#look up 'siren' on my profile lol

[anarchy-and-piglins]

"Get in!"

There wasn't much Techno could do about being dragged out of his tub and onto the wooden floor of the ship. He'd been in shallow water too long and he barely got a chance to get his bearings before Wilbur was hauling him up and shoving him into a big clay pot.

The guy wasn't much taller than Techno, certainly not stronger. If Techno had been a human and not a siren with a really flexible spine and a tail that could bend double, he wouldn't have fit. As it was the pot was a snug fit, but it was filled with water and probably prepared exactly for an emergency such as this. When Wilbur closed the top, the darkness almost resembled one of the caves Techno used to nest in. He could look out of a crack at the top, right above the water level. And he could tell why the pirates that took him wanted to hide him in a hurry.

Somebody else had boarded the ship.

Techno heard Tommy talking to them on the deck, voice pitched a little higher than it should. He heard Phil drag his boots. The ship swayed slowly, as if held still in the water. Wilbur had left to join them.

And in his haste, he had forgotten to reactivate the enchantment on Techno's choker.

He hummed, the sound light and pleasant. His throat hurt, but hearing his own voice was like music to his ears. The water in the tub swirled around him, answering his song.

The door to the room opened. Techno peered out.

He could see the person who had entered from the waist down, but he recognized it wasn't somebody he knew. It wasn't Phil or Wilbur or Tommy. It was one of the people who had boarded.

Another pirate, going by their clothes.

Techno licked his lips, tasting the salt from the water that Wilbur had used to fill the pot. He could entrance this human. He could use them to get out.

"You find anything?" A second man asked as he stepped into the room. He was dragging a net behind him, with razor-sharp metal links between the ropes. Techno had seen that before, a small adjustment made to a net to make it better at catching sirens.

In his other hand, he was holding a harpoon gun.

The scars along Techno's back seemed to twinge with phantom pain. He sunk back into the water and held his tongue.

(He would not trade the frying pan for the fire)

Wilbur snuck up behind the two and took them out easily, rapier staining red with their blood. For what he lacked in physical strength, he made up for in skill with a sword. Techno waited for him to be done before he popped the lid of the pot and stuck his chest out of the opening. Wilbur looked at him, smiling crookedly.

"That's what happened to people who think they can take what's ours," Wilbur said, kicking at one of the dead man's legs.

Techno opened his mouth - maybe to respond or make a joke. Maybe to entrance Wilbur. He had forgotten to activate the choker and he hadn't even noticed.

Then a shadow moved in the open doorway.

"Wilbur!"

There was a split second of wide-eyed shock on Wilbur's face at hearing him speak before the warning registered. Wilbur turned around just in time to take care of the third guy sneaking up on him. He exhaled the remains of surprise. Techno's vocal cords ached. He took another breath.

This was the best chance he would get.

Phil's hand closed over his mouth before he could utter another word, smothering a disgruntled yell from Techno.

"Nice try, mate." The captain laughed, quickly using his other hand to touch the choker and activate it again. Techno wanted to whine in frustration. He also wanted to bite Phil, but he let go before Techno could. "You're too clever for your own good."

Not clever enough to remember there was another door to this room, Techno thought bitterly.

"He wasn't going to-" Wilbur started, but Phil threw him a look.

"We'll talk about that later, clean the bodies up first," the captain said. "And put him back in the tub before he gets any more bright ideas. We can't let something so precious get away from us."

The way he looked at Techno almost made him regret that he didn't take his chance.

[rumplereids]

hii!! i’ve read some of your docs and they are just awesome !!

i wanted to ask you if you could write a fic (paring Spencer x fem!Reader) about the BAU chasing the unsub and they manage to catch him, tough he did fire some shots that didn’t hurt anyone except reader but reader doesn’t realise it until she starts to feel dizzy and feels her shirt wet only to find a gun wound on her side, spencer is really worried etc etc.. you know an hurt/comfort !! :3

sorry for my bad english 😞😞

take your time !! :33

tags: spencer reid x fem!reader. hurt/comfort. reader gets shot. blood. reader using sexual jokes as a coping mechanism. a/n: unedited! set around season 12, bcos i just rewatched the s11 finale lol. i also took some creative liberties but i hope u still like this :) masterlist. requests are open !

There’s something Spencer always did before the team goes out to take down an unsub.

First, in the car, in the calm before a probable storm, he would take two fingers into the collar of your bulletproof vest. He’d tug on the back, checking the tightness of the straps while confined in the SUV’s backseat. And then, the same hand would run down your back. A comforting gesture that grounds him more than he’d admit. And lastly, he’d take your hand in his. Squeeze it three times in a silent ‘I love you’. He’ll wait for you to squeeze back, and your eyes would meet for a second, words unneeded as your gaze tells each other to take care.

It’s a routine done even before you officially got together. Tonight was different.

You were on the way back to the station after re-interviewing a witness with Rossi. You’re sat on the passenger seat, notepad in hand, attempting to arrange your thoughts on the case. A ringtone coming from the car speaker distracts you from your musings. Rossi reaches over to accept the call.

“Yeah, Hotch?”

“We found him. Garcia sent the location to your cells. You’re 20 minutes away from the address, but do not engage. Keep your distance and wait for the rest of us.” Hotch drops the call after you reply with an “On it, boss.” You flip a switch on the console, turning on the sirens.

“I still hate how loud these things are,” you make a passing comment.

Rossi spares you a glance, a bemused look in his eyes, “I haven’t gotten used to it either.”

You turn to reach for your vest behind the passenger seat. After putting it on, you triple check the straps. And then, you unholster your standard issue pistol, thumb on the catch, before you check your mag.

Rossi’s turning the corner while you holster your gun, reaching over, you turn off the siren. Based on the profile, this unsub will not hesitate to draw guns if met with law enforcement. Best not give him a heads up. A few blocks ahead, you see the bright neon sign of the motel the unsub is hiding in. Rossi shifts the SUV into a slow crawl. He stops a block away, a safe distance that still gave you a good vantage point of the motel. You keep a lookout, Rossi putting on his vest while your eyes pass over each entrance, exit, and window on the two-storey building. You notice movement on the first floor. A shadow behind a curtain on the second floor.

You’re starting to get antsy when the rest of the team, and the local cops arrive. You quickly open your door, walking toward where Hotch, Tara, and Spencer were huddled by the trunk of a precinct car.

“Are you attempting to negotiate?” Rossi asks from your side. Spencer’s eyes meet yours from where he’s hunched over a map. Embedding the floorplan into his mind. You watch his eyes rake over your body twice. Eyes running to each strap on your vest. Your heart warms at the gesture.

“He has hostages,” Hotch’s voice breaks your eye contact with Spencer. The sheriff walks toward your team, a megaphone in hand. Hotch thanks the sheriff, turns on the speaker, and begins to call out for the unsub.

“Bryan Masen! FBI! Come out with your hands above your head!”

You see the shadow shift on the second floor. And then, a loud bang. Bryan Masen has an assault rifle, shooting out of the windows of the motel lobby, while a second unsub shoots their own rifle from the second floor. In all the chaos of gunshots and screams, your mind rotates through three things; Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Is Spencer okay? A partner wasn’t in the profile. My ribs hurt. Where’s Spenc—

The following silence was deafening.

And then, a group of uniforms led by Hotch and JJ move in on the motel. You begin to stand, intending to join the second group of uniforms with Luke and Rossi. Subconsciously, your hand presses against your side. It’s warm. And wet. You take one step forward. Hear Spencer call out your name. And then, it all turns black.

Spencer’s hands won’t stop shaking. He stares at it. The red on his palms. It’s drying, and all he can do is stare blankly at it. His knee jerks. It won’t stop. He feels a hand on his shoulder. Heavy. Comforting. Unwanted. He hears Luke ask him if he needed anything. He can’t hear his own reply. Hunched over his bloodied hands, he sees the boots peeking between his fingers. Black. Leather. Heeled. JJ tries to get him to wash his hands. He feels hands guide him to a sink. That same hand on his shoulder leaving when smaller hands take his in their own. The water is cold between his fingers. The hand scrubbing his knuckles is warm. He can’t afford to look away. Can’t risk his eyes closing for more than a blink. He needed to be distracted by something. Knowing that if mind was preoccupied by any other menial thing, he won’t be forced to see your body falling onto the sandy ground. Over and over. The scream in his throat. The thud. The frantic hands. Red, red, red. Pale lips and eyes closed. Over and over.

He has half a mind to stop JJ from cleaning his hands. But then, the faucet turns off. Paper towels are pressed into his hands, and JJ guides him back to where the rest of the team are waiting. Their silence tells him that there hasn’t been anything new. He falls into a chair. Numbers. Statistics. That can help him focus on something else.

The number of GSWs treated per biennium increased from 1,349 in 1996-1997 to 1,484 in 2014-2015, with a 59% increase occurring from 2010-2011 to 2014-2015. Overall mortality was 14.6%—

An unfamiliar name calls out your name.

He stands before anyone else can react. Like a wolf descending on a prey, he begins a barrage of questions; “Where is she? Is she okay? Is she ali—”

“She alive and well. The shrapnel missed any major arteries, and we were able to take every fragment out. Major bruising around her ribs. She’s currently sedated, but you can come and see her.”

Spencer bites back an attempt to snap, wanting to raise his voice and demand that they bring him to her already. But he doubts you’d let him get away with such a behavior. And so he silently follows after the doctor, fists pressed against his sides, thumb popping a knuckle.

When he enters your room, it’s dimly lit. But he can see your face, and the bruise on your cheek from when you fell unconscious. His eyes take you in, every inch of you. The hair pulled behind your ears. The medical gown covering pallor skin. The tube connected to the crook of your elbow. He reaches a hand out, smoothing your hair, before taking a deep breath in. He remembers your comment about the smell of hospitals.

“I’ll stay with her,” he mumbles. Two fingers pushing down the collar of your hospital gown. You don’t like it when your clothes bunch up around your neck. His fingers subconsciously move to trace the side of your throat. Moving to feel the beat of your pulse beneath his fingertips.

“I’ll bring your bags back in an hour,” he nods once to acknowledge JJ’s words.

“Thank you,” he coughs away the lump in his throat. You’re alive. You’ll be awake in a few hours. You can go home by the end of the week. He forces himself to feel optimistic.

“Get some rest if you can, Reid,” Hotch speaks from where he’s standing nearest to the door.

He nods, opting not to say anything. Unable to make promises.

Your eyes are heavy when you come to. You can feel the crust on your lids. The cool of the AC against your cheek. Slowly, you open your eyes. There’s a painting of a grassy field on the wall in front of you. You turn your head. Spencer has his socked feet up on the armchair. Curling into himself to fit better. He has his focus on your copy of Pride and Prejudice. You can tell it’s yours by the sticky tabs peeking between the pages.

“Spence?” your voice is throaty and hoarse. Struggling to crawl out. He still hears it, anyway.

“Oh, baby,” he drops your book on the chair, moving to sit by your side. His forehead presses against yours, his hands cup your jaw. Spencer presses a kiss on the apple of your cheek.

“You scared me,” he confesses with a whisper.

“I’m okay now,” you bring a hand into his hair. He moves his kisses down to your jaw.

“I was so afraid of losing you.”

You take his kisses as he freely gives them. He hides his face into your neck, kissing where it meets your shoulder. You move your hand down to scratch where his hair ends before his nape. “You could never get rid of me,” you say with a small smile. He presses a kiss where your neck meets your ear.

Right hand on your cheek, left hand going down to grip the flesh below your scapula. Slender thumb and finger pinching the softness behind your armpit. He breathes in the scent of you. Your hand starts to massage the muscle where his neck and shoulder meet. You know that he feels heavy there whenever he gets stressed out. You want to crack a joke at how tense he is, but keep it in and choose to give him comfort instead.

“I love you,” his lips whisper against your skin.

You sigh, the sound making him look up to meet your eyes.

“I was so scared too,” it was your turn to confess.

“You’re okay. We’re both okay,” he moves his hands to take yours into his. You squeeze his hands thrice.

“I asked Hotch to give me time off while you’re on medical leave.”

“You did?”

He squeezes your hand back. Three times like you both always have, and always will.

“I also had to call your family,”

He watches you grimace, “How did they take it?” He gives you a slight wince of a smile.

You let out a sigh, “I’ll call them in a bit.”

“Your mom is taking a flight to Washington,” he informs you.

“That sucks. We won’t have the house to ourselves for at least a month.”

He raises a brow at you, “Why would it matter? You’re not allowed any strenuous activity for three.”

You give Spencer a little pout, chastised that he easily called you out, “That’s just mean.”

He gives you a withering look, “Behave.” He gives you one more kiss on the cheek, moving to stand from your bed. He has to tell the team you’re awake. Taking your phone from the end table, he begins to draft a text.

“I still have my hands, you know.”

He turns to you, caught off guard. Disbelief painting his features.

“You did not just say that,” he says.

You stick a tongue out.

“Stop it. You’re injured,” he says with a slight reprimand.

“So? That didn’t stop us when your knee got shot.”

His mouth falls open, “I can’t believe you.”

“Three months is just a recommendation. You would know.”

You grin at the blush that takes over his face.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna please feel free to send an ask to be added to my general taglist!

[sommerregenjuniluft]

heyyy lovely!!! so i was casually stalking your account and i saw you mentioned a pandalily cannibalxdetective fic called “these lips that left some scars” and it sounds insane in a way only the best things are. i was just wondering, with no intention of pressure, if you could give a little bit of a sneak peak of what more the fic could entail in the future?

p.s i am obsessed with the way you’ve set up your profile

hii hello!<3

first of all, thank you so much that’s so sweet of you!! :,

so, funny thing is,, this was actually planned as a oneshot for part of a series i had in mind. the series being sapphic ships in all sorts of different scenarios where one might die and get eaten (other examples being siren x pirate, or vampire x human) buuut, it kinda ran away from me, ideas wise and so i’d like it to have more chapters. still won’t be anything big i think, i’m just gonna throw out estimated less than 25k words because i suck at planning/outlining fic and coming up with plot lol (but we’re all here to improve so who knows *shrugs*)

basically the babes constantly cross paths (because pandora arranges for it to happen, aka continuing her silly little murder spree and letting herself get caught, but with no evidence) and lily is a little deranged and falls prey to pandora’s charm and they end up indulging their fucked up fantasies together in the most romantic way<3 or maybe pandora does end up eating lily. i really dont know yet i’m only the writer, they do shit of their own accords,,,,

as for sneak peaks >:))

Oh, and the pain. The noises they make in pain.

Every other sound that’s coming out of Lily’s larynx is already irritatingly beautiful and exhaustingly enticing. Pandora isn’t sure she wouldn’t come undone in the presence of Lily groaning and panting in pain. Oh, maybe she’s a whimperer.

aand…

Oh, but Lily.

Lily is different though. From the other detectives and uniformed officers. Lily looks.

The first time Lily came onto one of Pandora’s crime scenes she’s pretty sure she fell in love with her.

She hadn’t realized immediately, the glint in Lily’s eyes and not in person, of course, but Xeno has their ways of hacking into security cameras and getting their hands onto whatever footage or information they want—alas Pandora having sent rather explicit death threats, graphic in both the death threat as well as the things she’s going to do to Lily right next to their corpse, to Lily’s bumble matches only a few weeks prior.

i’ve already posted about them some time where Pandora was getting felt up homoerotically pat down for weapons professionally but that’s probably lost somewhere on my blog since i didn’t tag it siigghh

i’m v busy at the moment but this made me really want to write them again, i will fight tooth and nail (my family) to get away for a few hours tonight and pick this back up!!

**also Xeno is Pandora’s aroace nonbinary partner in gay crime, they are very much platonic with each other and live in a symbiotic (no one gets hurt if Pandora gets what she wants in the next 5 seconds) relationship :))

****also im very sorry for taking so long to respond, there are demons (my toddler brothers) dragging me around all day in their fierce clutches keeping me from the vital ways of life (blogging on tumblr) <3

[hughungrybear]

Me watching Laws of Attraction Ep. 7:

1. The show is trying to fool the audience into thinking that Charn will somehow betray Tin. Well, as an expert watcher of Asian dramas, they certainly can't fool me 😂😂😂 I have seen this type of plot in too many lakorns lol

2. Oh, so that's what happened. Baby girl, you should have kept quiet or played along with Thattep until you have reached safety 😭😭😭

3. Okay, now it makes sense why he needed Tanthai to take the fall. But, why didn't he thought of making up a story that it was carjacked? After all, that's the story they ended up with the dead gardener. There was no need to involve Tanthai at all 🤬🤬🤬🤬

4. I guess this episode aims to answer all the questions 😂 I was actually wondering how they knew about the doll.

5. WAAAAAAAIIIIIT UUUUUPPPPP!!!!! I did not missed a single episode. How come Thee and Tan ended up shirtless and snuggling together in bed??? How the eff did that happened and how did I missed it? 😭😭😭😭

6. Oh, look. It's Wit. Why are you angry at Charn? He wasn't the one who fired you. The fvck.

7. At this point, I'm beginning to believe that Charn is bulletproof 😂😂😂😂

8. I thought it was Charn's old lover stalking him. Also, pretty convenient that the boy has a police siren for a ring tone 😅😅😅

9. I do hope that when Charn started his revenge on the village, only the rotten ones were left since the boy revealed that the good ones were also killed.

10. All of that (future) heartache for a can of coffee 😭😭😭😭

11. Oooh, are we meeting the "haunted and horny night" Navin, at last? <after fifteen seconds and the misspelt name tattoo 😂😂😂> Oooof. I smell jealousy 🎶🎶🎶

12. TWENTY???? TWENTY EXES??? Charn, you slut 😂😂😂😂

13. Well, at least Tin is much smarter than the haunted and horny night Navin lol. Oooof and better in bed too (according to Charn lol)

14. Why are you talking like you are about to die, Charn? Why do I feel like Charn's deal with Navin is to leave Tin with the latter to protect while Charn sacrifices himself to Thattep???

15. <after 5 seconds> Handcuffs. I don't think Charn is in the mood for some BDSM. 😑😑😑

16. Oh. My. God. Tan, you dumbass. Why did you post your sweet moments with Thee in IG???? At the very least, you should have set your profile in private 😭😭😭

17. Wait, Tan is really his son? I thought Tanthai was adopted. But then again, Thattep is also stupid. Your beloved wife died for that son, you think your wife is going to forgive you for abusing Tan? The fvck. Well, at least Thattep didn't killed Thee yet.

18. Oooh. Navin is pretty efficient. He managed to catch Wit lol. However, the new Charn forgives him. Lucky Wit. Otherwise, I don't think Navin will show mercy - the man is kinda mental 😅😅

19. Navin just plunges the dagger right into Tin's heart. 😔😔😔

20. This series is really shaped like the most traditional Thai lakorn 😐😐😐😐 Only difference is that the leads are gay 😅

Can't believe I'm almost at the finish line. Still, I don't know how Navin can keep Tin for two days. Also, why two days???

[justamethyst3]

A usually quiet whale of noble status. He met Rui and Mafuyu through Emu after their lessons when they were young. There was a rough start between the four of them, though Toya soon became a welcomed regular member of their friend group.

He doesn’t have much free time to hang out, though he definitely is available more often than Emu is.

He switches between spending his free time with Rui and the others, and An and Kohane at Ken’s cafe. He would go explore shipwrecks with the others, but his dad banned him from continuing to do so when he returned home late one night in a messy condition.

Toya’s dad is strict about his siren training, and pushes Toya to work on his song at any minute he can. Though, similarly to Mizuki, Toya hates the training and would rather do something else, or find some other use for his singing.

He won’t say so out loud, but the others know that Toya would like to look into other ‘singing careers’, something along the lines of performing with An and Kohane, if he could. He just hasn’t had the opportunity, or time, to do so yet.

.

Akito colored rock? … Yes XD

As funny as it would be for Akito to be a rock in this AU, he isn’t, unfortunately 😔

But Emu found that rock while exploring, and her first thought was to give it to Toya, who she thought would appreciate it, so she gave it to him when they met up next. He treats it kinda like a lucky rock, and keeps it in his pocket or his coin pouch at all times.

As for Toya’s species, I chose a gray whale!

Gray whales typically go closer to shore than other whales, and considering the whole siren-in-training thing, and the kingdom not being super super far from shore, I felt that it fit best.

Plus, I want more muted color palettes for the sea folks’ clothes, since they wouldn’t find vibrant colored clothing, or the colors would dull with a bit of use, so I felt grays/whites and muted blues would work best hehe

I did kind of give up on drawing his tail properly for his side profile, cause it was really awkward to draw the fins sideways (even with a reference, and I couldn’t copy what I did for Mizuki’s tail cause Toya’s fins are different), and I felt that was the best I was able to do, so don’t mind the awkwardness of it ehe

Ummm… I think that’s everything…? I don’t have as much to say about Toya as I did Mizuki 😅

Next up should actually be Mafuyu this time, and then Emu and Tsukasa, or Tsukasa and Emu… Gotta decide which order to do them, though I might go with who shows up next according to my plans… which would be Kasa… Gives me more time to think over Emu’s design if Kasa’s after Mafuyu lol

.

time : 9 hr 12 min

.

Pls don’t repost/reuse/edit

[cherrymoonxx]

Hello! I hope you're doing well 💕 I'd love to participate in your free Muse reading! My hobbies are reading and learning languages. I'm currently learning Chinese. Thank you 💗

~ M.M 🍓

Hey there! That’s awesome! What other languages do you know?

Hmm so when I was connecting to your energy I was reminded of a lot of different things. On one hand, I got a lot of fairytale/fantasy vibes with like fairies and mermaids/sirens. On the other hand, I was reminded of Morticia and Gomez from the Addams family. The energy felt a bit scattered so it made me think that you could be the type of person that is interested in many things. Maybe you’re the type of person that has multiple hobbies and likes to try out different things.

So I’m not gonna lie, I had some trouble pinning your energy down. I feel like there were a lot of images coming to mind. Maybe things are hectic in your life right now or maybe you’re naturally just an energetic person idk lol. Or maybe it’s just me 🥲(I’m so sorry). But anyway, for the reading, I think your artist will be someone that is big on giving back. I feel like this is someone that may be an environmentalist, or just someone that is passionate about protecting the environment. I think they’re also passionate about protecting sea life in general. I’m seeing that they’d often do volunteer work, but on the side, they work on their own art. Their art consists of powerful pieces that each have a message to convey. Their artwork is tied to their passion for protecting the earth and a portion of the proceeds they earn from their work will go towards charities and the organizations they volunteer for. They could also be very active on social media and have a growing number of followers who support their environmental activism.

Okay I know this isn’t like a typical artist but I kept getting the vibe of someone dedicated to activism so that’s how the scenario came about. For your scenario, I actually think you’d hear about this person online first. Like maybe you’re scrolling through instagram, or some other social media platform, and you come across their profile. Curious, you start to look through their profile. You see how outspoken they are and you’re actually kinda impressed. You look at the posts about their artwork and you feel inspired. You see how much passion and dedication they possess and it sort of ignites a desire within yourself. You find yourself researching more about ways to volunteer to help out within your community because of this person. I think there could be one particular volunteer event you attend that was actually organized by your artist and this is where you guys meet. You notice them first and you actually get a bit flustered because damn they’re actually really attractive. In their social media, they don’t post too many pictures of themselves so you’re caught off guard a bit. Unfortunately, because there’s a lot of people at the volunteer event, I think they don’t actually notice you. I feel like it’d be at least two or three more events you attend before they actually notice you. I think you’d end up volunteering multiple times and they’d eventually notice that you’ve attended repeatedly. One day they’d strike up a conversation with you and tell you that they noticed you’ve been a frequent volunteer and they wanted to thank you for your time and efforts. And you get all blushy but I don’t think they pay too much mind initially. I think they really start to pay attention later on. It would happen one day when you start to voice your ideas about other volunteer opportunities and you start to take more leadership. They’d notice your initiative and they’d be impressed by you. They’d find themselves paying more attention to you and your ideas and over time, they’d realize that they have started to like you.

I think certain things you do and say may inspire their artwork. It’s a bit slower paced because I think they’re the type of person that is too immersed in their work to be in a relationship, but I do think that they’d end up falling head over heels for you. For so long they’ve only felt passionate about their work but with you, they’ve learned to care for another in a way they never have before. they see you as an intelligent, kind, determined individual. They admire your curiosity and your desire to learn more. They like your thirst for knowledge and your own passion for your goals. To them, you are refreshing because you are so genuine in your actions. They may have encountered others that only do things to make themselves look good and not because they actually care, but you have shown your empathetic nature and they absolutely love this about you. I think because most of their artwork is activism based, they may not depict you directly in their art but they would always make sure to include you in their dedication. You encourage them to continue their work and together you guys create something really worthwhile.

That’s all im seeing for you. Sorry if it’s not exactly what you expected! This reading took a different approach on the type of artist but I hope you liked it!

Also, thank you for your patience and thank you for participating!

Take care 💓

[soulwillower]

if you’re too shy • richie tozier

(richie tozier x cam girl!reader smut)

[based off the song if you’re too shy (let me know) by the 1975.]

requested: i can't find it lol BUT 🤍anon (i think) requested a fic based off of the 1975′s new song, if you’re too shy let me know !!

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, switch!richie kinda, smut, unprotected sex, a tiny bit of cumplay i guess, mentions of phone sex, oral sex (female receiving), face sitting, a bit of dirty talking, UNEDITED as always

also i wrote this in a different style than usual and idk if i like it much but u can let me know what u guys think,, if its weird i can go in and change the povs since its 3rd person richie

[losers + reader are 21+ in this.]

7.4k words lol

♡

i see her online all the time i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

"h-hey, man, who's that?" the voice from right next to richie makes him damn near leap out of his seat. it makes beverly chuckle a bit as she takes a bite of her apple, shaking her head. "it’s nobody." richie says quickly as he tilts his phone towards his chest and shoots a toothy grin to bill. his friend raises his full eyebrows, "wh-what, so n-nobody was sending you n-nudes?"

"something like that." richie mutters, stomach fluttering as the image flashes in his mind’s eye - the curves, the dark red lace, the plush skin painting a perfect scene in richie’s vivid imagination.

richie looks back down at the photo. his his thumbs hover over the profile picture; he'd found her originally on his instagram explore page, the photos teasing and immediately he had to know more. y/n.

and then a few days later, he'd subscribed to her only fans, which he never quite thought he'd do with anyone, but he couldn't help it. she was so enticing, so perfect and so alluring. it was the playfulness that pulled him in; and he swears he's never lusted after somebody like he has with her. it was kind of starting to freak him out.

"is that o-onlyfans?" bill says and richie shoves bill's nosy face off his shoulder with a panicked grunt. "fuck off, mushmouth."

bill laughs and stan and bev perk up from across the table, staring at the two, interests suddenly piqued. "did you subscribe to a girl's onlyfans, rich?" stan says with a grin, setting his pen down on his notebook. 

richie just smirks and wiggles his brows a bit, enough to confirm his question. bill chuckles from next to richie.

"let me see." bev says, wiggling her manicured nails in a "gimme" motion. richie hands his phone over with red cheeks. normally he wouldn't care about his friends discovering he's paid money just to see a hot chick's bod, but this was different. for some reason, he felt connected to her. god, that thought made him want to slam his head against a brick wall. she doesn't even know him,  for all he knows she could live in the middle of.... montana, or like, ohio.

bev whistles and stan nods, "if i looked like that," bev mumbles as she tosses richie's phone back towards him, "i'd do that too. mad props."

noises of agreement fill the table but richie's just looking at the small smirk that peeks from the corner of one of the photos and he can't help but wonder what her eyes are like in real life. he wishes he could meet her.

girl of your dreams, you know what i mean there's something 'bout her stare that makes you nervous and you say things that you don't mean

it's a cold day when bill and richie find themselves stumbling in to the coffee shop for a drink. bill's muttering about some girl in his creative writing class that gave him head when richie's eyes catch a figure so familiar yet foreign that he stops dead in his tracks. bill turns to him, face confused. "r-richie, what's wrong w-with you?"

richie shakes his head, stammering in disbelief, "that-that's her, bill. the girl, from onlyfans. y/n." he whispers, gesturing with his eyes towards the girl working the register.

bill’s jaw goes slack, green eyes raking over her form and igniting richie’s stomach with boiling rage. as if bill’s doing something that only richie is allowed to do – as if they're not both being total creeps.

“h-holy sh-shit. she’s b-beautiful.” bill mumbles. richie elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare that prompts an eye-roll from his auburn haired friend.

richie swallows and watches, his throat feeling like sandpaper as she laughs at something the customer in front of them said. bill nudges richie, "i-i'm gonna get a s-seat. t-talk to her."

he winks and grins as he walks away, leaving richie with his reckless self. he thinks he's sweating through his sweater as he walks up, finding himself face-to-face with her. "hi, how can i help you?" she asks, giving him a smile

holyshitholyshitholyshit.

he might've just came right then and there. okay, he's gotta say something cool, something smooth. don't be a dumbass, tozier. 

"howdy, sugar. i'll have my coffee like i like my women." his mouth blurts as his brain sirens go off, PUT ON THE BRAKES, RICH – "a hot shock to the lap.”

she glares at him, cheeks light pink and eyebrows pulled together in annoyance and yep, richie's probably going to get hard because of that look but he's also probably going to toss his body off a bridge because what the fuck, tozier?

he can hear bill laughing quietly from a ways away and he quickly shakes his head, muttering quietly, "jail. jail, richard."

"funny." she deadpans, clearly not amused. because of course she isn't.

"sorry, i'll have a black coffee, y/n." he mutters, eyes widening to himself when he realizes she was not wearing a goddamn name tag and he just said her name.

this is a disaster. she gives him a bewildered, slightly creeped out look and if richie wasn't panicking, he'd gape at how she still managed to be effortlessly gorgeous even now.

he sighs, shaking his head, the door of the cafe opening and blowing a gust of frigid air through the warm room. fitting - douche chill. 

"look, toots, i don't want this to be weird. i- um, i recognize you." he says, cheeks aflame. she raises a brow, face straight for a few moments, unsure what he means.

it's not long after when recognition flashes over her own face - must have ruled out coffee shop, university and her local gym - and she nods with a tight, almost uncomfortable smile. 

he tries not to think of the livestream he watched last night where she showed all her new gifts and modeled lingerie, and how he’d spent his time to himself with his left hand immediately after watching. his cheeks are red with shame. 

"okay." is all she says, writing down a scribbled order on the coffee cup. her eyes shoot back up and give richie a once-over that really makes his fingers itch - god, why did he have to be this way? 

he almost runs his fingers through his curls but decides against it, eyes opting to focus on her own gorgeous eyes as they meet him. "i'm impressed i have a fan who looks like you, i must say. even if you are a complete jack ass." she purrs and his jaw nearly smacks the floor at its velocity as it flies open.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asks then with a small grin, flattered at the tiniest of compliments that just barely, in his mind, eclipsed the insult that he so very much deserved.

"i'm saying you're kind of a dick. it's too bad, because you're real cute." she says casually, handing him his change. his stomach flips and butterflies release in his chest, a feeling that he's not felt in almost five years.

but damn, of course he messed up - he got the chance to talk to the hottest girl on earth and he started it by saying an awful joke that wasn't funny at all. of course she though he was a dick, he is one.

he's shocked, though, as he waits for his coffee with bill, who is still snickering into his hand every few moments, to find his coffee cup with extra sharpie scribbled on the white paper. a name.

y/n. and below it is a phone number with a small heart scribbled, and richie can't tell if it's a seven or a one but he figures he'd try every phone number in the damn state if it meant he could fucking text her. holy fuck.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking if you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

he didn't text her for two days and three hours. yes, he counted it. no, he won't think about why he was obsessing over the numbers - but since the time he'd finally had found the courage to text her today, things have escalated proficiently. 

she'd just mentioned how hot it was in her apartment since her heater had gone haywire - even though the winter winds were cold, she'd claimed she was burning up in what she was wearing.

and the mere mention of her clothing had sent richie into somewhat of a spiral, spending at least seven minutes glued to his phone and scrolling through the saved album he had of those photos of her that she'd posted; his sweatpants getting increasingly tight and his palm suddenly aching to slip through the fabric and find some release.

but, in true trashmouth fashion, he apparently needed that sweet, sweet rejection from a hot cam girl he'd somehow weaseled into getting the number of in order to wank off properly, so he types out a text and hits send immediately.

what are you wearing?

and then he almost vomits in embarrassment – what was she going to think? did he just royally fuck up? oh god, he’s going to have to shave his head and move to canada.

his phone buzzes and he nearly passes out when he lays his eyes upon the image attached – there her body is again, curvy and full and beautiful, her skin glowing in the fading light of what he assumes is her bedroom. and with it:

this. what are you wearing, rich?

and then he pulls his gaze from his phone and stands, breathing heavily because holy shit.

he's gotten nudes before, but.... none from someone like her. holy shit.

he walks to his bathroom, splashing water on his beet-red cheeks. he swallows, staring at himself in the mirror. fuck.

he slaps his cheek once, then winking at himself in attempt to muster any sliver of confidence. and then he snaps a picture, only in his boxers.

and then he has to physically refrain from making a joke about wearing the same lingerie set as her, instead sending a flirty text that he knows any other woman would blush at. he just doesn’t know with y/n, and maybe that’s why he loves it so much. she's keeping him on his toes.

you like what you see?

he sends that one afterwards, shaking his head because oh my god, she's going to respond with "no" and then bill him $40 for the nude she sent him. not that he wouldn't pay, but...

his phone dings and he nearly breaks an ankle running to his desk. 

yeah, i do. but maybe i'd like you better without any clothes on.

he almost yells out loud at this, but he has a feeling that waking up stan in the middle of the night would not be optimal after their 'roommate agreement' they'd made that explicitly states richie cannot scream between 1am - 9am. so instead he smirks to himself, face turning red.

he's getting harder by the moment, and as he stares at that picture she'd sent earlier, he lets out a breathy groan. the lace....

we could face time yk

or we don't have to.

he reads her words in live time, watching the thought bubble appear again and watching it like a hawk. he can just imagine her sitting there with a small smirk as another text comes in and he almost groans as his dick twitches.

like, if you're too shy or something ;)

he stares at the screen for two seconds at that sinful photo she'd sent just before those texts and then sighs, shaking his head and pressing the green face-time call button.

i've been wearing nothing every time i call you and i'm starting to feel weird about it sometimes it's better if you think about it this time, i think i'm gonna drink through it

three days later, richie was undeniably and unequivocally drunk. but, as he's just explained about three times to mike, he knows that it is just easier to not think right, especially about her, right now - and the best way to do that is by getting so piss drunk that even if he tried to "hit her line," as he so eloquently put it, his dick would be too whiskey'd out to make a full appearance.

it's for the best. mike had fake gagged at richie’s cadence with a laugh, but richie was dead serious because he was starting to think he had a real issue.

it was obviously just a fun thing to do between two near-strangers, but he'd found that he was starting to almost pavlov-style condition himself into getting turned on every time the name y/n came across his recent texts or face times, and it was getting to be too much.

especially when her post notification popped up and he cracked a fatty in the middle of his econ lecture. christ, the point of elasticity of markers in the u.s. was not something he pictured when he usually had to quell a pitch in his tent. so yeah, it's too much.

because yes, he loves her fucking body and wants nothing more than her, but in truth he longs for the feeling of her skin against his; to touch her, to kiss her, to make her his. all the time.

but yet, it was just a good way to get off without all the strings and ribbons and yarn and whatever the fuck her soft-looking knit bra is made from attached.

so much for not thinking about her.

but i see her online (and don't think that i should be calling) all the time (i just wanted a happy ending) and i'm pretending i don't care about her stare while she's giving me a tough time

it’s noon the next day and he's laying in (for some reason) stan's bed instead of his own with a blinding, mind-splitting headache and an insatiable craving for a cheeseburger, eyes squinting in lust and something akin to shame as he watches the livestream y/n had just started. she’s in a slip – a very thin, silk and see through slip and it makes him more frustrated than he’s willing to admit.

as he stares at her smooth skin and wonders how it'd be to touch it all, her eyes catch something in the chat and she smiles coyly. "hi, rich." she purrs and richie almost chokes - holy shit, she saw him join.

"do you like my gift i just got?" she asks coyly, snapping the straps of her bra with a small smile and he stiffens almost instantly, thinking of how many times he'd seen her skin in videos and photos that were just for him.

how she'd moaned his name two nights ago on face time, her fingers buried inside herself slightly off-camera. and oh, how he wishes he could see all of her, but they'd not crossed that line yet - anything they'd done hadn't been yet proven visually, only from facial expressions, noises, and the brutal honestly of being together through face time.

he wants her so fucking bad, he needs her like he needs water to drink and air to breathe and it's murdering him as he watches her react to the chat of her livestream, playing with the hem of her black lace panties.

god, he needs a cold shower or something if he's going to get anything done today.

and then he's calling her an a few hours after her stream ends because he just can't wait - he feels his stomach twist with shame as he realizes he should not be doing such a certainly a terrible idea. but she answers after three rings. "richie." her siren voice purrs and he literally feels himself fall deeper into the pit.

"hi there, toots. got any coffee in the pot for me?" he asks, sounding surprisingly eloquent compared to how she normally makes him feel. 

she hums in fake thought, and it makes richie grin. she's fucking adorable. "come to the shop, i have my break in ten." and then she hangs up. he sighs, rubbing his face with his hand as he shakes his head. he's utterly fucked.

he's there in record time, a smirk plastered on his face as he walks in and sees her sitting at a table, lookin' all pretty. just for him.

"what made you think of calling?" she says in loo of a greeting. he sits across from her and wills his eyes to meet hers. "nothin' toots." he says with a half shrug, taking a sip of the coffee placed in front of him that has the the name 'dick' written on it in her handwriting. he rolls his eyes affectionately.

"oh, so it wasn't anything to do with my livestream this morning?" she asks with a look, eyeing him. her eyes are swimmable, they hold so many stories and secrets and maybe richie's just hungover, but he's feeling very flustered.

"we-w, uh, no. what... what are you talking about?" he rolls his eyes at himself inwardly, cursing stuttering bill and his contagious speech patterns. "-i don't know what you're talking about, sugar." he recovers fairly smoothly, if he may toot his own horn. and honestly, he can pretend not to care as long as he doesn't look into that goddamn stare of hers.

he chuckles awkwardly, cheeks aflame as she stares at him with a bored look and a small hum. she still looks perfect and he's even more nervous now, because oh god, oh fuck, he's gonna get slapped in the face by y/n.

it was pretty unspoken since they'd started doing... stuff... that richie probably still watched her content online, but she'd never fully addressed it until today during the livestream in front of a thousand others. 

he's choking on his spit in shame but then a smile splits her face and richie's sure he's suffocated on his own saliva and gone to a sinner's heaven. or maybe hell.

"oh, richie, i'm just teasing you. look at your face!" she says with an airy laugh, pinching his cheeks and making him want to shrivel up as he turns even redder. what the fuck? "-so cute. alright, i've got to get back to work. i'll see you around, rich." she says with a wink, taking her coffee and tossing it into the trash bin as she stalks towards the employee back room.

he gapes as he watches her leave and then gets up and makes his way to the exit, clutching the coffee like it was trying to jump out of his grasp and make a run for it. god, she's too much.

"maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i'm not playing with you, baby i think that you should give it a go" she said, "maybe i would like you better if you took off your clothes i wanna see, and stop thinking If you're too shy, then let me too shy, then let me know"

"-babe, you'll have to try harder than that." richie says with a chuckle, watching his phone screen as the beautiful girl on face time gives him a sly, challenging look. she's in a green lace bra, one richie's not seen yet and he can feel himself stiffen as she absently trails her fingers over her chest.

they'd been much closer over the last week since he last saw her in person, enough so that in the three-is weeks of knowing her, he's positive he's head over ass for her in a way that he shouldn't be. and yet, she still comes back every time, still texts him and answers those face time calls. he's baffled, honestly.

"i know you hate me because i'm right." he adds, not even totally remembering what point he's trying to prove as y/n shifts back a bit and more of her body is revealed, her hair glowing dimly in the soft lighting of her room. his eyes run over her curves, her full thighs and stomach and hips that fill over her panties and he almost groans.

"whatever, maybe i'd like you better if you took off your clothes." she says coyly. and richie's half flattered, as usual, but the more he thinks of it the more deflated he feels. he kind of thought they were growing something more than just getting each other off over face time like horny fifteen year olds. he grins nonetheless.

"you say that a lot, you know." richie says breathlessly as he stares at her. she tilts her head ever so slightly and grins, biting her lip as her eyes move around her screen with a conflicted look. "-why?" he adds.

she hums again.

"well. okay, so there's the visual world - like, the internet, onlyfans, instagram- it tells us that everything is amazing. and we should want everything. and it makes us yearn for everything that we don’t have and everything that’s unobtainable. you know, love, a relationship beyond physical. and even physical, it's different when it's online."

her words confuse him much more than they aid him. "you think... that because of the internet, love is unattainable?" he asks with furrowed brows, unsure how somebody so perfect and, quite frankly, lovable, would think that.

"it is for me." she says it with a small sense of forlorning but mostly it's whispered. enough that richie's heart skips a beat and he's, for the first time, not having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face instead of her body.

"what?" he asks dumbly. she just laughs, shaking her head and he stares at her on his tiny phone screen in the dark.

"that’s something that, you know. in real life, person to person, it has a lot of connotations of... trust and vulnerability and connection. doing what i do- and what we're doing… on the internet - it has the opposite of those connotations. like, before you, i didn't- i didn't really do this, i just was selling stuff. because guys don't want to fuck the girl who sells her body online. and you know now, i want to..." she trails off and richie doesn't dare interrupt her because he thinks she's about to say something he's wanted to tell her for a while now.

"i don't know, i guess. exploring someone's body in physical presence isn't seen at all as voyeuristic, or anything apart from...like, an intimate exchange." she says it casually, brushing hair from her face and shit, richie's swooning. he's in fucking love, he knows it, because y/n is so smart and intelligent and he's so fucking trashed for her. as she speaks, her hands move and distract him slightly from her body, doused in blue light from the screen and splayed out for him and only him on her phone camera.

the soft lace on her hips and chest make his body stiffen and it causes him to suppress a groan as she sighs, but richie knows he can’t screenshot this heavenly sight because she’ll definitely notice and she can probably already tell he’s having a hard time not staring at her alluring figure as she talks.

"-whereas, you know. as soon as it happens on the internet, it becomes kinky and cam-girly. and, you know, that's fine. i love doing it. it's just, i'm not sure where the authentic communication even is now. or if i get to have a happy ending." she says and he finally sees her blush for the first time.

he wishes he was there with her, he wishes that he could touch the redness on her cheeks and caress her curvy body and taste her skin on his tongue. he wants to feel himself inside her, he wants to be with her and kiss her lips and yet he can't, so he sighs and shifts in his position, moving to turn up the brightness of his phone so he can see better.

"shouldn't you get to be the one to decide that, doll?" is all he adds. because he feels kind of lost and just as confused as y/n is with this.

he's starting to feel weird about it, because... is this authentic? what makes things like hookups or whatever the hell they've been doing authentic? shouldn't this be easy? it's just phone sex, phone sex with a really hot girl.

a girl who is complex and alive and full of sincerity and richie is definitely falling harder than he should.

she just sighs but makes no other comment. and then they just stare at each other, richie's face illuminated in his dark room by the phone's reflection.

well, i found a motel it looked like the bins i think there'd been a murder so we couldn't get in i need to get back i've gotta see the girl on the screen

"come over and watch a movie with me." he says into the phone, biting his lip. the silence from the other end of the line is deafening as she makes her decision, because they both know she's not about to come over just to watch the shining or psycho. 

they've never done that before, and richie knows if she does come over, then whatever they have will crash down in a fiery mess. and he hates how excited that makes him as he waits in silence for her to drop the ball. so to speak.

"okay." she says, sounding shocked herself, and richie can't contain the excited grin from eclipsing his face. "yeah?" he asks breathlessly, and she's quiet for a little longer. "yeah. text me your address." 

she hangs up after that, and richie's thumbs shake as he types his address and sprints out to where stan, mike, ben, and bill are playing video games in he and stan's living room, wheezing at all of them to get out because someone fucking unbelievable is about to walk through that door.

she's there about an hour later, cheeks flushed when richie opens his door, looking just as nervous and flustered. "hi, chee." she says breathlessly, staring up at him with those goddamn eyes, the eyes that pulled him in the first time. his stomach flips in affection at her nickname and he offers her a drink as she takes in his shitty apartment. he wonders briefly if stan ended up buying that rosé that he'd given him shit for considering, and then prays that stan will stay the night elsewhere.

she's already pouring out glasses of wine when he snaps back to reality, and he grins at her, mumbling in thanks as she passes him a glass that's certainly poured almost to the brim.

"what are we watching, then?" she asks coyly, lifting a brow at him. his cheeks are red, but he tugs her arm down the hall towards his room with a grin, their wine sloshing from their glasses as they move erratically.

"we're watching psycho, y/n/n." he says as he pulls her into his room, glancing back to see she's already swallowed down almost half her glass, a lipstick stain on the side of it. faintly he knows stan will be frustrated if richie doesn't clean that off, but he's more distracted by her lips.

"i like psycho." she says with a nod and a cheeky grin, "the whole 'voyeuristic gaze' thing with hitchcock." she mumbles, and richie recalls faintly learning about that in one of his film classes freshman year and he grins as he takes a hefty gulp of his rosé, figuring he's already given himself away and if she's going to do that, he can too.

he hums, setting down his glass and grabbing hers to set it besides his on the bedside table. he turns around, intending on grabbing his laptop so they could watch the film, but she's so much closer that he'd expected and her hands fall onto his shoulders and he almost shits himself.

unpleasant, but honest. just richie's style.

"can i try something?" she asks with a grin, and richie nods, knowing that she could do anything to him and he'd gladly let it happen and most likely pay out of pocket for the damages afterwards.

and then she's pulling him from her grip on his shoulders, her lips sliding against his and making him grip her hips. his mind almost explodes at with y/n-sensory-overload because he feels her everywhere - on his lips, against his hands, on his shoulders, and pressing against his front.

her lips taste like chamomile and rosé.

she thinks his lips taste like vanilla and cigarette smoke, just as she'd always imagined. he feels so real, pressed against her lips and his body against hers, and she sighs as her tongue slips into his mouth because god, she's needed him for so long. and now she has him.

his hands move, touching every inch of her as their tongues fight for dominance. she pulls back, smirking as she gently pushes him onto his mattress, sliding onto his lap smoothly afterwards, grinding her hips against his slowly.

the moan he emits is heavenly and she could cry because she finally gets to hear it in person and not through the crackling static frequency of the phone.

so she grinds down on him again, eager to feel all of him. he's hardening against her core and she whimpers into his mouth in need as his fingers slip under her top, rubbing circles on her bare skin and making her shiver. she's noticed to this gentleness; it was rare when she did get to enjoy the comfort of another body with her own, and when she did they were hardly half as loving or caring as him.

she's desperate now, she needs to feel him inside her after all these weeks of teasing and waiting, so her hand snakes down to palm him through his sweats. he lets out a small groan into her mouth, biting her lip as he pulls back slightly. their eyes meet and his are hooded with lust, lips parted as she pumps him slowly from outside his sweats. his hips buck up lightly into her palm and she smiles gently, kissing him slowly.

"let me make you feel good, y/n." he mutters, eyes pleading as he stares up at her. her stomach flutters with butterflies and she nods, shocked that he wants to pleasure her.

he gently pulls her off his lap until she's laying on his mattress and he stares down at her, biting his lip as he takes her in. he can't fucking believe she's really here. she slowly pulls off her top, leaving her in her bra and jeans as she stares up at him with a wry, seductive smile. then she unzips her jeans and slides them off, leaving her in his favorite set of hers - black, lacy, and revealing. she looks utterly stunning and he groans, his hands falling to run over the skin, tracing the lace on her breasts. her cheeks are red as she gazes up at him.

"touch me, richie." she orders and he almost groans as he drags his lips over the valley of her breasts, sucking on the soft flesh and admiring the splashes of budding purple and pink that he's created. her heartbeat is quick under his fingertips and he moves to unclip her bra, kissing her skin as the fabric falls away.

she's slightly cold in his room, and goosebumps appear over her flesh as richie leans to catch a nipple in her mouth, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud. she lets out a quiet whine that has richie rutting into the mattress next to her, his fingers trailing down to dance at the waistline of her underwear.

and then he's pulling aside her panties, his fingers running up and down her slick folds and making her jump in lust. he can't wait, just like her, and he's rubbing her clit teasingly as she pleads, "chee, please."  her eyes are eyes closed in bliss as his finger slips inside her, crooking slightly as he moves it. he presses his lips to the skin of her breast, pumping his finger and then soon adding another, crooking them both in a way that makes her let out guttural moans of pleasure. he marks her breasts with littered pink and red marks, smiling to himself at her figure.

she can't help but swoon as she watches him, his hair in his face slightly until she brushes it back, his fingers curling inside her and making her gasp, pleasure coursing through her body. his thumb softly comes up to rub her neglected clit and she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, the pleasure almost too much.

she's honestly slightly shocked - knowing richie as little as she really does outside of the literal booty calls at two in the morning and the accumulative forty five minutes they'd spent in person, she'd expected him to be... well, good. just good. because there's no way someone so funny, caring, and smart could also be that good in the sheets.

but right now, he's making her see goddamn stars.

"i've been wanting to touch you for so long, sugar." he mutters, eyes raking over her figure as her breath comes in stuttering gasps. she watches him with blown-wide eyes as his demeanor changes right before her, making her fall apart at his fingertips.

"that feel good, honey?" he asks, smirking as she whimpers, clenching around his fingers. "yes, god you feel so good." she utters, making him groan in approval from where he's sat back, watching her face contort in pleasure. she lets out another moan and richie stares at her body, watching his fingers as they fuck into her. he can't take it, then.

"will you sit on my face, doll?" he blurts, and she nearly yelps out as his fingers leave her. it's abrupt, but she's started to notice that this is how he operates - impulsivity is his second nature. and she loves it.

her face burns as she nods, the thought of richie under her making her whimper with anticipation. "yes, richie, please." she moans out again and he's grinning, laying back on the mattress with a wink. "c'mere, need to taste that pretty little pussy." he mutters and she feels herself clench around nothing, desperate for him as she swings a leg around to straddle his head.

immediately, his hands wrap around her thighs, thumbs smoothing over her stretch marks as he stares up at her, eyes glinting with desire. slowly, his finger pulls the seat of her lace panties to the side and his breath hits her bare, throbbing pussy, making her breath hitch. she cards her fingers through his hair and lowers herself slightly, gasping in shock as his tongue darts out to lick a bold stripe up from her entrance to her clit.

"chee," she moans out, tightening her grip in his hair and sending a groan through his body that reverberates and makes her shiver. his lips attach to her clit and fiery pleasure snakes through her body making her legs shake, a moan escaping her lips immediately. he sucks lightly before releasing to swirl his tongue, her moans making richie impossibly harder through his sweats.

"so good, rich." she mutters and he groans, tongue spreading her wet folds and slowly prodding at her entrance, dipping in slowly before pulling out, teasing her.

she can't help but grind down slightly, making richie grip her tightly, tongue sliding into her again and making her yelp. "you taste so good, baby." he mutters lowly before slowly reattaching himself to her heat, her eyes rolling slightly at the sensation as he fucks his tongue into her. one of his hands snakes up to her ass, gripping it tightly and then slapping it, the stinging pleasure making her buck her hips against him, emitting a hiss from her.

"rich, i-" she cuts herself off with a sharp gasp, the pleasure from richie's mouth making it increasingly harder to speak. her toes curl and her head tilts back as his tongue flicks over her clit, teeth grazing it slightly and making her buck.

she's embarrassingly close already, and judging by the way richie's smirking under her, he can tell. "please, please." she mutters, hips rocking on him as his tongue swirls, nipping softly at her clit and making her cry out. "please, make me cum, 'chee." she mutters and his tongue moves quicker, hand slapping her ass again.

and then she's clenching her thighs on either side of him and grinding down as she hits her peak, moaning quietly as she shakes in pleasure on top of him. he rides through her high, lapping at her and pulling away with a grin as she moans his name dejectedly. she's worn out from the best orgasm she's ever had and he gently nudges her so he slides in between her thighs, her back now on the mattress. he kisses her cheek and she keens quietly.

"fuck me, richie." she mutters, eyes still closed. his eyes snap to hers, surprised at the dominance in her voice after how she was two seconds ago.

he moans quietly, kissing her deeply as he ruts against her and relishes in the feeling. he's pulling off his sweats and boxers in record time and then he's pumping himself as he grips her hips, turning her so she's on her stomach, ass propped up slightly. his hand runs over the smooth skin of her ass, snapping the elastic of her panties and making her moan quietly.

then he's lining up her hips with his, pulling aside the lacy seat of her underwear to press against her entrance. he waits a moment as he leans to press a soft kiss to her spine, slowly easing into her. she moans loudly as he eases in, her face pressing against the pillows. she smiles as she smells the scent she'd just recently come to know as his, his cock stretching her and filling her up fully as he buries himself to the hilt inside her.

"so tight, sugar." he mutters and she whimpers, getting antsy as she adjusts to his size. "richie, please, need it so bad." she mutters, bucking her hips back against him in need.

"say that again." he mutters, sounding strangled, and she grins into the sheets. "please fuck me, richie. need it so bad, need to feel you ruin me." she whimpers, chest fluttering in anticipation. his hands grip her hips as he pulls out of her slowly, almost as slowly as he entered, before stopping almost all the way out. she moans loudly in pleasure as he pushes back in, snapping his hips against hers and filling her completely.

she briefly thanks god that his roommate seemed to be out for the night as she moans his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

he sets a brutal pace, his cock thick as it fills her up and makes her toes curl. he pushes her hair away from her neck and presses kisses to it as he hits a spot inside her that makes her scream his name. his fingers move to pinch her nipples, rolling them as he fucks into her.

she's completely blissed out at the feeling of him inside her, so glad that he invited her over and that they finally get to touch each other. "rich, oh my god." she emits, eyes squinted shut in complete pleasure.

"fuck, toots, takin' me so well, aren't you?" he asks, hands kneading her ass before slapping her right ass cheek harshly, making her arch her back. at the new angle they both let out a groan and richie knows he'll fucking cum too soon if they stay like this, so without warning he pulls out completely.

y/n whines, breathing heavily as his hands come to flip her around. now on her back, they make eye contact and she bites her lip, pulling him in for a searing kiss that knocks the wind out of both of them. images of richie in his room alone, snaps and late-night face times play through her mind as he grips her and slides her hips down towards him on the mattress and lines himself to her again, pulling her legs up so they're against his chest before pushing in.

he gives no time to adjust to this angle and it makes her moan loudly as he hits a spot deep inside her that pulls her closer and closer to her second orgasm.

his name leaves her cherry lips like a mantra and he can't stop staring at her as he fucks her into the mattress - the way her tits bounce with his brutal pace, the way her face is twisted in pleasure, the way she clenches and spasms around his cock.

one hand grips her breast, rubbing her nipple with his thumb and forefinger as he kisses her again, addicted to her taste as he feels himself coming closer and closer to the edge.

"chee, fuck, right there." she moans out and he groans in pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him making his hips stutter. he keeps his thrusts up, though, as her fingernails rake down his back leaving small trails of burning pleasure in their wake.

her skin is covered with a sheen line of sweat as she looks up at him, hair wild and lips kiss-bruised. "god, don't stop, 'm gonna cum." she mutters and he snaps his hips harder, eager to make her cum so hard all she can think of is his name.

he moves a hand down to rub at her clit and he moans into her neck as she clenches hard around him, her hips bucking spastically. he can tell she's about to cum, and after a hard thrust, she does for the second time, spasming around him and sending waves of pleasure up his body. she's moaning his name, pulling him closer in bliss as she becomes sensitive and god damn it, she's so fucking beautiful.

"please cum, richie." she whispers against his lips, "please."  and then at her will, he's spilling into her, hips stuttering as he pushes as deep into her as he can, loving how she clenches in sensitivity around him. he stays inside her for a moment as they breathe, coming down from their highs and eyes closed as they take in what just happened.

"holy shit." he says because yeah, that's like all he can say right now because he just got to fuck y/n and she's kissing his fucking collarbones right now and its making him blush and his heart flutter.

"that was...incredible." she whispers against his skin and he can feel her smile against his skin. it makes him feel all soft inside as he pulls out of her and flops next to her, kissing her forehead.

his fingers flutter over her sensitive core, smiling as he sees how wrecked she is, some cum dripping down her leg. he then soothes over the lace panties, patting her lightly and kissing her red cheek.

"rich?" she asks, making him look up at her. he hums in question, pushing some of her hair back. "can we still watch the movie?"

his heart swells and he grins, kissing her softly. "of course, doll. you're too cute." he says with a wink, making her roll her eyes. he hands her his shirt and then pulls sweats on himself, mumbling "stay here" and padding out to the kitchen to get her water and snacks,  then returning minutes later to see her holding his phone in her clutch with a smirk.

"what're you doing?" he asks with a smile, but she shakes her head, making grabby hands for him and the snacks. so he laughs, cuddling up with the girl of his dreams and watching a flick, falling sleep with tangled limbs and a lipstick-stained neck.

and after she leaves the next morning with a kiss and a wink, he checks his phone and smirks to himself as he notices the lock screen she'd apparently made last night while he was making snacks.

a photo of her in his bed, wearing his shirt, a soft smirk on her face, neck littered in budding hickeys and a hand between her thighs next to her black lace panties.

god, she's going to be the absolute death of him.

//tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @emnotm @moon-shine-baby @toziershmozier @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @beauregard-s@finnskindofwoman  @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss \\

[hotchnershottie]

Hurt

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader

Summary: Reader gets a good stab, Hotch worry

Word Count: 1.2k

Author’s Note: i’ve been looking for something to occupy my time recently and i figured that tumblr could use some more hotch ;) also if the ending is totally garbage, i’m sorry i’m new to this lol

Warning(s): mention of blood

“We need to catch this son of a bitch,” Morgan seethed, ”We’re so close.” This case had been especially tolling, it had been over a week since the B.A.U. agreed to take over and the unsub had slipped through the teams’ fingers more times than they could count. At this point, 6 young women had been brutally murdered by a delusional, stab-happy lowlife.

“We just need something to draw him out,” You spoke, “Like bait.” The team turn their heads toward you, interests piqued.

“Y/n does fit the unsub’s ‘type.’“ Reid pointed out, “Maybe if we use her we could finally catch him — ” 

“Absolutely not.” Looking up from the table you saw Hotch, brows furrowed in that well-known ‘I’m angry’ face. “I will not put Y/n in harm’s way just to close a case!”

“But if we don’t, more innocent women will lose their lives to this asshole! C’mon Hotch please, just let me do this. I’m a big girl, I can handle myself,” You looked at him, pleading with your eyes. He hated when you did that, made him feel dizzy. He just wanted to protect you, and maybe even more than that if you’d let him —

“Hotch?” 

As if being broken out of a trance, he shook his head and sighed. “Fine, but we do it on my terms or not at all. Do you all understand?” Everyone nods, a few mumbling “yes sir” as they left the room, heading for the car.

__________ 

“Alright, you’re going to leave the bar from the rear and wait in the alley until the unsub approaches.  Reid and I will be in the van across the street, Hotch and Morgan will be standing by the entrance watching for anybody who fits the profile. Remember, you’re wired so we’ll be with you the whole time, okay?” Emily had her hands on your shoulders, attempting to provide a sense of calm for you.

“Thanks, Em. I got it, let’s catch this bastard.” You said, a grin playing at your features. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Hotch staring at you and for a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw his face soften into a look of concern. However, that must’ve been your hopeful imagination playing tricks on you because when you turned to face him, he was grimacing as usual. You wondered what you’d have to do to be the one that makes him smile someday. 

A stern voice interrupted your inconvenient daydreaming. “Y/n, are you even listening to me? It’s imperative that you pay attention.” Looking up you saw none other than Aaron Hotchner, his soft brown eyes burning into your own. God, did you love those eyes —

“What? Y-yes sir, I’m listening.” You stuttered, the intensity of his gaze throwing you off. 

“I need you to stick to the plan exactly. Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, okay?” You nodded. “Good. Now please be careful out there, Y/n.” This whole situation was visibly bothering him, so you grabbed his hand as reassurance.

“I’ll be okay, Hotch, I promise. And even if I’m not, you’ll be there to save me, right?” You asked, playfully batting your lashes at him

He almost smiled, heat rising in his cheeks, “Of course I will.” 

__________

The warm air hit your face as you left the bar, going straight into the dark alleyway. You stumbled along, playing the part of a helpless drunk girl in hopes that the unsub would bite. A shadow figure approached you from behind. 

“You lookin’ for a good time, sugar?” The man breathed on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. 

“No thanks, back off creep.” You turned, starting for the main street.

“Do NOT speak to me that way, you stupid slut!” He all but screamed at you, grabbing you by the arm. You gasped as you felt a sharp pain in your lower abdomen. Glancing down, you saw the knife he had been concealing now lodged in your stomach. 

“Y/n!” 

You saw Morgan run after the unsub as you sank to the ground, only to be caught by a pair of strong arms. 

“You promised me you’d be okay.”  Hotch spoke to you, his voice trembling slightly. 

You smiled, revealing your blood-stained teeth, “I am okay now that you’re here.”

“Now is not the time for that, Y/n.” Your eyes began to shut — “Hey! Keep looking at me, okay? Stay awake for me.” The pain you were feeling was indescribable, all you wanted was to sleep. 

“It hurts, Hotch.” You whimpered, and his eyes welled up with tears.

“I know, Y/n. I know it does, but you’re going to be alright. You have to be, I can’t lose you too.” His words made your heart flutter, he really did care about you. 

“Hotch?” He hummed in response. “I think I love you,” you said, your eyes finally forcing themselves shut. He sat, rocking your body back and forth as the sirens rapidly approached.

__________

You woke to the sound of beeping monitors, harsh florescent lighting, and the Golden Girls playing on the mounted television. 

“You’re awake,” you heard from beside you. You turned to see a very exhausted Aaron Hotchner, hand grasping for yours. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again, you’ve been in a coma for three days. I thought I lost you.” He put his head down, feeling defeated.

You sighed, “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.” Hotch noticed you tightened your grip on his hand, “You can’t get rid of me that easy, I’m too strong.” 

“This,” you gestured toward your freshly stitched wound, “barely even a scratch.”

Hotch scoffed at you, a grin splitting his previously rigid expression for only a bit, before the look of seriousness returned. “Y/n..” he paused, “do you remember the last thing you said to me before you passed out?” After a few moments of thinking, your eyes widened. Had you really said that out loud? You thought that was a dream. Oh God, what if he doesn’t feel the same? What if he doesn’t feel comfortable being around you anymore?

Your crisis was cut short when he said, “I feel the same way. I’m sorry it took you almost dying for me to admit that.”

— Wait, huh? 

“You what?” You asked, your stomach whirring with excitement. You sat up quickly, sending of small jolts of pain through your body. 

Hotch lent over, his face hovering in front of yours. His breath fanned over your cheeks as he spoke, “Is this okay?” You nodded slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. You had waited so long for this.

His lips brushed gently against yours, careful not to hurt you. You felt yourself melt into his touch as your mouths moved in sync, slow and sweet. Parting, you both smiled. “I love you, Y/n.” He pecked your lips once more. 

“I love you, too.” 

Maybe you should get stabbed more often.

[popcornanon]

Metal, Part 1

A/N: the backstory to my ‘Glass’ story, also I never know what to title my writings lol

Warnings: blood, gore, physical and sexual assault

BAU Team x Reader

Hotch x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Hotch, Morgan and you were crammed into the booth with the best vantage point of the bar. This bar, The Black Cat, was one of the three bars young brunette women disappeared from, only to be later found brutally beaten, sexually assaulted and wrists slit. The bar was packed tight with college students fresh from a university football game. Reid had, of course, decided to stay back at the precinct since bars weren’t really his ‘scene’. He felt he was more helpful going over the files and narrowing down the profile with Rossi.

Morgan’s eyes were trained on the front entrance of the bar as he took a sip of his ginger ale. Hotch’s eyes moved through the room like he was reading a page in a book. His hand fidgeted with his glass.

The bar seemed to become hot and humid with all the sweaty bodies constantly moving around. You scooted out of the booth and told the guys you were going out for some air. You had also wanted to check out the taxi situation to see if the drivers had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“I’ll come with you.” Hotch yelled slightly over the music.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.” You yelled back. Hotch saw the look on your face and read that you’d rather go alone for some quiet and fresh air. He settled back into his seat.

You made your way pushing through the crowd towards JJ and Emily. You quickly informed them of your plan as you kept pushing to the door before they could argue. Finally once you were outside, you positioned yourself under the awning of the bar off to the side. The cool air felt wonderful on your skin as you breathed in the night. The rain was a sprinkle now and several taxi cabs lined the street waiting for potential customers. You looked at your phone to see the time. It was just after 2:00 am. You were hoping last call would be soon and Hotch would allow the team to return to the hotel for a few hours of rest. You shifted on your feet as you regretted not packing your more comfortable shoes. The new shoes had started to ache the soles of your feet and you were dying to kick them off and crawl into your mediocre hotel bed.

You decided to pace the front of the outside of the bar. You tried to determine different vantage points the unsub may have used. As you get closer to the alley to the left of the bar, an arm reached out and wraps around your neck. You knew what this was and you refused to go down without a fight. The attacker pulled you into the darkness. Derek has always described you as small but feisty and you were going to show this unsub just how feisty you could be. His hand now covered your mouth to keep you from yelling out and alerting close by-standers. As the man struggled for something in his pocket, you placed your left foot behind his and twisted to break out of the hold. You broke free but he grabbed your shirt and yanked you back into the alley. You tried for your gun but suddenly a foul smelling cloth covered your mouth. The unsub held you hard against a dumpster. You felt your body begin to weaken despite of your protests. But you didn’t lose consciousness, just lost control of your own body. You leaned on the man as he held you up. Carefully, he unholstered your gun and gently placed it on the alley floor. Your vision began to blur at the edges and the lights blared brightly. You shoved your phone into your pants as best as you could. The man wrapped your arm around his neck as he half carried you to the line of taxis. After deciding on the taxi farthest from the bar door, he smoothly slid you into the backseat of the cab behind the driver. The attacker began casually talking to the driver.

“Whew, what a night! Think my wife drank a bit too much.”  He said as he closed the car door.  “She’s a bit of a lightweight, if you know what I mean.”

The driver chuckled and the unsub gave an address you heard but couldn’t decipher. A phone rang out and for a second you thought it was yours but the attacker answered his own. While he was distracted, you shoved your own phone down a crevice of the taxi seat. You desperately hope someone would find it. You began to fade in and out, hearing only bits and pieces of the unsub’s conversation.  

“Yeah, I can get you the paperwork…sorry babe…got to stop at work for some things. Hey buddy, change of address.”

The rest of the ride was a dizzying fight to stay awake. The cab soon stopped outside a dark warehouse with one dim lightbulb lighting the entrance.

“You want me to wait?” The driver asked.

“Nah, I’ll be awhile. Come on, honey.” He said supporting you and paying the taxi in cash.

The taxi drove off and as soon as you were forced through the door, a powerful punch landed square in your face and you were on the ground. Before you could even register the pain from the blow and the now blood seeping from you nose, you were being dragged through a hallway, down a stairwell, and into a basement. Momentarily you were on your feet only to be pushed down again onto a cold concrete floor. The man began kicking you in the abdomen. The pain was close to blinding now.  

“FBI…huh…not that impressive.” He commented as he circled his prey. “You’ve been gone, what, 20 minutes. Have they even noticed you’re gone?” He landed another kick to your side, this one just as powerful as the others. You began to cough violently.

“How about some music?” Raging heavy metal boomed through the empty basement. Your head rang from what was bound to be a concussion now from all the hits.

He turned you on your back and for the first time you saw your attacker’s face. His eyes were steely blue yet dark with perversion. He straddled you and carried out several more punches to your face and jaw. Red filled your sight and you choked on the blood that rose in your throat. He leaned down to your ear and whispered with his hot breath.

“How about we have some fun before your friends show up?” And the unmistakable sound of a belt unbuckling echoed as a pause in songs happened.  

~ ~ ~

Back at the bar, last call had been called ten minutes ago and there was no sign of you. The team gathered outside of the entrance of the bar.

“I’ve called several times.” JJ said as she hung up her phone. “What if she went back to the precinct?”

“Without telling us?” Morgan stated the obvious.

“No, Reid said she wasn’t there.” Prentiss hung up her own phone.

“I’m calling her again.” JJ shook her head and pressed dial once more.

A balding heavy set men grunted as he got out of his cab to dig in the back of his car. He held up a ringing familiar phone and before JJ could say anything, Hotch was springing over to the taxi. The team following his steps.

“Was that in your passenger seat?” Hotch questioned.

“Uh, yeah think that couple must have left it.”

“What couple?”

“A man and his lady…lady was pretty much out of it. Said she drank too much.”

“Did she look like this?” Emily pulled up a picture of the team at the annual triathlon on her phone. She pointed to your zoomed in smiling picture.

“Yeah, that’s her…ah don’t tell me that was her ex?” The driver asked.

“No, much worse.” Derek mumbled.

“Where did you take them?” Hotch said trying to maintain his voice.

“A warehouse. The guy said it was his office.”  

“We need that address now.” Hotch got his phone out and called Reid. “Reid, we need SWAT and police at this address. We’ll most likely will need EMS too. He has (Y/N).”

~ ~ ~

It was becoming increasingly hard to breathe as you gasped. He was still on top of you. But now he had a knife out and was lightly dragging it across your stomach. Your chest ached, you could tell your ribs were bruised or broken from fighting him.

“Now, for the final performance…my favorite.” He announced.  

He plunged the knife into your lower abdomen as you gasped and coughed. Your body was close to being paralyzed from the pain. He continued stabbing at random places on your torso.

“The piece de resistance!” You could feel the blade drive down your forearm on both wrists, one at a time. He was finishing his MO: slit wrists.

Th CD was now finished with its songs and the faint echoing of sirens filled the musty air. The unsub whipped his head to look in a darkened corner where a shadow moved and the creaking of a door hinge originated.

“Well, funs over now. Ta-ta!” And with that you were left alone.

Your hands and legs began to numb and you struggled to breathe through the blood. Your vision was blurred with crimson. Suddenly, a familiar face peered down into yours. More faded into view. Then mouths moved but the sound was slurred and slow, almost echoing through empty space but unintelligible. Pressure built on your stomach and arms. Your eyes were open, barely processing the chaos surrounding you. Everything went white and suddenly you were in the back of a tall vehicle watching orange lights reflect off objects. A mask covered your mouth and nose but did little to improve your breathing. Your eyes wandered to your side where a grimace of a face was. His umber eyes on yours and you thought to yourself: I don’t have shoes on…when did I take my shoes off?

You attempted to sit up but immense pain and pressure forced you down. The pressure coming from the hands of the umber eyed face. You stared confusingly at the face. It said something but you didn’t understand the words. They were muffled and far away. Your eyes wandered again to your bloodied bandaged left hand and saw the face’s hand in yours. This seemed to confuse you more. You raised your free hand to the hissing mask and removed it as you tried to free yourself from the cords. You began to cry as more hands pushed you gently but forcibly down. You were so tired and weak and confused. A hand reached to your arm and your eyes fluttered closed and all was quiet and still.

[stetervault]

Hello! Do you do rec lists? Would you be willing rec some Steter fics that aren't the most common/popular ones? If not, no worries!

Technically this isn’t a rec-finding blog lol but I do make rec lists sometimes if someone asks and I have the time and I feel like it. Here are some (I think?) less known Steter fics, oldies that people may have missed or forgotten (Idk how well I succeeded, I just picked a bunch that have significantly less reads/bookmarks than the really big fics):

Fear (Doesn't Mean I Can't Fight) by azerblazer

Peter is the damsel in distress, the Sheriff is the hostage, random unnamed hunters are the bad guys.

Stiles has a bat, a hoodie and a willingness to do anything to protect those he's loyal to.

Bring it on.

A Lean and Hungry Look by kototyph

The woods aren't the only place you find wolves.

You're Mine, Valentine by orphan_account

In which Peter decides to court Stiles, and does so by leaving him hearts.

Bloody ones.

Zodiac by Green

"You know, Taurus and Libra make a good match," Peter says with a sly smile.

Stiles looks away. "Yeah. I looked that up, too."

Surviving Peter and the Zombie Apocalypse by Nopennamesleft

Its the end of the world and Stiles has run out of luck. He saves a werewolf from certain death. Will they begin to rely on each other to survive or will the wolf just eat Stiles for a midnight snack?

He Is A Villain By The Devil's Law by neglectedtuesday

Stiles��� lungs are burning, blood is pumping through his veins and he’s pretty sure that if he stops running then he’ll just keel over into the gutter. But God does he feel alive. The sirens are wailing, loud and clear. Just one more block. One more block. Stiles ducks down an alleyway, the bag full of bank notes swinging behind him. It hits his side with a dull thud. The alley smells like cat pee and yesterdays trash so Stiles breathes shallowly through his mouth. He continues walking down it until he reaches the end. It opens out onto the street. He stops just shy of the exit, waiting. He waits a bit more. Then he kicks a can lying idle on the ground. He whips out his burner phone, punching in a number.

“Where the fuck are you?” Stiles growls, “Where’s my goddamn getaway car?”

“Change of plans Stilinski, you’re gonna have to get away on your own. Also ditch the phone.”

Fascinated by lemonstiles, migratoryslashfan

Stiles pontificates over Peter's naked body.

Night-blooming Flowers by imriebelow

Peter always gets what he wants. Stiles learns to live with it.

None of These Things (Are Happening) by Horribibble

After years away, Stiles returns to Beacon Hills just in time to put Isaac's insides back where they belong.

It's cute how people think he's trustworthy.

-

Peter can smell the violence inside him, the urge to do something grand and possibly cataclysmic. It’s there—mixed with a balance and natural calm, but in the undercurrent, it’s there. He has seen things beyond the scope of Beacon Hills’ petty horror show. He has learned things.

The Terrible Things We Do (For Love) by rospeaks

Being a demon, he’s seen some of the pretty nasty things that humans are willing to do for love. Things that, were he still alive (and human), would make him hesitate to be in a relationship with anyone lest his partner start getting some funny ideas. That said—

"This seems a little desperate for a kid your age," he says to Stiles.

Spin, Sweet Clotho by ChuckleVoodoos

Oh, it’s a beautiful thing to watch, the way they dance around each other, spun in sugar and glittering glass. Like a fragile little fairytale, a tender rosebud just waiting to unfurl. It makes Peter sick.

Because love is a fairytale, and his dear darling nephew does not deserve a happy ending.

whisper by tricksterity

Stiles was tired.

He was done of people pushing him and his pack around. They’d already lost so much and he was damned if he’d let them lose anyone else, especially to this psychopath who had no reasons for what he did other than he liked it.

And that’s when the whispers in his mind grew louder.

Remember Darling, All the While by Sang_argente

It was fire, ice, electricity. It was the first kiss, the last kiss, and every kiss inbetween. It was lips parting, tongues sliding, hearts beating.

Impress Me by ToAStranger

Their new English teacher has gone missing.

Falling Upward by moonstalker24

There is nothing quite like flying. There is a calm and a peace found in the sky that cannot be found on earth. All the chaos of the world is below you and there is no sound save that which the propeller makes as the engine turns it. You are free and unfettered and the clouds are close enough to touch; all you need do is stretch out your hand to grasp them.

Stiles takes Peter flying after he gets out of Eichen House.

Sweeter Than Gingerbread by taylorpotato (Stetallison)

The saying goes that lovers who commit suicide together start their next life as twins. Perhaps that's why Stiles and Ally feel the way they do about each other.

The Shadow Effect by Mysenia

What was the fun in being a twin if you couldn't trick a person or two?

Deep under by Sashaya

There's a reason Stiles knows so much about drowning. He'd rather not remember why...

All the World's a Stage (but the light design is subpar) by BonesOfBirdWings

Peter Hale is a successful Off-Broadway actor, and Stiles is a stage lighter who literally falls into his life.

Peter smiled at him. "Thank you, Stiles. But should I take this to mean that you don't want a meatball sandwich from Banh Mi Saigon?"

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "You - I - Yes, I want! Oh my god, you do the best apologies! Can you piss me off more, please? I accept all future apologies enthusiastically!"

Peter chuckled. "I'm sure that won't be a problem, dear boy. I've been informed that I'm an asshole by a very reliable source."

Stiles beamed. "But you have good taste in food, so things balance out?" he ventured.

Peter threw back his head and laughed. Stiles' grin brightened in answer.

The D.C. Backroom Deal by septima_sum

Stiles is a regular prostitute with moderate life goals – until his current client makes him an offer he can’t refuse.

Strange Duet by BelleAmante, thiliart (thilia)

The past three years have been a series of shocking, or not so shocking, successes for 2018 Tony award winner and two time Grammy nominee, Stiles Stilinski. You don’t typically find classically trained opera singers singing alternative folk rock to crowds at Coachella. Nor do you find indie singer/songwriters winning best actor awards at the Tony’s for their Broadway debuts. Stilinski has made it his lifetime habit to defy and exceed all expectations.

-or-

A Steter fic loosely based on Phantom of the Opera

Hold Me Down by sneksonaplane

Waking up in Peter Hale’s bed was weird. Waking up in Peter Hale’s body was even weirder. Stiles had been disoriented and confused when he’d found himself in a plush, king sized bed in an unfamiliar bedroom instead of in his own room (and seriously, why did Peter even need a king sized bed? Why would anyone need a bed that big?) It had all come back to him when he’d glimpsed the body he was inhabiting, one that was shorter but more defined than his own, and older, and kind of hot.

OR

The one where Stiles and Peter swap bodies, Peter relives his adolescence, Stiles suffers, and then suffers a little less when he discovers Peter's fetlife profile where he's listed as a submissive seeking a daddy.

It Was A Dark And Stormy Night by Guede

This is a ghost story. It’s not straightforward.

Put My Faith in Something Unknown by Twisted_Mind

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, suspended between thought and action, unable to feel. At some point, he becomes aware that there’s a hand on his face. A warm palm cradles his jaw, and a thumb brushes across his cheekbone tenderly.

The Rest of Our Lives by mia6363

“I don’t know, as a kid I watched a lot of movies, you know? And at first I figured like… I’d be on some great adventure that would take me away from it all, you know? Like Indiana Jones comes around and is all, ‘Hey Stiles, buddy, come with me we’ve got to go save the world.’ Then… you and… everything happened… then I just… I figured I’d die before I was eighteen.”

Enemy Action by pprfaith

Once is chance, twice is coincidence and three times is far too many bodies on the ground.

Buy Me a New Pair by Julibean19

"I don't practice law much these days."

"And why is that?" Stiles asked, wondering why a handsome and presumably successful lawyer wouldn't want to continue working.

"I've been drawn away by more pleasurable pursuits," Peter said, lips quirked upward as he spoke.

Tale as Old as Time by wynnebat

The one in which Lydia's got better things to do than be Belle, Stiles is a much more likeable Gaston, and Peter is a beast but not quite beastly.

The clothes make the man by FeelingsDusk

The trick to sneaking into a building where you shouldn’t be is to make it seem to all eyes like you should. Stiles has been doing this since he was a little older than toddler and he wanted to get back his Batman action figure from the evidence room in his dad’s Police Station.

(Spolier alert: just like back then, Stiles gets caught.)

Smile Like You Mean It by NinaRooxx

After sulking about the changing weather over the autumn, Stiles notices that despite the weather getting colder, Peter’s wardrobe isn’t changing at all.

Swing by ShippersList

Stiles wants to fly.

Angels, Devils, and Peter by Triangulum

Everyone has an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other. They give advice, help guide their human through life. They tempt, they listen, they offer help. Everyone has one of each. Everyone except for Stiles.

OR

Stiles and Peter are murder husbands.

love and madness by sinequanon

Peter and Stiles haven’t seen each other in months when the alphas ask them to meet up to look over an abandoned house. Now, they’re going to be seeing a lot of each other for quite a while to come.

Not This Again by RebaK1tten

There's a rumor that the last episode of the show will have Peter getting killed, again. Perhaps to give him a redemption arc or something.

A Light at the (Near) End of the World by ladyoneill

The world he grew up in has ended in a supernatural war that devastated the human population. A survivor, Stiles lives a solitary, quiet life in Wales until there's a knock on his door.

Through Space and Time by MaroonDragon

When Stiles pulls the body of Peter Hale into his ship, he doesn't expect him to be alive. He also doesn't realise he might have gotten more than he bargained for.

His Color by SushiOwl

“Darling, have you been carrying a throw-away comment I made in your mind for almost four months?”

Stiles’s face felt like it was one with fire now.

After You by FlyAwayMeow (rjaejoo)

It’s true that sometimes what you want the most, you can’t have and that you’ll miss what you once had all along when it’s finally gone.

After breaking his engagement to Chris, Peter heads to New York to start over. He meets Stiles, a young author at his publishing house who helps him piece his confidence back together. When tragedy strikes, he discovers how to finally let go of his past and have the family and future he's always wanted with the pieces already in his life.

Looking After You by Slayer_of_Destiny

Can Peter be a chance for Stiles, can Stiles be a second chance for Peter? When Peter offers Stiles a relationship will the younger man take the chance with the werewolf?

Maybe We Both Are by lavenderlotion

The first time Stiles lets his fingers brush against Peter he wasn’t expecting the response he got. They were sitting on Stiles bed researching something. Or, they were researching. Now they were just talking. They did that a lot these days, just talked. They also ate together a lot. Or got coffee.

these words bear my scars (paint your love on my skin) by WindyRein

One day butterflies and childish codes change to I'm sorry you're meant for a murderer and he won't realize for years how much that changed his life.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

The Lady of Lightning by kiranightshade

"Those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside"

Can You Use Lube For That? by AlreadyBoss

“You think your what is haunted now?” Surely he'd misheard. There was no way-

“My vibrator,” Stiles answered with alarming sincerity.

Well. He hadn't misheard after all.

Pianist Envy by Bunnywest

Stiles is the piano player.Peter can think of other things he'd like to see those hands do.Shame the guy's straight.

Everything You Deserve by Areiton

You think about it. More than you should, you think about it. About what would have happened, if you had bitten Stiles instead of Scott.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Lord Peter by Therapeutic_Steter

Peter rung out the rag before gently placing it on his mother’s head, reaching over to feel his father’s equally flushed features.

“Such a good boy,” his mother said, patting his arm with what little strength she had remaining. His father smiled softly at him even as his fell unconscious. Peter pushed back the lump in his throat, smiling shakily for his mother before venturing out into the living space.

knit me together by nezstorm

Peter asks Stiles to stay the night after a really awful day.

Warriors by CinnamonLily

Peter is ten years old when humans discover Azure, a planet not unlike Earth. From there on, he wants to learn everything about their new neighbors and the planet itself. It takes him over twenty years to get to Azure, but when he does, it's so worth it. His anthropologist heart is happy, and a new acquaintance in the form of an Azurian called Stiles might just make the rest of him happy, too.

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 7: Bloody Reunions

Chapter summary: Time to get the Wolf. Alexis conducts interrogations like the badass she is, but sometimes it sucked being that good at her job. (Protective couple... you don’t even have to squint.)

Warnings: Misogynistic POS, emotional detachment, blood and violence, mild graphic detail of torture. (4490 words... i went hAM lol)

28 October 2019, 0630 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with Demon Dogs Rammazan, Urzikstan

   "Place is a freaking morgue."

Judging by the piles of stacked bodies on the medical beds, it was a justified statement. Morgue might be an idoneous word for hospital. The patronising smell of death bypassed her as usual, but not the disturbing scene of unnaturally still bodies.

The handiwork of Roman Barkov.

There was a twisted satisfaction when Alexis shoved another magazine in her M4A1, knowing one of these bullets had Barkov's name mentally carved into it. She couldn't wait to see it lodged between his eyes.

"Check the bodies..." Sergeant Griggs ordered. The Marines and both CIA agents warily slithered along the occupied stretchers and medical beds—hoping none of them was sleeping with a gun.

It was a gut-wrenching sight. Bloodshed and raw injuries everywhere they turned. Not even sure if those alive should be considered lucky.

Suddenly, one of the civilians bolted into a sitting position, making everybody on edge. Frantic shouts and language barrier only escalated the chaos. Not willing to see another dead body, Alexis interjected in mediocre Arabic, calmly demanding the man to lay back down.

"More than a pretty face..." She looked distastefully over her shoulder, the Marine didn't bother wiping the smirk off his face and instead, shamelessly winked. Revolting, but she merely rolled her eyes, though a much younger her wouldn't hesitate to deck his face.

Gender discrimination in the military was a blast. There came a time when a heavy chip weighed down her shoulders—excruciating, yet she thrived under it. Often, some misogynistic meathead would challenge her.

Emotional, weaker, probably a lousy spotter, wouldn't last a week in the jungle.

Eventually, they all ate their words.

Alexis broke through every damn glass ceilings she went: the only female recruit in her company, made Lieutenant, then transferred to JSOC's Task Force Black. Impossible was understating things.

Her unconventional transfer to Task Force Black was a statement in itself. It finally felt like she earned it. Though she loved 88, the CIA was a nice change of scenery, where there were lesser suffocating males with inferiority complex and women were actually appreciated.

Five years later, such remarks were a humourless punchline to her. On the contrary, Alex fantasied how good Demon 1-2 would look with a bruise on his face. In the shape of his rifle stock.

Truthfully, even she considered shoving a middle finger. The weather was hot enough to vaporise her and having a tactical vest strapped against her sweaty body, was not it.

Things changed when another civilian to their 3 o'clock pulled out a gun targeted at the uniforms. While everyone was still busy hollering around, she shot a precise bullet between the hostile's eyes.

With a thud, the man fell off the stretcher.

The female agent scoffed, returning a satirical wink of her own, "Stay frosty, 1-2." He tripped around his words in shock, until Sergeant Griggs forced the gratitude out of him.

Well. If the Universe wanted to send it her way, who was she to reject it, right? She shook her head at the inevitable smirk on Alex, a subtle one hanging on her lips too.

It was a shame that the peace was ephemeral, by this time, several of Sergeant Griggs' men went radio silent. She religiously trailed behind Alex. They pushed further into the hospital, only to be met with a minigun.

"Mini my ass," Alexis laughed nervously as bullets sprayed inches away from tearing her abdominal—because of her ballsy move to switch covers.

"Holy fucking... Okay! Don't give me that look, Alex!"

She thanked the Heavens that Alex's yells were muffled over ricocheting bullets. Several smoke grenades later, Alex sniped the gunman and lo and behold, they finally reached a heavily chained door.

Score, imagery confirmed the Wolf was inside.

It was her job to clear the room while Alex secured the Wolf. Her index finger pressed lightly against the trigger, swallowing the adrenaline that dangerously swirled inside her. Upon Alex's signal, they sneaked in and hid behind messy shelves. The visual of the three missing Marines came into view, with one held hostage with a knife against his throat as the Wolf filmed another propaganda video.

"Check... Five hostiles."

"Affirmative. On my mark," Alex replied. A split second later, he tackled the Wolf from behind. His men's reactions were quick, but her years of muscle discipline was borderline supernatural.

"Clear!" Griggs rushed to untie his men. "You two good?"

Alexis nodded, tightening the zip ties uncomfortably around the Wolf's wrist. She began examining his body language, hopefully finding nibs of his tells to use against him in interrogation later.

Omar Sulaman was strangely calm for a man with a foiled plan. There was slight reluctance in his steps, but still, silence.

"Saint to Watcher, Wolf is in the bag."

Her voice was a stark contrast to the boyish tones that surrounded the room—earning the Wolf's attention, who made the bold decision to turn around abruptly.

"What are you doing here, daughter?"

Alexis felt the entire world's gaze burn into her side profile, equally as confused as the lot. She shrugged and walked away.

Inwardly, the interrogator inside was thrilled. The Wolf was in for a helluva surprise.

━━━━━

28 October 2019, 2100 Sakhra, Urzikstan

The air-conditioned room in the embassy was a godsend, not a word of complaint as the cold air blanketed her. Alexis, Alex, Farah and Hadir patiently waited for Price's arrival.

When Alexis expectingly popped a piece of mint gum, Alex knew. Though it didn't take an expert to discern the ominous aura around her. Alexis hadn't said more than what was necessary in the seven hours since they captured the Wolf, busying herself to study the Wolf.

Alex was smarter than to cut in between. Like Alexis said, she was damn good at her job. Interrogation was one of her most valued expertise, perhaps arguably why the CIA wanted her so badly and the reason why JSOC refused to let her go.

There was a secret to her tactics—compartmentalise. Alexis sat opposite the Wolf, gaze cold as ice. It was a chilling sight even for Alex.

Unscrewing his bottle, Alex greedily rehydrated himself, still observing Alexis. The grittier bite in her tactics was certainly noticeable. He guessed it had something to do with her incident. Having been captured once or twice, that was the closest Alex came to ever understanding her.

Sometimes Alex swore he never got her back.

Physical detachment was a given while she was... compartmentalising, although the rising situation gave him no choice. A shiver ran down his spine as he tapped her shoulders. At the slight arch of her eyebrows, "Bravo's three mikes out."

Alexis blinked slowly in comprehension, not realising Alex's first announcement shot past her. She nodded methodically, the metal chair screeched as she got up. She charged determinedly to an isolated hallway and slipped down against the wall, burying her head in her tucked knees. Despite the rapid intakes of breaths, it didn't suffice.

She loathed every single second in interrogations. Doing the Devil's work, she thought. The irony in this situation was her call sign. For someone called Saint, she didn't know anything else more normal than this.

Saint wasn't a moniker given to her because she was virtuous, innocent or some shit like that. Hilarious to think that, for its darker origin.

Every time she conducted an interrogation, she had to subdue the gag-inducing hypocrisy. How could she, after St. Petersburg?

The reports claimed it was a miracle she survived. Fuck that, what did they know.

That birthday was memorable, to say the least. He had even arranged something special that faithful day—nothing said happy birthday! more than electrocution.

152 days.

"ты прекрасна, ангел... (You are beautiful, angel..)"

"Fuck!" Her eyes shot open, desperate to let the ugly fluorescent light blind the image. Autonomously, her fingers scratched wildly across her arms. After a particularly deep breath, her head fell against the wall and like clockwork, she exhaled all her anxiety.

She was too good at pretending.

It was her desire to stay in solitude longer, but the shrilling embassy siren obviously had other plans. Doubling back, she found Alex at the doorway already looking for her.

"The Butcher and his men are about to breach. We need to leave, now." She peered into the room, barely seeing the tinted glow of the fire outside. Noticing the rising blood clots and angry red streaks on her forearms, Alex clenched his fists to restrain himself from reaching out, knowing she would only flinch. So, he settled for a hard swallow of his saliva, "Follow me."

Price's voice rang in their ears, "Saint and Echo 3-1, primary extraction failed. We're down on the roof."

"Understood. What's the call, Captain?"

"There's a saferoom in the basement. Head there. We'll be right behind you."

When they reached the basement, Alexis basically scrambled to the CCTVs for a sitrep–she had half a thought to join the sweep, eager to rid the hypocrisy from her systems. Eternity later, or in reality, twenty minutes later, their backup arrived.

Price.

The SAS Captain squeezed her upper arm in greeting. Lucky for her, it was where the bullet had previously scraped her. Price clapped Alex's back while glancing at her patched-up injury, "That fast, huh?"

Missed you too, old man, she thought, rolling her eyes as a response. Her coldness confused the Captain, eyes darting to Alex for an answer. He understood when Alex cocked his head at the Wolf.

"Let's move. Clock's ticking."

"You heard her..." Price ordered the Sergeant to direct the Ambassador secretary to safety and the rest headed to the parking lot. While Price and Farah went to retrieve the Ambassador's secretary, the two CIA agents stood guard at the car park entrance.

Under the flashing red coat of the emergency lights, there was no mistaking in the comfort Alex's concerned nod brought her.

It was apparent that Alex was her anchor. But in this state, she couldn't bear to look at him for long, internally disgusted by herself. All these years, she was petrified to ask if he was repulsed by her hypocrisy.

Then, she felt the hesitant touch of a coarse, large hand. She accepted it immediately—much to Alex's surprise. Their fingers intertwined secretly in the dimly lit hallway. Her eyes had long adapted to the darkness, able to witness Alex looking down at her and just like that, a sense of serenity flowed through her.

The unreadable expression on his face was a stranger to her in all their time together. Under the magnetic allure of Alex's gaze and the soothe whirring of his touch, it felt like they were worlds away from a war zone. Until gunshots unforgivingly interrupted.

She immediately retracted her hand.

Afterwards, the group slotted the obtained garage keycard. They fought through waves of Al-Qatala soldiers in low light, courtesy of the lacking streetlights.

The Ambassador's residence was no sanctuary either, as another wave of AQ fighters drew closer. Afraid the rising situation might delay their timeline, Price ordered her to start interrogations immediately. Her heart jumped at the unexpected news, suddenly thrown in the ring.

Hadir and Farah sent nods of encouragement before running out the residence. Price, despite raging at Laswell through the comms, mustered one last small smile for her.

That left Alex, who looked equally worried as her. Wordlessly, he tapped at the base of his neck. She understood instantly, feeling the cool metal of his dog tag against her skin. Obviously they had airtight obligations to not carry personal items, zero accountability and all, but it was Alex. She had corrupted him enough to not give a fuck.

The dog tag was nothing informative, only a simple 'X' carved messily from Alex's kitchen knife. Useless to her enemy, but deadly if it was ever pried from her neck.

It was a matching set. She mysteriously woke up with it after that night with Alex. His way of saying they'd always have a piece of each other.

With one last longing look, that unbeknownst to both of them—burned their insides, Alex left her alone with the Wolf.

━━━━

Her immediate observation? The Wolf was talkative.

It didn't faze her—narcissists simply could not shut up. Past thirty minutes, zero words retaliated and the Wolf was still going on.

Please. She wanted to yawn. Her legs swung restlessly while she sat on a table, undermining whatever authority the Wolf thought he had. The folklores he told in his grandiose sense of self-importance was vexing but valuable.

He hated women in combat. She learnt that when he tried to recruit Farah and even her, just minutes ago. Omar Sulaman thought women were weak.

Exciting.

As he rambled on, she almost failed to suppress a scoff. A woman wielding more power was his stressor, this meathead would be even easier to break.

"You have killer eyes," The Wolf said, tone switched from persuasive to intimidating. He exhausted everything—telling stories of what Barkov's men did to "weak" women, trying to scare her into his protection. Alexis hadn't bothered reacting, which pissed him off.

Victory surged past the fog of irritation inside her. She had conditioned the Wolf by staying quiet, truly a personal achievement. His narcissistic tendencies were itching to get out, evident from how he was desperately reaching for straws.

Alexis reached for her stripped vest and carelessly dug around for a plastic bottle. Popping the lid open, she chucked a mint gum in preparation.

It was time. Clouded by anger, he'd make mistakes that she would catch.

"Somebody hurt you."

She couldn't resist a huff at his eleventh-hour tactics. So the Wolf was now gunning for her emotional side? Fine, she'd bite.

"Don't act like you know me."

"Oh, child... I know more than you think. The look in your eyes, fear..." The Wolf paused, smirking arrogantly even at her mocking smile. "You put a great act, daughter. But I've been around longer than you... seen more."

"I bet... Because what makes a freedom fighter wake up and decide to switch sides?" Alexis circled him in pretence thought, "Money?" Noticing his jaw clenched, she pressed on it. "Power? That's why you made those videos?"

Alexis interrupted at the sounds of his protest, "Surely freedom fighters must not pay well. Maybe you got sick of that and switched?"

"I didn't switch sides! I was always on the right side."

"And what side is that?"

"The winning side," He snapped, "This occupation will never end if we hold sympathy for others."

A narcissist with a saviour complex, laughable. Alexis returned to stand in front of him, the grin ever present on her face. "But you didn't deny my claims—you want money and power."

The Wolf wanted to charge at her but was tied by the restraints, heavy creases in his forehead as he snarled, "No! I am saving Urzikstan!"

"Murdering people is saving them? I know people just like you, hiding behind a cause. After you kill Barkov, you will only start your own regime." Alexis chuckled darkly, "I'm not gonna let you do that. Don't bother holding out, nobody's coming to save you."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" At her strained expression, he continued, "If I die today, I die a hero. You? Your death will be meaningless, a secret." He continued laughing, "You Westerners... Busybodies, you have no business here. The price for that is death–"

He paused, not because of her killer gaze, but as if something in him clicked, "You have no family... That's why you are here." Loud waves of laughter escaped from the man, like he figured it out. And fuck, he did, word for word.

Alexis must have reached Nirvana or gained enlightenment, shocked by her restrain to not blow Omar Sulaman's brains out. She dare not move a muscle, refused to prove him right.

"When my men come, and they will. I will spare you, kill everybody but you. Maybe even make you watch that young man who loves you so much. Then, you shall know fear, child..."

That was it, her trigger point. Blood red. Hot flashes of anger. Picturing Alex's dead body was enough to chuck everything up. The wrathful voice inside her absolutely shattered her restrain, no longer concerned with not letting the Wolf gain an edge.

Alexis bit.

In a flash, she tipped his chair behind and roughly circled a hand around his neck.

"Don't. You think you know fear? You don't know shit until you carve your name on a disgusting brick wall with your bloody fingernails because it was the only way anyone would know what happened to you." Alexis spat, eyes boring at the choking man rendered helpless under her. "So don't fucking talk to me about fear, old man."

When the Wolf thrashed around to breathe, she waited another three seconds before releasing him—the once tipped chair landing wobbly with a sharp shriek. Her sudden outburst gained a new terror visible in the Wolf's eyes. No longer the delicate soldier his sanctimonious mind painted her as.

"Now," She slapped the invisible dust off her hands, tone bouncing scarily fast to normal. "Where is the gas?"

"I... I don't know."

Sighing, she wiped the sweat off her forehead and asked again. Still receiving the same reply, "And I don't believe you. Nothing escapes the Wolf. Someone stole the gas and you knew about it..." Alexis abruptly paused, fingers tapped against her forehead, "No, wait. You made a deal. Help whoever steal the gas and they promise to help you chase the foreign powers out?"

His silence was abundant.

There wasn't a tinge of remorse when her fingertips glided along a screwdriver.

"Since you have been here for much longer... You know this next part." As soon as she wiggled the screwdriver between her fingers, Alexis had him in the bag. The slight twitch under the Wolf's right eye was his tell, fear. Alexis witnessed it when she choked the living hell out of him.

Too damn easy. She should dress a big fat red ribbon across him right now.

"And since you know me so well," She gestured between them, "You definitely know that I'm a big believer in second chances. Right your wrongs, blah blah. I'll give you second chances. Many more, actually, I'm pretty generous... But I'm not sure if you can take it." With that, she ruthlessly stabbed into his left thigh, a devious smile spreading wider with the increased intensity of his screams. The metal tip squelched when she dug around.

"The gas?"

"I... Stop!" The Wolf bellowed in pain when she yanked it out, sprays of blood following. For someone called the Wolf, he had an embarrassing low pain tolerance.

She tilted his chin up, pleased as she surveyed the sweat that broke. "Here's your second chance. Third is when I snap your femoral artery and hang you for all of Urzikstan to see you bleed out. Your legacy will be a joke."

"Y–You can't do that..." He shook his head weakly, eyes blinking in pain. "Everyone will know the Americans are here... You'll be buried with me."

Reducing to eye level, she smiled wholeheartedly, "I'll make sure to dig a grave big enough for us both. Last call... Your third chance is coming," Alexis taunted, nodding towards the electrical screwdriver—witnessing the fear shudder across his body. "Where is the gas?"

She came so close to breaking him, practically seeing the words trying to tumble out of his mouth. Literally a blink later, a truck wildly crashed into their room, crumbling the house's weak foundations. Jerking to a standing position, she instantly reached for her sidearm and fired.

At least five men exited the truck, spraying bullets that forced her to tuck her body behind the slim profile of a cupboard.

They had AKs and she had a handgun, do the math.

She hurriedly pressed her comms, "I lost visual on the Wolf!"

Her instincts wrangled between fight or flight, seeing that she was severely outnumbered and the door was literally on her left. But the morality in her warred on. Suppressed under heavy fire, she still had no visual of the Wolf, but assumed he was freed by now.

She yelped in surprise as a painful tug tossed her out into the open. A burly man wasted no time to attack her. She barely raised her Glock 21 before he swiftly grabbed her wrist and pressed the magazine release button.

He wanted to reach for her Glock's slide lock before she elbowed his jaw, making him stumble backwards but made a quick recovery. He threw her into the metal table and she lost the grip on her gun.

Alexis' back arched painfully across the table, hands scrambling for purchase to rid the tightening hands around her neck. She weakly tried to pry in between his arms, but her lungs burned from the depleting oxygen. Fingers scrambling to poke his eyes and finally mustering enough strength, she sent a cheap blow to his nuts. He hunched over just enough for her to inhale loudly.

Seeing that, the Wolf's man started firing again.

She kneed him in the gut, put him in a chokehold and propped him up as her shield. The man's body jerked in reaction to every bullet he received.

Her ears picked up on the distinct sound of M4A1s approaching closer to her location. The Wolf motioned to leave, dust spluttering her way as their truck wildly reversed, with the Wolf grinning victoriously in the passenger seat.

"We will meet again, daughter! And your lovely man."

He left her alive. Like he said he would.

Miraculously still breathing, the man in her grasps used this distraction to tug on her legs. Seconds later, she felt a splitting pain in her head.

She was on the ground when she reopened her eyes, hazily feeling a wet sensation drip down her temples. The pain mirrored a wave, boggling inside her. Black spots started to consume the edges of her sight.

No no no.

From her blurry vision, she managed to squint out something glimmering in her 12 o'clock—she assumed a knife or her god damn screwdriver coming back to bite her ass.

Not like this.

The shuffles of dragged footsteps echoed in her brain, almost a warning from her body. She blindly saw the shift in light source, presuming he was walking towards her.

Incoherent words tumbled out, forcing herself to speak so she wouldn't pass out. Shaking, she pushed her upper body off the floor and stretched for her fallen sidearm...

That one bullet in the Glock's chambers was still waiting.

More blood flowed messily down her head, further impairing what was left of her vision.

Muscle memory dictated the rest—the grainy grip of her Glock, index finger looped around the trigger.

Alexis prayed when she fired.

At the assuring sound of a body collapsing, so did Alexis.

━━━━━

Price was the one to spot her.

"Clear!" He burst open the door, finding a jarring hole in the walls and an unconscious Alexis laying beside a dead man.

"Shit," Kyle said from beside him. "Is she breathing?"

Price shouted for Alex and the man instantly appeared beside him. Careful not to move her unnecessarily, two shaky fingers checked Alexis' pulse, Price felt his heart threatened to burst out.

"She's alive."

No one heaved louder than Alex. They examined her injuries, a large gash splashed across her right temple that hopefully a few stitches would solve. But her unconsciousness was troubling.

"How long has it been?"

"More than a minute..."

"Fuck, we need to do something!" Alex yelled frantically. Please, please, please wake up. Her chances of a brain injury increased by the seconds. Fuck! He should have stayed with her, why didn't he stay?

His hands gently cupped the sides of her face, feeling an onslaught of tears starting to form amidst the rising stuffiness in his nose. As his light-blue jeans was tinted a carmine red, he decided this was his fault.

Alex jerked at the mention of his name.

"Let me clean her injuries..." Farah coaxed, a cloth that reeked of disinfectant in her hands. Alex reluctantly shifted, kneeling beside her laying body and watched Farah dab carefully, venomously demanding her to exact more care.

"Alex," A powerful grip tugged on his vest, lifting him to his feet to meet John Price. "Ease off. Let Farah and Hadir do the work."

"Captain..."

"She will be fine, trust me." Price chuckled to himself, "Unbelievable. That woman is still an excellent shot." He whistled lowly, staring at the man with a fatal shot to his heart.

Price said with a knowing look, "Clear your head, son."

"Yes sir," Alex exhaled, going to retrieve her fallen comms set on the floor.

Seconds later, Farah yelled for them. The two men doubled back, finding Farah holding Alexis down from wiggling about. Alex heard a groggy mumble of his name.

"Alex..." Alexis repeated, head rolling around despite the yells of protest. "Where..."

"Here! Here! I'm right here. You need to stop moving, baby." Alex skidded to her side and held her outreached hands. His eyes raking over her as if he had the superpower to mentally check her wellbeing.

A weak grin formed at the realisation that he was alive, breathing and right before her. "The Wolf... He... The escaped... He... car... men."

"Shhh, we'll get him," Hadir tried to pacify her while handing Farah a clean cloth.

Ten minutes passed before she started making sense and was fully conscious. Though the pounding in her head was enough to last a lifetime. Her eyes averted to the dead man.

Jesus, the pain...

"Alexis." Price sternly warned.

"Get me up... I'm fine... Don't be a pussy."

Carefully positioning her to sit up, she weakly laid against Alex's chest. The man could care less when her blood seeped into his shirt—evident as he steadied her head against his own, refusing to let her move it wildly.

Staring at her bewildered teammates, she hazily slurred: "Well. Don't all of you look like shit."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓

a/n: i really went with the "i'm injured and my lover finds me and cradles me in my blood" trope and y'know what. y'all are welcome ;) btw sry for the late update... i edited this chapter 17 times lol i was so insecure about it. thanks for waiting lovers!

taglist: @flyboidameron​​ @wanderlustgiant​​ (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

[habibialkaysani]

Touch (Laurel/Nyssa; T) - Earth-2

Ships: Laurel/Nyssa

Summary: Laurel and Nyssa. Dinah and Amina. Green Arrow and the Black Canary. Daredevil and the Black Sky. The Flash and Vibe.

Across the multiverse, they go by many names, surrounded by different people at different times in their lives. But there is one golden link between the Dinah Laurel Lances and Nyssa Raatkos across the infinite earths - that they always find each other. And every time, their story starts with a single touch.

Read at AO3

A/N: Many thanks to Soph/@sophiainspace​ for reading this one over (forever ago lol) and giving me much needed suggestions. I am a total procrastinator which is why this one has been on the backburner, but I'm hoping that I can get back to it now I have hopefully found my groove again :)

Also, this one is totally in the spirit of Pride, but please heed the warning of referenced homophobia.

Earth-2

 (In which [Dinah] Laurel Lance, pre her Black Siren days, as a teenager hopelessly in love with her best friend, Amina Raatko II, or Nyssa’s doppelganger.)

 "Keep your back straight."

 "Why can't I keep it gay?" Dinah said, and despite Amina's best efforts to maintain her composure, Dinah could feel, from Amina's hand in the small of her back, that her best friend was only just holding back a silent quake of laughter. 

 They were standing in a field close to their school, where they'd been training for a while now. It was nice, being here, not least because it was empty around them, what felt like miles and miles of blank space that was theirs alone. It made Dinah think - somewhat wistfully - that for a while she could pretend they were the only two people on the face of the earth they stood on. 

 It was a good feeling, while it lasted. 

 "Back straight, Dinah, and feet apart," Amina said, her commanding voice (which got under Dinah’s skin, literally, making her shiver involuntarily) betrayed only slightly by a tinge of amusement. "If you're serious about learning archery -" 

 "Of course I am - why else would I spend two whole hours slapping water with you?" 

 "- you need to quit having such sloppy posture. Irrespective of how many girls you like," Amina added, now with a clearly teasing lilt in her tone. 

 "You're so bossy," Dinah complained, but of course it was with fondness as she looked at her friend and caught her gaze. She didn't add, though, that there was only one girl she liked, and Dinah was looking at her. 

 "You're a brat." 

 "You love me," Dinah retorted, without thinking, but perhaps thankfully, she wasn’t able to linger over her petulant slip of tongue even for a second, as just then her breath caught in her throat when she felt Amina's foot go between hers to nudge them further apart. 

 "I do," Amina agreed, "but I don't love your really weak foundation. You're opening yourself up to attack." 

 Dinah was confused now. "So you're teaching me self-defence?" 

 "Archery involves a weapon. One that I hope you only ever have to use on targets. But if you do find yourself in a situation where you need to defend yourself - at least you'll be prepared." 

 Turning her head slightly, Dinah met Amina's eyes. "Come on. I can't even kill a spider without feeling guilty."

 "And I hope that never changes,” Amina said sincerely. Then she cleared her throat, saying in a businesslike tone, “But in the meantime, you need a strong foundation. So you need to have your feet apart."

 Dinah tried not to show her disappointment when Amina stepped away from her for a moment, but thankfully she returned seconds later bearing her bow. It was hard for Dinah not to admire Amina when she was like this, brow furrowed, tongue between her teeth in concentration, in her element as she handed the bow to Dinah. Dinah took it, but of course Amina had to correct her grip, and Dinah could feel the goosebumps erupting on her spine even before Amina’s cool palm closed over Dinah’s fingers.

 "How many times, Dinah? Back straight," Amina ordered, and Dinah bit back a laugh as she did as she was told. Amina reached behind her to get an arrow out of her quiver - it was purple, because of course Amina Raatko would make her own purple arrowheads - and Dinah thought Amina was giving it to her, but their hands were still touching, ever so slightly, when Amina guided Dinah's fingers down the drawstring. "You feel that?" Amina's breath was warm, soft, as it tickled the shell of Dinah's ear, and she had to remember to breathe a moment later. 

 The drawstring was taut as Dinah tugged it back. "Yeah." Too quickly though she let go, and the arrow only zoomed forward a foot or so before veering downwards into the grass, nowhere near the target. 

 "Remember what we talked about." 

 Somehow, infuriatingly, Dinah’s brain chose that moment to short-circuit, and at Amina’s raised eyebrows Dinah could only blink - rather stupidly, it felt. "What did we talk about?" 

 "When you were slapping water," Amina said, shaking her head in faint exasperation. "I told you it was about one thing. Control. Watch." 

 And watch Dinah did, eyes widened as Amina swiped the bow from her and shot an arrow at the target with such speed that even she seemed to be shocked when it landed on the bullseye. 

 Wow, that's hot, Dinah thought, and only when Amina burst out laughing did Dinah realise she had said that aloud. 

 Shit. For a moment Dinah was sure her heart had thudded to an absolute halt, and when Amina ducked her head in what Dinah could only perceive as embarrassment, Dinah could feel her cheeks heat up. With her tongue trying and failing to find the right words, Dinah spluttered, blinking rapidly, not sure whether to be reassured at the sparkle of amusement in Amina’s eyes as she regarded Dinah.

 "Thank you?" she said with only a touch of uncertainty, but that was enough to make Dinah clam up instantly, extinguishing the flicker of relief Dinah had had seconds earlier. 

 "Sorry," Dinah muttered. "I - didn't think -" 

 "Dinah," Amina interrupted, "why are you even apologising? It's not like you said anything bad." 

 "No, it's not that," Dinah answered. "I know it's not bad, I just -" But Dinah couldn't quite put her finger on what was bothering her, because Amina was right. Dinah knew that much. 

 It was like Amina read her mind, because she then set down the bow and sat cross-legged on the grass. When Dinah looked down curiously (they were technically still training, after all), Amina wordlessly held out her hand; almost instinctively, Dinah took it and let her best friend pull her down to her level, so she too was on the grass. 

 There was silence for a moment, as Dinah found it in her to meet her best friend's eyes. It was only then that Amina spoke. 

 "Did I… do something wrong?" Amina asked after a moment. Her easy smile was gone, replaced with a worried expression, lips pressed together after she spoke, as if on the very edge of a grimace. 

 "What?" Dinah said, nonplussed for a second, but then recognising the concerned look on Amina's face. 

 (Sometimes she forgot she had anyone to worry about her.) 

 Amina shifted where she was sitting, leaning against Dinah a little as she stretched her legs and leaned back, palms against the grass. And maybe it was the heat, but as Amina looked up at the cloudless blue sky, Dinah couldn't help gazing at her profile, the reddish tint of the sun visible as her dark hair swung back, and the sharpness of her cheekbones catching the sunlight at all the right angles. Amina was thinking, and even now when Dinah was practically busted - she couldn't stop admiring Amina even if she wanted to. "Ever since you came out at school… I don't know. You seem - I'm just used to you wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know. Within reach. And now I can't see it or touch it. I get the feeling you've closed yourself off a bit. Even when you're trying to act normal, like nothing has changed with you. And I just want to know if it's something I said, or did, because -"

 "No," Dinah cut across her firmly. "Never. Out of everyone, you're the one girl who hasn't automatically assumed I like you." 

 "You don't like me?" Amina said, and Dinah automatically relaxed, relieved that almost of their own accord they were back to their usual banter. As usual, Amina tried and failed to sound affronted, and as usual, Dinah smiled and shook her head. 

 "Not even a little." Dinah saw her smile returned on Amina's lips - but Dinah knew it wouldn't last forever. At some point she'd break. Especially when Amina looked serious again. 

 "For real, though - is that what everyone said? That being gay means you must have a crush on every girl with a pulse?" 

 Dinah wasn't sure why she was holding back her wince, but she was - there was something about Amina that made her want to be strong around her. So Dinah just shrugged. "Something like that." Then, before she could stop herself, she added, "And the boys weren't much better - they would be like, 'that's hot, can I watch?'" 

 Amina visibly recoiled at that. "Ugh. People are so shitty. I'm sorry, Dinah." 

 "Don't be. You were the one exception to that," Dinah told her, and maybe her heart slowed a little knowing that she meant it. 

 "But you do think I'm hot," Amina said, and it was less of a question, Dinah thought, more a statement of fact. Yet it was said with a smile and somehow it calmed Dinah a little more. 

 "I shouldn't have said that. That would just prove everyone right - that I want to kiss every girl in arm's reach of me." 

 Dinah thought of what she'd done after gym class yesterday, when she had hidden in the bathroom for half an hour after class. She'd heard muttering behind her back about what gays liked to do in the locker room, and something inside her had just snapped. 

 "Do you? Want to kiss every girl in Central City?"

 Sighing, Dinah stretched out her legs and lay back, looking up at the sky to avoid Amina's gaze. "No," Dinah said, being truthful for the first time. "Just one. But I don't think she'd want to kiss me back." 

 She shut her eyes, finding the sun too bright even outside her line of vision, but grateful for the ready excuse for her rosy cheeks. 

 Dinah felt the gentle tug at her shoulders first. She tensed for a moment, before automatically relaxing into Amina's familiar touch, as her best friend pulled her back a couple inches until Dinah's head rested against Amina's lap.

 She had maybe five seconds, as Amina waited, as if expecting Dinah to object, but this didn't feel real. This felt like a dream, the two of them together, and in all the times Amina had appeared in her dreams, Dinah had never hesitated nor objected to Amina's touch. 

 So the fingertips touching Dinah’s jaw felt dreamlike too, just like Amina's hand cradling Dinah's cheek from above, and the way her hair fell to brush softly against Dinah's neck. 

 But the whisper of breath on Dinah's nose - that felt real. So too were Amina's lips, a hundred times more gentle than Dinah had imagined, and the quick dart of her tongue, sweeter than even Dinah's wildest dreams - but that taste was fleeting, before all at once Dinah came crashing down to earth. Her eyes fluttered open, and somehow, miraculously, Amina's beautiful face was peering back at her. Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, and then a flash of worry. 

 "Amina -" Dinah began to say, just as her friend said "Dinah," and they both let out a nervous chuckle. "You go first," Dinah said. 

 Twirling her hair with her finger, Amina said, "I was going to say 'maybe the girl you wanna kiss might get there first… but now I'm wondering if you meant someone else." 

 Relief, sweet and warm and comforting, blanketed Dinah so completely that she was sure for a moment she forgot how to breathe. Giving herself a moment to right herself, Dinah sat up, the smile on her face threatening to split her face in two. She reached out, like she'd always wanted to, and tucked several runaway strands of hair behind Amina's ear.

 "No one else," Dinah told her softly. "There's only ever been you." 

 "Good," Amina whispered back. "I have a feeling jealousy wouldn't be a good look on me." They shared a laugh, and then Amina said, "So… aren't you going to ask me?" 

 "Ask you what?" 

 "What I am. Gay, straight, bi, pan -" 

 "I don't need to know. I know the only thing that matters." Dinah paused, running her thumb down Amina's cheek and stopping just short of her chin. 

 Amina closed her eyes at her touch, again in the way Dinah had only ever dreamed of. But then she opened them again, meeting her gaze and quirking an eyebrow. "Well? Don't keep me in suspense, Dinah Lance." 

 It took several moments and deep breaths for Dinah to say what she wanted to. "I know that I love you." Amina opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again, and Dinah couldn't resist leaning in and kissing her this time. It was less fleeting this time, filled with the promise of so many more. "And I know that you don't hate me for it."

 "Never. I could never hate you. Not when I love you back." 

[applepiewinchesters]

Lockdown (Malcolm Bright x Reader)

 REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You hadn’t stopped pacing Gil’s office for the last twenty minutes. Jessica had joined you in the office about ten minutes ago, she and Gil had a little argument and now they were both watching you.

“He’s going to be fine kid,” Gil told you, breaking the silence.

“What if he’s not?” you said, suddenly stopping your incessant pacing. “What if that Tevin guy gets in there? What if Martin…”

You trailed off, not even wanting to think about that, Martin Whitly may have been a heartless killer, but you’d hoped he had enough conscious not to try and murder his own children.

“Malcolm’s a smart guy Y/N, you know that,” Gil reassured.

“Not when he’s with his father, he’s told me what Martin can do, he break you down, make you believe anything he tells you,” you said, you were practically shaking with anxiety.

“Martin won’t get to him,” Jessica spoke up, “my son is smarter than that.”

You only sighed, finally collapsing into one of the chairs across from Gil’s desk, putting your head in your hands.

Gil came over and put a comforting hand on your shoulder, “The SWAT team and medics are almost there, it will be okay.”

You tried to believe him, but every single worst scenario was running through your mind. Tevin attacking Malcolm, Martin snapping, hurting everyone, Malcolm being wheeled out in a body bag.

Mentally smacking yourself, you tried to get these images out of your mind. When Gil’s phone rang a few seconds later your head shot up, Gil quickly answered, “Malcolm? Everything alright?” he asked.

Malcolm said something you couldn’t hear before Gil said, “Alright, I’m bringing your mother and Y/N, we’ll be there soon.”

Gil hung up and you practically leaped from your chair, grabbing your coat and purse, “Is he okay? Are they okay?” you asked.

“Everyone is fine, Jin, the cameraman, was stabbed, but he’s stable,” Gil explained, “Let’s go.”

He motioned for you and Jessica to follow him, which you both did. A bit of relief flooded through you, but you wouldn’t completely calm down until you saw Malcolm.

You were now more worried about his mental state than anything, who knows what Martin could have said to him.

The three of you climbed into Gil’s car and he raced to the scene, sirens, lights and all.

You jumped out of the car before it completely stopped, there were firetrucks, police officers and paramedics everywhere. Maybe it had been worse than you thought.

Jessica caught sight of Ainsley coming out of the building, following the paramedics pushing Jin’s stretcher.

“Ainsley!” Jessica shouted, quickly running to her daughter.

The two embraced, and while you wanted them to have their moment, you were more worried about the other sibling, who was still nowhere to be seen.

“Ains, where’s Malcolm?” you asked quickly.

“Inside, talking to the police,” she told you, you nodded, hurrying into the door she’d just exited.

Police and hospital staff were gathered in the hall, you pushed past, trying to spot your boyfriend. You finally did, he was at the end of the hall talking with a man you recognized as David, Martin’s guard.

When David walked away you pushed through the rest of the people around you, “Malcolm!” you called.

His head snapped up, meeting your gaze, he didn’t get to say anything before you slammed into him, wrapping your arms around him tightly, pulling him to you.

Malcolm’s own arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly, “I’m okay,” he spoke softly.

“You scared the shit out of me, you weren’t answering your phone,” you said, wanting to punch him and kiss him all at the same time.

“I know, I know,” Malcolm said, the guilt obvious in his tone.

When you pulled away from him you frowned, you could see the fear and anxiety in his eyes, he was probably still freaking out.

“Are you okay?” you asked, reaching up to cup his cheek in your hand.

He gave you a tired smile, “I will be, nothing I can’t handle.”

You held back a laugh, “Let’s go home okay?”

“I’ve got to go to the station, fill some stuff out,” Malcolm said, trying to make an excuse.

You shook your head, “No, you can do that tomorrow, tonight you’re coming home, your mom already got us a car.”

“Of course, she has,” Malcolm grumbled as you pulled him from the building.

After reassuring his mom, Gil, and a few worried paramedics that he was okay, you both climbed into the waiting car, both ready to go home.

When you got back to the loft you thanked the driver and headed inside. It was then that you noticed the blood staining Malcolm’s hands and front of his jacket.

“Well, that’s another jacket gone,” you said, motioning to his front.

Malcolm went through jackets, suits, shirts, pants, you name it, like wildfire. Malcolm has probably stained half his wardrobe with dirt, blood, and other things that come along with being a profiler.

Looking down, Malcolm chuckled, “Not mine this time,” he told you, pulling off his jacket.

You walked over, taking the bloodied jacket and throwing it on the counter, “Better not be,” you said, reaching up to help him with his tie.

“I can undress myself,” Malcolm told you, watching your movements.

“It’s more fun when I do it,” you smirked, making Malcolm laugh and lean down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

Once you’d helped him out of the bloodied shirt he was wearing, you pushed him towards the bathroom, “Go shower, I’ll heat up some leftovers,” you told him.

He nodded, heading to the bathroom and shutting the door. You took off your shoes and coat, tossing them onto the counter with Malcolm’s ruined clothes.

Next you went to the bedroom, putting on some sweatpants and one of Malcolm’s old Harvard t-shirts, throwing your hair into a ponytail you headed back into the kitchen, grabbing the leftover lasagna you’d made a few nights ago from the fridge.

You heaped some of the food onto two plates, making sure to give Malcolm a bit more than you, you knew he’d eat it all if you were there, he never neglected his health when you were watching.

Both plates of food were warmed up by the time Malcolm got out of the shower and put on some pajamas himself.

You carried the food to the couch, passing his plate to him when you both sat down. Turning in your seat you placed your feet on Malcolm’s lap and he gladly used your legs as a small table.

The improvised dinner was quiet, and Malcolm picked at his food more than he ate it.

“Not hungry?” you asked once you’d finished your food and set your plate on the coffee table.

Malcolm shook his head, giving you a sheepish smile, “Long day,” he told you, setting his half-eaten plate of food next to yours on the table.

You weren’t going to argue with him, it had been a crazy day. Who knows what really went on in that lockdown.

“Want to talk about it?” you asked. Malcolm thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“Tomorrow, I promise,” he said, you nodded, respecting his wishes.

Malcolm reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling you onto his lap, “Right now, I just want to spend time with you, I owe you after the near heart attack you more than likely had today.”

You laughed, nodding, “If Gil hadn’t been there I probably would’ve marched into that hospital myself.”

“I know,” Malcolm said, “and that is why I thank whatever God there might be that he’s there to stop us both from being stupid…most of the time.”

“He probably got all that gray hair from you,” you joked, making Malcolm’s smile widen.

“I should give him more credit,” Malcolm told you.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder, Malcolm wrapped his arms around you, resting his cheek on your head.

Both of you just sat, enjoying the other’s company, the familiar smell of Malcolm’s body wash was comforting, and you felt as though you could relax for the first time in a while.

Something big was coming, you could feel it, Gil had told you about the serial killer they discovered and how they might be related to The Surgeon, Malcolm could be on this case for months.

But right now, you had Malcolm there, he was okay, and that was all that mattered.

A/N: Had to write a fic about tonight’s episode, maybe I’ll write one that’s more angsty as well. Hope you liked this one though. Requests are open and thank you for all the love! Also, please let me know if you find any errors, it’s a bit late where I am plus I am tired lol, thank you. ~ Sara :)

[beelsfeels]

A profile of my Obey Me OC, Shoshi! (Pronounced like Yoshi)

Picrew 1 Picrew 2

Name: Shoshi (short for Shoshana)

Age: 27

Pronouns: She/They

Sexuality: Bi

Height: 5′6″

Background: raised Jewish, got into Jewish Mysticism as an adult, began worshiping Lilith, and has Lilith's sigil tattooed beneath her bellybutton. She feels VERY awkward about it in the House of Lamentation.

Random HC: Namaah exists at RAD and is a totally hottie BAMF that Shoshi has a Huge Gay Crush on, to the point she can't really form cohesive thoughts around her, a fact that Satan and Asmodeus love to team up and exploit for the LOLs.

Summary: Horny-For-Yall Death-Wish with Crippling Anxiety. Copes with humor and memes. The ultimate self-insert.

Relationships with the brothers:

Lucifer:

- Shoshi and Lucy have a very complex relationship, she both admires and is intimidated by the eldest.

- Shoshi is a huge brat and it gets her in trouble a LOT with Lucifer. He goes easy on her though, which is good because her anxiety skyrockets when this man get That Look™️ when anyone is acting up.

- When Lucifer tried to intimidate her at Diavolo's weekend retreat while dancing, Shoshi straight up cussed him out and stormed off to the balcony to angry cry.

- Eventually had an argument so heated she wasn't sure if she was about to be murdered or have the best sex of her life.

- it was the latter

- they started casually dating after that, and Shoshi would often stay up late with Lucifer to keep him company while he does paperwork.

- Lucifer is very protective of her, and often walks her to each of her classes, a hand on her lower back. This draws many stares from the other students and becomes harder for her to make friends outside of the HoL.

- HC that Lucifer teaches one of her classes and she can NOT pay attention which earns her lots of after class "punishments"

- listen up, Morningstar

- "What did you just call me?"

- ::books it at high velocity towards wherever Diavolo is::

Mammon:

- Shoshi is his Ride or Die (Ride AND die more like) best friend.

- will destroy anyone who talks crap on the 2nd eldest.

- maybe a tiny human but WILL throw hands for his honor

- always ends in Mammon having to save her which is counterintuitive

- they share one (1) braincell when they are together and it's full of the literal worst ideas.

- snuggle buddies, Mammon won't admit he likes her out loud but will end up in her room Every Night that Lucifer hasn't already sanctioned her time.

- Jealous of her relationships with every other brother, but will tolerated a three way spoon with Beel since he's a walking teddy bear.

- "after this hare brained scheme we will have enough money to buy you a bigger bed"

- they never do

- invented a silent eye contact language for when Lucifer is lecturing them for hours about how irresponsible they have been.

Leviathan

-Leviachan! ::Jump hugs him::

-"Shoshi!! You can't just hug me without warning!"

-Levi is always having a heart attack around Shoshi either because she's flirting with him or she's absolutely crushing him at video games

-Shoshi would literally die for this boy, is absolutely in love with this Otaku king.

-she thinks it is unrequited until one night she's crushing him too hard at Mario Kart and he finds ways to... Distract her.

-Shoshi will protect Levi at all costs and he REALLY doesn't need her to, why does this human think she can take on everyone she's so bad at fighting.

-what that tail do?

-"please stop asking me that"

Satan

-fast burn enemies to lovers

-Satan does not appriciate Shoshi's humor, as it relates to him.

-"Shosh, do you want to study together tonight?"

-Not Today, Satan

-"Shoshi I brought you your homework"

-Hail Satan!

-Turns into her closest confidant

-lots of book reading, philosophical conversations, and wine nights

-Got Satan to join her in her morning yoga rituals to help with his wrath problem

-Loves going on dates with Satan, he's so upfront and honest, though not as affectionate as she would like

-she respects his personal space

-he lectures her on her "death wish" for all the times she says "fight me" unless it's to Lucifer then he buys her a new book or hands her a kitten he happened to have on hand.

-cat memes back and forth 24/7

-Her actual "first demon" 😉

-"You little brat" (that is a threat)

-she loves it

Asmodeus

- gossip girls

- weekly bath night, bubble bath, face masks, painting each other's nails

- Asmo gives her all the latest DevilDom gossip, and even when it's about people she doesn't know at all she will still chug that tea

- casual nakedness, don't pop into one of their hangouts if you're not ready for an eyeful

- Satan learned that the hard way

- Beel also did, but didn't mind as much

- has to literally put a ward on the door to keep Mammon from busting into Asmos room and dragging Shoshi out

- "no older brothers allowed" sign on the door.

- sneaks out to go clubbing, Shoshi doesn't drink much but she LOVES to dance

- "describe Lucifers abs to me, do not leave out any details"

- ASmo No! i don't want to die over some glorious abs!

- "excuse you, what would be a better way to die than that??"

- also has a secret language for when Lucifer lectures them, but it involves mostly puppy dog eyes and trying to guilt Lucifer into forgiving them

- has never worked once

Beel

- the most dramatic friendship 180 in the history of the DevilDom

- Shoshi thought he was an anger issues Jock who punches walls and threatens to eat her

- Well cannibal serial killers have stated on record that humans with tattoos don't taste that good so you probably shouldn't eat me

- can't believe that worked

- staying in his room after the kitchen incident and cuddling with him in bed, talking about the loss of their sisters, and how important family was, she realizes he was a soft boi that needed protected

- that night beel became her second demon 😉

- Shoshi loves cooking, so they cook together a lot, helping each other when they're in charge of meals

- Shoshi starts a vegetable and fruit garden outside the house of lamentation, teaching Beel how to grow food, which he takes to very well (after a few casualties of fully eaten tomato plants)

- this significantly helps the fridge situation at HoL, which all are grateful for

- the fridge checks, while occaisionally sexy, mostly actually involve Shoshi jumping at Beel to see if he will catch her (Brooklyn 99 gag style)

- "Beels what's your T-Shirt made of? Cause it feels like husband material"

- "oh, I think it's a demon cotton blend"

- I love you, my sweet Himbo.

Belphie

-Belphi take me to Majolish

-"No, I'm tired."

-Remember that one time you literally killed me

-"okay I'll be there in 5"

-Shoshi is the only one who could possibly out nap Belphie

-Beel/Belphie/ Shoshi cuddle puddles and snack nights.

-rarely hangs out with him alone because he did, in fact, murder her once

-They leave each other super soft pillows without notes or any context and it has turned into a rivalry to find the BEST pillow. Winner gets bragging and napping rights.

BONUS:

Diavolo

- You're my Dad! Boogie woogie woogie

- teaches him all the latest memes and dances

- No fear for this man, which disturbs and upsets pretty much everyone.

- one time Lucifer asked Shoshi to Please Stop asking the Prince of Demons for piggy back rides

- Shoshi told on Lucifer and in fact got MORE piggy back rides.

- They have Lucifer Imitation contests where they just say "Don't Dissapoint Diavolo" back and forth till one of them cracks up.

- Did not anticipate any sexy business with this Goliath Friend, but caught Luci and him smooching one time and one thing lead to another...

- Did not change their friendship at all, the Two Most Immature People In The Entire DevilDom

Solomon

- ::stranger danger siren goes off::

- I don't trust you Wizard boy

- Asmo said you can have a little rights, but you're on thin fucking Ice mister

- oh you got 72 demons? It'd be cooler if they were cats and dogs.

- only teams up with him for kareoke nights and other human themed activities because no one else understands

Things Shoshi has said without context:

"Why does everyone in this house have bigger titties than me"

"Lucifer took his gloves off and I almost passed out"

"I'm from the United States of America in the year of our Lord 2020, you can not scare me"

"It really do be YEET or be YEETED in this house, huh?"

"Mammon if you even look at that cat wrong I will round house kick you into the next century and claim my rightful place as second oldest"

[wakandaking-freelandprince]

Ok, it's STORYTIME!!!!!

On this first episode of racism with JWG we flashback to the spring of 2007! My first dual encounter of a mystery Karen AND racial profiling. Let's go!

Nearing the end of our high school careers my 3 best friends and I were doing a usual friday night hangout. The "fearsome foursome" included Nikita, Quise, Tera and myself.

We all performed together in a semi professional group called The Youngstown connection. It promoted peace , love and brotherhood in the inner city. We performed nationally and internationally as "good will embassadors" on a professional scale. From Macy's day parade, to Governor's balls, concert tours in China to local nursing homes lol

We all went to different high schools but I was tasked with choreographing the ALL CITY CHOIR CONCERT that year. The first student to ever do it. So naturally I had the fearsome foursome help me out! After hanging out at Nikki's house for a bit we decided we wanted to go get shamrock shakes at our local McDonald's before the season was over. So Tera drove us to said McDonald's to get our milky, minty treats. This McDonalds was located one street over into suburban territory. No longer dark inner city Youngstown, Ohio but bright white Boardman, Ohio.

After ordering, we decided to finish our meals in the parking lot before leaving. That way Tera didn't have to eat and drive. And we needed to be out the house for a little longer. So we sat in the car, laughing, talking, SINGING. Doing all of our usual 18 year old shenanigans. All while enjoying our delicious milkshakes and cheeseburgers. (What I would give to have that metabolism back.)

I distinctly remember us making fun of the the musical arrangement of "Hero" by Mariah Carey when suddenly a cop car sped into the parking lot and pulled up diagonally behind our vehicle with sirens and lights blaring. "🗣EVERYONE KEEP YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" -we all heard a loud voice yell. "DO NOT REACH FOR ANYTHING. I WANT TO SEE YOUR HANDS AT ALL TIMES!"

Poor Tera instantly burst into tears. You see Tera was the only white girl in our friend circle but ironically Tera had a deathly fear of the police. Growing up in the inner city, she saw EXACTLY how we were treated. And because she truly is color blind, she feared for her life and our's.

I was sitting in the passenger seat. Quise and Nikki were in the rear. Before the policemen approached we attempted to calm Tera and remind her she had done nothing wrong. "Tera you cannot sob in a car full of black people, they will think we kidnapped you!" ... I joked, but we all knew I was serious. Nikki urged Quise and I to not "act up" because she could already tell ... we were over it. A classic case of being black on a friday night in a white area.

The officers approached the cars. A blinding light kept me from being able to see. As my eyes focused I saw an officer staring back at me. One hand on his gun the other on his flashlight that was currently burning through my retinas and back thru time into my toddler years. After circling the car they approached Tera at the driver's side window. She nervously rolled down the window trying to keep the tears in her head. "Yes, officer?" Tera said. "What are you all doing?" The officer said. "Clearly eating McDonalds" I quickly replied. Which VERY MUCH upset Tera. "Well we have reason to believe you've been drinking and we know you are all underage." The officer begins shining his light on Quise and Nikki in the backseat. "What drugs do you have on you?" Eventhough he was not asking Tera she immediately spoke up. "Officer I swear to you we have had nothing in this car except milkshakes and cheeseburgers. You can even search the car!" ... now I side-eyed that hard because I had become very well acquainted with the shady dealings of some of the cops in our area.

The second officer came to my window. And asked for my I.D. "How do you all know eachother?" ... now that's an odd question to ask for teenagers on a weekend. But I answered, "Some of us have gone to school together and we all perform together in to the Youngstown Connection." He looked me up and down. Then he slowly hands me back my ID. "So do I need to take a breath-a-lizer test or something?" I happily inquired. "Watch your mouth kid." Officer Big Pants replied as Tera angrily whispered at me "Please stop."

I later came to realize that it was Tera's fear, Tera's skin and the mention of The Youngstown Connection that kept us safe. And that situation could've ended differently if even one variable was missing.

The officers never told us who gave a report of the "wild teens drinking and vandalizing the McDonald's parking lot" or why they felt they needed to secure their weapons to handle teenagers at a McDonald's. But I will never forget the look the last officer gave Tera before he asked her "Are you sure you're alright?" ... "Yes sir, I assure you everything is fine. We are going straight home." He looked the three of us over once more ... "alright stay out of trouble." .... oooo it burned me up! And if Tera had not seized the opportunity and quickly drove off, I probably would've made a very poor decision to confront those cops on how they handled us.

I can not speak for my three friends but every single moment of this experience is etched in my mind. I was very bold and unafraid of the policeman at the time, which was out of character for me back then. But by the time I was 18 I had seen and experienced so much racism and police brutality that I had refused to let it beat me up. Unfortunately this is the most mild racial incident I have ever experienced.

That's all for episode one! Stay tuned for the next episode of Racism with JWG!

[astroiarium]

━━☆⌒*.박채영 /  Rosé’s Birth Chart Analysis

Rosé is Blackpink’s resident vocalist and lead dancer but as it turns out, her unique voice and charming personality reveal a soul that is more than the eye can see. 

☆ These are my interpretations of the inner planets in her chart. It may be different from other's interpretations but is still valid as everyone has different takes on birth charts. This does not strictly represent who this person is as birth charts are just indications of who a person might be, so feel free to take this with a grain of salt. ☆

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Rosé of BLΛƆKPIИK

Position: Main Vocalist, lead dancer

Born on: February 11, 1997

Birthplace: Auckland, New Zealand

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・ 

Sun in Aquarius (22°), Mercury in Aquarius (2 °), Venus in Aquarius (9 °)

I decided to group all three planets together to flow easily from one placement to the next. In a nutshell, she acts, talks, and loves like an Aquarius! Rosé’s chart forms a beautiful cradle shape with Aquarius, Aries, and Libra dominating her inner planets. The mix of fire and air elements create a great conversationalist who always stands up for what they believe is right. 

Starting with her sun in Aquarius, Rosé is someone who naturally stands out from the crowd. I have no doubt she was a popular girl in her high school years. Aquarius natives exude mystery. At first glance, they seem like they aren’t truly there. Their physical body may be present but in their mind, they are in a separate plane of existence entirely. And that’s exactly what makes people fall for them. For Rosé, it’s easy for me to tell what made her my Blackpink bias. She fits my preppy happy go lucky girl who at first seems shy, but once they’re comfortable their high energy is off the charts.

It used to be that she was labeled as Blackpink’s quietest member according to her profile. But as seen from their reality show, she could rival Lisa’s boisterous Arian energy! Aquarian natives are exactly like this. They are sociable but at the same time, detached from the world around them. This air element would make Rosé opinionated as well. She would most likely enjoy activities such as debating, which require intrapersonal skills as well as critical thinking and logic. These people value knowledge. They view others as sources of this as they like the idea of different perspectives. This means they most likely have big friend groups from all walks of life. Rosé is, of course, no exception to this. With her Aquarius sun being in the second decan, this would give rulership to Mercury which indicates natural-born social skills. Her friends from idol groups all around serve as proof. There are also times where her Arian moon gives her bursts of spontaneity to just casually strike a conversation with someone she deems interesting. You will find that Rosé is an easy person to converse with as she is the right amount of comical and earnest especially in topics she takes interest in. She adores unconventional themes that affect how others see her as a person. As a singer, her individualistic nature is expressed in her unique vocal timbre. She’s been praised many times in the industry for this such as when critic Almira Blancada remarked that “You would know it’s Rosé singing in a heartbeat.” For many, this is her most appealing feature. You will feel drawn to her voice which could be compared to that of a siren’s. 

“More of you, less of me” -  Rosé’s favorite phrase.

So much Aquarius influence in her chart will conjure unorthodox ideas in her head. Rosé’s definitely one to think outside of the box and look at things from a different perspective. As mentioned earlier, her natural-born social skills are an advantage to help her gain knowledge through the people she interacts with. Like a sponge, she soaks up ideas, thoughts, and beliefs of the people around her. But a downside to this is that she may find difficulty in defining her own beliefs and morals, so it is constantly changing. To make up for this, she practices a strict religion. It is a known fact that Rosé is a Christian who regularly attends mass. In her youth, she has also sung choir for school so there is a possibility that she was raised in this religion. This gives me the feeling that she’s been taught all her life to tone down her Aquarian nature to be different and instead conform to traditional practices. Not to worry, there are still other ways in which this Aquarius influence can manifest. She is musically inclined so she expresses herself through her craft with ease. She would most likely take interest in the field of humanities and social sciences. And with her Aquarius in Mercury, she will openly discuss those topics with other people. She is an idealist to a fault and likes to voice her concerns with the world in its current state. Since Mercury is home to the air element, she will have no trouble vocalizing her inner thoughts. But there is still a drawback to this. Even though ideas come to her easily, they will come in bulk. The difficulty will present itself in trying to vocalize all of them clearly and concisely. There will be times when her expression rubs people the wrong way. Despite her intentions being pure, the delivery might be way off which is a factor essential to communication. As a result, she will appear scatter-brained or insensitive. Aquarians need mental stimuli like they need air lol. There is a primal instinct to question the status quo for her and ask thought-provoking questions. Since this planet deals with communication, some topics she brings up may not be taken lightly as she would. Of course, Rosé has probably resolved this by conversing only with people who share the same thought pattern and ideas as her. A developed Aquarius in Mercury heightens the impact of her words which she can weaponize if deemed necessary.

An Aquarius in Venus falling in love is a wonder to everyone else so to speak. They are scared of the idea of love and commitment yet when they’re in love, they’re completely lovesick. Venus in Aquarius is vague when communicating their love calls. You think they like you but only after you've decided to "return the feelings" they'll say they only see you as a friend. Or in its antithesis, they might really like you but you’ll only find out long after they’ve moved on when they mention it randomly in a conversation. You can still pick up the subtle nuances of an Aquarian in love. They adore individuality and point it out in conversations with someone that has caught their eye. They will like talking to this person in general and look forward to forming a strong mental connection with them. They’re flirty with everyone but this person will have the honor to see the vulnerable parts Aquarius hides behind the extroverted exterior if they play their cards right. Those who naturally stand out appeal to a Venus in Aquarius the most. Rosé’s ideal type being someone nice, genuine and with a nice voice specifically confirms this.

Being in a relationship with Rosé will be a love comprising of late nights talking about the universe and purpose in life. Aquarius is a fixed sign, they are stubborn and astute in just about everything. When it comes to love, she will become blinded by a devotion without question and it seems that’s why they find the concept of love so scary. She won't be possessive and understands her partner will need time for themself. She will speak to them in a way only the two of them will understand. A secret love language if you will. This lucky person will be present in the planning of her future and with her moon in Aries, she’ll take on the challenge of making it her present.

Moon in Aries (10 °)

Rosé’s Arian moon gives her a sense of impulsivity. Fire moons feel with their whole body. They have profound emotions that have to be addressed immediately and can’t be kept bottled inside. Because of this, Rosé is a sensitive person who can cry easily at the first cause of frustration. She likes the idea of communicating her concerns and insecurities to people but finds it hard to when actually put on the spot. Deep down there is a lingering feeling of not being good enough and so she tries to excel in everything. A con for this placement is that it’s a self-serving one. While in a healthy amount, this might seem like a positive  seeing as Rosé would be more in tune with her emotional self. It will become negative when she allows herself to react before thinking rationally. This will lead to her exploding in an argument say things she doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment. This can still apply to a casual conversation as well when she unwittingly says something that provokes the other person. This placement projects out of her when the need arises and overwhelms her Aquarius sun in outbursts of intense emotions. Aries is the first of the zodiac signs which gives a childlike naivety to Rosé's subconscious. This makes her adore instant gratification. If she wants something she has to get it, no matter what stands in her way. No matter who stands in her way. Aries moons can be competitive as well. To her, if all of it were for nothing, then what’s the point? This is what she keeps in mind when faced with a challenge that tempts her, which is what sets her apart from the impetuousness of a Sagittarius. On the other hand, this is what enables her to just be herself. Aries dislike being told what to do. They lead, not follow. In Rosé’s case, her Aquarius sun tells her to stand out and her Aries moon tells her to embrace it even if she gets called weird. This fiery element in her core also empowers her to take big risks—like auditioning for a big company like YG entertainment at the age of 15. Although she initially thought her father’s prompt for her to do it was just a joke seeing the difficulties in becoming a K-pop idol, she still went ahead and did it anyway. And if that doesn’t explain the sheer drive of an Aries, I don’t know what will. She dislikes the idea of limitation but whether or not she likes it, some things just won’t go her way. I noticed she also needs physical stimuli, which manifests in habits such as biting her fingers when no one is looking which she admits to doing.

Mars in Libra (5 °)

Libra is in detriment in Mars. This basically means that this sign isn’t comfortable in this planet and doing things related to what it governs, which for Mars is passion, assertion, and separation. Libra’s planet of rulership is Venus, which is the exact opposite of this planet. Because Mars is a malefic planet, it urges the natives to do actions according to what this planet represents. In Rosé’s case, she just goes about it the Libra way. The typical Libra characteristics are that they are the peacemakers and hopeless romantics. They go about life in a way that their aspirations are larger than life but then they don’t put in the effort to attain them and just expect it to fall on their lap (not unlike a Pisces.) This gives me the impression that with this placement, Rosé has a side of her which makes her lack motivation to set and accomplish practical goals. As I previously mentioned earlier, what started as just a simple joke auditioning for one of the biggest entertainment companies led her to her path of stardom. If she didn’t have her impulsive Aries moon to empower her to believe in her talents on that particular day, then maybe she wouldn’t even be a part of Blackpink today! In everyday life, Libras avoid confrontation by all accounts. Unfortunately, Mars is also a planet of war and conflict as in Greek Myths, its counterpart is the war god Ares. As you can tell, this makes Rosé secretly like stirring the pot and she does it without thinking. This manifests in taking the opposing side in discussions and bringing up controversial topics. Although Libras are already known to love drama without outright expressing it, this placement basically confirms it. Without a strong Venus to create an equilibrium between these two planets, this may strongly affect her temperament in a way that her Aries moon will.

All in all, Rosé’s chart tells me that the stars have aligned at just the right moment at the time of this wonderful girl’s birth. She embodies the true Aquarian through and through for all the good they are known for. She has the fiery core of an Aries that manages to leap out of her in just the right moments. She is someone who wants and deserves a lot of love so please give it to her! She just wants to make the world a better place :( Rosé has always had a penchant for singing and her unique voice just gives her all the more right to do it. She is one to strike inspiration in others for this and she knows it and I hope she embraces her talents fully and unwaveringly. This is why she is Blackpink’s main vocalist without a doubt. Beyond that, she is a girl with a powerful mind and a voice that speaks for it accordingly. 

    ∧＿∧ （｡･ω･｡)つ━☆・*。 ⊂　　 ノ 　　　・゜+. しーＪ　　　°。+ *´¨) 　　.· ´¸.·*´¨) ¸.·*¨) (¸.·´ (¸.·’* ⛧