” She had gone silent after that and Steve and Dustin didn’t protest. As they walked in though, Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes from the missing person’s board. Dustin watched as his focus totally shifted, turning his attention to Robin and Steve.

“You two go on ahead,” Dustin said with a nod. The other two teens hesitated for a moment but Dustin shooed them along as Eddie continued to stare at the board.

“You wanna go put it up?” Dustin said as he looked at the flyer Eddie was clutching in his hand.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, his voice barely audible, “But…” Dustin watched as his gaze shifted to the police officers.

“Eddie, man,” Dustin placed a hand on his DM’s shoulder, turning Eddie to face him, “You didn’t do it. You’re just gonna go over there and put up the flyer,” He still seemed unsure leading Dustin to sigh, “Here I’ll come with you. Ok?” Eddie nodded again and took a deep breath before following Dustin’s lead and heading over to the board.

“Uh hi,” Dustin greeted the officer who looked between him and Eddie for a moment but didn’t say anything, “We have a missing person poster to put up.” The officer eyed them both once more and went to say something before clearly thinking better of it.

“When did this person go missing?” The officer asked as he held his hand out for the poster. Eddie hesitated to hand it over but with some urging from Dustin, he did.

“The day of the earthquakes,” Dustin said, not quite sure what else to call them. “They were near one of the sites so…we…yeah.” The officer let out a little hum before turning his focus to the paper. His eyes narrowed as he squinted at the photo before they went wide.

“Something the matter?” Dustin asked, “Have you…do you know anything about-” The officer cut Dustin off with a point as he gestured to one of the medical stations. Dustin and Eddie both turned at the speed of light to find a figure sitting in a chair that the cop had pointed to. They were chatting with the nurse who seemed to be checking their vitals, a soft smile on their face as they seemed to make conversation. They looked worse for wear, still in the clothes they had been wearing when they went to the Upside Down. Bruises and scrapes as well as a ton of dirt littered their skin…but they were there. Dustin could watch all the blood drain out of Eddie’s face. It was like he had seen a ghost. And in Eddie’s mind, his fear was that he had.

“Y/N,” was all he said before he began to take slow steps toward the figure. They didn’t notice him as he approached but the nurse did, looking at him with a confused gaze. Y/N must have caught her glance as they turned to look and…

They had the same dumbfounded look. They took a moment to just stare at him, mouth opening and closing as he approached, step by step. This continued for a moment before they stood up on shaky legs as if they could have been blown away by the wind.

“Eddie?” They asked in a cautious tone, their voice shaking as they spoke.

“Oh my god,” he murmured before they were in his arms, holding them with everything they had in them.

“Eddie I thought-”

“But you were-”

“We lost-”

“Y/N we thought you-”

“I know but I was-”

“Where have you-”

“How is-”

The pair couldn’t form full thoughts and the nurse simply backed away to allow the pair a moment as tears brimmed in both of their eyes.

“Y/N, we thought you were…” Eddie couldn’t finish the thought as he felt Y/N squeeze him even tighter.

“I know,” they nodded as they pulled him in, “But I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

And Eddie knew they spoke the truth at that moment. He knew whatever came next was going to be a hard battle. The fight to prove his innocence wasn’t going to be easy. But with them by his side, his life and his soulmate restored, for the first time since Chrissy’s death, he thought he may have a fighting chance.

And she's done! Again so sorry this took so long but I hope it's sorta what you were looking for!!!!

[bateman-whore]

Hiiii, I was wondering if you could write a fic where Patrick sees someone get a little too close to reader and murders him? 🔪🩸🫶

You belong with me

(Sorry for the Taylor Swift reference, Im not a swifty but it’s one of the few songs I can stand and I didn’t know what to title this lol, TW: murder, Patrick being Patrick)

Your pov

I sat at my desk, mindlessly typing away at my computer. I wanted nothing more than to get the day over with but the minute passed like hours. As I attempt to finish the paragraph, I hear a knock on my office door.

“Yep” I called out as the door opened, it was Paul.

“Hey y/n, how are you doing?” He asked, taking a seat in front of me.

“Meh, I just want to go home. It’s been a long day,” I laughed with my face in my hands.

“Oh I hear ya,” he says, flashing a grin, his teeth seemed a little too big for his mouth. “Now I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out tonight?” The question was accompanied by another big tooth grin.

“Listen, I would love to but-“ I was cut off.

“Oh come on like you have anything to do after work, pick you up at seven, yeah?” It wasn’t a question. He got up and started for the door.

“Paul I-“

“See ya!” And with that he closed the door behind him.

Before I could process what just happened, there was another knock on the door.

“Yep,” I called out again but instead of Paul, Patrick walked in. He sat down across from me and put his feet up on my desk. “Yes?”

“You and Allen seem to be getting close?” This was more of a statement rather than a question.

“I mean I guess, what does it matter to you?”

“It doesn’t,” he said plainly and got up and left my office.

Patrick’s POV

I don’t know why but it does matter to me. For some reason I can’t live with the thought of Paul being so close to y/n,

“Hey Paul,” I leaned up against his cubicle walls, I took note of them, “nice set up you got there.” I picked up what seemed to be a family photo and examined it.

“Uh thanks I guess,” he took the photo out of my hands and placed it face down on his desk.

“God I can’t remember the last time I sat in a cubicle let alone worked in one,” I let out a laugh.

“What do you want?”

“I was wondering if you could stop by my place-“

“Nu uh uh uh, can’t. I got a date with y/n tonight,” he interrupted.

God he really has a problem with interrupting

“Yeah yeah, I’m sure you do, look it’s about your report, there’s something I need you to change.”

“Why can’t we talk about it right now?” He asked, confused.

“Because how can we discuss work matters without a drink or two?”

“I guess, as long as you make it fast,” he finally gave in.

Later that night, there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, it was Paul.

“Ah Paul come in, come in,” I stepped aside to let him in.

“Thanks for inviting me, but really we have to make it fast. I’m supposed to pick up y/n in 45 minutes,” he walked in taking his coat off, “are you renovating?” He asked taking note of the plastic sheets that cover every part of my living room.

“Sure. Can I get you a drink Paul? You look like an old fashion kind of guy.”

“Uh sure.”

I walked to the kitchen and poured him his drink, but before I went back to the living room, I crushed up a handful of downers and dissolved them in his drink.

“Do you like Huey Lewis and The News?” I asked him.

“There ok i guess,” he replied, taking a drink.

“Their early work was a little too new wave for my tastes, but when Sports came out in '83, I think they really came into their own, commercially and artistically. The whole album has a clear, crisp sound, and a new sheen of consummate professionalism that really gives the songs a big boost. He's been compared to Elvis Costello, but I think Huey has a far more bitter, cynical sense of humor.” I started to ramble as I popped a CD in the player.

“Hey Halberstram.” I could tell Paul’s speech was beginning to slur. The drugs were taking effect.

“Yes Allen?”

“Why are there copies of the style section all over the place, d-do you have a dog? A little chow or something?”

“No, Allen.” I was in the kitchen at this point pulling on a raincoat. My ax was hidden behind the door frame.

“Is that a raincoat?” Allen laughed.

“ Yes it is! In '87, Huey released this, Fore, their most accomplished album. I think their undisputed masterpiece is "Hip to be Square", a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should, because it's not just about the pleasures of conformity, and the importance of trends, it's also a personal statement about the band itself,” I took the ax and walked up behind Allen. I raised it above my head, “Hey Paul!”

He looked behind him at me as the ax came crashing down into his face. Blood splattered all over my face and body.

“TRY TAKING Y/N ON A DATE NOW, YOU FUCKING STUPID BASTARD! YOU, FUCKING BASTARD!”

I caught my breath and regained my composure. I cleaned up the scene, took a shower, did my skin care, and went to bed.

Part 2??? I’ll probably do a part two. Sorry if it’s not entirely accurate yk, I need to rewatch the movie. If you have a request my inbox is open and as always the gif and divider are not mine.

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