#looking at pet names and fighting the urge to just have her call the big kitty 'duchess' HJSDJHHJDJHDFHJDSF

[n1ghtwarden]

thinking abt minth and her displacer beast pet whats up

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: the dancer and the angel part 2

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: lyra kane is closer to your boyfriend than ever seen as grayson has just been put of her team in the grandest game and it’s making you a little nervous, you don’t trust her and you don’t want her too close to him

parts: part 1 part 3

warnings: mild swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG

a/n: I had quite a few requests for a part 2, so here she is… trying to get into my productive era right now (fake it till you make it right??)

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234

RECAP

“Whose team is he on?” I say quickly.

“Odette Morales and Lyra Kane.”

***

Lyra Kane. Lyra Kane. Lyra Kane. The name rattles around my brain, echoing off of my skull, only to replay in my mind again. Of course it just has to be Lyra Kane that he’s on a team with. That breathtaking woman with beauty that shouldn’t be possible for a human. Yeah, that Lyra Kane. I feel like laughing and crying all at the same time, so I express nothing instead. Why did it have to be her? Out of all of the players.

I’m not jealous, I try to convince myself, I’m just concerned. Yes, that’s it. Except it isn’t and the only person I’m lying to is pathetic little old me. I am ferociously jealous. It scolds me torturously, raging from the pit of my stomach, crawling under my skin to settle comfortably.

Grayson loves me, I know this. I felt the kisses we’d shared on the beach moments before he’d gone into the stupid house. They still linger on my lips now, I could taste him slightly, I’d heard him say he loved me, only me and yet I can’t get the feeling out of my system. The jealousy always manages to seep its way back in. I’m sick with a disease called envy.

I don’t want to be the jealous girl, the possessive one that people roll their eyes at or avoid. That’s not me. I didn’t want it to be me. But deep down I’m petrified that that’s who I’m becoming. I sigh, realising I was just going to have to swallow it. What could I do about it now? Besides I know Grayson, I trust Grayson. He wouldn’t let her try anything on, would he?

***

Hours of waiting and not watching. We couldn’t see the players at all. Or hear them. Anxiety is killing me slowly from the inside out, gnawing happily at my organs. I spin the ring on my middle finger as my leg jigs up and down, counting down the seconds until sunrise, four-thousand one-hundred and eight-two to go.

“You know you don’t have to look so panicked all the time,” Nash sighs, slumping down beside me.

“I’m not panicked,” I say, forcing a laugh.

“Sure darlin’,” he says, “my name’s Roger and I have a pet turtle.”

I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to smile, “I mean it, I’m fine.”

“It’s completely safe in there, we designed it that way,” he explains slowly, soothingly, “no one’s going to get hurt and there’s an emergency button just in case.”

“Okay,” I nod, exhaling.

I don’t believe him and his words don’t offer me much comfort. My overthinking brain is currently listing all of the ways Grayson could possibly die in the next ten minutes. But Nash is trying and I’m thankful to have him.

“At least pretend you’re convinced,” he drawls, a twinkle in his eyes.

Maybe I’m not convinced that everything’s going to be fine but I am convinced Nash has a sixth sense called ‘big brother knows all’ because for some reason he always knew everyone’s thoughts and feelings, even when they were trying to hide it. Either that or he’s a mind reader.

“I am,” I tell him, as convincingly as I could muster, “everything’s going to be fine.”

“Shit!” Jameson yells from across the room, perfect timing as per usual.

“What?” I hear Avery ask quickly.

“The powers gone out,” he says, smacking the table so hard I didn’t know how he didn’t break a bone.

“What do you mean the powers gone out?” I say, standing up and walking over.

“I mean they have no light, no heaters and they ate completely locked in by the mechanisms,” he explains, gesturing to the blank screens.

“We’ve lost all connection to them as well,” Xander murmurs, eyes darting from left to right at each and every screen.

“Everything?” I exclaim, trying not to get over-anxious and failing miserably.

“Yes,” Jameson confirms.

“You’re panicking her,” Nash scolds him.

“Well she asked I’m not going to lie,” he defends.

“Not the time to argue guys,” Avery rolls her eyes, getting back to the computer. Jameson follows her lead, trying to reconnect the lost signals.

“Shit shit shit,” he groans as more things shut off. He slams his hands down on the keyboard and starts guessing random buttons, “Xand help me out here,”

“Don’t you worry, dearest brother,” Xander replies calmly, “I’m working on it.”

Silence hits us like the dead. We’re all intently staring up the layers and layers of code coming up on the several screens. I can’t understand any of it.

“This is Python,” Jameson points at one of the scenes.

“Yeah and this is Java,” Xander nods, “but I have no clue what this is.”

“Shit,” Jameson curses, running a hand through his hair, reminding me of Grayson when he was overstimulated.

“Not yet,” he replies, turning to the other Hawthorne brother present, “Nash do you remember when I was in fifth grade-“

“The de-coder book?” he says before Xander even finishes.

“Please,” he nods sharply.

“Got it,” he replies, rushing out of the room.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” I whisper to Avery

“Absolutely none,” she shrugs, looking as clueless as me offering me some comfort.

“Who would even cut the power?” Jameson asks to nobody in particular.

Avery and I share a look. I already know we’re thinking the same thing.

“Grayson is in there, does she know that?” I ask quickly.

“I don’t know,” she replied, chewing the inside of her cheek

“She?” Jameson interrupts. We both ignore him.

“Don’t you think he’ll be her prime target,” I say, the worry warping my tone a little in a way that made me sound a little too vulnerable for my liking.

“Target?” Jameson says. We ignore him, again.

“Most likely, if it is her,” Avery sighs, tapping her bottom lip melodically.

Jameson looks at Xander, baffled, “are they speaking in code?”

“I’m kind of concentrating right now Jamie, please don’t talk to me,” he responds, not taking his eyes off of the computer screens as he attempts to decode.

“Who are you talking about?” Jameson raises his voice a little, forcing me and Avery to address his question.

“This could be Eve,” Avery says softly.

“Eve?” Xander says, freezing mid-type and actually lifting his head up.

“No surely not,” Jameson shakes his head in denial.

“Think about it,” I say, “who else can you think that would want go sabotage this game?”

“Anyone who fancies a good bit of money,” he states, “and it could be nothing at all.”

“A power cut isn’t nothing,” I argue.

“I hate to agree the circumstance,” Avery exhales, “but it’s true, this feels like a threat of sorts.”

“And we can’t contact the players meaning anything could happen right now,” I say, worry bleeding into my voice.

Jameson’s face softens.

“But they’re locked in,” Nash points out, sauntering back in, “no one is getting in or out, that means they can’t be hurt.”

He hands the decoding book to Xander who frantically flips through the pages to find something in particular.

“Windows can be smashed,” I point out.

“You think whoever this is would risk smashing a window,” Nash asks, with his eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know how these people work,” I snap, throwing my hands up in the arm.

“You’re shaking,” he says softly.

I look up to see my shaking limbs. Immediately they drop to my sides and I desperately try to still them, “no I’m not-“

“Breathe a little okay, Gray will be fine,” he reassures me, his tone placid, as he delicately takes my shaking hands between his.

“Look as long as they all stay put no one should get hurt,” Avery says calmly, “the glass on the windows are double glazed and harder to smash than the average window, that is if they’re going to risk that.”

“Besides Xander’s on it,” Jameson adds.

Xander sticks a thumb into the air, still audibly tapping the keyboard with the other, “whoever did this is incredibly skilled at hacking and annoyingly so,” he mutters in reply.

No one talks. We are all just stood in silence, barely daring to breathe not wanting to break Xander’s concentration. Mine and Avery’s hands are intertwined, gripping the others so tightly that our fingers are white. Xander is frantic. He’s practically sweating as he types quickly and clicks buttons I didn’t even know existed. And just when it seemed like he might be getting somewhere more and more boxes of undeciphered code popped up. I’m close to being hopeless when Xander leans back in his seat.

“We’re back up and running,” Xander announces, “lights, buttons, connections, locks, everything.”

Avery and I squeal, hugging each other tightly. Relief floods through my body and I’m giddy with it. Xander stands up and breathes out slowly.

I kiss his cheek in affection and gratitude, platonically, “thank you Xander.”

“You’re welcome,” he says.

“I owe you a scone,” Jameson tells with a slap on the back.

“That, you do,” he nods with a wide grin.

“What do we tell the players?” Nash asks, reminding us that the game is still going and the players will be wondering what the hell just went on.

“Do we tell them the truth?” Xander asks.

“We don’t even know the truth,” Jameson tells him.

“Then we tell them what we know,” Avery says, “Nash?”

“You got it kid,” he nods.

Xander slides an arms around me.

“Sorry ‘bout that folks,” Nash drawls through the microphone, “brief technical snafu on our end, but we’re back. You still have sixty three minutes until dawn. As long as at least one team makes it down to the dock by the deadline, the rules still stand.”

It’s fine, everything will be fine. Three thousand seven hundred and eighty seconds left. I rest my head on Xander’s shoulder and he puts his head on mine. I think he’s the only thing that’s holding me up at the moment. If he weren’t I’m pretty sure my body would be some sort of odd shaped puddle of consumed thoughts on the carpet. Only one sentence goes through my head, over and over and over. I can’t wait to have my arms around Grayson again.

***

It’s almost sunrise when we make our way to the dock so we’ll be there for when the players make it out. If they make it out. I walk in between Xander and Nash, trying to keep up with their obscenely large leg strides. Avery and Jameson lead the way holding hands. My heart squeezes, it won’t be too long before I see Grayson again. I know it seemed stupid, we had only been apart for a few hours, but those hours had felt like weeks given all of the events that had taken place. Not to mentioned the long prolonging wait of which I couldn’t see or hear him.

And there was still something going around in my head. Something about him being with Lyra Kane for this long in such close proximity. It was grating at me, but I push the feelings down and bury them under a mound that I’m trying to ignore.

“Want to have a bet?” Xander ruffles my hair, stealing me from being consumed by my own thoughts.

I slap him away, “I’ve heard it’s dangerous to wager with a Hawthorne.”

“What’s my brother been telling you?” he asks.

“Mum’s the word,” I wink back, tapping my nose.

“What’s your bet on little brother?” Nash asks.

“What team will make it first,” Xander grins, mischievous glint in his eye.

His brotehr grins towards the sky, “had a feeling it might be.”

“I’m bias then,” I scoff.

“Okay so your Hearts,” Xander says.

“Hang on I never agreed to this bet,” I exclaim, holding my hands up to surrender.

“Whoever wins gets a scone,” he bribes me.

“That only benefits you,” Nash points out.

“Actually I would also benefit, I like scones,” I smile sheepishly,

“See? Who are you voting Nash?” Xander asks.

“I’ll go with Clubs, I’m rooting for Gigi,” Nash shrugs.

Xander nods, “that means I’m going with Diamonds.”

“You don’t have to,” I tell him.

“Yes I do, otherwise it’s uneven,” he says. I wasn’t going to argue.

“Who would your original vote gone to?” I ask.

He smiles at me, a cheeky glint in his eyes, “no one shall ever know.”

“What are you three wittering about,” Jameson says, interrupting the train of conversation as he turns around.

“Probably something better than the lovesick whispers you two are sharing,” Xander teases.

“Xand-“

The thumping of footsteps cut him off. It’s a race. Hearts and Diamonds are out. Savannah is the fastest, Rohan hot on her heels. Though Lyra takes them both over in a matter of seconds. She must be a runner. Would explain the to-die-for figure. Grayson is close behind her thought Odette trailed behind slightly, but for a woman of her age she’s doing remarkably well. They all arrive within milliseconds of each other, breathless and rosy-cheeked.

“Congratulations Diamonds and Hearts, you’ve made it,” Avery smiles.

“Where’s Clubs?” Savannah asks, its only then I notice how her longs blonde hair has been chopped off unevenly. It makes her look even colder than before, sending a chill down my spine

“Still playing,” Jameson says.

“Gray,” I breathe in relief, as he takes me into his arms.

Something about the hug feels unnatural maybe even slightly uncomfortable, but I brush it off. We’d both been awake for far too long. I couldn’t trust my judgement on this little sleep.

“You okay?” I murmur into his shoulder.

“Fine,” he replies, so only I can hear him.

“Good.”

It hit sunrise and something sinks in my stomach. Clubs haven’t made it. Gigi is out of the game. This is going to destroy her. We all wait in silence. All knowing Clubs have failed, all knowing the disappointment we’d have to see on their faces. My heart is thumping loudly in my chest, I can hear it in my ears. I grip onto Grayson’s hand tightly. I catch Lyra’s honey golden eyes. She looks me up and down as I narrow my eyes at her. I can’t read her body language towards me, it was difficult to make out what she was thinking or feelings. I turn away and try not to think too much of it.

There’s sound coming from the left of us and in the distance there are three figures. Everyone’s eyes snap to the three remaining players who’s hearts are probably all sinking in realisation that they were nit longer players in this game. Then I notice what’s in Knox’s arms or rather who… Knox is carrying a bleeding Gigi. My stomach twists. Grayson freezes beside me.

“Put her down,” Grayson says sternly, his voice commanding authority.

Immediately Knox gently places Gigi down, making sure she was stable before he completely let go. We rush to her side immediately. Grayson putting a protective arm around her shoulder, his eyes flitting between the gash on her head and her face.

“Oh god Gigi,” I murmur tentatively touching her bloodied head to assess how severe it is.

“I’m fine,” she winces, blinking back tears.

“You are not,” Grayson says, his voice hard almost empty, “you’re injured Gigi.”

“Who among us is not occasionally concussed?” she says happily.

“Our team is out of the game, go ahead say it we’be been eliminated,” Knox says turning to Avery.

She ignores him and approaches Gigi, “are you okay?”

She nodded with a smile laced with the pain he thought she could hide. Maybe it was invisible to the others, but not to me. I’ve been under the same mask she’s trying to hide behind now. I understand. Grayson keeps his arm around her and I keep my hand in hers. She squeezes my palm and I squeeze hers back. I’m here, I wanted to scream, I’m here for you.

“Diamonds and Hearts, you’re onto the next phase of the game. Clubs… there’s always next year,” Avery finally brings herself to say.

“Once a player, always a player,” Jameson adds.

***

I don’t leave Gigi’s side until Nash has patched her up properly. ‘Stay with her, please,’ Grayson had murmured after we’d shared a quick kiss. He’d had something to discuss back at the dock with Odette. And Lyra. So I did, I stayed by Gigi’s side through every wince, every hand squeeze, every stitch.

“All patch up darlin’,” Nash nods, tipping his cowboy hat towards her slightly.

“Thanks,” she smiles brightly, it’s an unnatural fluorescent brightness that she radiated. Too bright, too artificial.

“You feeling okay?” I make sure, looking at her head.

“Fine,” she replied, gently feeling over her stitches.

Before anyone can say anything else there is a sharp knock at the door interrupting the thread of conversation. Nash answers. Brady walks in. Something was off about that guy. I got a bad feeling when I was around that guy. Nash gets up to leave and as much as I want to stay, it’s not my place to and I know that.

“Holler if you need anything,” Nash tells Gigi.

“We’re not going far,” I reassure her.

“Don’t worry about me,” she beams up at me, though the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “really I’m fine.”

“I think we both know that’s a lie,” I say, my voice so low I’m not sure if she can hear me.

The way her eyes soften, revealing an ounce of vulnerability, indicates she has, “can we talk later? Maybe on the boat back?”

“Of course we can,” I say, squeezing her hand in mine one last time, before standing up to leave her to talk to Brady.

She nods with a small smile which I return, then turn to follow Nash who’s holding eye contact with Brady intensely. As soon as we’re out of the room and a few paces down the corridor Nash blurts out, “I don’t trust him.”

“Neither do I,” I grimace, at least someone else had picked up on Brady’s sketchy vibes, “he gives me a weird feeling.”

“Same here kid,” he nods in reply, then pauses slightly before saying, “you go and find Gray, I’ll be close by if she needs me.”

I fumble over my words. How did he know again? He has to be some sort of mind reader. I make a mental note to discuss it with Xander.

“Are you sure?” I ask quietly.

“I’m sure,” he says, placing a brotherly hand in my shoulder, “I know you’re still worried, you’re horrible at hiding it.”

“Thanks Nash,” I chuckle, brushing hair out of my face,

“No worries kid,” he says, shooting me a lopsided grin as I rush off to reunite with Grayson.

***

The boat left for the mainland at noon, that was when Gigi, Knox and now Odette were leaving, as she traded her place for Brady’s. But the players had been told to try and get some rest before the next phase. I’d also been up all night and could feel myself growing tired, so Grayson and I were currently laying on our bed in each other’s arms. It feels nice to finally breathe a little. I don’t feel the weight of stress from my jealousy or guilt or worry, I just feel normal.

“Do you think Gigi will be okay,” I murmur into Grayson.

“Nash is used to patching up our ailments,” he responds, his tone a little distant. It made me iffy.

“Yeah but I mean after being cast out of the game,” I reply, “I know I wouldn’t feel great if I were in her position.”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, blowing out a short breath.

“I’m worried about her,” I say quietly.

“Me too,” he whispers, “I’m really worried about her.”

“I think we’re going to talk later,” I tell him, hoping it might provide himnwith some sort of solace.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I confirm, “I hope she might get whatever it is that’s hurting her off of her chest.”

“Make sure she’s okay for me, okay?” he makes sure, “no matter what.”

“Of course,” I say, a little confused. Why had he said it like that? Like something bad might happen? Like I might lose him? I brush off the feeling. I put it down to overreacting, as usual.

We fall into a long silence as I trace different shapes on chest with my finger tip. I slowly drag it along, with no specific shape in mind. A blank expression is present on his face and I can see he’s deep in thought. There’s something on his mind and I have a horrible feeling it has something to do with the unseen, unheard happenings of the grandest game.

“What’s on your mind?” I ask him, doe-eyed.

“Hmmm nothing,” he says, refusing to look me in the eye.

“You sure?” I press on.

“I’m sure,” he says, planting a kiss on my forehead.

The kiss was off and I could see something was bothering him but he didn’t want to tell me, I’d wait until he was ready. Even if it were forever.

“What was it like in there?” I ask, attempting to change the subject, “the game.”

“It really was the grandest game,” he whispers, “like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

“Really?”

“They outdid themselves thoroughly,” he says.

“I bet,” I nod, nuzzling further into him affectionately.

“You really couldn’t hear or see anything the whole time?” he asks, a hint of worry delicately woven into his tone. It was so brief you would’ve missed it if you didn’t know him. But I know Gray.

“Nothing, it was like hell,” I say with a small tired laugh, “it was killing me that I had no clue if you were okay.”

“I was fine,” he replied quickly, almost curtly.

“Well I know that now,” I yawn and feel my eyes begin to close slowly but I fight to keep them open.

“You’re tired,” Grayson says, the ghost of a smile faintly touching his lips.

I shake my head in denial, “no I’m not,” I protest, “not even a little bit.”

“Go the sleep love,” he whispers.

“I want to talk to you though,” I pout, rubbing my eyes.

“We‘ll have plenty of time tomorrow,” he says, playing with my hair.

“Okay,” I murmur, letting myself fall into a dimension of much needed sleep, finally with my love back in my arms.

***

I wake up in the middle of darkness, though there is light desperately trying to make it through the black out blinds. I wonder how long I’d been asleep for, it couldn’t be past noon though. I’m aware of the coldness on the other side of the bed. Grayson wasn’t there. It wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually when we were home, if it were the early hours he would either be swimming or having a wander and a read to make himself tired again.

I hear the door handle turn slowly and the sound of his all too familiar footsteps hitting the floor. I crawl out of bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, as I make my way toward him. Though as I do he stands still, frozen, like he can’t move. Concern latches onto my throat.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, tentatively touching his arm.

He recoils away quickly, like I’ve hit a tender nerve or a bruise of sorts.

“Are you hurt?” I ask worriedly

“No,” he murmurs, his voice stone cold.

It hurts a little more than it should, he’s never usually so blunt, so cutthroat. Not with me anyway.

“Where have you been?” I say, fishing for an honest reply.

He meets my eyes for the first time. Swimming in endless pools of grey is a mournful sorrow, “I’m sorry.”

His voice cracks. Grayson’s voice never cracks.

“Gray?” I say in a ghost of the whisper, the word not even feeling real once it is said. My pulse quickens suddenly and a large lump that I cannot swallow forms in my throat.

He’s pale, his face is regretful. Hollow. Lifeless. My heart sinks. I already know.

“Tell me,” I say, my voice shaking nearly breaking like weak houses in an earthquake.

He shakes his head glossy eyed, “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“

“Tell me,” I grit through my teeth trying to prevent the thick emotion building up in my chest from overflowing.

There is a long pause. A deadly silence that seemed to last for days.

He parts his lips and utters the words, “I kissed her.”

It’s like a masked killer has dragged me from the comfort and safety of my own bed in the middle of the night, taken me into the thick of the wood where the vegetation is overgrown and no one will ever hear you scream. The part where it’s hard to see the sky or tell day from night and where no birds sing. And once we’re there, he takes a sharpened knife, laced with the most excruciating poison and slowly opens the left side of my chest, carefully ripping out my beating heart full of blood to destroy in his hands at his leisure. Grinning as her leaves my broken body to bleed out, dying heartless and lifeless. It’s like the person under that mask is Grayson. The one person I put all of my love and trust into. The one person who I thought would saved me from the masked killer is the masked killer. What a fucking joke.

“Who?” I ask, my tone low, dangerous, angry, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”

“I kissed Lyra,” he whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, a state I’d never witnessed him in before. But right now I’m too broken to care.

My heart shatters into a million pieces on the spot. And then I am numb with agony.

a/n: so that was a fun ending :) hope you enjoyed part 2 my loves <33 and thanks to everyone who requested it, I’m sorry it took me so long to get around to it

NOTE I DONT THINK GRAYSON IS A CHEATER!! LIKE AT ALL. MY BABY WOULD NEVER!! but I thought I’d spice things up a bit yk, for the ✨drama✨

ALSO the de-coding thingy when the power went out if probs completely wrong on my part but I was allowed to drop computer science last year and I did ;) so I was just waffling, I know nothing about computers other than they can type, play music and they provide me with google and amazon

TIG masterlist

[pablitogavii]

request: gavi and reader dont get along and fight all the time but they secretly have feelings for each other 1 day another barca player tried to flirt with reader and pablito got really jealous and eventually confessed his feelings😝 enemies to lovers type of thing 👀 so much fluff at the end pls✨

I'll use this request to start mini series of Pablo falling in love Pedri's little sister. Hope you like ti :)

Best Friend's Little Sister

Pablo's POV

I just finished changing from a sweaty kit getting out of the changing room just to see her standing there on her phone probably waiting fro Pedri. Ugh! She infuriated me even when she wasn't doing anything!

"Ai big forehead! He's already at the parking lot!" I said and she looked up from her phone about to smile politely but when she saw it was only me, she rolled her eyes. Little pretty bitch!

"Nice miss Pablitooo!!" she smirked referring to the missed goal from the game and I clenched my jaw especially since she was using the nickname I absolutely hated!

"You're running your mouth too much bomboncita!" I said using the pet name that would always make her cuss me out but this time her cheeks blushed since other teammates heard me say it as they passed to the changing room.

"Whatever cabrón!" she said quickly when out eyes met again walking past me towards the parking lot and I caught glance of her #8 jersey wishing it was #30 instead..wait what!? No I don't! I ran after her since Pedri was driving me home tonight.

"Congrats on the win hermano! Good thing you don't miss..." she said when we met Pedri and he sighed looking at me but I just rolled my eyes knowing he was sick of us constantly bickering around him.

"Gracias. Vamos!" Pedri said telling her numerous times to be nice to his best friend but he knew better than to expect her to ever listen to anyone..after all, she might be one person who is more stubborn than Pablo.

"Youngsters in the back!" I said when she tried to call shot gun knowing she hated that she was two years younger than me which gave me a chance to call her out on it whenever I wanted.

"Can't you call a truce with her hermano?? She's my hermanita" Pedri asked me like always and I shrugged not being the one that started this little war she keeps initiating whenever she sees me.

I decided to try because of Pedri, so when we arrived in front of my house I got out opening the back door much to her surprise and asked her to come out for a moment.

"What do you want?" she smirked and I sighed feeling sudden urge to shut her little mouth up by crashing my lips on hers but then I recollected realizing her brother was sitting in the car.

"How about we start tolerating each other?" I leaned in and whispered into her ear noticing the way her skin filled with goosebumps and her cheeks blushed bright red.

"Um..okay" was all she muttered and for the first time I didn't feel infuriated..I felt excited?

"Goodnight bomboncita" I smirked kissing her cheek while she just stood there frozen before getting back into the car and leaving with her brother.

Your POV

"Pablo's coming over. Can there please be no fights?" Pedri said to you sunbathing in the backyard and you quickly jumped up pulling your sunglasses down.

"He's coming now?" you said sounding more nervous than angry which made your brother raise his brows in confusion while nodding his head.

"Okay..um..whatever. I'll be in my room!" you jumped and rushed inside which made him roll his eyes not understanding what was going in your head this time.

"Hola hermano!" you heard from your room gluing your ear to the door feeling your cheeks blush as the feeling of his lips keeps replaying in your mind. Why the hell did he kiss you!? And why did you like it!? No, you didn't!

You couldn't focus on your show, book or even to what your best friend was saying over face time when the only thing in your mind was the fact that Pablo was right downstairs and that you wanted to see him again.

"Gotta go to the bathroom. Bye!" you said hanging up and rushing to the bathroom opening the door without knocking not expecting anybody to be there. Much to your surprise, Pablo was in there tucking 'himself' and oh god were those who said he was 'small' were so wrong...oh shit! You closed the door quickly.

"Don't you ever knock?" Pablo opened the door quickly and you were frozen still thinking about what you saw and his smirk grew while he raised your chin to look from his crotch to his face.

"I was wondering where you were bomboncita..you should join us downstairs" was all he said before adding that the bathroom was free now and I ran inside closing the door in so much embarrassment. He was wondering where I was? Why? He hates me! What the hell is going on!?

Pablo's POV

I had to admit that wasn't how I wanted her to see 'me' but her reaction only stroked my ego and made me more interested to keep playing this new game we started. That's all it was-a game!

"Look who joined us.." Pedri said and I turned seeing her standing there with cheeks little less red but still blushed while playing with the edge of her hoodie.

"Can I play?" she asked and I smirked moving a little and patting a seat besides me which made Pedri smile thinking we are finally becoming friends..little did he know his sister was such a naughty little girl for me.

"This is new?" Pedri said tapping my shoulder before going to grab a soda from the fridge asking if we wanted anything but we were fine as I set up my joystick for her to play.

"So you move using these and kick on letter B. Got it?" I explained while she stared at my face more than what I was showing her before laying back grabbing a joystick and tossing her legs onto my lap which felt..strange?

"Watch the pro" she said and I chuckled gulping when her feet rested on top of my crotch and I was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose making me feel so freaking good...but then Pedri came back so I grabbed them making them stop moving but still resting on top of my now growing bulge. I'm so fucked up!

"They keep stealing my ball!" she whined making Pedri chuckle while being on his phone and I grabbed her waist pulling her closer putting my hands over hers and she froze as I helped her play better.

"Whining won't solve anything.." Pedri commented and she said it always works for her when she wants something done her way. I didn't doubt it is what thought to myself but quickly re-focused on the game.

By the end of the night, we scored many goals joking around and having fun until I started to feel guilty looking at my best friend and knowing that I am lying to his face..this wasn't the game and it was wrong!

I came back from the bathroom determined to end it when I saw her waiting by the stairs with a mischievous smile on that pretty face..little devil!

"What do you want?" I said a bit more coldly on purpose reminding myself that this was wrong and I needed to cut it fast before it becomes stronger and hurts her more. I didn't care about myself!

"A goodnight hug?" she blushed and I felt my heart beating faster that she was becoming more comfortable around me but I couldn't bring myself to do it..not when Pedri was downstairs..not when he said she was off limits the moment they became best friends.

"And why are you asking me!? Get a boyfriend or something!" I said my heart breaking when I said those words seeing her eyes fill with tears before pushing past me and walking into her room quickly as I went home. I couldn't sleep that night...was she crying?

Your POV

He was so confusing! Ugh I hated him but I wanted him badly at the same time! Why was he playing with me like this!?

The whole day he was so sweet, teasing me and occasionally even complimenting me. We started to talk like normal two people without sarcastic comments, even came close to opening up about things but then he just went cold. Why!?

"Que pasa? School?" Pedri noticed I wasn't feeling myself in the next few days (no snarky comments, or bad jokes) and I sighed asking if I did something that might have made Pablo hate me again.

"He doesn't hate you but he knows his limits.." Pedri said and that made you confused asking what he meant exactly. He told you about the 'rule' and suddenly you realized what was making Pablo pull away.

Him pulling away gave you a clear sign..you were not more important that his friendship with your brother. So, you had to move on quick and get him out of your head! Any means necessary!

y.n.bebe

Barcelona, Spain

beach day w/ bestie @becca.girl

liked by pedri, pablogavi and 50K others

comments:

becca.girl: lindaaaa <3 liked by y.n.bebe

aurorapaezg: <3

y.n.bebe: <33

gaviobsessed: aurora commented??

pablotorree: bonita liked by 10K others

y.n.bebe: gracias pablito

barcafanclub: uhhhh something cooking here???

brunabiancardi: mia preciosa! <3

y.n.bebe: te amo tia!

barcawags: hottest siblings! @pedri @y.n.bebe

pedri: I'm hotter ;))

y.n.bebe: yeah right lol!

gavigirlfriend: why did Gavi and his sister like her post???

gavipedrifan: she is pedri's sister :)

gavigirfriend: good! I thought they were a thing now!

Pablo's POV

She's calling him Pablito now!? But she only calls me that! Mierda!

"Woah Gavi, take it easy! You almost hit Torree in the head with that ball!" Xavi said while Pablo walked up to me asking if everything was alright and the only thing I wanted was to hit his stupid face with a fist but I controlled myself.

"Fine." I said before leaving to get some water.

"Que pasa con él?" Torree asked Pedri and he followed after me to check if everything was alright which of course he couldn't know about. Mierda Y/n! Why are you doing this to me!?

Luckily, we won the game the next day and when I was walking off shaking hands with Pedri, I saw her in the stands smiling wide making his heart melt when our eyes met. But then she looked away...like she was looking for someone else? I left to the changing room not in the mood celebrate.

When I came out and saw her waiting once again, I couldn't stop myself from walking towards her angrily with a clenched jaw and hands held in fists.

"Are you waiting for Pedri or Torree ?" I said and she looked up from her phone straight into my eyes quickly sensing that I was enraged.

"Why do you care who I'm waiting for? You're not my brother Pablo!" she said about to walk away but my arm rested on the wall trapping her there as she looking up at me with big eyes. Ugh!! How badly I wanted to kiss her right now!

"Just because his name is Pablo too that doesn't mean he can make you feel the way I do..he doesn't measure up to me bomboncita" I said knowing how narcissistic that sounded but not giving the crap since I was angry and frustrated.

"You're a cabrón!" she said and I smirked leaning down into her neck before whispering into her ear slowly "maybe true, but I'm your only Pablito.." and with that I kissed her lips feverishly but quickly before leaving her flustered that when Torree finally came out she followed after me quickly..good girl!

"What do you want from me!? One minute you are acting like you want me and the other you tell me to get a boyfriend! And then when I try to do that, you..kiss me like that" she was yelling until I got close enough that her voice was breaking from nervousness.

"Tu me vuelves loco bomboncita.." was all I said taking in her strong perfume before walking away to meet with Ansu who was driving me home. I couldn't drive with Pedri today..I needed to think about everything!

Things were getting out of control..Pablo felt guilty..but he wanted her..badly.

Interesting story huh? Let me know what you think will happen next??

[syd-djarin]

Do It For Me | Treat Me Like a Slut, Part 2 | Pairing Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x fem!Reader (NSFW 18+ MDNI)

***TEASER***

Read part one here.

Warnings: sub!jack, dom!reader, edging, safeword, some religious undertone references (Christ, taking the lords name in vain, “the Almighty”), a little angst in the beginning, alcohol, inability to tell the truth, mentions of Jack possibly being dead, blood, yelling, crying. Excessive, excesssssive use of pet names, (1) use of MOMMY, use of daddy, Jack is called a pretty boy and a good boy. Dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), Jack’s big cock, breeding kink if you squint, creampie, size kink, handcuffs, cowboy/southern references, mentions of pain and punishment. Reader has no major physical descriptions. And finally…your honor, they’re in love.

Shoutout to: @katiexpunk for helping with scenes, brainstorming, beta’ing. (y’all better not get tired of me singing her praises) & @milly-louise for brainstorming and beta’ing my rough rough draft. I have the best people in my corner.

Here’s a sneak peak ;)

He’s well-versed in taking charge and fucking you til you see The Almighty, but reversing those roles, having you boss him around for a change? He’s never experienced anything quite like it. The Statesman surely didn’t train him for this.

“Remember the safe word, baby?” You ask in a serious tone, momentarily pausing your sexual prowess.

“Oh fuck,” he chokes out. “Y-es, I remember, baby.” Your pussy throbs at the sight of your tough cowboy submitting to you.

“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna keep your hands to yourself. Can you do that for me?” You respond, your voice smoky, laced with pure desire.

He nods and a faint whimper escapes his lips. You squeeze his jaw with your hand, “Use your words like a big boy,” you scold, reciting similar words he used on you not too long ago. Use your words like a big girl.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, voice trembling with need, a twinge of submission behind it.

You can’t help the smirk on your face, taking over the reins and being in charge gives you a new thrill. Now you know what all the fuss is about.

You start undoing the buttons of his Western-style shirt. You’re taking your time, enjoying how each undone button reveals more of his lean body, but for Jack, it’s painstakingly slow. He squirms where he’s sitting and fights the urge to take over. He’s trying not to paint his jeans just looking at you being a minx.

Rip my fuckin’ heart out baby, is the only thought that crosses his mind.

[luimagines]

( Mafia imagine: cake & met shadow queen)

When warrior heard that the shadow queen is here he go to get wild and enter the kitchen and see eight different cakes as warrior look to wild just as wild done making the eight cake.

Warrior: wild?! The hell! I say one cake not eight!

Wild: I um...panic..

Warrior: how?! Never mind that come shadow queen here and we need to greet her now.

Warrior grab wild and they quickly head to the main floor were the rest of the chain are with the shadow queen and they all act like everything normal and they don't have a eight year old child somewhere in the base.

Time does his normal greeting the shadow queen and talk but the main door open by wolfie and he shake his fur of the dirty as the chain held their breath, they forgot about the child's wolf.

Shadow queen: oh a wolf. I didn't know you have a wolf of *country of choice* link. Were did you get this rare wolf?

Time: my boys found it in some woods. Nothing to-

Wolfie walk over to the shadow queen and woof to her to cut time off as the boys try to think of a way but they see the shadow queen knee down to pet wolfie and wolfie let her til her hand touch the wolfie body leash and she notice it's designed of a service dog for blind people.

Shadow queen: link. We're is this wolf owner?

Time try not look nervous or anything to show that so he explained that the wolf owner-

Shadow queen get up and lift her glove hand to use her ability and allow her magic to move through the base to find the wolf owner as hyrule shaking lightly that possibly shell find blind and sadly he's right. There a dark portal and she reach her hands through it and gently pull out the blind child as they rub their eyes since their still sleepy and hyrule fainted and the chain are on edge as the shadow queen ability faint away.

Shadow queen: hello there little one, sorry for waking you up but who are you?

Blind blink their blind eyes still sleepy but hear this pretty lady voice.

Blind: hello I'm *name of choice* big brother sky and big brother hyrule say it's okay for me to nap and your voice sound pretty. Oh have you seen my puppy wolfie?

Wolfie woof from under them and the shadow queen place the child down so the wolf can nuzzle to the blind child.

Shadow queen: I see..

She glance to the chain with a look and time knows she'll have a word with them but the child gently tag on the shadow queen pants leg draw her attention.

Blind: are you here to celebrate with us?

Shadow queen: oh celebration on what you sweet thing?

Blind: I turn eight yesterday.

Now the shadow queen smile and the chain don't know if they should be thankful or in danger but the sleepy child in shadow queen arms so they'll nap on her.

@thesoftieanon

Time fights the urge to growl. "With all due respect, Your Majesty, unhand my child."

The child tilts their head and puts their hand n the Shadow Queen's arm. "...Your Majesty?"

"We just call her that sometimes." Legend helps Hyrule sit up and get into a propter chair. "That's the Shadow Queen."

The child freezes and takes a half step away. "O-oh..." They bow awkwardly. "How do you do, your majesty?"

[misunderstood-muses]

Promise (Part 15)

I was pushed into a chair and the cloth was taken out of my mouth. The Captain looked at me from the chair behind his desk. He gave a wave and Jungkook left. 

“Nice to see you, Aleahnan.” He said, standing up behind the desk.

“Don’t call me that.” I spat.

“Don’t be like this.”

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” I asked. 

“Hmm, it doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me.”

“I’m not.”

Yoongi hadn’t changed. In fact, where I had clearly struggled, he seemed at ease. He was one of Namjoon’s personally selected guards. 

He smirked and circled around the desk towards me. I held my ground despite the urge I felt to move away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Nice to see you Aleahnan.” He said, standing up behind the desk.

“Don’t call me that.” I spat.

“Don’t be like this.”

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” I asked. 

“Hmm, it doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me.”

“I’m not.”

Yoongi hadn’t changed. In fact, where I had clearly struggled, he seemed at ease. He was one of Namjoon’s personally selected guards. 

He smirked and circled around the desk towards me. I held my ground despite the urge I felt to move away.

“You’re looking well. Your small time back did you some good. It almost brought back the green to your eyes.” He said, running a finger along my cheek.

I bit my tongue and said nothing, looking towards the only window in the cabin. He “tsked” and stepped away. 

“I really thought you would be happy to see me.” He said. 

“And why would you think that? I know what you’ll do.” 

“You think I’ll send you back.”

His tone made me falter. “Won’t you?” 

“I could. I know Namjoon would be overjoyed. However, if you lend me some assistance you could stay. “

“Assistance. With what?”

“You haven’t asked how I came to be here.”

“And you aren’t usually this coy.”

“I’m just enjoying our time together after so long.”

“We could have enjoyed time over tea. It’s more difficult to enjoy anything when you’ve been kidnapped.”

He snorted, “Kidnapped. You were with pirates. If they knew..”

“They do. And they haven’t tried to exploit me. Something you seem about to do in under five minutes.”

“I’m not exploiting you. Think of it as a mutually beneficial partnership. Besides, it’s in both of our interests.”

He took a seat at the edge of the desk. 

“I am in this position now because it lets me track people. Yes, under the guise of catching pirates but they’re at fault too. And honestly, I can make anyone look like a pirate.”

“I don’t follow.” I said. 

“I’m here to stop the ones who are harming us. End it. Take back our home.”

“So Namjoon put you up to this. This is the same kind of talk that made me leave. I won’t help you.”

“Then I’ll return you to him. You’ll be imprisoned of course, for your abandonment and refusal to follow the King's order.”

“But I..”

“Shh, don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be pardoned when you say you’ll marry him. That it was all just a big misunderstanding and you’ve seen reason. Then you can live out your days in the palace. I’m sure your sister will be thrilled...”

“Fuck you.” I said quietly, clenching my teeth around the words. I knew how she had that dagger. What it meant. 

“That is against the rules,” He said, a smirk appearing on his face that I wanted to punch off, “However, bargaining with you…Stay on my ship. Help me to take down those disgusting creatures who are hurting us. Serve your penance here. Maybe you’ll even see your pets again.”

“They’re not my pets.”

“It doesn’t matter. Those are your options. Stay or refuse and go back. And I kill your little pirate crew.”

“Yoongi please, you don’t understand. Not all humans are bad. We can fight this another way. We can teach. Coexist. We don’t have to take and conquer like them.”

“3 days.” He said, standing and walking to the door. 

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I’ll give you 3 days to decide.” He knocked and it opened, the man named Jungkook there. 

“Take her to a cabin. I want round the clock guards from my personal guard and get the wax for your ears.” He turned to me, “If you utter one word before you get to a cabin they have my permission to gag you again and that is how you will remain. Understood?” 

I shoved past him and made my way out the door. 

“Like I said. Glad to see you again.”

I sent him back a very unfriendly silent gesture.

I paced my confines for what seemed like hours. There was no way I was going to stay on a ship with Yoongi and “take down” the humans as he wanted. However, that left me with only the option of going back to my home…no, my prison. Home was the Promise. Home was Hongjoong and his crew.

Not to mention if I went back, Yoongi said he would kill them and I knew he meant it. 

If I stayed though, they would be safe, and I wouldn’t be sent back to Namjoon or Keln. 

Maybe I could eventually find a way back off this ship. I knew jumping overboard would only put me in more trouble, so I would have to be stealthy about it. Regardless, I had no other choice. 

I knocked on the door to my cabin and waited. There was a new crew member standing there when the door opened. I reached for his chin, turning his head quickly before he could react, and pulling the wax from his ear before releasing him.

He sputtered, placing a hand on his cutlass.

“No need for that. Tell your Captain that I accept his offer.” I said, before closing the door again on my own. 

---------- ----------------- ----------------- ------------------------------ 

A knock on my door pulled me from the pages of the book I was reading. When it opened I raised an eyebrow at Jungkook.

“You’re needed.”

“Of course. His majesty calls.”

Two weeks. It has been two weeks on this awful ship. Two weeks of doing Yoongi’s bidding when he needed me. Siren singing my way onto ships. The upside was that there was less bloodshed than I’m sure there would have been. The downside was that none of these crews could fight for themselves any more. I was never really sure when they were part of the Navy mission or part of Yoongi’s personal vendetta. How his crew was taking their new found asset I wasn’t sure of either. None of them had even seemed phased. I wondered if that was part of Yoongi’s own persuasion. 

I stepped from the cabin and made my way to the deck. Still mostly silent these days as the same threat remained unless I was speaking with Yoongi. Something I tried hard not to do, but when he was your only company for meals some day, it was hard not to. 

“What now?” I asked, seeing his blond hair near the main mast.

“Coming up on a ship. Pirate crew.”

“What do all your men think about me?” I asked, wanting to confirm my suspicions. 

“They think whatever I want them to think.” He said. So I had been right. 

Clenching my hands into fists at my side, I watched as the ship on the horizon got closer, holding my breath. It’s something I did every time. Praying to the goddess that it wasn’t the Promise. 

I exhaled, relieved when the flag was an unfamiliar blue and yellow. 

Yoongi started giving out orders as we got closer. Cannons were lit and warning shots fired. Eventually, they were ready to board. 

“You’re up, sweetheart.” I glared at Yoongi before stepping onto the wooden plank, visions of just tossing myself over flashing before my eyes. Thinking of the boys and their well being, I quickly stepped towards the deck of the other ship, song already leaving me, reaching out to captivate the crew. 

I usually never looked them in the eye, too ashamed of what I was doing. Today though, something pulled my eyes towards the quarter deck and my song caught in my throat.

Familiar brown eyes and black hair wrapped in a bandana looked at me. Maria.

This was it. The moment I had been waiting for for two weeks. Never did I think that I could obtain the help of any crew we encountered, but maybe this time was different. 

I cut my song short. 

“Maria!” I yelled. 

I watched as she shook her head for a moment, others of the crew doing the same.

“Aleah?” She asked.

“Tell them to go.” I said, before turning to the others, “Go now!”

Maria yelled something and everyone jumped into action. Navy crew members began to try and make it to the ship, guns raised. Maria’s crew fought back, shooting to keep them back and knocking them off the gang planks as they tried to come over. A cannon fired and for a moment I thought all was lost, but then I heard yelling from the other ship and grinned. They hadn’t been prepared for a fight, and this time, the opposing crew was going to win. 

Yoongi was yelling at his men, but once he realized he was losing this one he stopped all movement and his eye landed on me. A cool indifference fell across his face as we pulled away, dark eyes turning to a crisp light blue. I grinned despite the power I knew he held. 

He might be able to have me show off my power, but he would lose his cover if he showed his. No matter what persuasion he had over them, showing his own true self could end all of that.  

We never broke eye contact, feeling like he was still watching me until his ship faded in the distance. 

“My gods, Miss. What happened?”

I was sitting with Maria in the crows nest. After talking with the Captain of her ship, and offering him a bribe that would be paid to him later, we were currently sailing for the last place Maria had seen the Promise. 

I explained some of the story, leaving out the parts about being a mermaid and being in love with three members of the crew. 

“So the Navy Captain was using you for your power? For your siren singing?”

Okay, so maybe there hadn’t been a point to leaving that out. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I knew before I even left the Inn that day. Why do you think I told Captain Joong to take care of you?”

“Maria, you could have said something.”

“And you would have lied to me.” I tried to protest but she held up her hand, “You forget, I was hiding things from you as well.”

“Which I don’t understand, considering the company that I kept.” I said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes I know. I was very aware of the company in the house…and in your bed.” She said, winking.

“Maria!” 

She let out a loud laugh and I couldn’t help but follow. After two weeks on Yoongi’s ship I was finally feeling relaxed. We sat in silence for a while, just looking out at the water. I don’t think I would be fully relaxed until I was back with them. I knew we would have to think of a plan to keep us all safe, but I was willing to do anything if it meant keeping them protected. 

“You know I never judged you right?” She asked quietly. 

“I know.” 

“You were always very strong. They are lucky to have you. I know you can all make it through whatever happens next, even if it means going to the ends of the earth or even to Davy Jones’ Locker.”

“Maria, there is no Davy Jones’s Locker. I know what’s at the bottom of the ocean, remember?”

She shoved me with her arm, “You know what I mean.”

I nodded, biting my lip. “I’ll do what I have to, anything I have to, to keep them safe. All of them. And I’ll fight Yoongi, or a King or Davy Jones. Whoever or whatever stands in my way, even if it’s the end of the earth.”

[yslkook]

TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

[highdramas]

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

--

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

[kitchenisking]

100 Fics for A 100 Followers😍 (21-30)

lost without you by ash_mcj - (Rating: G, Words: 8322, sterek)

“Derek,” Stiles whined childishly. He scooted closer to him and grabbed onto his arm to gently shake him. “I need to hear this! I can’t even picture you playing an instrument—never mind singing!”

Derek shrugged him off and nudged him away. “Not happening.”

“But why replace it, if you don’t even play it anymore?” Stiles reasoned. “C’mon, Sourwolf, my life will never be complete until I hear you sing.”

“Tragic.”

“I’ll do anything! Seriously, Derek, anything. I’ll streak across the lacrosse field during our final match, if you perform for us right now.”

[or: derek made the mortifying deal that he would sing and play the piano for stiles if he graduated college... and it finally came around to bite him in the ass] --- Sterek Valentine Week 2021 - Secret Crush & Love Song

Better Than Any Flame by alisvolatpropiis - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4027, sterek)

“You've got something on your face,” Derek says, clearing his throat, resisting the urge to reach up and touch the scraggly beard, to get his mouth on it.

Stiles rolls his eyes but he still leans forward to bump a shoulder against his in greeting. “This thing,” he says, petting it. “Scott and I had a bet to see who could grow a better beard.” 

Derek doesn’t even glance over at Scott, who he already knows is clean-shaven; he just holds Stiles’ unnerving stare, trying to figure out the look in those big brown eyes. It's something like innocence, but it's way too knowing, too sure, to be sincere. It's classic Stiles, really. Derek raises one eyebrow at him and strokes his own, better beard, making a show of luxuriating in how full and soft it is. “And you lost so you had to keep yours,” he says finally, fighting a smile. 

Stiles tosses his head back in wide-mouthed laughter, and goddammit, Derek wants to lick, wants to taste, wants to feel. Stiles walks past him on his way to the dining room, patting him roughly on the shoulder, winking again. “I missed you too, big guy.”

Unmarked by nightlight9 - (Rating: T, Words: 2701, sterek)

Derek presses his fingers against his soulmark briefly, studying the familiar phrase in the mirror before tugging his shirt on. He’s spent a lot of time imagining who the presumptuous words belong to, but all he knows for sure about them is that he can’t wait to met them.

Safety in Silence by Survivah - (Rating: Mature, Words: 66901, sterek)

It's perfectly understandable. Even Derek wouldn't want to be Derek's soulmate.

When I Find Love by cloudsarefluffy - (Rating: T, Words: 7767, sterek)

Written for somniator99: I just want to read a romantic comedy with sterek pairing with matchmaker stiles who trys to make Derek fall for someone else instead they falls for each other but no angst okay …

--

Stiles is good at his job, and he’s pretty sure knew what he was doing.

Every single person he had helped pair up so far was happy and satisfied with his choices. No one ever called him back up after a meeting and told him that the person who they were seeing wasn’t compatible for them at all, and that there wasn’t at least some form of connection. In fact, the longest he had a client looking for their match was about a week before they declared: “this is the one.”

Stiles was proud to say that he could make people fall in love in only a matter of days.

But then again, none of those people are the ever-unsatisfied, seasoned client named Derek Hale, either.

The Mating Privilege by Kikileduc - (Rating: Mature, Words: 35380, sterek) Stiles and Derek have been happily mated. The pack is doing well, but in hopes of creating alliances for it to do better, Derek accepts a neighboring pack's request to allow two wolves to join the Hale-McCall pack for a full moon cycle. They hope to form a blood-tie, or at least a long term friendship between the two packs. The issue is Kohona, the tribal leader's daughter, has her eyes set on an unavailable alpha wolf. This could have drastic consequences for their young emissary, however...

Wait by cutloosemcgoose  - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 23431, sterek)

Sitting on his couch, staring at the wall, it feels like Derek is watching his whole, miserable, lonely life flash before his eyes. He’s twenty four and he’s alone. No family, no friends, no real pack. He’s six days away from spending one of the most family-oriented holidays of the year trying to avoid any human interaction. If anyone could see him right now, they would tell him he looks pathetic. If Laura could see him right now, she would probably beat the crap of him and then tell him he’s a loser.

Home by coffeeinallcaps - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 18464, sterek)

Derek has bought a beautiful house. Stiles can't stay away. (In which everyone hangs out at Derek's place all the time and Stiles tries but fails not to fall for a certain socially inept alpha.)

One More Again by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 22238, sterek)

When a strange man appears in the Hale Pack territory with an unusual proposition for Stiles and Lydia, Stiles is unable to resist going back in time to stop the Hale House fire. 

Even after a few bumps in the road, Stiles finds himself in the past with one nearly-insurmountable goal - getting Talia Hale and the rest of her family to trust him with their lives.

everything you do [sends me higher than the moon] by crossroadswrite - (Rating: G, Words: 4522, sterek)

Based off the prompt: “I understand the whole sleep talking thing but what I don’t understand is the princess dragon dream and why I’m in it.” . When Derek opens his door to see Stiles standing there with four full suitcases, his massagers’ bag thrown over his shoulder, two big cardboard boxes that barely close and his demon cat cradled on the crook of his elbow all he can say is, “Why?”

Not “what” not “what happened stiles” not “get out” not “please let me kiss you this pinning thing is really getting old for me” not “why are you bringing satan into my home”.

Just a simple “why”.

He thinks that is the key question in his life. Just why, in general.

“I’m moving in!” Stiles announces cheerily, dragging a suitcase and little homewrecker inside with him.

[black-licorice-lingerie]

A Look Into Billy Lenz’s Personality (from the book)

Okay so this is going to be my own interpretation of what we learn in the Black Christmas novelization. Specifically, I’m going to be going over the things Billy says. If you’re a huge fan of Black Christmas, or just Billy Lenz and you wish to learn more about him or the whole story, I highly suggest you go check it out right here: (https://100vampirenovels.net/pdf-novels/black-christmas-by-lee-hays-free).

That being said, let’s take a peak at Billy’s personality:

Based on what my 2 am notes describe, Billy is very much socially awkward as the story makes it clear that Billy really wants to communicate with the sorority house beyond using the telephone. Billy actually HATES using the telephone (shocker I know), but is SO shy at talking with others that he can’t help but hide away and establish a distanced method of speaking. This pretty much tells us that Billy can’t help but be afraid of interacting with other people. Billy’s social ineptitude is even shown near the part where he viciously stabs Barb to death. Upon seeing Jess and Barb talk to each other about nightmares and Peter, Billy is depicted as really longing for the kind of communication Jess and Barb are showing.

Another, but small note on Billy’s personality is that he comes across as a bit judgmental. When Barb picks up the phone and talks to her mom about life and such, she gets a bit sassy in attitude. Billy, of course listening to this, begins to judge Barb for daring to speak to her own mother that way. He’s bewildered from Barb having the courage to speak to her mother, an authority figure, in such a snappy tone. Interestingly enough, this points that Billy knows social standards (how and how not to talk to people), but can’t bring himself to properly talk with people to display his mannerism knowledge.

A BIG aspect of Billy’s personality is, without a doubt, insecurity. When Clare is packing her belongings to leave the sorority house, she suspects that Claude is in the room. She calls out to Claude, calling him names for being a silly pet. Billy, who was hiding in the fucking closet for whatever reason, hears this and actually thinks she’s talking about him. After feeling insulted, Billy lost it and murdered Clare with a plastic bag. The thoughts in his head say that he didn’t mean, or want to murder Clare, but that she “left him no choice” for “bullying” him. Clare’s death is an example of how anxious Billy is about himself, showing how he thought a casual conversation towards a cat was about him. He does NOT like being insulted to the point where he reacts violently. Billy has the urge to drastically “defend” himself when he feels insulted in any way.

Possessiveness also seems to be a personality trait of Billy. After having murdered the shit out of Clare and stashing her body up in the attic, he recognizes her father visiting the sorority house. Obviously, Clare’s father is trying to figure out what the fuck happened to her, but Billy’s annoyed at this. Billy describes Clare (at least her corpse) in a way you’d describe an item. Billy’s irritated at Clare’s father coming about and looking for her, because in Billy’s sick mind (the story in his POV), Clare belongs to him now. So not only is Billy hyper-aggressive when he feels insulted, but he has the sick urge to add insult to injury by “claiming” the body of his victims as his toy-like belongings. Clare “insulted” him, and she “paid” for it. To make himself feel better, Billy takes Clare’s body up into where he’s staying, a twisted mimicry of a child getting a toy, or obtaining a friend. That way, Clare surely won’t “mock” Billy anymore, as he now “owns” her.

However, Billy also has self awareness. The story later begins to show that Billy doesn’t like what his mind forces him to believe, and how he behaves. When Mrs. MacHenry is searching the house for Claude, Billy hopes that she doesn’t reach the attic because once she does, he won’t be able to stop himself. Billy hates this about himself.

In conclusion…Billy is clearly mentally ill. Very, very mentally ill. It’s shown that Billy is aware of how to behave towards others, and does (in fact) have a sense of right and wrong since his murderous actions come back to disgust him. However, he’s also very incapable of properly establishing communication between himself and other people. He’s also violently insecure about himself, along with being possessive towards others. He sees that what he does is awful, and even knows the ins and outs of how one should treat authority figures. 

Billy’s personality is under an attack of cognitive dissonance, leading him to even more stress. Deep down inside, despite the sociopathic behaviors, Billy hates that this is an uncontrollable aspect of his brain. Billy wants to be a normal person, Billy wants to be liked, and he doesn’t want to rely on the telephone just to get issues off of his chest. However, something, or some things happened in Billy’s past if he can’t help but behave so hellacious. Billy was so abused and traumatized by events in his childhood, that despite his morality (self sufficient or taught), he can’t help but put on a fight in the name of defending himself. Whatever ridicule, beating, and verbal abuse Billy encountered has cemented into his brain, establishing a psychological illness that leaves him incapable of navigating unfavorable situations other than “attack, attack, attack”.

Billy not being able to control his horrendous actions points to an error in his mind. However, there are many mental illnesses that create a warped view of reality, and a hindered ability to control oneself. So while Billy definitely suffers from a psychological disorder, it’s impossible to get an idea of what exactly he may have...until we use his phone calls to analyze his history and how his mind interprets it, but we’ll have to save that for later in the day.

Anyways, this was my particular analysis of (1974) Billy Lenz’s personality! I wish you all a good ass week, at least better than how I’m reacting to my online class assignments. Remember, stay a simp for slashers.

[hheavenlysinful]

come here kitten~

✘a.s x reader

request:

heyy! i really love your writing and i wanted to send in a request! i was thinking maybe a cute scenario where the reader’s quirk is shapeshifting. and one day while she’s in a cat form aizawa takes her home, just thinking she’s a regular cat. but after a while she has no choice but to turn back into a human! i thought that would be cute to write about. :) thank you!

wc: 1.5k

✘ slight angst, fluff, usage of “daddy”, slightly suggestive (no smut)

✘ an: OMG THIS WAS SO CUTE :((( LIKE :(((((( THANK YOU SM FOR THIS REQ IT WAS FUN TO WRITE! I HOPE YOU ENJOY :) asks are open ^-^

masterlist

YOUR mind was fuzzy, your lithe body trembling with extreme fatigue. it had been a long time since you held your quirk up this long. the last time had ended poorly, with you being bedridden for almost a week. you hoped this time would be different. but as you awkwardly rested on your paws, too tired to hold your head up, you knew that was a false hope. but you had to keep your quirk going if only to keep the tiny ounce of dignity you had left.

you diverted your gaze from the muscular man who leaned on the wall beside you, looking out into the mellow clouds that covered the sky. it had been raining for quite a while now, refusing to stop even for a second. your groan came out as a choked purr as you rolled around on the soft mattress. for a man who never slept, the bed was perfect and so soft. your gaze flitted to aizawa, draped in a loose t-shirt and even more loose sweatpants. you didn't know a cat could blush.

your quirk wasn't unique, or at least not mind-blowing compared to quirks like all rights or aizawa. it was a simple shape-shifting quirk that allowed you to morph into any living creature you had touched. it was great for snooping around unseen and undetected and was even usable in fights, but the consequence for overusing your quirk was just too severe for you to handle. the long, dreaded nights, filled with fevers and chills made you want to jump off a roof. but you loved your life and the people that came in it. especially a certain sleep-deprived teacher who didn't even spare you a glance.

you had known aizawa since you were in high school, had continued to be by his side far after those youthful days. and though aizawa had changed dramatically you still couldn't help but feel that magnetic pull that just kept you in. but it began to dull soon after. it was a curse, you thought, how even after the months of silence, one glance at him had you running right back. you felt hopeless, yearning for a person who you never have. but you were happy that he was starting to come back in your life, after the long bout of no communication.

it had been a random occurrence, the rare time that aizawa ever left the house. today had been crap, to say the least, papers missing, villains being for bold than before. today...today just wasn't your day and it took all your effort to not cry out in annoyance and frustration. but you had waited patiently, like the good hero you were, biting your lip as tears began to form on your waterline. maybe it was the sullen weather or the lack of warmth in your heart, but you headed to a place that often brought you comfort: the playground.

it was old and rusty, almost forgotten, but you still loved it. and although you were far too big to fit in the small little tunnels, you just couldn't help but feel nostalgic when you glanced at them. long-buried memories of you and aizawa flashed in your head, small raindrops starting to drop from the clouds. you paused. the gods it seemed had just granted you a chance to cry.

you focused all your energy in your head, willing yourself to perform one more task before you weep. and in a sudden flash, you were on the ground, looking up at the gigantic playground. your little paws trembled as you clawed your way up into a tunnel, instinctively curling into a ball.

being a cat was much easier than being a human, especially when the small pitter-patter of raindrops masked the quiet whines of sadness that came from your body. you stayed there for a while, letting of quiet mewls as you cursed the universe for its awful tricks. loving someone who would never love you is hard, especially when you can't let go because they were never yours to have. it was truly awful, something you wouldn't wish on your enemy.

small footsteps at you quiet, your body jolting up into a defensive stance, although you didn't know what a kitten-like you could do, other than run away. but when you peered out of the tunnel you swore at the sky once more. for the universe had once again pulled your leg.

you had spotted him first, the long, black hair and sleep-deprived eyes were too distinct. you bit the urge to sprint away, especially as you watched him look around, such sadness lingering in his eyes.

"hmm?"

you jolted at the slight sound, hissing as aizawa's looming shadow covering your entire body.

"what's this?"

his hair was pulled into a messy bun, something you had never seen him where. and holy hell he was fine.

it felt odd having such thoughts as a cat, but you couldn't help it. his mere presence was enough to make you melt.

you purred as you hesitantly walked to him, nudging his arm with your nose.

"you must be hungry," he thoughtfully said as he reached forward picking you up. you squirmed at the sudden change in height, clawing his scarf to stay still. he laughed silently at your squirming figure.

"you can stay with me for the night," he hummed, another sear of heat flowed through your body as you awkwardly sat in his cradled arms. but you purred, resting your chin on his bicep. surely this wasn't a bad thing.

"should i text her," your head snapped up, suddenly jerked back into present time. you purred in confusion. aizawa, to his credit, had involved you in one-sided conversations, often ones where you wanted to answer so bad.

"there's this woman..." he paused as a soft smile painted his lips, "she's amazing and kind, and beautiful."

a surge of jealousy shot through your veins, a hiss echoing into the room.

"but, i pushed her away," he laughed helplessly, running a hand through his hair, "pathetic right?"

"no, you're not pathetic, i understand," is what you wanted to say, but you settled for a small meow.

"y/n,"

you tensed as your name left his lips,

"i wonder how she is, i bet she's happy. she's always been a happy one."

"no, she's not happy, she misses you too. and she wants to be with you and hug you and everything. and she wants you to know she's stupid too, for pushing you away and not trying to talk to you. she...she loves you."

you hated that you were a cat. able to hear every word, but not say anything back.

you knew...you knew somewhere in your heart that there was only one choice. and only the universe would know if it was the right one.

you took a deep breath in, loosening your body and releasing the energy you had kept in from your transformation. it felt comforting, the feeling of human skin of human flesh.

"NO, Y/N ISN'T HAPPY. SHE MISSES YOU AND SHE WANTS TO BE WITH YOU AND SHE WANTS TO DO EVERYTHING WITH YOU. AND NO YOU'RE NOT PATHETIC, Y/N IS THE PATHETIC ONE. SHE LOVED YOU SOO MUCH BUT SHE DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO TALK TO YOU OR ANYTHING. Y/N, SHE..."

"...y/n?"

you watched aizawa's face morph from sadness, to shock, to worry, to surprise.

and if you weren't in his bed, wearing your form-fitting hero costume, you would have laughed your butt off.

"hi?" you waved, turning your body away from aizawa's sight. a blush bloomed on his cheeks, dulling away the previous signs of shock.

"..."

you would have walked to him, but fatigue was taking over your body. you could almost feel the fever that was about to consume your body.

"what are you...what are you doing here?" he motioned wildly at the bed and his room.

"...you brought me here," you snapped back half-heartedly.

"you were the cat." it was more of a statement than a question.

"you," he pointed to you, "were the cat who i talked to you about...you."

you nodded, unable to form coherent words.

"...did you mean what you said?" he quietly asked, walking towards you oh so slowly.

"which part?" you muttered, averting your gaze from intense eyes.

"do...do you..." he sighed, "do you love me?"

you nodded.

he leaned forward, as he did when he picked you up at the tunnel. he grabbed your shoulders, groaning in relief as he leaned his forehead on your shoulder. you stuttered as you gripped his shirt, heart beating erratically.

"a-aizawa?"

"shouta." his voice was grim as he spoke, "call me shouta."

"w-what?"

"call me shouta, or daddy, or whatever you're into," he muttered into the crook of your neck, the warm air made you shiver.

"s-shouta what," you asked incredulously, gripping his shoulders harder.

"oh god, y/n just stop," he groaned, "stop acting so innocent, kitten"

the sinister way he murmured the pet name was enough for you to understand the true meaning behind his words.

what had you gotten yourself into?

[rikalovesrice]

Trollhunters : Rise of The Titans [Rika’s Version!]

AIGHT SO THIS IS WHAT SHOULD’VE FREAKIN’ HAPPENED --

The movie starts a year after Wizards. We see Douxie, Archie, and Nari all settled in Metro City. Douxie managed to get a dinky little apartment and works two jobs. He comes home after a long day to Nari and Archie.

Maybe Nari’s running around chasing after Archie. Maybe the two of them are curled up on the couch and snoozing. Douxie smiles softly, petting Archie’s head and gently brushes Nari’s hair out of her face. Maybe Nari was singing to one of her plants and just beams when Douxie walks through the door. Just Magical Siblings and Their Therapy Cat fluff.

But that night, Douxie wakes up. Something feels very, very wrong. Nari feels it, too. 

Cut to the door to their apartment being busted right through, flames quickly consuming the threshold. To Douxie’s horror, it’s the Arcane Order and he immediately goes on the offensive. This is the first display in the movie of Douxie’s strength as a Master Wizard, his proficiency and skill with his magic as he holds his own against Bellroc and Skrael as he did in Wizards. He tells Archie to take Nari and run but neither of them want to leave him behind. Archie instead fights beside Douxie, urging for Nari to escape while she can. Nari’s reluctant because Douxie and Archie have become so precious to her.

When it looks like they’re about to be done in, Archie wills himself to transform into a huge dragon, taking Douxie and Nari into his claws and flying out of there, busting straight out of the apartment. But not before giving Bellroc and Skrael a thrashing with his tail. They manage to give the Order the slip. For now.

Archie quickly loses steam from holding such a form and crashes on the outskirts of the city, transforming back into a cat. Douxie cradles him in his arms. Nari tends to their wounds with her magic, looking forlorn. 

Douxie frantically dials a number on his phone. 

“Claire? Claire it’s me...” A column of fire erupts in the distance. A shot of Douxie, Archie, and Nari huddled close. “They found us.”

Trollhunters : Rise of the Titans Title Screen

The scene fades in on the new and improved Camelot, where the Lakes are staying. We see Jim spending time with his mother and Walter and it’s lovely. We see a hint of Jim’s trauma when he’s cooking and looks at his reflection in a spatula. He flinches away. He doesn’t want to look at himself. Barbara comforts him, a tender heartfelt moment between them.

Claire then emerges from a shadow portal with grim news : The Arcane Order have found Douxie and Nari.

Jim gathers his friends. Claire shadow portals them all to Douxie, who’s found shelter in a hut Nari made from tree roots. Douxie’s cast a barrier to hide their presence, though it won’t last long. 

It’s a really sweet and awesome reunion. Douxie gives Claire and Steve big hugs. Nari bounds up to Toby and holds his hand. Jim, Krel, and Douxie have a “good to see you again, bro” moment between them. Aaarrgh licks his lips at the sight of Archie.

It’s here that Douxie gives the deets on what’s happened. As they begin to figure out a way to keep Nari safe and away from the Order, Nari suddenly says, “No.”

After almost losing Douxie and Archie, her new family, Nari decides enough is enough. She wants to face her corrupted siblings head-on. To not only protect the world, but her newfound friends. 

Douxie understandably protests. But Nari, gentle but resolute, tells him she’s made up her mind. No more running.

And so, Douxie acquiesces. 

Cue the sequence/fight scene on the train!

Nari realizes what Douxie’s doing when it’s too late. They switch bodies and Douxie’s taken away by the Order. 

“Douxie, I’m so sorry...I couldn’t save her,” Claire laments.

Nari, in Douxie’s body, “N-no...No, I am fine. But Douxie...Douxie!”

Everyone’s like, “Oh no” but then oof, they all get arrested.

The police department scene! With Krel and the Blanks busting everyone out.

Now, we find ourselves back on Camelot where Jim’s being attended to by Walter and Barbara after waking up from a nightmare. Bellroc’s words torment him : “Without your Amulet, you are nothing but a frightened! Little!! BOY!!!”

Walter suggests Jim should lay low, let his friends handle things. Jim reaches a real low point here. Claire provides some comfort. Hand in hand, they make their way to the Round Table, where everyone’s licking their wounds. 

Blinky explains to them that the Order wants to awaken the Titans and need all three members of the Order to do so. While everyone’s relieved that Nari’s safe, Douxie’s now in the Order’s clutches and they want to figure out a way to save him.

Nari, sad and grim, says that Douxie’s spell will eventually wear off.

“He is, as humans say, buying us time...”

Cut to Douxie (in Nari’s body) with the Order. Douxie doesn’t make a sound, not wanting to give anything away. They try the ritual and when it fails, Bellroc and Skrael quickly suspect foul play. They realize that Nari isn’t Nari and proceed to forcefully, painfully, undo Douxie’s spell.

Douxie wakes up, back in his own body. He’s swarmed by his friends, all overcome with relief that he’s alright, but it’s short-lived. The Order has Nari. 

Douxie manages to recall where the Order took him. Before they head out, a downtrodden Jim says he should stay behind, going back to the bed chamber. Claire goes to talk to him, but Douxie stops her.

“Let’s give him some space,” Douxie says gently, though he looks just as concerned for Jim. “In the meantime,” he summons his staff, “we’ll hunt the Order down, put a stop to their schemes, and bring Nari home.”

Everyone heads to the warehouse-train track place (I forgot what it was called rip). Just then, Aja comes flying in, having been contacted by Krel. The Tarron siblings have a sweet, wholesome, long-awaited reunion. Also Staja and Creepslayerz reunited!

Aja cautions Steve about the whole seventh kiss-pregnancy thing and he quickly decides that, yeah no, he’s not quite ready for that. His Alien Queen Muffin (or whatever the heck he called her) is back and that’s all that matters to him. Also wtf Eli’s hot and taller than him now.

There’s a cute moment of Douxie and Aja really meeting for the first time. Aja recognizes him.

“Oh! You were the hand-reading waiter boy!”

Upon hearing she’s a Queen, Douxie’s Medieval chivalry kicks in and he bows at the waist.

“The name’s Hisirdoux, Your Majesty.” After Aja butchers his name, he says “Douxie” will do just fine. 

Nomura abruptly reminds them they don’t have time for pleasantries. They get to it. Douxie figures out the sigil and the illusion fades, revealing the Order performing their ritual with a brainwashed Nari. They’re unable to stop it and the Order members teleport away to join with their respective Titans. We see each of the Titans rising.

The Arcadia Gang regroups back on Camelot to form a plan. Jim, discouraged and deeply troubled, is leaning over a rail, head in his hands. Douxie comes up beside him, silent.

Jim eventually asks how things went. When Douxie tells him they failed and the Titans have risen, Jim feels even more powerless and guilt-ridden.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry, I couldn’t...I can’t do anything. Without the Amulet I’m not the Trollhunter anymore and I’m just...useless--”

Douxie cuts him off, putting a hand on Jim’s shoulder. 

“Jim. That’s not true. Do you remember what I told you? That our strength doesn’t come from special trinkets. Our strength...” Douxie finally gets Jim to look at him, “comes from our friends. From each other. All of us together. That includes you.”

“But...without my Amulet how can I do anything--”

Douxie smiles gently. “By being true to yourself, Jim. As we, your friends, are true to you.”

Just then, Claire joins them and asks if Jim’s okay. Jim smiles as Douxie ruffles his hair.

“I will be. Thanks.”

Jim, Claire, and Douxie find everyone arguing at the Round Table. Aja is wanting to evacuate everyone off of Earth, to which Blinky protests. Everyone just keeps going back and forth until Jim yells for them to stop.

Time to divide and conquer, cutting back and forth between each battle with the Titans.

Aja, Krel, Steve, and Eli tackle the Fire Titan.

Blinky, Toby, and Nomura handle the Ice Titan, with Walter and Barbara steering Camelot.

Jim, Claire, Douxie, and Aaarrgh go for the Earth Titan. Douxie’s hoping to get through to Nari and break her free from the Order’s control.

Aja and Krel fight the Fire Titan side by side on their hoverboard. Steve and Eli help civilians off the bridge and keep them safe. 

Varvatos Vex in his giant robo mech incoming, along with a handful of Akiridion warships.

The Fire Titan proves to be too powerful and defeats Varvatos’ robot, melting down the Akiridion troops in the process. Aja and Krel are knocked down from their hoverboard. They and Varvatos retreat as the Fire Titan continues to burn a path towards its destination.

Toby and Nomura attempt to zipline their way to the Ice Titan to take down Skrael with Akiridion bombs. When the rope fails, Walter extends his wings to save them, but his wings quickly freeze. 

Nomura grabs the bombs and sacrifices herself, bidding a heartwrenching farewell to Toby and her longtime friend, thanking them both. She asks Toby to tell Jim she said goodbye. Ever agile, Nomura scales the Ice Titan and detonates the bombs.

But to everyone’s horror, the Ice Titan only puts itself back together. Walter sinks to his knees. Toby throws down his helmet. Their friend sacrificed herself for nothing.

Aaarrgh is charging after the Earth Titan, Douxie, Jim, and Claire hanging onto his back. Claire shadow portals the three of them onto the Titan’s back. Douxie begins to plead with Nari, even as she constricts him with vines.

Douxie manages to grab her hand. He begins to break the mind-control with his magic, still calling out to Nari as he’s losing the ability to breathe. 

Douxie’s voice reaches her and she breaks free. Nari frantically asks where she is, if she hurt him or his friends. Douxie, overcome with relief, just embraces her.

“You’re here with us, Nari...You’re here with us.”

Nari assures them they have a Titan on their side now. They receive communication from the Tarrons, who warn them that the Ice Titan is getting close to Arcadia.

No time to wonder why Skrael’s headed there. Claire makes a massive shadow portal to Arcadia (the field trip scene!), taking Nari’s Titan with them. Nari tries to reason with Skrael, but he’s having none of it.

NARI VS SKRAEL COMMENCE!

The Tarrons and Creepslayerz arrive on scene. Douxie boards Aja’s hoverboard and together they fire lazers and magic at the Ice Titan. Varvatos dashes and slashes his way up the Titan. Claire, Jim, Krel, Steve, and Eli work to rescue the school bus from getting crushed.

Well, it does get crushed but thankfully everyone made it off. Then, Archie comes flying in with his father, Charlemagne. Charlie flies all the students and Coach to safety. Archie joins Douxie in the air, blasting Skrael with fire.

“C’mon and face the music, Skrael!!!” Douxie summons Spellcaster and starts shredding.

Enraged, Skrael releases a devastating burst of magic that knocks Douxie, Aja, and Varvatos away. Nari seizes the opportunity to impale Skrael’s Titan, but not before Nari’s fatally wounded by him in return. Both Titans collapse.

Douxie runs to Nari, desperately calling her name. She’s on the ground, dying. Everyone gathers around, devastated. Douxie holds Nari in his arms. Archie nuzzles Nari’s arm, tears forming in his eyes. Douxie’s already crying.

“No..No, no, Nari, please...” Douxie holds her hand. “Nari, don’t go, please...!”

“It is okay, Douxie...Do not be sad...”

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry, I said I would protect you...” Douxie leans down, almost touching his forehead to hers (it’s Harry and Dobby y’all). His tears fall onto her face. “I said I would protect you...!”

“You did something greater, Douxie...” Nari squeezes his hand. Tears of her own roll down her cheeks. “You gave me a home. And many, many friends....” Douxie sobs harder, holding her close. “You saved me, Douxie...” She’s beginning to fade. She smiles, her eyes closing. “Thank you...Thank...”

Nari fades, wisps of magic and flower petals slipping through Douxie’s fingers. Douxie wails, Archie pressing close. Jim and Claire lay their hands on his shoulders. Claire hugs him.

Krel is then alerted that the Fire Titan is also on the move towards Arcadia.

Everyone reconvenes on Camelot. They all mourn the deaths of Nomura and Nari. 

They learn that Bellroc is headed towards Arcadia, the center of the universe, because that’s where the last Heartstone is. If at least one Titan reaches the Heartstone, the world will be wiped clean.

Before they head out, Douxie and the Tarrons present Jim with a brand new Amulet, forged from magic and Akiridion technology. That, and the stone in which Excaliber lodged itself. Douxie encourages Jim to try once more. 

Jim steps up on the stone, gazing fondly at his friends around him. They all place their hands on the stone in support. Jim pulls Excaliber from the stone. Everyone cheers for him.

Douxie’s seen texting someone.

FINAL SHOWDOWN IN ARCADIA

Bellroc is seen making their way towards the Heartstone. But what stands between them and the prize is the Guardians of Arcadia. 

Charlemagne, Archie, and Walter soar above. Blinky and Aaarrgh lead an army of trolls. More Akiridion fleets arrive, Aja and Krel at the helm. Varvatos has a brand new robo, too.

Bellroc sneers at their defiance and summons an army of their own : hundreds of big rocky lava monsters.

BATTLE OF THE MOST EPIC OF PROPORTIONS IS A GO.

Trolls are punching, Akiridions are blasting, magicians are casting.

JIM SUITS UP WITH HIS NEW ARMOR AND EXCALIBER AND IS LIKE DON’T THINK BECOMIN’ FOR YA BELLROC FOR THE GOOD OF AAAAAAAALL

Douxie conjures up a spell to send that boy flying onto that Fire Titan.

Toby and Aaarrgh slam and hammer their way through fiery goons. Claire and Aja team up to take down the opposition, noting they should get lunch together sometime. Charlemagne tears through the enemies with his claws and wings. Krel and the Creepslayerz flail about and kick tail anyway. 

Our heroes all cover one another and play off of each other’s strengths and it’s beautiful.

When Douxie’s about to get smothered by lava fists, there’s a flash of lightening and the monsters vaporize. 

Douxie turns to see Zoe with a brigade of hedge wizards. Douxie’s immediately bowled over, smitten.

“About time you showed up...,” Douxie says, in a daze cause wow Zoe’s so pretty.

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of nerve --” Explosions. More lava monsters. Zoe sighs and pats Douxie’s cheek. “Ugh, focus, you big sap!”

The pair are unstoppable together, mowing down the lava monsters in powerful bursts of blue and pink.

DOUXIE’S EYES GO BLUE AND ZOE’S EYES GO PINK EPIC AVATAR STATE RINGS OF MAGIC AS THEY DECIMATE THEIR FOES WITH ROCK MUSIC BLARING YESSSS

And well, Douxie can’t help himself and gives Zoe a good long smooch after they’ve destroyed half of Bellroc’s army.

Toby in the distance : HOW LONG HAS THAT BEEN A THING?????

Archie just groans.

And meanwhile, Jim’s finally facing off with Bellroc. After having one of the most badass fights in the franchise, Jim comes out on top, skewering Bellroc in the stomach with Excaliber.

AND BOOM THEY DID IT GUYS EARTH IS SAVED.

....But not without great cost.

Toby’s been mortally wounded, crushed by the falling pieces of the Fire Titan. There’s the tearful, heartbreaking moment Jim has to say goodbye to his best friend, the one who was there with him through it all.

“We did it, Jimbo...We did it...”

Jim holds Toby in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Claire holds Jim and weeps beside him. Aaarrgh is in hysterics but is calmed to pained whimpers by Blinky. The Arcadia Gang grieves, feeling the painful weight of losing the friends they held so dear....Nomura, Nari, and now Toby.

Time Skip/Montage

Douxie found a proper apartment in Arcadia. He keeps a potted plant with those distinct pink flowers, the flowers Nari loved, on his windowsill. Smiles softly at them every time. 

Scenes of Mary with Darci as she mourns. Steve and Eli hanging out. Douxie and Krel jamming, Krel creating beats and Douxie riffing on his guitar. Aja and Claire going on that lunch date. Archie taking a nap on top of Aaarrgh. Walter playing classical music.

It’s taken a while, but Jim’s starting to feel a little bit better. Douxie, Krel, Steve, and Eli came over for some bro time. Seeing the pain in his eyes, Douxie gives Jim a hug.

The final scene is a picnic at everyone’s favorite spot in Arcadia with a single bench and an awesome view of the town.

Aja and Steve are cuddling. Krel and Eli play with a frisbee. Blinky, Aaarrgh, and Varvatos laugh around a table. Douxie and Zoe, holding hands, are having a lively chat with Claire. Jim serves up a huge plate of enchiladas.

Walter and Barbara announce their engagement. Everyone celebrates. 

EMOTIONAL SPEECH VOICEOVER TIME.

Aja, Varvatos, and Eli depart back to Akiridion-5. Steve honks into a tissue. Krel pats him on the back as he waves to his sister.

Barbara kisses Jim on the forehead before going home with Walter.

Zoe kisses Douxie on the cheek and heads off. 

Steve and Krel are the next to go.

Douxie, Archie around his shoulders, pulls both Jim and Claire into a hug before leaving.

Blinky gives Jim a hug. Aaarrgh nuzzle him, looking sad. 

Jim and Claire hold hands and sit on the bench, gazing out at the town.

EMOTIONAL SPEECH VOICEOVER ENDS T_T

The End.

[yanderenightmare]

ik this is like maybe... taboo on a yandere blog, but say the Bakugo's still yandere and the darling is afraid, but just not enough to feel positively disgusted... could we like (points finger guns at each other and taps, rub the tip of my foot into the ground, scratches the back of my neck, shy smile) could we get a soft kiss? Bakugo and a soft kiss, still Bakugo but soft, idk you do it best!

yandere ! BNHA fluff

goodiebag WARNINGS: FLUFF, obsession

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

There she was. Looking like victory, looking like that sweet deserved prize you can taste on your tongue right before barreling over the finish-line, eager thrill and heart-blown triumph and such soft bliss once you stand on the other side, out of breath and forgetting everything else in the world. 

He’d been so good, so fucking perfect these last weeks, the best, just like he’d promised, just like he’d vowed, and now he would finally get that taste, that ambrosial taste, allowed to bask in it, to roll it around his tongue, run it through his teeth, finally feel it between his hands, rake and dig his fingers into it. 

He had been sweet and soft and kind. Well-behaved; refraining from getting into fights with whomever dared look at him in a manor he deemed wrong and calling randoms on the street alike his best mates unsavory names. Even boyfriendly; asking her about her day, opening up and telling her about his day, what he was feeling, scared beyond his wits throughout it all, free-falling and so very uncomfortably vulnerable, yet always met with a soft warm landing when she’d place a hand on his cheek, kiss his forehead, smile at him, answering him with equally squishy details he had no idea he even liked hearing until hanging off of each and every syllable, feeling that monstrous urge to rip his heart from his chest and stomp on it, make it bleed instead of flutter with that stupid ticklish tingling she’d cripple him with.

But he’d kept his ground, manned the posts, kept the beast at bay, roaring and clawing inside the cage of his chest, allowing the girl to softly tame the rabid hound with cotten-soft hands petting his head. 

His foot was only barely subdued from shaking in vigor as she swung her leg over his thighs, positioning herself on his lap when the credits to what movie they’d been watching started rolling, soft music playing sweetly in the background, black screen throwing the room into an intimate dark, one that calls for certain things you do in the night, and hopefully dark enough to hide what positively red rouge tinted his cheeks as he felt her press down on where something was sleeping beneath the layers of his clothes.

He was beyond ready, beyond starving, hands so very frigid yet still with a practiced touch remained steady and deceptively calm as he placed them on her hips, grabbing onto the ample soft skin found at her waist, suppressing the urge to squeeze and settling for messaging in slow careful meandering strokes with his thumb. 

He felt like attacking, like pouncing and trapping, like ripping clothes off, but knew that wasn't the way to win this particular fight.

His hand stirred again, ascending, perhaps too wantonly, but she didn't seem to mind as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fingers with labored finger-pads tracing her jaw, thumb swiping over her lips, cupping her chin, thumb and index-finger pressing into the plump squishy flesh of her cheeks, making her pout. He couldn't hold back the impulse that sent his tongue to swipe over his lip, but found quickly a way to save himself from the lacking display of control. “Are you ready?” He asked, as though actually giving her a choice, voice as calm as he could muster it, trying to withhold the strained timber of hormones that fought so badly to be released.

“I’m ready.” She managed to say weakly, her head bowed to look at him, eyes big and beautiful and glorious as he drank in her gaze. 

He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side, pulling her in with a gracious touch when leaning in to kill the space between their lips. Smoothly brushing his stiff lips against her pillowy-soft ones, slightly parting to receive another meeting, and again and again with more and more pressure, quite like the increasing drumming of their pulse. 

He pulled away to search her eyes, realizing he’d maybe been squeezing her neck to harshly when wrapping his hand away from holding her chin, before pushing his lips back onto hers, kissing her more earnestly and desperately than before. The arm kept around her waist moved, also in favor of rising to head-level, gently cupping her cheek as he deepened the kiss. Letting out a ragged gasp as he pried her mouth open, she leant back on his lap, away from his boyish needy hunger and his tongue slipping inside her mouth and tangling with hers. She was still as a statue then, her face held between his hands, unsure of what to do now that the boy had claimed full control, unsure of what she wanted to do. Then, against her own will, did a tiny meager whimper escape her mouth, making him pull away with a soft rugged chuckle, gently stroking her cheek with his knuckles. “Shh, Pumpkin, I won’t bite.” He promised, cooing softly at her, his nose touching hers. Red eyes glinting, pooling with black, predatory heat within them causing a surprisingly pleasant shiver to slide up her spine, though not withholding the squeal of panic as he maneuvered with the speed and tactful precision of a true hero-course student, spinning them around and dropping her carefully on her back, now looming above her, with tenfold more control of what he had earlier.

His index finger stroked her chin before raising it for her to look up at him... or maybe for him to look down at her. For him to enjoy seeing her flushed red in all her bashful glory. It was a different feeling than seeing her smile and laugh, different from looking at her in hope she’d look back at him, no longer chasing but having his prey caught, ready to sink his teeth in, different, but nevertheless... still good. His other hand stroked a wisp of hair behind her ear as the locks had gone wild in the tumble of his actions, groping her face to lean in closer.

He pressed his lips against hers again, and though surprised and with a heart beating like a hummingbird, she slid her own hand around his waist, the other tangled in the hair at the back of his neck, legs climbing up on his back, hooking over his hips and pulling him closer.

She felt his lips curl up into a smirk. His hand splayed on her stomach, having crawled up her shirt to rub circles into the soft skin of her belly, as he gently buried his other hand in her soft silken hair, pulling her head closer to his. 

As he drew his mouth from hers he started kissing a trail of pecks down her jaw, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, drooling with such suppressed lust he groaned into the dip between her shoulder and neck, unsure if he could hold back once he started feeling the blood rush and pump and fuel down to his length, unsure if she was ready to take all that he wanted to give her, unsure if she was willing to give all he was going to take.

[astradrifting]

 AGOT - Jon I (Chapter 5)

There were times—not many, but a few—when Jon Snow was glad he was a bastard. As he filled his wine cup once more from a passing flagon, it struck him that this might be one of them.

I don’t know why D&D decided Jon could never lie, when literally the first line in his POV is a lie. He’s so good at it he can even lie to himself!

****

A singer was playing the high harp and reciting a ballad, but down at this end of the hall his voice could scarcely be heard above the roar of the fire, the clangor of pewter plates and cups, and the low mutter of a hundred drunken conversations.

A singer with a high harp and a ballad seems like a vague Rhaegar allusion. That Jon can’t actually hear him makes me happy in a very petty way.

****

His lord father had come first, escorting the queen. She was as beautiful as men said. A jeweled tiara gleamed amidst her long golden hair, its emeralds a perfect match for the green of her eyes. His father helped her up the steps to the dais and led her to her seat, but the queen never so much as looked at him. Even at fourteen, Jon could see through her smile.

I think this part is actually Jon being indignant on Ned’s behalf that Cersei was rude to him, by not looking at him when he escorts her, not that she never looked at Jon. Also, there’s those observation skills. He’s never been taken in by a pretty smile.

****

After them came the children. Little Rickon first, managing the long walk with all the dignity a three-year-old could muster. Jon had to urge him on when he stopped to visit.

Adorable!!!

****

Jon noticed the shy looks she gave Robb as they passed between the tables and the timid way she smiled at him. He decided she was insipid. Robb didn’t even have the sense to realize how stupid she was; he was grinning like a fool.

Jon’s a mean drunk I guess 💀

****

Sansa, two years older, drew the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. He was twelve, younger than Jon or Robb, but taller than either, to Jon’s vast dismay. Prince Joffrey had his sister’s hair and his mother’s deep green eyes. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon did not like Joffrey’s pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell’s Great Hall.

Joffrey according to Jon: 👁👄👁

But Sansa looked radiant 🥰

****

He was more interested in the pair that came behind him: the queen’s brothers, the Lannisters of Casterly Rock. The Lion and the Imp; there was no mistaking which was which. Ser Jaime Lannister was twin to Queen Cersei; tall and golden, with flashing green eyes and a smile that cut like a knife. He wore crimson silk, high black boots, a black satin cloak. On the breast of his tunic, the lion of his House was embroidered in gold thread, roaring its defiance. They called him the Lion of Lannister to his face and whispered “Kingslayer” behind his back. Jon found it hard to look away from him.

This is what a king should look like, he thought to himself as the man passed.

Giving me big ‘muscled like a maiden’s fantasy’ vibes there, Jon.

Also, curiously enough Jaime’s introduced wearing black and red, Targaryen colours. Maybe a nod to the incest storyline, possibly leftover foreshadowing from when Jaime was going to become king, as per the outline.

Otherwise this means that, like everybody else in this story, Jaime is a secret Targaryen. He and Cersei can join the ranks of Jon, Tyrion, Varys, Mance Rayder and while we’re at it… *spins a wheel of names* Meera too.

****

His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too.

His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke.

Jon spends half this chapter on the verge of tears, my angsty little lad.

****

Jon looked up happily as his uncle Ben put a hand on his head and ruffled his hair much as Jon had ruffled the wolf’s.

They actually call him Ben and ‘uncle Ben’ a few times in the series, which I honestly think might be a Spider-Man allusion. Surrogate father figure Uncle Ben’s early disappearance/death kicking off the plot… There’s also a saying that nobody stays dead in comics except for Uncle Ben - considering all the other resurrections in the books, metaphorical and literal, yet GRRM says that Benjen isn’t Coldhands, it might be the same for this Uncle Ben too.

****

Jon swelled with pride. “Robb is a stronger lance than I am, but I’m the better sword, and Hullen says I sit a horse as well as anyone in the castle.”

"[Garlan] is a great knight," Ser Loras replied. "A better sword than me, in truth, though I'm the better lance." (ASOS, Sansa I)

Love a Jon-Garlan parallel! Also thinking about Garlan being the older brother made me realise - in the story everyone thinks that Jon is younger than Robb, but timeline-wise, he has to be older, because Robb was conceived in the two weeks before Ned left to fight at the Trident, and Rhaegar must have at least already been in the capital by then to rally the loyalists, so Jon was conceived weeks, if not months earlier. Which means that Ned has definitely lied about when Jon’s birthday is.

Jon being the product of a ‘youthful indiscretion’ before he was married is less of a stain on Ned’s honour than him betraying his marriage bed but I imagine Catelyn’s fears about Jon usurping her children might have had more basis if he was known to be the eldest, so maybe that’s why Ned lied about how old he is.

****

“Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne,” Jon said. The Young Dragon was one of his heroes. 

"A conquest that lasted a summer," his uncle pointed out. "Your Boy King lost ten thousand men taking the place, and another fifty trying to hold it. Someone should have told him that war isn't a game." He took another sip of wine. "Also," he said, wiping his mouth, "Daeron Targaryen was only eighteen when he died. Or have you forgotten that part?"

Jon is unfortunately, a jock. And a bit of an idiot. 

There’s something about Jon’s hero dying at 18, Waymar dying at 18 just a few chapters ago... Jon has them all beat by dying at 17.

****

"You are a boy of fourteen," Benjen said. "Not a man, not yet. Until you have known a woman, you cannot understand what you would be giving up."

"I don't care about that!" Jon said hotly.

"You might, if you knew what it meant," Benjen said. "If you knew what the oath would cost you, you might be less eager to pay the price, son."

Jon felt anger rise inside him. "I'm not your son!"

Benjen Stark stood up. “More’s the pity.”

Establishing Benjen as a somewhat contentious father figure to Jon - even more fuel for my brand new Uncle Ben ‘theory’.

****

The wolf pup padded closer and nuzzled at Jon's face, but he kept a wary eye on Tyrion Lannister, and when the dwarf reached out to pet him, he drew back and bared his fangs in a silent snarl. 

"Shy, isn't he?" Lannister observed.

"Sit, Ghost," Jon commanded. "That's it. Keep still." He looked up at the dwarf. "You can touch him now. He won't move until I tell him to. I've been training him."

Possibly he and Sansa are the only ones who properly trained their direwolves, considering how the rest of them will end up behaving.

****

“If I wasn’t here, he’d tear out your throat,” Jon said. It wasn’t actually true yet, but it would be.

Pffffft! Edgy edgy edge-lord 💀

Though I also always feel like issuing casual threats to Tyrion Lannister so I can’t really blame him.

****

Standing, he was taller than the dwarf. It made him feel strange.

He’s got a weird preoccupation with comparing his height to Lannister men in this chapter. My headcanon for the books is that Jon’s quite tall by ADWD but evidently he’s tiny in AGOT if he feels strange being tall next to a dwarf.

****

final thoughts:

Believe it or not, I didn’t actually have Jonsa in mind with my new Uncle Ben theory, but I did just remember that brown haired Peter Parker’s main love interest is red-haired MJ :P

[aspiringauthorintraining]

Sands of Eon (2/2)

(A/N): hoped you liked the first part. Enjoy! Read with sad music cause I wrote it with sad music. I hope you cry lol.

Part 1 here!

Fighting in a battle changes a person. But surviving an Archon war destroys them.

At least now, you had a better understanding of what Xiao went through before. And seeing how it affected you, it made you all the more thankful that you could suffer in place of Xiao.

Once you arrived in the past, you had successfully prevented the contract between Kubira and Xiao from coming to fruition. It was simple really. Kubira wanted a servant to do his bidding, and figured Xiao would be perfect for the role. But if the god were to find someone before Xiao, someone who was willing to become his bloodhound instead, there would be no reason for him to actively search out the adeptus. In short, you took over Xiao’s role in the war. It was the only plan that would change the outcome of the war and the future the least, without having others get involved.

All it took was offering yourself. You had surprised the god, who was amused that a mere human would want to serve in his army. But he decided to humor you, and in exchange for your obedience to his orders, he granted you immortality and increased power. By the end of the forsaken war, your power had become strong enough to rival an adeptus’. At the price of insurmountable bloodshed.

You hadn’t seen Xiao during the war, something that you were thankful for later on.

Not a day would pass that you wouldn’t think of him; hesitating, wondering if you would be able to face him after all that you had done. If he would look at you in disgust, knowing of all the deeds you had done for your master. If it would be worth facing his hatred, just to get a glimpse of his face once more.

Once the long war reached its end, Rex Lapis freed you from the chains of your blood-filled servitude. You had considered asking the archon to bring an end to your curse of immortality, but decided against it.

You could have had a merciful death, spending the last of your days as a human. But you didn’t deserve such an easy death, not after all the inhumane sins you committed. What you truly deserved, was to live every day of the rest of your immortal life; remembering every life you had taken, every drop of blood shed with your polearm, never being able to escape the horrors you submitted yourself to. You would continue to roam Teyvat, neither human nor adeptus, barely surviving, barely hanging on the thread of sanity left in you. Never forgetting that you had chosen your fate.

And the selfish part of you urged you to keep your immortality as well. You held onto the selfish desire to see Xiao one day, smiling and celebrating, surrounded by the people of Liyue. Blissfully unaware of what you endured and suffered, in his stead.

And as a millennia passed, you never once regretted changing your fate with Xiao’s. You had made your choice, and you now lived with it.

Your life followed in the steps of Xiao’s original fate, spending your days and years protecting Liyue; an atonement for your sins, as well as gratitude to the Geo Archon who saved you. On quiet days, you ate Almond Tofu at the Wangshu Inn, finally understanding why the adeptus had craved the dish so much before. It was the texture, rather than the taste that made it so alluring.

Avoiding the yaksha in the millennia had been easier than you thought. The only way you would hear about Xiao was through the Geo archon, who came to visit every now and then, checking up on you from time to time. He would update you on the man’s whereabouts and health during each visit, keeping the adeptus nameless, per your request.

“I don’t remember my real name.”

“Xiao isn’t your real name?”

“No, it was given to me by Morax after the Archon War…”

Xiao wasn’t his name anymore, and you figured not knowing his name would prevent you from ever seeking him. The less you knew, the better.

“It’s the last night of the Lantern Rite festival, (Y/N).”

Verr Goldet informs you as you greet her on your way up the stairs.

“Is it that time already?” you asked with a small smile. You reached down to pet the cat who rubbed her back against your leg with a purr.

“The traveler stopped by to let you know his invitation to join him and his flying companion at the festival still stands.”

You looked out at the terrace, watching the violet, sunset sky turn darker with each minute.

“You know me. I’m fine watching from the roof.” you responded, shaking your head.

The Wangshu owner gave a sigh at your response.

“At least go to the mountains for a better view. I’ll pack you an Almond Tofu so you can eat dinner up there while watching the ending festivities.”

Seeing her pleading face, you couldn’t reject her suggestion.

You finally reached the top of the mountain, giving you a good view of the city of Liyue, as well as the lanterns floating in the sky. Looking down into the city square, you could see the people of Liyue celebrating the last moments of the festival: children running around with last-minute made lanterns, lovers gathered near the bridge hand-in-hand, and Ruijin explaining the rules of her new game to the curious crowd. But it was the crowd gathered in the center, dancing in a big circle that grabbed your attention.

You spotted a figure dressed in teal, playing a flute instead of his usual lyre, providing music for the crowd to dance to. You smiled seeing the anemo archon having the time of his life. And it seemed that one more figure was having the time of his life, in the center of the dancing circle, wearing a mask and dancing along to the bard’s wind music.

Your breath hitched at the sight of the figure. Even with the mask on, you could recognize him anywhere. It was your first time seeing him in over a millennia, and you could still remember his face, down to every last detail.

Before you knew it, tears streamed down your face, the sight of finally seeing him overwhelming you with emotions.  

“Looks like your wish was granted too.” you laughed happily through your tears, remembering what he had wrote on the lantern you once gave him long ago.

“For a day to come to wear the mask, not to conquer demons, but to dance to the tune of that flute amidst a sea of flowers.”

                                                                                           - Xiao

As he continued dancing, you were entranced, never being able to see this side of him before your time venture.

It was only when the ending rite began that he had stopped his movement, taking his mask off to properly watch the show. Your heart stopped at the sight of his face, a small smile gracing his features. And it wasn’t until the ending fireworks rang in your ears, that your heart was reminded to beat again, realizing you had spent the whole ending festival watching him.

You took a moment to look out at the vast sea of lanterns, wondering if Xiao had made one of his own, and what wish he had written on the lantern. Taking one last look at the brightly-lit night sky, you turned your attention back to the city, watching as a group of people surrounded Xiao with smiles on their faces. And at the sight of his responding smile, all the pain you had endured up til now was forgotten.

“Xiao.” you called out quietly.

It was the wrong name, but it was the only one you knew him by.

The yaksha darted his eyes around the crowd, seemingly as if he had heard you call out to him. Although, it was far too loud with festivities in the square, and the distance between the two fo you, that it wasn’t likely.

“Happy Lantern Rite.” you whispered, a tear falling down your cheek.

It was worth it. Seeing the smile on his face, surrounded by the people of Liyue who respected him. It was worth your loneliness and pain, to save him from his. Being the only one to remember everything would be a suffering you would gladly take for his happiness.

So, you forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the his figure, away from the lantern-lit city. And silently, you headed down the mountain, back to Wangshu Inn, alone.

(A/N): AhhHHH!, you’ve made it to the end! Thank you for reading! I felt so sad playing the story quest for Xiao during the Lantern Rite festival. I planned on having a happy ending but just ended up going on an angst spiral. Let me know what you thought! I’m thinking of doing another part with a possibly happier ending, but we’ll see if I’m up for it lol. Again thank you for reading! Safe readings!

Like, comment, subscribe, ring the bell for notifications for more videos. jk lol, this isn’t youtube. Just play some Genshin.

[boldlyvoid]

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It

Criminal Minds x MINDHUNTER AU

Spencer Reid x Margaret Carr (OC)

Part 1: Ed Kemper.

Summary: Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

warnings: graphic details of a real rape and murder case, like every trigger in the book, applies to this fic so read with caution (if you watch either show you're used to it, however), it's all real and did actually happen and I don't support any of it. strangers to lovers, mutual pining, flirting, fluff, eventual smut, idiots in love, OC is Wendy Carr's daughter, her bio father is Jason Gideon

word count: 3.9K

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun teaching.

He started with guest speaking, moving to special seminars a few times a year. But he wanted something more, settling for a 7-week criminal justice elective of his choosing.

Intro to Criminal Minds: why they did it. Giving Spencer an excuse to share the most intimate facts about serial offenders in a setting where no one could tell him to shut up.

14 students total signed up for the two-hour Seminar, taking place every Thursday at 11 am from September until Halloween. Over the 7 weeks, he would explain the fascinating insights of the most successful killers in the United States. Only asking that his students write about a prolific crime they find interesting by the end of term, for their full grade.

All he wanted was to read about obscure killers from around the world, from the perspective of aspiring profilers.

The first Thursday, he came prepared with his coffee a half hour before the class. He wanted to write the main points on the whiteboard in advance, nice and neatly.

To his surprise, a student was already there waiting for him. "Oh, hello,” he smiled softly.

She was sitting with a book in her hands, she pushed her glasses up her nose to look at him as he walked in. She was older than his typical student, around 35. Probably finishing up a degree or adding something to what she already had.

"Hi," she smiled at him. “Sorry, I’m early, I was visiting my mom at Quantico earlier.” She explained. "I'm not a teacher's pet or anything. Promise, I’m not even a student.”

It made him laugh slightly, correcting him like she read his mind. "It's okay, I'm Doctor Reid," he introduced himself softly.

“Margaret Carr, Peggy is also fine.”

"Pleasure to meet you," he said quickly before focusing his attention on the whiteboard.

He could feel her eyes on him the whole time he wrote, not wanting to turn around and catch her. "That's so interesting," he heard her mumble under her breath.

"Hmm?" He turned around.

"It's just that, everyday occurrences that never phase the regular person somehow cause psychopaths to kill," she read the board back to him.

"I was reading a study a while back about how psycho killers medulla oblongata is approximately 19% smaller than the average human’s. Based on the way they're nurtured as children affects if they grow up to kill. The ones that don't often end up in law enforcement and other positions of power where their psychopathic tendencies can come to play."

He was taken aback for a moment. He had never experienced a student who was like him before. Someone who just pulled facts into conversations like it was nothing.

"I read that as well," he smiled. "It is fascinating. The smallest amount of bullying and abuse from a mother or disappearance of a father figure can set them off."

"Or, on the other hand, there are people like Ted Bundy," she added. "He was well-loved and taken care of, but it went to his head. His god complex and affinity for lying led him to be incredibly charismatic and enabled his killing."

"You're very educated on this already; are you just interested in hearing me speak today?" He asked, not wanting her to leave, finding it interesting that she was there.

"Oh," she blushed. "I was going to talk to you more about it after the seminar actually."

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you,” he felt a little giddy at the prospect.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Seriously though, I'm a big fan of your teaching style, I saw a few of your classes when my dad was teaching at the academy in 2005. It's a lot easier to remember facts if the lecturer genuinely loves what they're talking about."

"You're going to like this Seminar then. It’s basically just a way for me to get paid while unloading all the random facts I have,” he warned her with a smile.

"I know." She smiled back at him.

The rest of his students filed in slowly. By 11 am, 14 faces were staring back at him.

"Hello," he waved awkwardly. "I'm dr. Spencer Reid. For the last 12 years, I've worked with the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. Catching serial offenders across the country."

He took a deep breath, letting the nerves find their way out of him. "I've been asked time and time again who my favourite serial killer is, which is a peculiar way to phrase the question. It feels morally wrong to have a favourite in the way people do with baseball players.

"I am, however, fascinated with several serial offenders' reasoning and explanation for why they did what they did. Every single killer is different, but it all comes back to 1 thing. Do you know what that is?"

They all shook their heads. “What is your relationship with your parents like?" He asked. 

Everyone in the room reacted; some students sighed, some rolled their eyes as they recalled their parents and childhoods to memory.

"When a person decides to kill, it's often never in the moment. It's in childhood. The majority of serial offender's stories start the same; their mother didn't love them, their father left. Someone at home abused them or put them down repeatedly."

"Thus, causing a hatred so primal to bubble. No matter how hard they try and fight it, the bubble always bursts. They go from fantasizing to killing in retaliation for their abuse, taking the anger out in stages."

He referred to the board. "Every killer has a stressor and a trigger—something that causes the urge to bubble and the event that causes the bubble to rupture.”

"Edmund Kemper is a fascinating example of this. He grew up with a family for the first few years of his life before his father fully abandoned them. His mother handled the situation by turning her anger onto her son; it was his fault his father left, he looked just like him, Ed was just another useless man who would never amount to anything," he emphasized the words. Hoping the class sees the effects words have on children.

"He started by cutting up dolls, stealing his sister's barbies and cutting their heads off. In his mind, he was getting out his anger and hatred for how his mother saw him. She hated men, causing him to mature with a warped idea of what women are truly like."

"His attraction to killing worsened his mother's hatred; she could tell something was wrong with him, that he didn't react to everyday situations the way he should. By the time he was ten, she was locking him in the basement for days on end, telling him he was a monster and her biggest regret."

"The change in her rage amplified his own. He hated hearing her speak. He hated the way she walked around, thinking she was better than him. That just because she was a mother and a working woman, she deserved respect and submissive’s. All he could see was a woman with a big head who needed to be humbled. This is the moment when the psychotic side of his brain blended his hatred of his mother with how good it felt to kill."

"Is that why he, you know?" Peggy cut in, running her finger along her neck as she pretended to cut her head off.

He pressed his lips together in an awkward smile, nodding. "His signature, as it's called, was decapitation. But more specifically necrophiling the severed head of his victims."

The whole class let out a disgusted noise, Peggy and Spencer making eye contact while they shrugged, it wasn't news to them.

"At age ten, he moved from barbies to cats and dogs, never leaving them around for his mother to see. While he hated her, he was also absolutely terrified of her. Breading a special type of killer. When you think of school shooters or preferential predators, what do they have in common?" He asked.

He pointed at a student in the back. "They have a specific type of victim they’re after?"

"Exactly. Most serial offenders want to go after the cause of their pain or attraction. However, Ed wasn't able to kill the source of his rage for a long time. His mother mentally abused him so intensely that he believed she was in control of him and that her opinion of him mattered. He saw her as his God, he loved her, but he also knew that he disappointed her.

"He ran away soon after to find his father. Travelling to California, only to be told he was unwanted there as well. It wasn't just his mother that his father was escaping; it was the fundamental aspect of family that he didn't want. Ed defiantly didn't want to go back to his mother after that, so he moved in with his paternal grandparents."

He kept catching the looks on Peggy's face. She knew the story already, waiting patiently to hear the words he chose to make the horrific acts seem a little more conversational.

"His grandmother was exactly like his mother. If I had to guess, his father most likely had a distaste for his own mother and thus divorced Ed's mom. Only he never grew up to be a killer, just an absent father—his absence doing to Ed what never happened to him."

"Ed killed his grandparents when he was 15. Telling the police and his therapists that they had beaten him constantly, they refused to feed him and called him names. He said he snapped from the trauma; it was self-defence."

Peggy laughed to herself, making him smile softly. "Sending him to a mental hospital instead of a juvenile facility was the worst thing they could've done for him," Spencer added.

"Why?" A student asked.

"Ed is a psychopath." He reminded them. "He doesn't feel empathy the way we do. You can admit that you feel bad for him, yes? If you understand why he killed people, it doesn't make you sick, like him, it makes you human. You see a hurt person hurting others; Ed Kemper sees himself as a new sort of God, choosing who dies, how and when."

"He was brilliant, having the exact IQ as I do," just a humblebrag, "the staff trusted him. He looked like an innocent boy, smart enough to take matters into his own hands for the betterment of his life. They gave him computer privileges, they let him work the front desk and file patient information. Giving him all the resources to learn about who he was inside and how to get away with it perfectly."

"Damn," another kid added. "When did he get out?"

"At 21.” He answered the student quickly. “Ed was interviewed by my mentor Jason Gideon, in the 70s. Where he explained that being locked up during his sexual prime, as well as the access to information, is what truly set him off more than his mother.

"He moved back in with her and his sister when he came out of the institution, immediately returning to the constant ridicule. He went from being told all the time that he was a smart and charming young man, capable of rehabilitation to a useless, no-good son, who would have been better off collecting in a condom or running down her leg."

The whole class laughed, shocked at his repetition of Ed's mother's words.

"He got his licence when he was released. And remember, this was prime time for hitchhiking in California; everyone and their mother walked the roads with a thumb in the air. It was the birth of free love and recreational marijuana usage. It was also the best hunting ground for a learning serial killer."

"He was able to pick women up, but like I said, missing his sexual prime while in an institution made him almost impotent. He didn't know how to speak to women; he had to create a fantasy in his mind every time, one that involved killing, before he could look at a woman."

"How did he get them in his car then?" A voice asked from the back.

"He was 6'9, 300lbs; he looked like a big teddy bear. And his mother was the local college administrative assistant, so the whole town knew him anyway. If Ed offered to give them a ride, it wouldn't be that bad, right?" Peggy turned around to face the class as she explained for Spencer, who just shook his head.

"He only wanted to rape the victims, originally," Spencer added. "But he couldn't. There was no release of the tension. The bubble that had been growing inside him was at its breaking point; he needed to just do it. Get it over with and move on."

"He killed 6 women in succession after that. Gaining the name "The Co-Ed Killer," well before anyone even suspected Ed Kemper," Spencer took a sip of coffee, feeling his throat start to dry as they reached the insane part.

"He was overly friendly with the cops; he wanted to get his record expunged and join the force.” Spencer finally continued. “Being told, "don't worry about your record, worry about your weight.""

"Most killers enjoy wearing a uniform for the power and talking to the police about their cases, in the hopes of gauging how smart they really are—taking pride in the fact that they are getting away with it for so long."

"He watched all the cop shows, and he read all the books. He knew that in order to get away with it, he had to do it where no one could trace it back to him. He knew he had to keep his cool and avoid looking obsessed with the case, but just curious enough to gain insight into how they thought he was doing it. It went on for years, and they had absolutely zero leads, finding headless bodies every few months before they finally received a call." He left them hanging, walking over to his sheet of paper and pretending to read it while they anticipated the catch.

"Ed always knew that he wanted to kill his mother. He just never knew when,” Spencer teased the story along. Noticing as the students fidgeted in their seats as they wondered what happened next.

“In his interview with Gideon, Ed said that he knew she would die 7 days before he killed her. He walked into her room that night to find her reading, with the audacity to ask if he wanted to come in and chat all night. Teasing him for the way he rambled to her. It was the last time she ever did that."

"It's hard to imagine his signature with the fact his second last victim was his mother," Peggy added, cringing at the thought.

"Wait," another student interjected. "Who was his last kill then if he only really wanted to kill her?"

"Remember how I said he lacked empathy?" Spencer asked. "He loved his mother in the same way a prisoner can end up loving their captor."

Peggy nods at the comparison, looking like she's never thought of it that way before, then smiling at him.

"You grow a bond through the trauma and when the only thing you've ever known is violence and hate, you don't know what to do when that's gone, it's hard to cope."

"He said he killed his mother so that she never had to know what he did. She'd never have to sit at his court hearings or be able to tell the media that she always knew he was a killer."

"His last kill was his mother's best friend," He finally answered the question.

"He didn't want his mother to be even more disappointed in him, but he also didn't want his mother's best friend to find her like that and be upset. So the obvious answer to him was to kill her too."

"What the fuck?" He heard a couple of kids say under their breath.

"Yeah," he agreed with an almost chuckle. "This is what I mean by their answers are fascinating. It makes so much sense to them; clearly, if I kill my mother, her friend will be upset, so the best answer would be to put her out of her misery as well. He sees them as objects, like a matching set. One would lose value without the other."

Everyone was silent then. The students took in all the information they had just received, staring up at him with a look of disgust mixed with wonder.

"Any questions?"

Peggy raised her hand for a change; he pointed towards her in approval. "You missed the part where he specifically took the heads from the three women before his mother and brought them back home with him. He buried them in the yard outside her bedroom window, making sure they were always looking up to her."

Spencer was amazed that she knew the details. "Yes, I guess I did."

"I always found that part particularly interesting in this case," Peggy added. "Her opinion mattered so much to him. He knew how much she loved her co-ed's and how they looked up to her so much. They'd be exactly like her. He felt trapped in a town of women who were exactly like his nightmare, and his response was to make them physically look up to her for the rest of her life."

"Exactly." Spencer smiled. "understanding how he sees the situation and how the events played out in his mind is the key in figuring out who he is."

"If you were on the case in '72 when the first victims were discovered, how would you have handled it, Dr. Reid?" A male student in the back asked in the silence between answers, taking his shot before Peggy and Spencer went any further in their discussion.

“That's a hard thing to answer, connecting evidence back then was a lot harder than it is today, if it wasn’t for men like Ed there wouldn’t really be this many answers,” Spencer said honestly.

Another student put her hand up, “what’s the worst thing he did in your opinion?”

That racked his brain, there was a handful of horrific things he did that were particularly horrific, “probably his mother's entire murder.”

“What did he do?”

Before Spencer could answer he saw Peggy open her mouth and start explaining. “He not only cut off her head and fucked her neck, but he also took her vocal cords out and shoved them down the garbage disposal. And before he called the cops, he cleaned everything up and made her look presentable because he said his mother wouldn’t want guests to see the mess.”

The class all cringed, sinking into their seats with disgust. But that didn’t stop Peggy from explaining it all further.

“He used to go to a bar all the cops went to and he would talk about his case. They would always one-up themselves and say they were close which gave him this false idea that they were on his tail and they’d find his mother soon. But when they didn’t, he called it in from a payphone and said he’d come over and explain it all. And boy did he ever, the cops said he wouldn’t shut up. And then when they put him in the cop car finally, a woman walked past him and he threw up.”

Spencer watched her with awe, the way she could call information to memory like that was beautiful. He listened to her like he’s never heard a fact before, she was so intriguing.

“Thank you for the detail,” he teased her lightly. “Sometimes I get so caught up that the really gross parts get swept aside.”

The class smiled at him, he had gained their trust and attention within only 1 hour of class.

“I know you said you don’t have a favourite,” another student asked from the back. “I agree it’s weird, but who is the one you gravitate towards the most?”

“I’ve met hundreds of serial killers, I’ve read about thousands,” he explained. “I think Ed Kemper is the one I gravitate the most around because he was so willing and open to explaining why he is the way he is. Going as far as to say that the only way they could keep women safe is to give him a lobotomy. He didn’t believe there was any correcting to be done, only removal of the evil within him.”

He heard slight mumbles as everyone took in what he said. “Does anyone here have a killer or a case that interested them in learning more, or just introduced you to the chase of justice?”

Peggy put her hand up, “I personally think BTK is the scariest, most tactical, and just downright evil man to ever exist. He scares me to no end but he’s so interesting to learn about.”

“Ahh,” Spencer agreed. “Too bad you won't be here for week 3. But with that I think I’ll end the class, next week we’ll be discussing the difference between Ted Bundy and Richard Speck.” He nodded lightly, watching the majority of them close their books and had on out.

“I really enjoyed the class,” she said softly. Holding her purse in one hand, a collection of files in the other.

Spencer turned to look at her then, smiling right back. “It was a pleasure to teach alongside you.”

“What do you mean?” She teased, “it’s not like my mom and dad were the ones who did all the interviews."

“Carr,” he repeats her last name. The gears turning in his mind as he brings all the information forth.

“Your mother is Wendy Carr, she was recruited after the BTK case with Bill Tench, she’s who was behind that study you mentioned.”

“I know,” she smiled.

“Who’s your father?”

“Guess,” she looked at him with an unimpressed look on her face, pushing her glasses up slightly.

“You’re kidding? Gideon never said he had a daughter let alone a,” he stops himself before he can embarrass himself any further.

She smiled at the implication of his words, “but he’s told me all about you Dr. Reid, that’s why I'm here.”

“You need help with a case and I’m the only agent in Virginia currently,” he pressed his lips together awkwardly. Knowing it was too good to be true that she would have any interest in him in the slightest.

“No actually, I have a case I’ve been working on privately and I need some help. I asked my dad but he said you’d be able to help me the best. I agree,” she corrected him softly. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I was a big fan of yours. When I would sit in and watch his lectures, before he knew I was his kid, you would always step in at the best parts, adding the smallest details to the story that the average person would forget. It’s magnificent.”

He laughed slightly, tugging at his collar as she complimented him. “Thank you, you’re quite magnificent as well,” he replied with a blush and a smile

She didn’t look like Gideon, probably because she smiled so much. Like sunshine on legs, she beamed, all but blinding him with her smile as she stared at him, “do you want to get lunch and go over this case with me?”

“I’d love to.”

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