#probs zero seconds

[stcrforged]

" of course i can! " the goliath almost sounded offended by the other's words. " just watch me. " giant hands took out a set of lock picks from the bag. head then turned, dark eyes observing the lock. it was OBVIOUS that the lock picks were too small. he needed something bigger - like his hammer! with brutal force grog smashed the lock into a thousand tiny pieces of metal. " see, i'm an expert, no wait - THE expert. i bet i can pick any lock in the world. " he opened the door, bowing slightly to scanlan. " after you. "

continued from THIS / @heartheaded

[mermaidsirennikita]

Destiny's Surrender by Beverly Jenkins begins with the hero balls deep in the heroine, a sex worker he pays for sometime-exclusivity, which I can say definitively is an excellent development that I fully endorse

[ofthecaravel]

oh god im thinking about 'but you look so cool' oh no

[thatgirlwithasquid]

gosh getting a bit drunk has only made my wolverine pining worse. time to probably fall asleep while rewatching x-men i think :)

[mikurulucky]

A mushroom planet... with soil that looks like pants, giant mushrooms growing out of it, and a lone apartment complex that apparently Tochiro, Matsumoto-sensei, AND Nobotta live...

This is one goofy ass special lol.

[randum-famdoms]

Current number of fanfic tabs I have open on my phone is 153 I need an intervention

[6ebe]

2 prem teams through to the champions cup semi finals guys English rugby is so back 🤣🤣

[ssentimentals]

come and get your love {kim mingyu}

pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader

prompt: arranged marriage! AU, in which mingyu is a popular dj and fem!reader is a famous news reporter. it gets worse before it gets better.

warnings: none! it's not the usual sweet/fluffy stuff everyone is used from me though.

one.

mingyu stares at the window and wonders if he's ever heard of someone jumping out from the sixth floor. surely someone did, right? and they probably stayed alive, right?

'focus.' wonwoo hisses next to him, jamming his elbow hard to mingyu's right side.

mingyu blinks back to the present, looking at the contract in front of him. his sign looks almost foreign on it and to be honest the more he looks at it, the more this whole 'jumping out of the window on sixth floor' idea starts looking great. mingyu turns his head and his gaze lands on you. the only person here with who he's unfamiliar and isn't this ironic? how most unfamiliar person for him in this room is about to become the closest person to him in his life?

'thank you.' your voice is clear and you even muster a smile to the lawyer. a fake one, but still a smile. 'can we get going now?'

'where are hurrying, oh the love of my life?' mingyu asks, raising his voice to sound more dramatic. 'my legal wife, my petal-' wonwoo elbows him hard but mingyu keeps going. 'don't you want to get to know your husband more?'

mingyu waits with baiting breath for your reaction. it's a test from him, sort of. depending on how you'll react he is going to correct his behavior later on. your eyes bore into him with no emotion, nothing on your face betrays how you're feeling. staring at him for few seconds, you simply stand up and walk away, not gracing him with any kind of reply. wonwoo sighs like he's dying next to him but mingyu pays him no mind; he saw your eyes and despite how well you tried to hid it, he saw it - emotion. and he is going to see it again.

two.

'is that wall really that more interesting than me?' mingyu asks, turning towards you. 'it can't be.'

he watches as you slowly turn, facing him. it's been a week since he last saw you and now that you two are back together for fittings, he can't help it. mingyu is not sure what's wrong with him but something about you makes him itchy. he wants to poke you, annoy you, ask you questions, talk to you - anything to get your attention. and when he has it now in form of your raised eyebrow, he can't help but grin. 'so. anything you want to ask from me, my wife?'

your lips twitch and he spent too much time with wonwoo to be able to recognize when someone is trying to hide a smile - it's exactly what you're doing right now. he probs even further: 'i wonder if you're one of those sirens. do you think your voice will lure me in and that's why you're staying silent?'

you uncross your legs and his eyes zero on that motion, focusing a bit too hard on how pretty and long they are. how good they look in those black straight jeans. how nicely they'd look wrapped around-

'it is,' you say, voice not as cold as last time but still rather emotionless. 'the wall, i mean. it is more interesting than you.'

mingyu fakes a gasp, clutching at his chest in an horribly outstaged offence. 'i'll have you know, i'm plenty interesting.' there's a smirk in the corner of your lips and it's such a sexy look on you that mingyu gets thrown off for a second. 'c'mon, ask me something.'

you sigh like he's the biggest annoyance in your life but mingyu sees the way you're biting your inner cheek in order not to smile and he's winning. he's so, so winning. 'mingyu,' you start and he likes the way you say his name. 'are you very upset that there'll be no more parties on ibiza with some hot models for you? now, that you have a wife?'

mingyu blinks. icy chills run down his spine and it's a struggle to keep his expression neutral. 'keeping tabs on me, wifey?' he asks, going for lighthearted but he's too tense to make it look natural.

you roll your eyes, huffing. 'no need to, you're doing a great job by being on every single news portal yourself.'

and it's true, that's the thing. mingyu is a popular dj, of course he's where the party is and yes, in the nice company of pretty people most of the time. but the way you said it - like he's some dirt on your shoes, like you think his whole life is only this, like you know him already when you don't know a damn thing about him - makes him angry. livid, even. he should say something back, something equally bad, but then designer walks in and you two are picture perfect couple again. mingyu kind of hates it. he also hates how he can't even hide the awe in his eyes when you walk out in a white dress, looking stunning.

three.

thunder rolls in with all its might, showing exactly why all flights are cancelled. mingyu watches how mother nature reminds everyone who's actually in charge here, while you're busy stressing out at the background. he turns, focusing on the way you zip and then unzip your bag, grabbing laptop from it with a big sigh. before he can even think it through, question is out of his mouth: 'how can i help you?'

you freeze. you look shocked when you turn to him and he doesn't blame you - it's weird to ask that when both of you are not speaking terms exactly. 'what?' you ask, stuttering a bit. it's kinda cute. 'you want to help me?' mingyu nods. 'why?'

god, you really never want to make anything easy for him, do you? 'because maybe i'm not an asshole you think i am?' mingyu tries but you don't budge. 'fuck, okay. is this how our marriage-'

'fake marriage,' you but in.

'fake marriage is going to be?' mingyu asks. 'we will not talk to each other and you will react like i'm trying to poison you every time i bring you tea? aren't you tired of this?' mingyu moves closer to you. in this huge hotel room you look so small, especially when you wrap arms around yourself like you're doing now. 'our flight got cancelled, but you're stressing out here like our wedding did. i asked a simple question and you're acting like-' he throws his hands in the air, loss of words. you stare back at him, guarded and he suddenly wants to give up. 'actually, nevermind. i'm going to take next room, text me if there'll be any updates about flights.'

mingyu is.. emotionally drained. whenever he tried to take steps towards you all he was met with was a concrete wall. he knows your first meeting could've gone better but the way you're shutting him down is brutal. he grabs his bag and moves to another room, when you softly call out his name. and maybe he shouldn't give in so easily, but it's you and he's ready for anything to get you to talk to him.

'i'm sorry,' you mumble quietly, looking up and meeting his gaze. 'i just- flight is cancelled and we will be late for all our appereances tomorrow and people will be angry-'

'they all will wait,' mingyu interrupts. is this what got you so stressed? you thinking that some people will be angry at you? mingyu instantly despises this idea, you thinking that some people have this power over you. 'they will wait however the fuck they need to wait for us, okay?' a suspicion creeps in his mind. 'did someone say something to you?' the way your eyes widen is an answer enough. 'who?' mingyu asks, raising his voice a little. 'tell me who.'

his voice and tone is firm enough for you to just give him your phone with a message thread with one of the directors of tv channel open. mingyu reads through the messages and grits his teeth so hard, his jaw clicks. 'let me talk to him,' he looks back at you, pleading for you to give permission. 'please. no one should ever talk to you in this way. let me talk to him and i will remind him his place.'

mingyu probably looks very scary right now, but he doesn't care; how dare someone speak to you like that? how dare someone make you this stressed? you nod and mingyu quickly goes to get his phone, typing number of that director. he walks out to call him without noticing sincere small smile playing on your face.

four.

it goes better after that. you two are talking and it's a big win for mingyu. one week full of tv appereances and interview recordings flies in a blink of an eye with your company, especially when you open up to him more and more. mingyu thinks marrying someone who is this smart and funny is not the worst thing in the world.

five.

two weeks till the wedding and mingyu takes you out on your first real date. or well, you don't know yet that this is a date but he's about to drop that bomb soon. the restaraunt is nicely lit, food is delicious and the way candle lights dance on a naked skin of your shoulders in this dress makes him a bit dizzy.

'is this a date?' you ask, looking up at him when waiter brings dessert.

mingyu likes having your eyes on him. he always wanted your attention and now that he has it, he never wants to lose it. he reaches out for your hand, smiling when you let him interlace your fingers together. 'yes, for me. i'd love it if you'll treat it as one, too.'

your eyes are mesmerizing. how mingyu is supposed to concentrate on anything else when you're looking at him like that? your thumb gently caresses his skin. 'it's a date for me too.'

six.

it's all very new. mingyu is not in a rush but he really doesn't want the first time he kisses you to be the wedding so yeah, maybe he is in a rush. it's not like you're complaining though.

'easy there, cowboy,' you giggle, when he pushes you against the door of his bentley. 'what's got you so worked up?'

'you in this dress,' mingyu mutters, leaving small kisses on your neck. 'you dancing to my dj sets. you being next to me. you, just you.' mingyu stops right in front of your lips, practically vibrating with need to learn your taste. 'let me. fuck, please let me, i-'

you kiss him first. and it's everything he thought it'd be and then some more. mingyu kisses back, devours you whole against that car and leaves a stinging bite on your lower lip when he finally pulls back. he brings your foreheads together, breathing heavily. 'we could've been doing this from the start if you didn't act like you had a stick up your ass.'

'fucker,' you mutter, slapping his bicep but with no real heat behind it. 'get off me.' you push him gently and when mingyu steps away, you smile. three days till the wedding and mingyu already is not sure how he's going to survive them without your kisses. 'thanks for the night, mingyu. you were amazing up there.'

mingyu preens, something warm fills his body at your praise of his skills. he knows he's a damn good dj but hearing this from you means so much more. 'i'll see you tomorrow?' he asks, smiling.

you burst out laughing. 'yes, mingyu, i'm not going to skip my own wedding.'

mingyu grins, not wanting to admit how relieved he is to hear this. 'just checking.'

seven.

true to your word, you don't skip the wedding. you are there, looking like an angel in the white dress, making mingyu's heart want to jump out of his ribcage. you kiss sweetly by the applause from everyone and mingyu holds you tight during your first dance.

'forever with me, aren't you excited?' mingyu asks, gently swaying you.

'two years by the contract don't sound like forever,' you say, grinning. 'getting a bit ahead of yourself, mister.'

'what can i say, i'm very confident.' mingyu spins you once, twice and then pushes you back into his arms, right where you belong. 'your heart eyes are giving you away, by the way.'

your laugh is quickly becoming his favorite sound. he smiles too at your giggles. 'you're not exactly being subtle either,' you say playfully. 'happy that you got me in the end, mingyu?'

mingyu leans in, capturing your smile in a sweet kiss. cameras are going crazy and people around are clapping, thinking that it's all fake but it's the single most real thing in his life. 'you have no idea how.'

a/n: this was a request from anon like month ago and i got around it only now, i'm sorry :( hopefully whoever requested this is happy with how it turned out, cause i kinda like it <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[no1ryomafan]

Update: I FINALLY got my copy shipped out a bit after I’ve gotten zxa. Won’t come until next week but I’m happy the seller actually responded to me.

Love how my broke ass decided to treat myself after my birthday by getting cheap Ds games and two of them are the ZX duology cause even though I have them on consoles I still wanna play it on its original hardware especially cause I’ve played the game enough on the LC to where I can beat it without save assist but then getting ZX1 proves to be the most tedious fucking thing ever cause APPARENTLY people just really wanted to buy this game on Ds rn for some reason???

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part five

I've officially gone back to work full time, so I might be a bit slower with writing, but hopefully not too much! I'm really excited keep posting this little story with all its twists and turns 🤭🤭 (That being said, the end of this one will prob make zero sense but TRUST ME, it will make sense later on)

Warnings: more of the case, more arguing, depictions of a panic attack, more vagueness about Reader's backstory 👀

Hotch watches you through the two-way glass as you speak to Richard Monroe once again. Rossi stands at his side, watching him watch you.

“She’s doing good,” Rossi comments. “Considering she just started.”

“She’s hiding something,” Hotch says quietly.

“Aren’t we all?” Rossi tries to make light of the moment, though it clearly doesn’t work. “What’s got you spooked?”

Hotch shakes his head slowly. “He recognized her somehow.”

“You’re sure he’s not toying with her?” Rossi asks. “He’s obviously attracted to her. He’s been flirting with her since she stepped in there.”

Hotch can’t explain why but that makes anger burn inside his chest even hotter.

“Relax,” Rossi says. 

“I am relaxed,” Hotch says too quickly, too defensively.

Rossi stares at him. “You’re on edge because she’s here again, and she’s on edge because you’re making her on edge.” He points between the two of you to emphasize his point.

Hotch isn’t ready to back down so easily, but he does ease slightly. 

He is on edge because you’re here again. He was on edge during that case all those years ago for a reason he couldn’t place — he still can’t place it. Not to mention, you seemed determined to push any and every button of his that you could find. And then some. He lost it, you lost it; it was a disaster. He was as happy to leave as you were to see him go. It’s barely been forty-eight hours since you’ve been back and it’s obvious the same pattern is repeating. Only this time, you’re both stuck with one another. For the indefinite future.

Because, at the end of the day, you’re good at your job, and Hotch is glad you’re here because you’re so good at what you do.

Hotch casts his eyes back to Richard. Is he flirting with you? Hotch can’t exactly tell, yet Rossi says he is. Or did Rossi only say it to get a rise out of Hotch? Not unlikely, knowing David. But it doesn’t make it sit any more right with Hotch.

But you’re getting somewhere with him. That’s important; that’s worth focusing on.

Richard admits that there is one person in particular who had it out for him more than the others. The problem is, that person is in prison. Or he’s supposed to be. Because Richard had him framed.

“Already on it,” Rossi says, putting his phone to his ear. He rattles the name off for Garcia and she goes to work.

Inside the room, you’ve leaned over on the table, your chin in your palm. Clearly sympathetic, trying to get more out of Richard.

Hotch sees it now, the way Richard is looking at you. And he doesn’t like it. He straightens, uncrossing his arms, ready to haul you out of there any second. 

+++

You’re getting good information out of him. You haven’t shown him the phone yet, but you will. You wanted him to warm up again first, and he has. You hope Hotch is eating his foot right now from how much he doubted you. And you hope Rossi is laughing at him.

You almost laugh yourself, but you stop, and just in time too, for Richard to throw another curveball your way.

“I think I know what it is,” he says after a moment of looking you up and down — which he won’t stop doing. “You’re all grown up.”

You’re not sure what he’s getting at. “What?”

“Why I didn’t realize it at first,” he continues. “You’re different from the pictures. Older.” He narrows his eyes. “But it’s definitely you.”

“We’re not talking about me,” you redirect him. “We’re talking about Lila.”

“We could talk about you,” he ignores your bait. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Where would he take Lila?” you plow through. “Think about your daughter, Richard. If he has her, where would he take her?”

“He probably just wanted me to turn myself in, the bastard,” Richard says. “Give him a few hours. He’ll let her go.”

“Will he?” you ask. He doesn’t seem at all upset that someone has his daughter. “What about what he’ll do to her? What he’s probably already done?”

He shrugs, then a sinister smirk crawls onto his face. “You were let go without a scratch, weren’t you?”

You can’t hide your reaction. It’s impossible to, when that— that is the last thing you expected him to know.

Before you can react — or realize the laughter you hear is coming from Richard — Hotch is throwing the door open and ordering you out.

“Out, Y/N. Now,” he repeats, glaring at Richard. Not you. Surprisingly.

You stand and leave, your feet working on their own. You pause just outside the room, pulse racing in your ears. The door shuts and Hotch is at your side, looking at you weirdly -- or is that sympathy in his eyes? You don’t know. And you can’t hear a damn thing, but you see Hotch’s mouth moving.

“Y/N,” he says. “I said are you okay?”

“Fine, don’t touch me,” you swat his hand away, not that it was anywhere near your arm. He’s just standing too close and looking at you differently and it’s setting you off all over again. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t try to stop you or lecture you, both of which are a feat for him. He should be proud of himself.

The jab is weak, even in your head. You’re too disoriented to even try something harsher.

You’re out the front doors of the precinct before you can blink, and pacing the sidewalk before you can breathe. 

You still can’t breathe, actually. You can’t at all. That’s a problem.

You lean against one of the BAU cars and try to inhale, but it’s like your lungs refuse to expand. They’re shrinking with every passing second and—

You’re sitting on the ground and someone is hovering over you— No, they’re kneeling. They’re saying your name, saying breathe, and you’re trying, but—

“Look at me, you need to breathe, come on,” Hotch takes your hand and presses it between both of his, trying to ground you. “With me, okay?” He takes in a deep breath and you nod, mirroring him, or trying to. You swear you’re trying.

It takes some time, but eventually your breathing evens out again. Reality comes crashing back to you — and Hotch too, apparently, because you both split apart from one another like you’re burning.

“Thanks,” you say, taking in another deep breath.

“You’re welcome,” Hotch replies. He doesn’t sound at all angry, but he won’t stop looking at you.

“No.”

“No?” he asks.

“No,” you repeat. “I’m not talking about it right now.”

“I wasn’t going to ask.”

You scoff. “Sure.”

He pauses. “We will have to talk about it.”

“For god’s sake,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead with a shaking hand. “Not now. And not until we’re back in Quantico. Okay?”

Surprising you, he nods. “Okay.” He waits another beat, still studying you. “Take your time. Come back in when you’re ready.”

You blink after him as he walks away, wondering if that really was Hotch that you just talked to. And not some nicer alien who replaced him.

+++

When you walk back into the precinct, the entire team tries — and promptly fails — to not give you pitying looks.

“I’m fine,” you bite out when Morgan opens his mouth.

He snaps it closed. “Cool. I was gonna ask if you wanted some coffee.”

No he wasn’t. But you let it slide. “Sure. Thank you.”

You settle down in the conference room next to Reid and JJ. Apparently Emily is trying to talk to Richard now with Hotch and Rossi watching, but you’re not sure how far she’ll get, if anything. He seems done being cooperative now. He got what he wanted. Which, for some reason, was to rattle you to your core.

You’re still just not sure how he even knows any of that. The world of serial killers can’t seriously be that small, can it? There’s no way he could’ve known your father and the man who kidnapped you when you were a kid. 

And how the fuck are you going to explain any of this to Hotch? He’s not going to let it go; you know he won’t. He will corner you the second you’re back in Quantico and demand answers. Even if you tell him to leave it alone, you know he’ll try to find out in other ways. Because he’s a stubborn jackass like that.

“Here,” Morgan says, handing over a steaming cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” you take it and offer a smile in return. He squeezes your shoulder as you take a sip.

It might be police precinct coffee, but it’s good enough, and it helps. That’s about all you can ask for at this point.

The four of you go over what you know so far once again. Garcia calls with no new leads from the most recent rabbit hole Hotch sent her down, and a promise to keep digging. 

“Thanks, Garcia,” you sigh, putting your head down on the table as the call disconnects. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Morgan sighs with you. “I mean it’s been well over the window for—”

“Don’t,” you whisper, but loud enough that he stops. “Don’t say it, please.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Morgan whispers back, resting a hand on your back.

You lift your head. “We’ll get her back.”

JJ and Reid share the same sad look. You hate it. You hate this.

You were gone for two days when you were a kid. You were found on the morning of the third day. There’s still time. Just because it’s been over twenty-four hours doesn’t mean she’s—

Hotch enters the conference room looking just as disturbed as he was when you left the interrogation room earlier. Rossi and Emily trail behind, both watching you closely.

“Morgan and Reid, I want you to go speak with Mrs. Monroe again. Reid, take a close look at Lila’s room, see if there’s anything at all that we’ve missed. Actually, JJ, go with them. Talk with Mrs. Monroe. Update her on everything.”

The three of them nod and begin gathering their things to head out.

“Prentiss, I want you and Rossi to go back to the area where Lila’s phone was found. Canvas the area, keep open eyes. A few officers are already there to help.”

That leaves you. With Hotch.

“Call me with whatever you find,” Hotch tells them. “No piece of information is too small or insignificant right now.”

“Roger that,” Prentiss nods.

One by one, the team files out of the room, and the door shuts behind them. You swallow thickly.

The conference room suddenly feels far too small.

Hotch pulls out one of the chairs next to you, sitting down. He leans his elbows onto the table, not looking at you. Earlier, he wouldn’t stop looking at you, and now he won’t even meet your eyes. You’re five seconds away from tossing this lukewarm coffee in his face.

“Richard mentioned—”

Make that two seconds. “Hotch,” you interrupt him immediately. “I said I’m not talking about this right now.”

“Richard mentioned,” he starts again, ignoring you, “something earlier that startled you.”

You scoff, pushing back from the table. You need to pace. You can’t sit if he’s going to start hounding you for answers now. Right now, of all times.

“We have a missing kid,” you gesture wildly. “In case you forgot.”

Hotch leans back. “We do. And her father seems to know more about your past than I do.”

“Well, you and I aren’t exactly friends.”

“Are you and Richard Monroe friends?”

“What? No!”

“Is he a family friend?”

You freeze. He’s getting too close to the truth already. “What the hell are you getting at?”

Hotch stands slowly, and you take a step back even though he hasn’t moved toward you at all. He notices the action and tilts his head ever so slightly. Fuck. You’re not going to make it out of this. Not when he reads you like a damn book. 

“When he said you were let go without a scratch,” Hotch presses. “What did he mean?”

You shake your head. “Nothing. He meant nothing by it.”

“Really?” Hotch continues. “If it was nothing, you wouldn’t be trying to flee this room.”

You blink and realize you’re much closer to the door than you thought, your hand reaching behind you for the door knob. You stop, dropping your hand.

“He mentioned your father,” Hotch says evenly. “But wouldn’t give us a name. Why?”

“Ask him,” you growl. “Ask him these questions since he knows me so well.”

“I’m asking you.”

“What?” you yell. “What the hell do you want from me, Hotch?” There are tears pricking your eyes and you hate it. You hate him. “Now is not the time to go digging through my past just because you have it out for me. I get it, okay? I get that I am the last person on this planet that you wanted to join your team. Believe me, you are the last person I wanted to be working under. But these are the cards we were dealt, alright? So I’d appreciate it if you’d just for once in your sorry, stubborn little life show me some goddamn mercy and leave this alone.”

A tear has escaped that you wipe away quickly, pissed that you let it fall in the first place.

Whatever expression he wears, you can’t read it. “If you’re connected to this case, I need to know. If there’s anything—”

“I would’ve fucking told you already,” you hiss, ready to punch him square on the nose. “I told you to drop it. I can’t do this right now.”

His phone rings, saving him from attempting to say anything else that you might want to deck him for. Thankfully, Hotch answers it. 

“Hotchner. Hey Rossi,” he watches you as he talks. And he freezes. “What? Where? How?”

“What happened?” You surge forward, trying to get closer to listen to the call.

Hotch pulls his phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker. Rossi’s voice rushes through.

“An ambulance is taking her to the hospital, but she seems alright,” Rossi says. “We’re going with her.”

“Good, don’t let her leave your sight,” Hotch says. “Are the police canvassing the area?”

“Doing everything they can to look for him.”

“Good. We’re coming to join them.”

You look at Hotch wildly, not exactly excited for sitting in a car with him for hours searching the area for who kidnapped Lila. Not to mention, you seem to be the only one who knows damn well that whoever it was is long gone by now. There’s no way he’s sticking around, or that he’d be dumb enough to turn himself in like Richard.

“We’re not gonna find him,” you mutter.

Both Hotch and Rossi stop talking. “What?” Hotch asks.

“We’re not going to find him,” you repeat. “He’s long gone.”

Both men are quiet. You and Hotch stare at each other. He knows it, too. He knows it’s the truth.

But still, you canvas the area. You sit in the passenger seat as Hotch drives, less reckless than usual. You know it’s no use. You also understand the feeling of guilt that would’ve come if you didn’t at least try.

+++

Lila is sitting up in the hospital bed looking perfectly healthy and intact when you arrive with Hotch. Mrs. Monroe wraps you in a tight hug the second she sees you.

“Thank you,” she says. “For bringing my baby back to me.”

You politely thank her, telling her the entire team helped. You offer a smile to Lila who returns it with a little nod.

You ask some questions, but truthfully, Lila is okay. Shaken up, but she says nothing bad happened. You’re not sure if she’s blocking it out and will one day remember, but all that seems to matter is that she’s back with her mom, and the two appear to be on better terms. 

Unsurprisingly, the man who had Lila didn’t tell her his name. He let her see his face, though, which is odd. Bold of him. Hotch makes sure the police know to get a sketch artist to see Lila for a full picture. 

Hotch asks as pointed behavior questions as he can, but again, Lila says it was fine. He was irritated, grumpy. Seemed to be waiting on something, but didn’t say what. She was in a house not far from here, in the basement. The police have already swarmed it, but it’s empty, of course. They’re collecting evidence, but Hotch isn’t sure what they’ll find, if anything.

Richard Monroe will keep his deal of life in prison, not the death penalty, if he continues to cooperate. The police seem to hope that with the sketch and Lila’s descriptions, Richard might recognize the guy. Or maybe his face will pop up in the FBI’s database, and Richard can answer questions about him. Until any of that happens, though, Richard remains in custody. And still wants to see his daughter.

You’re not sure if Mrs. Monroe will allow it. Your mom didn’t. 

You still don’t know if you wish she would’ve or not. Some days you’re glad she didn’t. Others, like today, you wish she had. There are so many questions you don’t have answers to. So many that you know you’ll never get them all.

[the-blind-bard]

Parasite Shigaraki x Reader

| Part 2 | Part 3 (Soon) | Masterlist |

Synopsis: [Strangers/Lovers, Smut, Loser!Obsessive! Shigaraki] - |Shigaraki x Reader| Your family called your quirk "parasite", able to feed off of someone's quirk and make it temporarily your own. Luckily, the only other person on the subway happens to have the most powerful quirk you've ever seen and zero experience with women.

Content: MDNI, eventual smut, reader has a quirk, submissive Shigaraki, fem reader, prob other stuff but that's all i can think of

Your eyes burned.

Tired and weighty, your eyes were exhausted from your shift at work. You winced when stepping onto the familiar public transport system with its flickering, yellow light and stench of stale cigarettes and musk. 

Working as late as you do, there are usually only ever two or four others riding the subway with you. 

Most were either just as tired as you, working late and reveling in the joys of selling your health for capital gain, or they were harder-fallen victims of the fucked system just trying to grab a sheltered sleep. 

People abandoned. Deemed worthless rubble of society with quirks that weren’t suited for practicality or glamour. Just aimlessly riding round and round and round-

There was only one other passenger tonight.

This guy was slouched over, posture shitty and seemingly contributing to the slightly musky scent of the subway. 

You guessed that by a couple of odd-end stains on his ratty, black hoodie that shielded his face from view, aside from some loose, blue hairs.

Your decision on where to sit was made instinctively. 

The closer, the better.

For the sake of your quirk.

Your family had always called your quirk “parasite”. 

You embraced the title, albeit with a touch of bitter sarcasm. 

But they were right. 

You were born a parasite. 

Your quirk fed off of the born abilities of others.

Allowing you, with just a touch, to take someone’s quirk from them. You ripped away the abilities that they had known their entire lives and rendered them quirkless until you disengaged physical contact. 

The drawbacks? Aside from having to be close enough to touch them, your quirk also wouldn’t let you use someone’s quirk against them. Anything else was fair game. 

It was a bit cruel. 

Such a useful quirk, but only as useful as the people around you. 

You knew what it felt like to be quirkless, since that’s how most of your time was spent. You didn’t even usually bother telling people you had a quirk, sick of inflating other’s god complex by making them think you’d depend on them. 

It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t something you just gave away. That’s why you always silently smirked when people gave you odd looks at night for sitting directly next to them on the subway. 

It was safer for you to be able to grab them quickly and rip their own abilities from their bodies rather than you be sitting on the other side of the subway and finding out how dangerous they are.

You sat down right next to the blue-haired guy, rubbing some of the weariness off of your face and shooting him a polite smile. 

Your quirk made you bold in your adult years. Whenever you realized how dependent people were on their quirks alone, you felt secure in your abilities to throw off any danger coming your way by rendering them useless.

The guy’s body had frozen entirely when you sat next to him, thumbs halting on the mobile game he was playing seconds ago. 

You’d never seen someone hold a phone quite like that.

You watched, interested, as his hands flexed around the device, outstretched pinkies twitching in what was likely annoyance that you sat next to him with every other seat being open. 

You glanced down at his phone screen. You didn’t mean to, but your eyes were drawn there by the way his pinkies oddly hovered, catching your attention. 

Your eyes gleamed with a small burst of energy, as your guard was let slightly down. 

Any guy sitting on the subway playing Minecraft mobile in the dead of night surely couldn’t be that bad. 

You felt obligated to do something about his reaction, feeling kinda bad for disturbing him. Then again, it was kinda cute how jumpy he was. Seems like people don’t elect to sit next to him often.

Maybe it was the way he was so spooked by the mere action of you sitting next to him or maybe you would later blame it on you seeing the comforting, colorful blocks of that nostalgic game, but you tried to think of a way to comfort the man when you realized he was still frozen like a flighty, feral cat. 

“It’s more useful to trap the animals and start a farm.” You noticed his little character was facing only two sheep, holding a little block of TNT. “Then you’ll have a whole herd of sheep to blow up instead of just two. Taking out two sheep? Doesn’t do much. Take out a herd? They’ll remember that.”

You chuckled lightly, just trying to be pseudo-philosophical about Minecraft sheep while also slipping in some of your signature bitter pessimism.

Little did you know, those words would replay in his mind for years to come. Those words would consume him on silent nights, driving him to plot and destroy. Destroy the herd. Destroy the sheep. Make them remem-

“Whatever.” He put his phone away with a scoff, irritated that his game was interrupted. 

He looked up, giving you a full view of his face. Something about him was endearing to you, even if the scratch marks around his neck looked painful. 

Without his game, he just sat there, peripheral view gliding over to you.

He momentarily thought about dusting you for being so fucking annoying, but he couldn’t ignore the stuttering of his pulse or the sweat that collected on his palms when the smell of your perfume slightly covered up the dingy state of the subway. 

His throat felt impossibly tight and his neck itched uncomfortably. Were you making fun of him? Fucking bitch. You think you can just sit next to him as a joke, smelling nice and smiling so prettily at him? 

Girls never sat by Tomura Shigaraki.

You shrugged your shoulders at his silence, indifferent to him shutting down your Minecraft philosophy. What a shame, you would have loved to watch him play for a while to take your mind off of the subway ride. 

You reached in your bag and took out a book you had picked up recently. It was some pompous piece of classic literature that you didn’t really care for but liked to be informed about. 

After all, how can you tell your coworker how fucking dumb and up-his-own-ass he is unless you read what he’s talking about? 

Yeah, this was a spite read. 

You sat there reading for only about ten minutes or so, ignoring the red eyes that were trying to pretend like they weren’t watching you intently. 

Sure, he was kinda weird, but, honestly, you thought that maybe he was worried you were the creep. 

Yeah, you probably would keep an eye on him too if he sat next to you on an empty subway and started on a rant about society in relation to video game sheep…

You would reflect on your horribly embarrassing actions later and remember to leave poor, anxious boys alone when they’re trying to game in peace on the subway. 

The subway lurched particularly hard as it came to a stop. 

You had tried to catch it, but a quiet gasp came from your lips as your body jerked and the book flew from your hands that were gripped too loosely around it. 

He wasn’t thinking. 

He was a fucking idiot.

You might- in his mind- be making fun of him and you might just be some side-quest bitch annoying him on his way back to the hideout, but at this moment, Shigaraki was thinking about how good you smelled and how soft your fingers looked against the pages of that stupid book.

 He thought he was so slick, staring at the way your hands ran over the page, him wondering what would it be like if a girl ran her hands over him like that. What would a girl feel like? What would you feel like?

He hoped you didn’t notice that he leaned in slightly to smell you better. He decided he liked your perfume. A lot.

He was growing tense with the excitement of being so close to a pretty girl that apparently liked video games and also apparently seemed to be somewhat of a pessimistic asshole like him. 

One that chose to sit next to him and talk to him. 

He felt like a dating sim where a new character just unexpectedly got unlocked, introducing the MC’s love interest. This had to be a part of the main plot for him.

So, like an awkward, horny idiot, he reached out to stop her book from hitting the rank subway floor. He thought she was going to smile brightly and talk to him again, thanking him and blushing. 

Instead, his eyes were wide as he remembered who he is- 

what he is.

He’s a fucking monster, not some handsome dating sim MC. 

Your book was ash, falling through his fingers. 

You weren’t tired anymore.

Your lips parted in surprise which enraged Shigaraki as he assumed it to be fear. 

Shigaraki’s expression looked indifferent, but you could kinda detect the shameful flush of red creeping up his neck before he brought up a hand to incessantly scratch the skin. 

You gave him the courtesy of looking away as blood collected under his nails. Was that a drawback of his quirk or was he just that embarrassed? 

Regardless, what a spectacular quirk. Your brain felt like it was suddenly submerged in ice water, a cool clarity of all the things you could do with someone like this by your side. 

The access to power you’d have.

Alone, you’re no one. With him, you could both have everything.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, about to acknowledge how you know it was just an accident and how he meant to do something good, but right as those words went to leave your lips, a group of three obnoxious men boarded the subway.

They were all laughter and stumbles, not caring who heard their obnoxious banter. 

Your eyes left the boy next to you and went straight to one of the men. Particularly, to the one that just whistled at you. 

They all muttered amongst themselves, glassy eyes searching your face and figure, picking apart your appearance’s worth to their disgusting desires. 

It would be so easy. 

If you always had someone like the anxious boy with his beautiful quirk next to you, it could all be so easy.

“Hey babe,” the tallest one of the bunch said as he was carried on by his friend’s laughter, “why don’t you come sit over here and let us give you the subway ride of your life? Might not wanna get off though.” 

His friends cackled, a loud and disgusting sound. 

Your brows pinched in irritation, but you smiled. Something empty. Not like the sweet and earnest ones you had given minutes ago to the itching boy next to you.

“Don’t know, your friends seem to be riding your cock hard enough as it is.”

The boy next to you loosened his stiff shoulders for the first time since you got on the subway, lightly exhaling a breath and restraining laughter. 

Your smirk grew, grateful you also had an audience to urge you on. Glad he seemed responsive to what you said.

However, the guys across from you didn’t find it as funny, standing over and pointing a finger towards you. 

“You bitch, I’ll kick your fucking jaw off. Stupid slut.”

You watched as the man approached. Was he alluding to a kicking quirk? 

No matter if you were right or not, you didn’t want to find out. He had pure hatred in his eyes at you embarrassing him publicly, and he came right at you to do something about it.

You didn’t see the blue-haired boy’s hand get ready to reach out towards the man. Instead, you felt his startled shock and felt him try to jerk away from your grasp as you grabbed his hand.

You’d have to apologize to Minecraft boy later.

You felt it as soon as your soft skin made contact with his rough, cracked hands. 

Power.

It was like a drug had hit your system all at once, rushing to your fingers and making them unmatchable weapons of destruction. 

You reached out and touched the fucker standing across from you, watching as he decayed.

It was breathtaking. One minute solid, the next…reduced to dust.

Silence. The only sound was the rumbling of the subway as it neared the next stop.

The other two men looked at where their friend had been in fear. It was like the world stood still for just a second.

But not for long as the men started clambering to the exit in anticipation of the next stop where they practically flung themselves out of the subway. 

Next to you, the boy physically shook. 

Fuck. You were hoping you hadn’t fucked up too badly. This couldn’t be the last time you see him. The last time you get to use that quirk.

You gave him a sad smile, hand rising to his cheek, lightly caressing it. You felt a pang in your heart as he leaned further into it, his breath hitching in his throat.

You spoke gently to him. 

“Hey now, it’s okay…I’m sorry I didn’t ask before I did that. I didn’t think I really had the time to explain. I’m (Y/n) by the way.” 

You tried to comfort him, hoping he wouldn’t bolt out the door. You really didn’t give a fuck about killing some random dickhead, but this sweet boy seemed so shaken up, you needed to calm him down. You needed to make sure you didn’t scare him off.

You needed to feel the power of his quirk again.

In his seat, Tomura shook but it wasn’t the nerves you suspected. He was nervous for far more carnal reasons. 

No, his breath was coming out in labored pants, him practically vibrating at the lingering ghosts of your touch. 

Not only had you touched his hands and not decayed before his eyes, but then you dared to kill that man in front of everyone without flinching.

It’s like you were his personal fallen angel.

And the hand that had lightly held his cheek with it’s soothing and stern hold? He was instantly addicted to this new feeling, wanting your hands to never leave his skin again. 

His face was flush and his pants shouldn’t feel as tight as they did. He felt like he was suffocating under a fire. Fuck, he might even cum in his pants if you got any closer.

He thought you were fucking perfect. A custom character made just for his two-player mode. 

“Shigaraki Tomura.”

You smiled, glad to see he was still willing to talk to you.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shigaraki.”

Red eyes stared into yours, wide and filled with ravenous wonder.

“Who are you?”

You laughed, “(L/N) (Y/N)-”

Shigaraki shook his head, hands clumsily reaching out for yours, shaking like his life depended on holding your hand in his own again.

His grip on you was impossibly tight, stinging your own skin as his nails dug into the living flesh. His hold was harsh and unfamiliar.

He wasn’t used to using his hands without the intention to destroy. 

“No. Who the fuck are you? Why doesn’t this do anything to you?”

You shook out of his grip, entwining your fingers between his. 

You ran your thumb over his hand while both of yours were locked, you enjoying the simmering power under your fingertips. 

“Oh trust me,” you leaned in closer to him to whisper into his ear, enjoying how you can hear every labored breath of his from being so close. You could even feel the tremble of his body. “It does something to me.”

A little noise bubbled up from his throat and his face flushed with the prettiest red you had seen aside from his own eyes.

You let go of his hands only for him to involuntarily whine and squirm at the feeling of you reaching into his pocket. 

Grabbing his phone, you couldn’t help but be fond of how sweet Tomura seemed. With just a touch of your hand, he melted, and with just a touch of his, you destroyed.

 It felt almost fated.

“Unlock it.”

Usually, Tomura wouldn’t hesitate to bite back if someone dared to give orders to him like that, but he didn’t feel like himself. No, this was different from when Dabi was being an asshole or some pro-hero fuck tried to tell him what to do.

This made his stomach churn in the most wonderful way. 

He wanted you. He could be good for you. Only for you.

You gave the phone to him, his pinky already stretched outwards by reflex. It was a little sad to you how careful he had to be. 

“My number’s in your phone. Text me. I’ll tell you all about my quirk next time.”

Your number? This couldn’t be real. He was sure he was bound to wake up to an embarrassing mess of sticky sheets any minute now. 

“Sure.” 

You smile at him and grab your bag, preparing to get off at your stop. 

God, you hoped he would text you. You weren’t looking forward to having to investigate all the possible stops on this route to find him if he didn’t message you.

You would find him.

Neither of you were aware of the other’s intention, but you wanted to absolutely ruin him by making him yours in every possible meaning of the word.

Meanwhile, he considered you to already be his.

But you knew one thing for sure, Tomura Shigaraki has not seen the last of you. 

Pt 2

[yoursweetwife]

hmmm what about how ratio and ruan mei would act if they were jealous? a bit of a cliche, ratio being him he would probs shout algebraic equations at the guy making a move, but for ruan mei im not sure..

I have a couple of thoughts about these two.

Veritas Ratio considers jealousy to be something unimaginable and primitive, because intelligent and erudite people should not succumb to such base emotions, besides, he is aware of his attractiveness, you need to be a real fool to leave him (he began to change his mind when he fell in love and entered into a REAL relationship) Ratio will immediately understand that he is jealous, but he will stubbornly deny it, saying to himself something like "jealousy is the lot of fools," but he will still continue to look contemptuously at the cause of his indignation.

However, the Veritas is a double-edged sword, everything can end either well or badly (mainly for the one who is bothering you). At best, everything will be limited to just glances that will be hidden behind a plaster head, and rare remarks in the direction of the "opponent". Fortunately, as soon as you start scolding him, he immediately shuts up.

And in the worst case, if a person does not follow words and actions at all, openly showing interest in you, then even the eons themselves will not.

Ratio will lower the interlocutor's self-esteem below zero, regardless of whether there are other people nearby. Because how dare that idiot touch you! And you act like you don't care, even though he sees your annoyance. Once Veritas almost hit someone with a book out of jealousy, he just wasn't used to such feelings.

After that, he can't get rid of the feeling that he became part of this bunch of idiots, fortunately, you were there to calm him down and show him that it's okay to feel like that.

!In no case do not intentionally try to make him jealous, he will definitely not forgive this!

Ruan Mei gives the impression of a person who has only one partner for life, that is, if she falls in love, then she will never look at another, so you will never have a reason to be jealous of her. However, the hermit lifestyle led to Ruan Mei never feeling jealous.

Despite her detachment from people, she can see when people are flirting with you and when they're just being nice. If she doesn't worry about the second, then the first sometimes makes her feel awkward and angry, especially if it happens when you spend time together (few people know that you are dating, because May values privacy).

Her reaction most of the time will be silence, waiting for the conversation with the uninvited guest to end, or if she sees that you are uncomfortable, Ruan Mei will bluntly say that you are not interested and take you away.

If a very persistent fan comes across, then there is no doubt that Ruan Mei will not stand on ceremony and put the person in his place. Few people will want to deal with a famous scientist.

In any case, you will never understand that Ruan Mei is jealous. For her, jealousy will become a kind of object of study, perhaps she will specifically ask you to flirt with other people to see how far things will go.

[torialefay]

Going back to Chris jorking it lol do you think he tries hard to hold back his moans like covering his face with a pillow or biting down on his blankets or shirt to not be too loud? I feel like he’d be too paranoid of any member walking in on him doing it that. he’d probs lock his door or wait for everyone to be asleep but idk… If you think about it because they all have their own rooms now they have that privacy of being sexually active so I’m not surprised if hes felt so deprived of not being able to do anything when he was sharing a room with the others that he now jacks off like a mad man haha but what are ur thoughts??

i am a proud member of the "chris is extremely vocal in bed" club!!!!

when it comes to ✨jorking✨😭 it though, i would say yes, he still gets a lil vocal, but nothing crazyyyy.

but let's think ab this for a second: that man doesn't wear clothes... like he doesn't wear clothes. not only would he not have anything to bite down on, but he also has free access 24/7. that being said, the other members talk ab him being naked in front of them all the time, so he probs has good... self control? hell idk what to call it. basically, he's probably good at hiding his *tendencies* around others.

but at night, when everyone else is asleep, he jacks off hard. i feel like he actually probably has a really high sex drive. i read a study not too long ago (if i can find it again, i'll link it), where the average amount of times a male in chan's age range got off in a week was between 3-7 times. i'd venture to assume he's on the higher end, except for maybe if he comes home so physically exhausted that he passes tf out.

but as for mental exhaustion??? that man is rubbing one out and calling it a night. a lot of people say that getting off before bed actually helps them fall asleep easier, and we all know christopher is the king of not falling asleep. i'm sure he uses it in rotation as one of his remedies 🤭

but back to being loudddd, he definitely lets out some soft noises and grunts, but he's careful to not be too loud. i really don't think he wants to risk the members hearing him. but like, if he gets reallllly into it, and he IS letting his imagination take him away, i can imagine him letting out a few soft whispers to whoever he's thinking about.

i def think he's a combo of porn, maybe a litttttle smut from time to time, & i do think he lets scenarios play out in his head. i think we'd all be lying if we said chris never fantasizes about stuff stays have said to him. he's just a weak weakkkk man. take this with a grain of salt (i know some people are gonna get mad ab me saying this ab our "wholesome leader"), but he's a horny 26 y/o guy with somewhat loser-like tendencies, a dozen complexes ab his appearance, & getting absolutely zero play... yet people are posting about what they'd do to his "big, hard cock" or how his nose "would feel so delicious to ride on" & you're telling me he isn't getting turned on AT ALL? like nahhhh he definitely thinks ab it sometimes. maybe even ab multiple people doing all of those things to him at once. does he have a little bit of a power/corruption kink too and maybe thinks ab abusing it at times? it's likely he's at least had a few instances of that. or he’s tempted to say the least.

this was all a very long-winded way to say: christopher gets extremely horny, he thinks about/watches all different kinds of things, and he def wants to moan depending on the situation, but he is great at keeping it low.

that's it. that's all i've got.

[unfortunate17]

Hi! "Are you sure everything is okay?" for the 5 sentence thingy? 💜 ive been thinking about the new fools in a fable chapter all day idk how i will ever recover

Tina!!!!! Thank you for the lovely prompt, here is…..a Wilmon!soulmate/soulmark something 😖 hope you’re somewhat satisfied haha.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Wilhelm looks away, gnawing at the ragged flesh of lip. Despite Erik’s voice echoing faint and tinny over the phone, his tone is far too knowing for his liking. “Yeah,” he repeats, slamming his locker closed. “I’m fine.”

“Wille, you know I can’t help you if you never tell me anything.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he insists, “I’m just really fucking tired.”

“Fine,” Erik sighs, sounding exasperated, “if that’s how you’re going to be, then - ”

“Then what?” Wilhelm snarls, “if I’m going to be like what, Erik?”

“If you’re going to be like this,” Erik snaps, sounding frustrated. “I just called to check up on you, Wille, you don’t need to jump down my fucking throat about it.”

“Yeah, well, what part of I’m fine do you not fucking understand?”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then, Erik scoffs. “Okay,” he huffs an annoyed laugh, “you can call me back when you’re done being a dick.”

“Fuck you.”

“Yeah,” Erik says coolly, “fuck you too, little brother.”

The line goes dead then, and Wilhelm has to fight against the urge to throw his phone across the hallway. Instead, he finds himself slamming a palm against the front of his locker, the metal rattling loud and sudden around him. The resulting, sharp pain makes him hiss, even if his body is still thrumming with tightly wound rage.

He blinks down at his hand for a long moment and the cheery, golden heart etched into the back of it stares back at him mockingly. What is supposed to be a promise of love and understanding has quickly turned into Wilhelm’s worst nightmare. There has to be some way to get rid of it. Wilhelm can’t spend the rest of his life looking down at it, imagining and wishing for what could have been.

The soft sound of a throat clearing behind him interrupts his spiraling, and Wilhelm spins around at once.

Sure enough, it’s Simon standing there. Because of course it is. Simon in all his beautiful, curly-haired glory, looking as though he’s been touched by the sun itself.

He’s clutching a set of notebooks to his chest, eyes wide and worried. Wilhelm can’t help the way his own gaze zeros in on the back of Simon’s hand, desperate for even a glimpse of the matching golden heart that resides there.

It’s easy to find today, peeking out from behind Simon’s deep purple sleeve.

“Hey,” Simon says. He sounds awkward, hesitant.

For a second, Wilhelm is seized with the hope that Simon has sought him out, that maybe, Simon actually wants to talk to him. He wipes his palms on the sides of his jeans. “Hi.”

They stare at each other for a moment, caught in a breathless dance of silence.

Then Simon tilts his head towards the lockers behind where Wilhelm is standing, gesturing to the books in his arms. “Sorry, could I - ?”

The hope rushes out of him so fast that Wilhelm feels woozy with the loss of it. “Yeah,” he slumps, moving over, “sorry, go ahead.”

He watches as Simon moves to his own locker, twisting the lock open with long, elegant fingers. As he slides the books in though, he hesitates, eyes flickering over to where Wilhelm is still standing there, staring. “Are you - okay?”

Wilhelm swallows, his voice coming out hoarse. “Fine.” He grits his teeth against the urge to do something pathetic. “You?”

Simon’s arm jerks as he closes his locker door, turning the lock once more. “I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

At that, Simon’s eyes narrow. The first sign of a fight. “Should I not be?”

“I don’t know,” Wilhelm scoffs, “you tell me.”

Simon makes an aborted movement, almost like he’s contemplating making a break for it. At his side, his hands turn to fists. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“What’s my problem?” Wilhelm asks incredulously. “What the fuck is your problem?” There are distress flares going off at the back of his mind now, but Wille stamps them out as quickly as they light.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I mean - I’m not - ” Wille gestures wildly between them, “I’m not the one who doesn’t want this. Us.”

Simon’s expression crumples. “Wille - ”

“No, like, it’s fine, it’s not that I - care that much. But - ” Wille laughs, the sound ringing hysterical in the empty corridor, “you’re supposed to be mine.”

Simon’s face floods with color. He looks outraged. “Don’t ever say anything like that to me again.” He turns his back to Wille, turns to the door, turns to leave him behind once more, and a panic so vicious claws its way up Wille’s chest that he can barely breathe.

“Wait,” he begs, reaching out to grip Simon’s warm shoulder. “Wait, Simon. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Simon stills, uncertain eyes flickering back to him over his shoulder.

“What I mean to say is,” Wille struggles for air. He has to get this right. It might be his last chance. “I’m yours. We - we’re a match.”

Simon is quiet for a long time. When he finally speaks, it’s only to say, “So?”

“So - we - we’re supposed to be together,” Wilhelm hopes he doesn’t sound like he’s begging but he’s not sure if it’s really working.

“Says who?”

Wille swallows tightly, tracing the soft, delicate curve of Simon’s jaw with his eyes. “I don’t understand. Did I - did I do something wrong, Simon? Is that why you don’t - want me?”

Something jolts across Simon’s face then, a raw emotion that’s gone before Wilhelm can fully catalog. Suddenly, he scrambles towards the door. “I have to go,” he tries to duck out of Wille’s grasp. “The bus is going to - “

Wille catches his wrist, tugging until Simon turns to face him, his eyes wide and wet. “Just tell me why,” Wille begs, “I’ll leave you alone after this, I promise. Simon. I’ve had this mark since I was four. I’ve been looking for you for - for - ”

“And I’ve had this mark since last Wednesday,” Simon breaks, voice loud enough to make him wince.

Wille flinches, his insides going cold. “What do you mean by that?”

“Come on, Wille,” Simon rolls his eyes. He looks angry, brows pulled together unhappily. “Your friends shit on me all the time. Your cousin shits on me all the time. And you just stand there and laugh.”

“I don’t laugh!”

Simon looks at him in deep disbelief. “Uh - yeah you do. And it’s whatever. It’s not like I expect you to stand up for me or something. We barely know each other.”

“But we could get to know each other,” Wille shoots back hotly.

“For what?” Simon lets out a breath of bitter laughter. “It’s not like you would’ve looked twice at me if it weren’t for that fucking mark.”

Wilhelm feels his mouth part in shock. He does a double take of Simon, of the lovely silhouette of his slender shoulders, his soft looking curls, his smooth, unblemished skin, the button nose, the fire that lights his dark eyes, the steel that lines his spine. “That’s not true.”

But Simon only rolls his eyes. “Wake up, Wille, we literally have nothing in common. You’re not my fucking soulmate.”

Wilhelm bites back a sharp flare of hurt. He lets go of Simon’s wrist. “Okay. Fine,” he concedes, vision blurring with tears. “Maybe I’m not your soulmate. But you’re definitely mine.“

From his pocket, his phone buzzes twice. Wilhelm shoots Simon one last smile, drinking in his sweet, wide-eyes gaze before he turns, pulling the offending device out just to give his hands something to do. Perhaps he should call Erik back now, maybe even come clean about everything.

He waits for the telltale sound of receding footsteps, but they never come. Instead, there’s a quiet shuffling, followed by a blissful line of heat pressed along his back.

Simon buries his nose in crook of his neck, and Wilhelm almost jumps out of skin from how good it feels. The heart on his hand feels like it’s singing, warm and alive.

“Alright,” Simon whispers, looping an arm around his middle. The fear in his voice is palpable. “Let’s try then. If you’re so sure.”

Wille reaches down to thread their fingers together, hearts lining up as one. He shakes his head. “Not if you don’t want to, Simon.”

“Of course I do,” Simon’s voice is very quiet, “that’s what makes it so scary.”

Wilhelm squeezes his hand tighter, too afraid to breathe. “You can trust me.”

There’s a long moment of silence, weighted in its intensity. Against him, Simon’s frame shakes. “Okay.”

Wilhelm exhales deeply, nodding. He tries his best to ignore how it sounds like Simon is lying.

[madzlang]

COD REQUEST

Simon Riley with a shy reader who has ZERO experience with men.

as much as I would’ve loved to make this full blown smut, my brain would not allow that with this ask so no smut 😝 this time at least. if I get enough motivation (and this gets enough notes), I’ll probs make a second part that has smut

anyways, thanks for the ask 😘

Bread, Croissant, and a Date

simon riley x fem!reader

warnings: sorta smutty-ish, just Simon being kinda pervy and stuff

The ding of the small bakery door on the corner of the street echoed around the almost empty shop, that was nearly a singular room if not for the tiny kitchen through the back door.

Simon Riley looked around, seeing an old man sitting at the one table, sipping a coffee and holding a news paper, giving Simon a dirty look as if he interrupted his peace.

Simon raised his brows, walking to the counter and tapped on the bell after seeing the sign near it that said: “ring the bell if I’m not at the counter :)”

A few moments later, a small girl, who was around a foot shorter than Simon, hurried to the counter, a blush on her cheeks.

“Sorry.” She spoke, her voice small as she looked at the counter.

“Don’t worry about it, love.” Simon responded, his voice rough as he looked at her, his eyes trailing up and down her body.

Her eyes darted up to look at him, the blush on her cheeks even darker.

“Uh- what.. what can I get you?” She asked quietly, looking up at him.

“Just a loaf of bread, love.” His eyes were still glued to her body as he spoke.

She nodded, turning around and walking to where she kept the bread, her back turned to him.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down her body, stopping on her ass before looking back up as she walked back.

She placed the loaf of bread on the counter, saying a quiet “$1.50”.

He nodded, giving her the money in coins as he picked up the loaf of bread. “Thanks love.” He said lowly as he walked out, the ding of the bell echoing around the bakery once more.

A week later, Simon reentered the bakery. He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted this time, well, apart from the sweet girl working there.

He walked up to the counter, seeing the same old guy from the week before, sitting in the exact same spot, doing the exact same thing he was last week.

Simon tapped on the bell, watching as the girl came out of the back room a few moments later.

“Hi.” She said quietly, looking up at him, a look of recognition on her face, but she quickly looked down again. “What can I get you?”

His eyes darted around the shop, trying to stop his eyes from landing on her tits (although the did many times), and actually find something he wanted.

“Uh, can I get a croissant, darling?” He asked after a few moments.

She nodded, bending down to grab a paper bag and open the display case, getting a croissant out.

Simon had to physically bite his tongue from letting out a groan as he saw her bend down, his thoughts going wild about how her dress tightened on her ass.

She stood up a few moments later, her cheeks pink as she put the paper bag containing the croissant on the counter. “$3.00” she spoke softly, her gaze down at the counter.

He nodded, sliding the amount over in coins. “Thanks, pretty girl.” He missed out on her cheeks turning as red as a tomato as he turned around and left, a sly smile on his face, a bulge in his pants, and a paper bag containing a croissant he didn’t even want in the first place.

Simon couldn’t help but visit the bakery once more, only a few days later.

The bell dinged and he ignored the dirty looks the old man was giving him as he approached the counter.

The girl immediately came out of the back room, approaching the counter, looking up at the him.

“Hi. What can I get you?” She asked, her tone slightly more quite than last time.

“Your number, love.” He spoke, his rough voice a stark contrast to her sweet and quiet voice.

Her cheeks turned bright pink and her eyes widened.

“Sorry.. what?” She asked quietly.

“Your number. So I can ask you out on a date.” Simon was quite proud with his display of confidence, leaning on the counter and running a hand through his messy blond hair.

The girl’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to respond before she reached under the counter and pulled her phone out, opening her contacts list and giving it to him, silently telling him to put his number in.

“You gonna message me if I do this?” He asked although he was already typing his number in.

She shrugged and nodded, her cheeks still bright pink.

“Good girl.” He said lowly, giving her phone back, turning around and leaving, a grin on his face once more.

Part 2 is postedd

[brwnbnny]

I have no proof but Chris is definitely a jealous guy (so imagine some guy flirting with you and he tries to be subtle about being annoyed until he has enough and takes you to the nearest room and FUCKS YOU HARD!! (And raw if that’s ok with you)

Need Jealous Chris so so much its awful.

warnings: jealousy sex, bicep choke-hold, semi-public, bent over the bathroom sink sex... prob forgetting smth idk

Jealous!Chris growing agitated as this dumbass guy will not quit flirting.. and he's making good jokes and making you laugh- a lot. too much for his liking.

Jealous!Chris who scoops up beside you, a rough hand gripping the fat of your hip as you jump from the harshness for a sec- looking up at him and seeing his very different expression as he looks down and-

Whoa. What's up with him?

"Hey..i need your help with something real quick..."

"oh-oh okay!... ah-was nice talking to you!"

He grips your hand with a roughness he's never really shown before and you now grow concerned you did something to upset him

he drags you into the bathroom- quickly locking it before he gets you pinned against the sink, your tailbone making harsh contact with the granite.

"are you o-"

"You having a lot of fun getting attention for another guy aren't you?"

"What!? What the hell are you talking about, Chris? We were talking abou-"

"I don't really give a shit about what you were talking about- you're pretty oblivious to people flirting with you, so i'll tell you now he was flirting with you"

before you can say anything one of his big hand lightly squeezes your throat as he zero's in on your face- his eyes dark, very dark... your nose brushing his as he speaks lowly

"Maybe i should show you to not overly indulge in chatting up other guys?"

He has you flipped around in seconds- a hand holding your jaw while he practically grinds himself into your ass covered by your unbelievably short skirt.

"Want you to look at me through this mirror while i make sure you know who your fucking boyfriend is."

Now you're locked in his bicep while he rails you the hardest this man has ever fucked you prior to this.

you're finding it extremely hard to keep quiet and the occasional violent snap of skin is probably already giving away what's happening but luckily knowing Josh he'll just encourage it because Chris has never acted this way before...

your head as hanging a bit as your body gets violently jostled by the force of Chris's cock ramming so harshly into your cunt.

"O-oh-holyfuck-w-why have i n-ah-never fucked you like this.. before?"

HWHDJW NEED ITTTEHFHHS