#still don't like that fic name but i like parts of it separately for my dear dear symbolism so welp

[cakeiscoolsblogthing]

I have a theory.

This is going to be a long post, but I don't know how to do the "read more" thing, sorry.

Bear with me for a minute. So I realized recently that I don't actually see that much Mabel or Ford hate, it's mostly stuff I hear from other people. (What I see is generally more subtle, like I read a fic that was good, but Ford took responsibility for Filbrick kicking Stan out. What was he supposed to do? He's 17 too! I also saw someone say the apocalypse wasn't Mabel's fault, it was Ford's. I'd just like to say that it was Bill's fault and Ford was manipulated into building that portal.)

But I do see a lot of Billford. It keeps on showing up in my suggested communities and the "For You" thing, despite The Book Of Bill portraying it as a very manipulative, horrifically abusive relationship. (When I say relationship, I don't necessarily mean romantic. It could have been a completely platonic horrifically abusive relationship.) And I have to wonder if, because Bill is a triangle, we let him get away with things we wouldn't if he were a human and/or doing these things directly to Ford.

Say that there was a movie. In it, there are two human men. Their relationship is clearly built on manipulation, and when the manipulated realizes that he's being manipulated, he tries to leave. The manipulator proceeds to torture him. You see this onscreen and it's horrible. The manipulator drives a nail through this guy's hand, shoves spiders down his throat, humiliates him . . .

Would people ship these two characters? This is the main fandom I'm in, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say probably not. (I'd like to say that I don't have a problem with people who write them as together . . . as long as it's portrayed as the abusive relationship it actually WAS and not a good relationship.)

All of those were actual things that happened in The Book of Bill. I didn't even mention the psychological torture (He makes Ford forget his OWN NAME) and forced sleep deprivation.

But Bill is a triangle. Bill isn't doing these things directly to Ford. He's doing them while in Ford's body, which is arguably possibly more horrific than if Bill was a separate person doing these things to him, but it's not something that could happen in real life.

But in this analysis of Ford: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58698496/chapters/158032750 when speaking of the torture Ford endured during Weirdmageddon, Callipraxia mentions that the fact that people can't electrocute others "takes at least some of the realism and therefore some of the horror out of the situation." (I apologize if this quote is incorrect, I couldn't find the part where she says this in this quite long work.)

And that makes me wonder if, again because Bill is a triangle and the things he does are literally impossible, it makes people less inclined to see his relationship with Ford as abusive when I have read two separate analyses (one of them is the one referred to above) that straight up say "This reads like a domestic abuse situation." One of them (the one NOT linked above, I'll look for it later) says that Bill hits every. Single. Criteria. For an abuser.

Even before Ford learned what Bill was really there to do, their relationship wasn't good. Bill doesn't show up for months and when Ford asks him where he's been, Bill responds by basically gaslighting him and making him doubt McGucket.

And there's one more thing I noticed. I wasn't in the GF fandom when the show was airing, but I'm pretty sure Billdip didn't become a popular ship until after Sock Puppet Opera, much the same as Billford wasn't so popular until TBOB. It's a pattern of "Bill abuses someone, then gets shipped with that someone." It's quite disturbing.

I know people are going to ship what they're going to ship, but Bill x Pines family members really shouldn't be so popular imo.

Tl;dr: If Bill were a human and you saw him torturing Ford, would you still ship them?

I'm pretty sure I forgot some of what I was going to say, so I might edit this later or reblog it with the extra information.

I do want to say that I do NOT support being rude, sending hate comments or death threats to people who do ship this. Don't do that. Just wanted to say, just in case.

I also want to say that though I put "anti Billford" and "anti Billdip" in the tags, I'm pretty sure I'm not an anti, though I haven't been able to fully figure out what the term means.

Another addendum: I am NOT qualified to be talking about abuse.

This is just a theory.

[nakanotamu]

Oh lmao I'm friends with both of the two (2) people who have wrangled wrestling the past four or five years now, so I'm not 100% sure of all the policies this is just stuff I've seen them talking about. Before them, all wrestling was unwrangled, which led to a lot of mess and bloat that's not 100% fixed, and before that the person wrangling it made a lot of decisions that ended up not being very practical based on a very different idea of how this stuff should work, but became "policy" and is difficult to change now. I would ask one of them to weigh in but I don't really think either of them want the potential heat associated with people knowing they handle the ao3 tags for all of wrestling but I'll do my best:

Ao3 has very specific rules for when and how to canonize tags, and they fit wrestling extremely poorly. It's two people doing their best to apply a system that is designed for cataloguing and permanence to the unbelievably ephemeral world of wrestling.

They both have very much more than a passing familiarity with wrestling, but that's not to say anybody knows every wrestler. Neither of them follow WWE. They both know how to do research and will spend fic writer amounts of time looking up every wrestler they don't know.

Nothing is automated. Every tag has to be dealt with manually. There are also rules about how many tags they're supposed to change all at once to not overtax Ao3's servers, so it's a balancing act of when to do big renames. Every time a WWE wrestler, especially a big one like Saraya or Edge, goes to AEW, it's a nightmare for them.

It's not based on who uses a tag first and it really shouldn't be. Like think about it, how many people do you know who would use the | format for a tag that wasn't already there? Also, think about how often wrestlers change their names. Do you think no one is writing fic about Jon Moxley | Dean Ambrose and using the names interchangeably on the same dude? Do you think those fic should all be kept 100% separate based on which name they used? How about Io Shirai | Iyo Sky, are those separate characters who shouldn't be findable in the same search?

Canonization is based on Rule of 3. Something is up for canonization once it has 3 uses, I think it has to be 3 separate uses I don't remember the exact details. Then, once canonized...

Synonymisation (synning) is when two tags are linked as, well, synonymous. This is the purpose of canonization, is having a canonical tag to syn them to, because the intent is that someone searching for one character can go to that canonical tag and find all of the works relevant to that search. So go ahead and use whatever tag for whoever you want, it'll get synned to the wrestler's canonical, that's the important part. Bc of the way Ao3 is set up it only recommends canonicals to you while you're filling them in but very few people actually write their tags like that.

Again bc wrestling is such a unique beast there isn't a hard and fast rule as to how that should be done. They're doing their best to sort through a combination of what is the nature of the characters vs how are people using the names.

Neither of them really loves the way wholly different characters played by the same wrestler get synned, but the precedent was established before them that they should be and there's significant enough writing for most examples like that that does treat them like the same person that they kind of have to go with that.

To specifically respond to the examples above, Swerve Strickland & Isaiah Scott are the same dude. Like that's one character. There's also a significant chance anybody searching his old NXT name would still want to see Swerve stuff too, or that people searching Swerve could be interested in the old fic that never originally got tagged that. So they get synned, even though probably everyone writing fic about him now just uses Swerve. Killshot probably doesn't have enough usage to warrant his own canonical, and also ambiguously is or is not kind of Swerve, so it probably got wrapped in and updated when the Swerve tag was canonized, but didn't have enough usage to just stay as Killshot. The Chuck Taylor one you're free to use but it would never get canonized because a) it's too long and b) nobody is using most of those names. It would get synned to the Chuck Taylor tag. Luchasaurus is not synned to Austin Matelson, I checked, it's synned to Judas Devlin, which was his name on the indies & in FCW pre-Luchasaurus. My guess would be there were tags used pre-AEW that included it and/or there's enough fic about him where they call him that that it warranted inclusion even if like 99% of the time it's just Luchasaurus.

Also it's two people with other stuff going on they just make honest mistakes sometimes.

Anyway I hope that helps, I may have some of the details a bit off bc I don't work on it myself I've just seen them talking about it like I said. If it really bugs you you're free to volunteer with ao3, anyone can and they need the help.

I love the way wrestlers gimmicks get sorted on ao3 bc it ends up being up to the discretion of the first couple ppl who write them what tag ends up being common. Half of wrestlers arent even marked the same guy as their name on the indies but according to ao3 canon the 64 million yr old dinosaur IS the same guy as that one big brother contestant that had an affair on the show

[hellfridge]

jayvik epigraph I

You held to me like a lung to breath We collided head first Our lips never met but merged and though I've never kissed you I have tasted an eternity inside you with no moment wasted just once. (until air came between us)

aaand the song this made me think of, which might fit the longing vibe in these flashbacks? hm

[reidrum]

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

A/N: if i stared at this any longer it would never see the light of day...so here she is! this is the longest fic i've ever written and i'm kinda gagged about that but i really hope you like it and if you don't that's okay too this is just silly angsty brainrot anyways thanks for reading this my inbox is open if you wanna yap more summary: in which your kidnapping forces you and spencer to face the fallout following your recently ended relationship cw: angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped/held hostage, implications and mentions of SA to reader but nothing happens, cm type violence, ex!spencer, lowkey lovers to enemies back to lovers, cat adams, medical jargon, miscommunication trope, the bau team is family, afab!reader, pet names wc: 5.1k

Every case you and Spencer have been on has been insufferable for the rest of the team since your falling out, if it had to be given a name. Everyone always had to deal with your constant bickering and harsh words. It was the same in every case, a difference of opinions that led to incessant fighting between you two, Hotch would have to separate you both and use your joint intelligence separately for the sake of keeping everyone alive.

This last case was nothing different, a serial killer in Athens, Georgia who was religiously sacrificing young women in the name of a cult. Both of you fighting over what you believed the other to be wrong about in their part for solving the case. Spencer thought the unsub would have struck in a zone closer to his home, you assumed he was only going after women who resembled someone in his life. The real problem was that you were both wrong.

And it ended with you being held hostage.

It all happened so fast. You were in the car with Spencer and Rossi driving out to the unsub’s house to check for new evidence when you had stopped at a gas station about 15 miles out from the house to refuel. Rossi got out of the car to pump the gas, Spencer sat in the passenger seat, and you went inside to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack.

You quickly washed your hands after finishing in the bathroom and wiped your hands on your pants, still slightly damp as you turn the handle of the door. As you’re perusing the aisle looking for a snack, you can feel the presence of watchful eyes on you. Casually, you slowly look up and around at the source and clock a figure an aisle over with a cap turned downward blocking their face. 

Your gut was sending flares up, telling you that danger was near. You nonchalantly walk over to the aisle he’s in, pretending to look at the nuts and dried fruits while attempting to get a look at his face. In a (maybe not so) bright idea, you think to knock a bag of nuts on the floor next to the lurker’s feet in the hopes he’ll bend down to pick it up for you.

With a push of your hand, the bag knocks off the shelf and onto the floor and you both bend down to pick it up.

“I’m so sorry about that,” you chuckle lightly, “I’m such a clutz.”

“No problem at all, Miss—.” He stops talking all of a sudden, you’re unsure why. You follow his gaze to your left hip where your FBI credentials are peaking out.

Shit.

He draws a weapon faster than you’re able to react with getting your own out, and by the time yours is out the barrel of his is flush with your forehead.

“Drop it.”

You quickly recognize the man as your unsub, miles away from his hunting ground and about to stray from his victimology with you.

“Come on, up. We’re going for a little ride.” He snarls, glancing outside at the black SUV with your colleagues. He grabs you by a hairful and drags you out the back door, shooting the gas station clerk before making the escape with you to his pickup truck. You’re shoved against the car door, back facing him, as he place a zip tie on your wrists and opens the door to sit you in the back seat. The unsub gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, glaring at you through the rear view mirror, “I’m gonna have fun with you, fed.”

Meanwhile, back in the car Rossi stands at the pump waiting for the tank to fill and Spencer remains in the car looking over the case details once more. He can’t help but feel something is wrong, but can’t place his finger on it. He looks over the details again meticulously, searching for a fault anywhere in your, or even his own logic. Rossi closes the tank and hops back in the car, “She’s not back yet?” he pondered.

Spencer hadn’t even realized you weren’t back yet, “I guess not,” something wasn’t right, “She went ten minutes ago right?”

Rossi nods, opening his mouth to speak when a gunshot coming from the gas station cuts him off. The men look at each other, eyes widened and rush out of the car, weapons drawn.

“FBI!” Rossi enters, looking for any sign of you but coming up empty. Spencer takes note of the disheveled store, produce and cans lying astray. He steps around the mess to find an out of place bag of sour gummy worms on the floor in the middle of an aisle only filled with nuts and dried fruit. 

Sour gummy worms were your favorite.

A sinking feeling settles in Spencer as he tries to fight the reality his brain is trying to tell him. He looks to Rossi with a pained expression, and Rossi matches it back.

“He took her.”

___

The next few hours are a blur for Spencer.

Rossi called the team to meet them at the gas station, already telling Garcia to hack into the security cameras to find any clue of where he’d taken you. Emily and Derek were checking out the crime scene, Hotch and Rossi talking to the sheriff. JJ finds Spencer staring off onto the one road connected to the station.

“We’re gonna find her, Spence.”

He whips his head up at the sound of her voice, “I should’ve realized sooner. I knew there was something off about his MO, a—and I just couldn’t place it. And now she’s gone and it’s all my fault and I never—“

“Spencer,” JJ interrupts softly, “You couldn’t have known. None of us did, even her.”

“I should have,” he laments, “And if she…if something happens to her because I wasn’t paying attention…” He trails off, too afraid of what his brain thinks is the ending of the sentence.

JJ offers him a sympathetic look, understanding the conflicting emotions, “We’ll find her, she’s strong. You know that.”

He stares back at her hoping, praying, that she’s right and you’re going to be okay. You have to be.

He’s pulled out of his head by Morgan calling him and JJ over, telling Garcia on the phone to repeat her findings.

“Okay, I think I have a lead based on the security camera footage on the car he has and where it’s been last seen. I’m sending the last known coordinates to your phones now.” 

An idea springs to him, “Garcia, can you also check the gas station records and see how much he filled his tank?”

The clacking sounds of her keyboard ring through the phone before she speaks again, “He didn’t fill a full tank, only like, fifteen miles worth of gas.”

Everyone looks up at each other in realization of what the new information means. You had to be close by. Morgan walks over to tell Hotch, who immediately talks to a state ranger about setting up a 15 mile radius around the gas station with monitored roadblocks, no entry or exit without inspection. 

After Hotch finishes he walks back to Spencer and lays a hand on his shoulder, “Good job, Reid,” He nods back with a thin lipped smile and fiddles with his pen anxiously, “Are you okay?”. Spencer can’t tell if he’s genuinely asking him or if he’s asking him for the sake of him being able to do his job properly considering the circumstances. Ever the profiler that man is, he thinks.  He nods again nonetheless and walks over to meet Derek at the car.

Spencer and Derek get into the car and set the route for the coordinates Garcia gave, ETA 14 minutes. He swallows nervously, do you even have 14 minutes? What if he’s too late? What if you’re not even there? What if he never got to tell you—

“Reid. Are you even listening?”

“What?”

Derek raises his eyebrows as he glances at his friend, “Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re a shit liar, man.”

“I’m not lying.” Even he doesn’t believe himself.

“Spencer—“

“I’m just worried! Okay? We’re all worried, it’s not a big deal.” he snaps.

Derek stops at a red light and looks over the console, “I’m going to ignore whatever that was,” guilt sweeps over Spencer’s face as he continues, “I’m not stupid kid, I know how you’re feeling. But you can’t let whatever turmoil you got in that big brain of yours affect this case. Not now.”

“I know that, Morg—“

“No, you don’t. I know you’re thinking about her, we all are. And we all want—need—her to be okay too. We will find her, but we can’t let the unsub get away too.”

Spencer sighs outwardly seeing the truth in his words. As concerned as he was about you he needed to remember this was still an active case. He couldn't let your past with each other cloud his judgement, even if the fallout still haunts him every day of his life. He needs to save you, but he also has a job to do. He just wasn’t sure if he’d remember that when they finally found you.

——

A pounding in your head stirs you awake, the bitter taste of metal flooding your senses as you come to. You blink a few times adjusting to the lowlights of the unfamiliar environment, hoping to find something distinguishable to ground you back to reality. It doesn’t help once you realize the blood crusted over your eye is the reason for your obscured vision. You attempt to rub it off on your shoulder ignoring the sharp pains shooting up from the abrasive contact. 

Once you think you’ve cleared enough you blink a few more times registering your surroundings to be a house, a cabin more accurately. Your memory is a little fuzzy as you try to recount what happened before you were knocked out cold.

Gas station. Unsub. Unsub at the gas station? But where was I…I went to the bathroom… and was getting…gummy worms?… But Rossi and Spencer were just outside… now I’m here…so does that means the unsub—

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

You jolt at the voice—the unsub you’ve come to remember—and you realize your hands are tied up behind your back, quickly coming to the second realization that you are rendered both injured and immobile.

“What do you want, Jason?” you say hoarsely after a minute.

He chuckles, “I didn’t know they made them so pretty at the academy…” he walks over and kneels in front of you, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb to move your head, “They probably kept you around for…entertainment right?”

You whip your head, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“Oh, you’re feisty. That’s good, keep it up. Makes this more fun.” he walks back over to the table and fiddles with something, you can’t really tell from the floor, “So how’d they make it work back in—what is it called—Quantico! They take turns with you or? There’s so many of y’all, probably had a system.”

The pounding in your head makes it more difficult to process anything he’s saying, “The hell are you talking about, take turns with what?” you ask, wincing through another wave of pain.

He turns around holding a metal rod and walks over, angling the rod under your chin to tilt your face up to meet his as he snarls, “I can’t wait to see how it feels to fuck a federal whore.”

All the color drains from your face and you kick into whatever gas is left in your autopilot. Your feet are flailing in every direction, body thrashing violently to prevent Jason from getting a good grip on you. You quickly learn the purpose of the metal rod hearing the clang! first, a millisecond passing before the pain and threat of unconsciousness spreads through your brain. 

The hit takes you out long enough for him to pin you down on the floor, the weight of his body landing on you before the metal rod goes for your limbs. It’s then you realize the throes of death have wrangled you for what appears to be the last time, and it’s probably wise to start saying—thinking— your final words.

To my parents, I love you. To Derek and Penelope, thank you for letting me third wheel with you. Emily, I’ll miss our weekend Sin City excursions. JJ, please give your boys the biggest hug from their favorite aunt. Rossi and Hotch, you always cared for me like I was your own—I am so grateful for you.

And Spencer…Oh, Spencer. How I hoped I would have the time to say I’m sorry for what happened, I hope you’ll forgive me in due time. I wish I told you that nothing about us ever changed for me. You were and will always be, My Spencer, I just wish I could tell you one more time how much I lov—“

“FBI, Drop your weapon!”

A clattering sound of something dropping rings directly next to your ear and the weight that was on you alleviates at the same time. You groan out and instinctively curl up on yourself, the pain spreading throughout your body. The sensory overload is so much you don’t hear the approaching figure crouching next to you.

“Hey Hey Hey,” Spencer stutters, quickly making work of the ties on your hands and holding you gently as he lays your head on his lap cradling you close, trying to hide the forming tears when he hears your whimpers of pain, “You’re okay, it’s okay. The medic’s coming.” He looks back to where the unsub was and watches Derek put him in cuffs, nodding at Spencer before walking out with Jason.

“…Spencer?” you whisper out weakly. You think you’re dreaming honestly, that in the wake of death you learn heaven isn’t a place but only his arms.

“Yeah, honey, it’s me.” he chokes out looking back down at your bruised face. He’s unsure how you still look angelic even when you’re hurt, but it doesn’t surprise him that you do. You were always good at defying the laws of nature, he prayed it extended to your immortality.

“It hurts.” you pout pathetically.

He brushes a strand of hair out of your eyes gently, “I know it does, honey I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this happened. I should’ve been there. I’m sorry, baby.” he whispers tearfully.

You cough out and whimper in pain, “I’m sorry too.”

Spencer shakes his head vehemently, “No, don’t apologize. Don’t do that, just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m right here, I won’t leave you.”

The tiredness soon wins and your eyes flutter close. Before Spencer can even panic and beg you to open them again the medic finally comes and asks him—pulls him— to move so they can start working on you.

He reluctantly backs up and watches on with glossed over eyes, barely registering all the things they were sticking in you to wake you up. The medics stabilize your neck with a C-SPINE and lift you onto the gurney, wheeling you back to the ambulance. The same medic who asked Spencer to move comes up to him again, “We’re taking her to Georgetown Medical, you’re allowed to ride in the back with us if you want.”

You slowly come to again on the gurney and Spencer meets your open eyes before you even realize they’re on you. Without hesitation he says, “Yeah, I’m coming.”

The medic team lifts your gurney inside the rig, and right before Spencer gets in he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around to find Hotch, “You’ll be okay?” 

It’s a loaded question. He’s not asking if Spencer is okay at this moment, because it doesn’t take a profiler to see that he’s the farthest from it. He says it as a grounding reminder knowing how Spencer gets about you. It didn’t matter to the team if you both fell out, the pair of you never faltered in your subconscious for each other. Both of your actions always moved faster than your brains, especially when it involved the other. 

That’s what worried his Unit Chief.

He nods and Hotch gives his shoulder a light squeeze, “Keep us updated,” the concern clearly etched in his eyes breaking through his usual stoicism as he looks inside the rig, “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Under the bright lights of the ambulance he’s—unfortunately—able to really take inventory of the injuries you sustained. The blue and black bruising scattered your limbs, the congregation of it on your stomach telling him you have at least two broken ribs. His eyes trail further down your body before abruptly stopping, but not on an appendage.

Spencer’s face pales even further than it already has staring at the glint on the undone button of your trousers shining in the reflection of the light.

If they didn’t get there when they did…If he got to you a second later…He can’t even fathom to think about what would’ve happened.

He’s broken out of his spiral by the EMT sitting next to him offering a tissue, which is when Spencer feels the tear and snot streaks rolling down his face. He takes it and wipes his face mindlessly before muttering, “Can I just…” hands reaching out to you before his words come out. Spencer doesn’t notice the EMT tearing up as he gently buttons your pants.

——

You were a fighter.

At least, that’s what the doctors told Spencer when they came and updated him in the waiting room. He blanks out for most of the conversation, eyes unfocusing and ears on low lest your name be spoken.

“She’s stable and awake now, the nurse can take you back to see her.”

He shakes his head to recenter and mutters a thank you before following the nurse through the double white doors. His senses are heightened as he walks closer to your room. The scuff of his shoes on the linoleum floors, the pedantic beeping of machines in the rooms he passes, until he hears the only voice that’s ever been enough to calm the warzone in his mind.

“Hi, Spence.”

His feet move on their own accord right next to your bedside, hands hovering awkwardly at his side. He’s silent for the first couple minutes, just a faint sniffle here and there before he takes a seat near your bed and hears you speak again.

“You can touch me, Spence. I won’t break more than I already am.”

“Don’t say that,” he chides quickly, “It’s not a joke.”

“Well, someone should be the comedic relief here.”

He lays the tips of his fingers right on top of the tips of yours, “You could have died.”

Your face softens, “I didn’t though.”

“You could have.”

“Spencer—“

“Stop down playing it. You don’t know what it was like finding you like that.”

“I mean I have some idea, ‘cause like, I was there.” 

Spencer deadpans at your poor attempt at lightening the mood, a faint smile peaking through while he shakes his head, “Insufferable even at your deathbed.”

“Yeah, the Grim Reaper heard me yapping and said ‘keep her’.”

He chuckles softly as his hand moves further up to rest the front of his palm on the back of your hand, “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve…been better. The doctor said one of my broken ribs punctured an artery, a big one apparently,” you flip your hand over so both of your palms are touching but not laced, you softly continue, “Told me I was lucky I came in when I did. Any later the internal bleeding would’ve spread to my lungs.”

Spencer feels the tears springing again and a lump forming in his throat, “I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” the pet name slipping out before he could realize, “I should’ve gotten there sooner, or realized something was wrong at the gas station.”

“Hey. Don’t do that. You saved my life.” your fingers intertwine with his and squeeze with whatever strength you can muster, which isn’t a lot and it makes his heart clench tighter. “I’m here.”

He lets out the breath he’s been holding since he walked in, “You’re here.”

“I didn’t forget what you promised me when we…broke up,” God you wish it didn’t sound so terminable as it did, “I knew you’d find me. You always do.”

Another sniffle leaves him as he rubs his thumb soothingly on your hand, “I always do…Look, there’s something I need to tell you—“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Penelope & Company burst into your room bearing balloons, chocolates, and many, many stuffies.

“How’s our girl doing?” Penelope huffs, hauling an entire Hallmark catalog worth of gifts in tow.

“She’s doing fine, Penny.” you chuckle lightly, trying your best to hide the wince of pain from your side, “You did not need to do all this.”

“Nonsense, everyone knows bear stuffies are the real medicine of the world.” she gleefully ignores the nurse onlookers, “I also brought you this, of special request by someone who shall not be named.” From her back she produces a bag of your favorite candy—sour gummy worms. A fact that you knew only one person was privy to.

You act surprised nonetheless, “My favorite! Thank you, Penny. And all of you, for coming to see my crippled self.”

Spencer watches the team take turns doting on you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sit with you for about four Gilmore Girls episodes—another lost relic of modern medicine, according to Penny—after which Morgan, Rossi, and Hotch keep you company for a little bit before bidding you good night with forehead kisses and well wishes. Spencer stays with you the whole time, never once leaving your side. 

You are so loved, he thinks. He didn’t realize how much he liked watching you be loved. It makes him miss the times when he could do that for you too.

——

Weeks pass since the day of your kidnapping. You still find it weird to call it that, even though it’s literally what happened. You’ve been on house arrest—bed rest—begrudgingly, and while Penelope’s very glittery visiting schedule has kept you entertained, it’s been hard when the only person you really wanted to see has refused to come visit since you left the hospital.

You’ve asked Penelope why Spencer hasn’t come, and all she can offer you is a sad smile and a ‘He said something come up sweetie, sorry.’. Texting him seemed even more daunting, more because you weren’t about to beg for his attention if he obviously doesn’t want you to have it. 

The doorbell steals your attention and you glance over at the schedule before you walk over to open it, not expecting a visitor at this time.

Spencer looks up from his shoes hearing the door open, “Hey.”

A minute passes, “Why are you here?” you ask bluntly.

He looks confused, “I came to check on you, brought you takeout from the Indian place you like.” The food in his hand smells heavenly but you can’t seem to enjoy it yet without getting an answer.

“Why are you here, now?” you ask again with an addendum.

He either really wants to piss you off or his ear blew out on the way over but he chooses to ignore you and enter your apartment, “You having nightmares again?”

“What? No…” you lie poorly, straightening up your back, “Just tired.”

He chuckles, “Good to know you’re still a terrible liar. Did you know you wear Doctor Who shirts when you’re feeling anxious?”

Your brows fuddle in confusion but he elaborates, “It’s probably subconscious, something you find comforting and naturally gravitate to in times of distress. It’s a normal stress response but…you’re wearing an Eleventh Doctor shirt.” My Eleventh Doctor shirt, he thinks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” you feign.

“Maybe it doesn’t,” he nods, “But you are anxious aren’t you?”

“Spencer, what the fuck is going on, why are you here, really?” your eyes narrow, arms crossing defensively.

“I told you, I came to check on you.”

“You just woke up this morning and decided it was convenient for you to see me today?” Spencer opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. You stare at him with tearful eyes and the emotion spills out of you before you can stop it. You speak again after a few moments, voice barely above a whisper, “You left me. Again.”

He tilts his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” you grit out, “You were rooted at my bedside the entire time I was hospitalized, and the second I was discharged you were nowhere to be found. I thought, maybe with Penny’s schedule you’d come by, but then I came to find out that you didn’t even put your name down.”

“You almost died!” he retorts, “You almost died, because I made a mistake and you got hurt because of it!”

“So, that gives you the right to abandon me for the second time?”

“I didn’t…” he sighs out roughly, “I didn’t abandon you. I just, couldn’t…face you.” Face you, in pain, as a result of his actions.

“Is that what happened the first time you left?” you bite back.

His eyes steel over, “That was different.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You know why I left.”

“I don’t think I do, Spencer—”

“I left because I was putting you in danger!” he yells cutting you off, “I left because loving you meant dragging you into all the messed up stuff that happens to me, stuff that’ll keep happening to me.”

Tobias. Mexico. Cat.

A single tear rolls down your face, “That’s bullshit, I’m sorry. We work the same damn job, the risks are the same if we’re together or not.”

“You don’t understand—“

“Then fucking enlighten me, Spencer.”

He stares at you, fighting an internal battle of whether he was really willing to admit his truth to you, one that he knows you deserved to know but wasn’t sure if it would put you more in harm's way.

“Cat had details about your family.”

That’s not what you were expecting to hear. Your face drops, “Wh—What?”

His eyes dart around the room nervously, “After I got out of Millburn and we went to see Cat, she was trying all these tactics to get me to break. I was doing fine, until she started talking about you. She was saying things that only you told me, stuff that’s not even on record.”

You remember that day. You were supposed to go with him and JJ to the correctional facility but ended up stuck at the BAU because your skill set was more valuable in helping Penelope locate Mr. Scratch. You remember how he came back to you that day, distant and glassed over. It was easy to chalk up his behavior following it to his recent release, but when you woke up a few weeks later to an empty bed and a throwaway note saying ‘I’m sorry.”, you couldn’t figure out for the life of you why all of a sudden you didn’t exist to him, like you didn’t matter.

“I made a choice, one that I knew would protect you.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make.” you snap.

“I had to,” he says lowly, taking a step closer to you, “If being with me puts your safety at risk…” another step, “I’d rather live in a world where you hate me and are still here…” one more step, “Than one where you loved me and died because of it.” he manages to choke out, taking one final step towards you.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the soft whistle of the breeze coming from your open window. The resolve in you has long faded, leaving behind nothing but the skin on your bones to weather the damage. It makes sense to you why he did what he did, and you don’t know if the roles were reversed would you do the same thing. But you knew that you loved him and he loved you, and that alone should have been enough.

You can’t help but let out a whine, sounding like a petulant child, “That’s not fair, Spence.”

“What’s not fair, baby?” he softly whispers.

Your whine turns into a cry, “That, all of this. The fall on your sword act in which you decide what’s best for me is to leave me stranded, thinking I did something wrong that made you stop loving me.”

He steps forward a little more, his face mere inches from your own, “You think I stopped loving you?”

“Was I supposed to think otherwise? You couldn’t even stand being in the same room as me.”

His hands raise to gently cup your face, thumbs positioned under your eyes to wipe the fallen tears. He’s missed looking into your eyes as close as he is. For a man who doesn’t believe in religion he’s pretty certain the gates of heaven lie within your irises.

“I was selfish,” he swallows, “I wanted to keep you safe but I did so in a way that I felt was most logical, which turned out to be so fucking wrong regardless since you still got hurt.”

He brings your face impossibly closer, the warmth of his breath gently hitting your face.

“There isn’t a waking moment where I don’t love you. Even when we weren’t together, I still looked out for you and I made sure you were safe in ways I couldn’t tell you. I meant what I said. I told you I’d find you in every lifetime. I love you, in every lifetime, angel girl.”

The ache in your heart only grows with his words, reminding you that he always was and will forever be, Your Spencer.

“You can’t do that again,” you stutter out through tiny sobs, “You need to tell me what’s going on, whatever it is. We figure it out together.”

He nods softly, the hair on his forehead faintly brushing up on yours, “We figure it out together. I’m so sorry for everything, baby.” his lips press a long kiss to your forehead, “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere.”

You rise on your toes to meet your lips with his, the missed time and unspoken words flowing silently between you both. His hands wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, with yours entangling with the brown curls you had missed so much.

Finally back in his arms, you sigh with exhaustion and relief, “You’re here.”

“I’m here, honey.”

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 1) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ curator's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

A Place Called Home by @agustdakasuga

Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

Accidental Friends by Erakun06

Meet Bangtan, international superstars, the pride of South Korea, the love and hope in the dark of many lives, the role model and celebrity crush of so many people, and a group of people you often stumble across in your day to day life. You become acquaintances, slowly become friends, and- that's it. You are in a platonic friendship with Bangtan. Let me say it again. clears throat PLATONIC. Or One day, you meet a member of Bangtan, the next day, another, and another, and another, and one day, they become a group of people you often stumble across in your life. They become your acquaintances. Then your friends. Then your source of comfort, just like they are the source of comfort of millions of people in the world. What you didn't expect is that you become the same to them. It's inevitable. You are friends.

🗯️ a theme that I don't find much of, and this one was excecuted quite neatly I'd say

Ace For Hire by tokki-maknae

Who is Ace? Besides being the deadliest hitman on the market in the underground, whose really under the hood? The answers simple, well for you at least, because you are Ace. When you're not busy blurring yourself into the background noises of school, you were making a killing in the underground, both literally and figuratively. For years now Ace has become an infamous name among the other gangs and holds the reputation of being lethal and untouchable. But that all changes after a slip up that causes you to attract the unwanted attention of one persistent seven member gang. A gang that's been dying to know, who is Ace?

🗯️ badassss

At Your Service by @untaemedqueen

In which Yn is looking for an escort to accompany her to her nightmare ex and ex best friend's wedding, only to ended up falling in love with him.

Baby (you complete us) by @purpleyoonn

Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches. Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

Back Home by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites

Secretly, he was selfishly hoping that you didn’t age well. Dealing with a small crush was easy enough when he was young and knew next to nothing about girls, when you were just a cute albeit slightly weird girl he had a soft spot for. But he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if his feelings came back with a vengeance while you were living together. God, he would probably lock himself with Jungkook until you went away. OR The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

🗯️ crack fic! my fave category and this one makes me giggle in both funny way and butterfly-in-my-stomach kinda way

Beauty of Love by @imnotlauriane

When you cross eyes with your soulmate, you get flashes of memories that have yet to happen. You can't see the same memory as the other and it can be either good or bad. It's not always terrible, but a thing is for sure. No matter what you do, it will happen. But are things always what they seem to be?

Between The Bloodshed series by @agustdakasuga

🗯️ this series... I just love. plot is super neat, relationship doesn't feel forced, etc etc

❶ Between The Bloodshed

Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that you would have to leave your life behind and build a new one.

❷ Everything Between Us

They left you hanging, they broke your heart. You didn’t get your happily ever after. But now they’re back and they’re searching for you to make things right. Could you look past the betrayal to take them back into your life and back into your heart?

Beyond The Stage by Alysheart

Alexis was going through the days simply. She was a college student in Florida, working towards her degree. When she scored tickets to the BTS concert in Korea, she didn't hesitate. She never expected to be soulmates with the seven idols.

Bound by Blood by PurpleQueenie

In a world where vampires and humans have to co-exist, where the line between tolerance and animosity blurs, how can you ever expect to get your happily ever after when your soulmates hate your very existence?

🗯️ love all the details, the slow burn, gosh just so good

Boyfriend For Hire by @remedyx

Unsatisfied with your life was an understatement. Being under the thumb of your father can have that effect. He wanted someone capable of running the company, but you wanted to pursue your passion. Countless unwanted blind dates and the threat of losing your freedom drives you to seek help from a group of individuals you'd least expected.

Breakthrough by Alphathyx

"My dreams haunt me like past memories that never existed" The Memory Dive, an invention that allows the user to dive into anyone's memories just from the collection of their DNA. Made by Professor Kim Seokjin, he created this device for the worlds secret service to solve mysteries that the ordinary field agents are unable to. With seven agents, ranging from ex military, to a university professor, college student and even a criminal, only these seven are able to use this machine to extract memories of others. They are also the only people that know how to escape it. Discover through their eyes of uncovering the darkest truths of the world, through the minds of victims.

🗯️ this one's super neat plot with complicated and technical world, just so good

Bright Colors and Loud Soulmates by Mostmouse

You resented soulmates, the whole damn concept. It just wasn't your thing, and you couldn't help but feel jealous of those who were born without soulmates, who could see the world as it was intended to be from birth. When you run into your soulmate, you're determined to stay in your own sphere of the world. Focusing on you. But, because nothing is simple in your life, it turns out he's one of seven - better yet, your seven soulmates are the globally famous band BTS. Because why wouldn't they be? OR you learn how to let your soulmates past your carefully crafted walls, and they’re more than happy to show you what a loving and supportive relationship should look like.

🗯️ a funny and cute one! (with extra h0rny characters lol)

BTS Office CEO AU by @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue

You work for seven CEOs who have called you into their office due to a complaint

Can't Wait To See You Again by AlexLorchan / @alexlwrites

The one where Jungkook develops a huge crush on a Youtuber he found after falling into the rabbit hole of his recommended videos. Unbeknownst to him, you were also recommended to his hyungs. Unbeknownst to you, all across the world seven idols were slowly falling in love with you.

🗯️ I just love the concept of the boys being fanboys :3

Choco Bun by @nunchiimagines

When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?

Combined Beings by @numinousher

You are bullied on a constant because korea’s beauty standards do not fit girls on the heavier side. the bullying gets worse once a ceo is attracted to you and he mentioned you to the other 6.

🗯️ minus the bullying elements, this story is like a comforting sweet cloud

Comfort by http-lostforever

Hybrids have been introduced into society for a handful of years now, the fighting for their rights is still happening but doesn't look promising. But when one girl finds a hybrid in danger she jumps at the chance to help, yet what she didn't know was how upside down her life was about to become. But a word of advice, not everything is as it seems.

Could We Be Together Someday? series by BTS_Mommy / @babyboy-bangtan

🗯️ mann Idk what to write lol. this is another one that I've re-read thousand times, bcs some of the boys started as fanboys then became clingy friends. also yn's so supportive I just lovee.

❶ By Chance

A misunderstanding gone viral puts you on BTS's radar, which leads to a series of events that finally culminate with you meeting them for the first time.

❷ The Moments in Between

As you become close friends with BTS, you begin to realize that the feelings you have for them are slowly turning into something you're not ready to deal with. Unbeknownst to you, the same is happening to them.

Crave by sweetinsanityy

The boys don't do well with being controlled, but for their group, they'll bite their tongue and put on a smile for management. Yet when you, a new little rookie, stumble upon them, they're like a pack of hungry wolves. Or, the boys are all Doms and they want you to be their perfect little sub.

Cursed Fate by PurpleQueenie

The universe has designed soulmates- someone that completes you. But what happens when you don't have one but seven? And all you want to do is run in the opposite direction when you see them...

🗯️ queenie's stories are just so good, you should check them all out! this one also has such great details and writing.

Deep Down by sleepingbearandbunny

Jae, unlike everyone else, has nothing against the hybrid species. She likes being alone, where she is safe from ridicule and her controlling father. When a group of hybrids save her from some trouble, fate brings them together once more.

🗯️ a harsh and complecated world this one, so they went through a lot together and I love that!

PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | NAVI

[donutz]

Hey!

So I have an idea for Sebs.. what if you did (assuming you do small fics or Headcannons) Sebs feeling really down for whatever reason (could be because of his past n how he got experimented on and stuff) and he could be having nightmares or stuff and g/n reader tries to comfort him??

Sebastian getting comforted headcanons

Sebastian's jumpy and outbursting behavior doesn't go uncomforted!

— Spooky Urbanshade nightmares😱😱 Also don't worry, I LOVE doing headcanons😛

Warnings: Nightmares; Outbursts; 'Bad' words☹️; Sebastian knows Reader, they are very acquainted with each other; Very big trust between Reader and Sebastian, like A LOT; This is like a mix of headcanons and a fic; Crying; Headcanons for Z-13 and Sebastian

Visiting Sebastian once again, you get greeted with silence. You stood up dusting off your knees.

“Uhh, you good”?

He snaps out of his thoughts, unnoticeably flinching. To other people it would be hard to notice, but you did. Your eyebrows rose at that.

 “Uhm yes— My name is Sebastian”.

“... Yea I know”.

Sebastian realizes that it was you! Not some other prisoner. Oops.

“O-Oh! It’s you”...

“Mhm”.

That encounter kind of put you on the edge. Being more aware of Sebastian, especially how he’s feeling. He was very jumpy. At times seeming even pissed that you came to see him.

Before the negative behavior, he cracked jokes every time he knew you were there. Sometimes even sending over flirty(sounding) comments.

He seems out of it.

The more times he visited, the more hints he gave you that something was going on. His stutters, him grabbing his clothing or hair, staring off into oblivion.

Maybe you should talk to him. Or get him to open up. Does he even trust you that much?

Talk to him.

TALK to him.

TALK TO HIM.

“Hey Sebastian”?

Again, snapping out of his daze, he sweeps away a part of his side bangs. His two upper hands cupping each other, sweating? His other hand gripped the bottom of his jacket.

“Uh— Yes”..?

.

.

.

“Are you okay”?

Sebastian’s right claw grips his left claw even harder. His right claw scratched the backside of his left, leaving beads of blood to slowly appear.

His body stiffs, biting his inner lip. Eyes widening. A light shiver.

Silence.

A scowl grows on his face, looking away from you.

“Yes I’m just fine”.

He looks down, noticing his bleeding left claw.

He blinks rapidly, physically taken aback by what he’d done to his hand. He coughs into his arm from shock. He didn’t even notice.

… Do you really affect him that much?

He’s used to feel hurt, pain. Not comfort.

He hasn’t felt that in a long time. Comfort. From a human.

Looking back at his hand, he shakes. Shaky gasps, a shaking body, and shocking thoughts.

Don’t shake. Not in front of a human.

Don’t—

Don’t do that.

Don’t say it.

“Actually I’m—” Sigh

…

“I’m not okay”.

Z-13

He’s very surprised and somewhat disappointed in himself that he could trust a human this much

It takes 5 minutes of sitting in silence for him to open up

Just a test… Yes just a test to see if you’ll stay

That you won’t leave.

…

When he starts to speak, it comes out shaky, as if he wants to cry, you’ll have to get him to REALLY open up if you want that

It’s hard to express your feelings, especially when you’re so traumatized

He wouldn’t initiate physical affection first, you’d have to

He doesn’t want to seem weak

Right?

Opening up, he talks about these nightmares, remembering the feeling of those experiments

The shots, not of anesthesia, of DNA.

He needed to be awake during it all.

He’s surprised he was even alive after.

The painful days of morphing, the extra eye, his bulb, it all hurt.

Okay okay I’ll try to tone it down.

Instead of crying(In front of you) he throws his head into his hands, his third arm resting on the connected piece of his tail and his torso

You can hear his little gasps, and eventually gently hold his claws, slowly separating them from his face

He’s still looking down

You look down too, seeing his tears laying on his scales.

Looking back at him, you reassure—

“You can cry in front of me Sebastian, it’s okay”.

Placing his claws on his tail, you open up your arms.

“You want a hug”?

He looks back up at you letting out a lightly audible gasp, quickly pulling you into a hug, his claws nearly the size of your torso

‘Oh wow’.

He crosses claws over, so his arms are right up against your back. With his head laying on your shoulder.

He didn’t even know he could cry anymore.

Or sweat.

… Maybe he’s still a human?

You hug him back of course, your arms going under his top ones, rubbing his back.

He wraps his tail around the both of you, pulling you closer, letting you feel his cold breath.

After a few minutes you slowly sit down, because of his weight and having to stand up.

Sebastian slowly lets go, catching you off guard.

“Oh you don’t have to let go! We can—”

“No it’s fine, I actually just don’t want a hug anymore”.

“Oh”

“And my back hurts so yeah”.

He continues to talk about the pain, trauma, with his hands rubbing against each other

His palms are sweaty, somehow

You notice the blood on the back of his hand, and act out while listening. You take a medkit you bought while nodding, saying that you’re hearing his words.

He pauses.

“You— You’re gonna—”

“Heal you? Yeah, I’m still listening though”.

He continues to speak, really hoping that you’re actually listening

By the end of ‘spilling out his feelings’, his hand is bandaged, twinning with his third arm

A weight is off his back and he feels relieved

He really appreciates your comforting words, even the ones that weren’t comfort and showing that you were listening

He thinks it’s a miracle that he could’ve ever met a human like you

You’re special in his eyes

He might tear up again, not full on cry, but just dripping tears down his face

You’ll probably both end up sleeping on top of each other, somehow your gear not detonating, maybe it’s because of that scrambler on his back

Sebastian Solace

You wake up in the middle of the night, seeing Sebastian right across you.

He’s sweating, a lot.

You raise an eyebrow, wondering how he’s so sweaty.

Sebastian wakes up abruptly from your light tap, using his arms to pick himself up, scaring the hell out of you.

“AH”!

You flinch, really hard. It’s silent until you break it.

“You good?” You laugh

After realizing that nothing is going on, he lets his face fall back into his pillow while his arms go limp.

“Yeah,” He groans

…

“No, not really”.

You manage to soften him up a bit, to where he’s sitting in your lap, taller or not he’s still sitting there(He's 5'10)

He rests his head on top of yours, sighing

“You wanna talk now”?

“... Yeah”.

He speaks his mind, talking about having these dreams of being experimented on

But in very vague detail, as if this has happened

Or going to happen.

“And it scares me.. W- What if it actually happens”?!

“If you got framed for murder then I would become your own personal lawyer”.

“I’M SERIOUS”!

“So am I. If it happens I will search for you until the end of time, Solace”.

He looks at you, backing up from you, adjusting himself so he could directly look at you

How did he get so lucky

He hugs you as you lightly rock him side to side

“... I’m not a baby y’know”.

“Yea but I would think you’d want to be babied, Sebastian”.

You felt him get physically hotter from that

After a good 5-10 minutes of rocking, you hear small snores, saying that he’s asleep

You also feel small wet spots on your shoulder, damn, this really affected him huh?

You both laid back down, moving onto your sides as he cuddles up into your chest

He’s never really done this before

On nights like this he feels pretty vulnerable, and would really appreciate being the small spoon

But will NOT tell anybody

Not like he could

Small circles being rubbed on his back, sweet words, a few kisses and you got him wrapped around your finger

He likes to listen to your heartbeat, it shows that you’re alive, and a person

He can be really soft

ONLY at home

Now his nightmares are like losing you or something

A nice shower the morning after would be nice

I’d like to think that Sebastian isn’t really 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, so he’s pretty chill and just hugging you from behind, his head on your shoulder

Of course, his lower half having some space from your bottom

“You want me to wash you too”? You joke

“... That wouldn’t be that bad actually." He 'jokes'.

He probably enjoys bath bombs, but doesn’t want to get in them

It might dye his weiner or something

He’d want to stay in bed the whole morning

By the way, Sebastian canonly has this big scar across his face, over his nose, just wanted to tell you

I hope I didn't make him seem like an uwu boi that needs protection☹️

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hi! It's me again! I'm here hoping to inspire you or simply share some thoughts and ideas!

1. What if we knew the harbingers before they became harbingers. For example when piętro was still studying to become a court mage.(At least I think that he was a court mage), or when Capitano was training to become a soldier and we were a doctor or a nurse, we knew dottore when he was a kid and so on and so forth. They believe we are long dead but surprise bitch we are still kicking. I thought that maybe in Dottores and Pantalones part we were an adeptai or simply something that lives a lot longer than humans. And surprise bitch number two we were looking for them the entire time because you know we love them. The moment they see us they think they see a ghost or something that came back to hunt them for their mistakes.

2. And my second idea is much more wholesome. We are simply a kid that adopted them as our fathers/uncles. And they don't want to get rid of us because we remind them of well them when they were kids. Imagine one day they come to a meeting with a kid hiding under there Coat and when ask they are like the meme with Spencer from Icarly with the smoothie and the ostrich.

So yeah these are my brain dead ideas and if they are interesting or something you would like to read more of I would be happy to send more

But anyway remember to take care of yourself first!

(Wha- You said piętro! The keyboard said piętro!!! Only I am allowed to misspel Pierro's name as piętro 20 times a day, dlaczego masz polską klawiaturę?!!)

✧ I always kind of headcannoned Reader as a person capable of living many years - either because they are Khaenri'ahn, another species, or an Adeptus; it's not really up to me. Whatever intricate details people like to imagine are up to them. ✧ Imagine knowing a Harbinger centuries before they were a force to be reckoned with. Perhaps you and Pierro were apprentices to the higher sages in Khaenri'ah, spending countless times sharing secret vows before the Cataclysm separated you. Perhaps you were Capitano's first-ever formidable opponent, one who held immense respect for you as a warrior and admired your enigmatic capabilities, yearning for another battle with you. Perhaps, you knew the young boy Zandik way back in Sumeru and you are the only being left who remembers the ruby-red eyes staring at you with determined wonder. ✧ No matter the backstory or origins of the past, this Harbinger never forgot you, and despite the 500 years of separation, this person would now use all his power and intel to seek you out. Clinging to ancient memories of the past, he still yearns to see a glimpse of you. Even if it means to reach the Abyss and back, he is still seeking.

That, in my opinion, is the best trope for the Fatui fics. Even when I write about different scenarios.

✧ A wholesome Father/Uncle/Teacher Harbinger to smaller reader is just a recipe for comic chaos. You have this high and mighty Fatuus, who with a single gaze can deep his subordinates into silence, yet now this same man is running around the Zapolyarny Palace, trying to catch you because you refuse to do your homework. You will either exhaust him to death, or he will exhaust you from running away and causing shenanigans.

One way or another it ends with both of you dozing off an armchair later that evening. The Harbinger holding you in his arms, wrapped up in a comfy blanket, while he rest his weary head on his knuckles, the fireplace crackling nearby. <3 ✧ As always, lovely suggestions, my friend! I will tag you if I manifest them into fully-fledged fics. Thank you, and hope you're doing well

[archaeren]

Hello!! I hope you're having a good day ^^ I came across your post about writing non-linearly on Notion and I'm excited to try it out because the advice resonated with me! Though, I'm really new to using the app and, if possible, need help with how to do this part: 'where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry.' ;v;

Hello! Thank you so much for messaging!!! Since that post about writing non-linearly (linked for context) blew up roughly ten thousand times as much as anything I've ever posted, I've been kind of meaning to make a followup post explaining more about how I use Notion for writing non-linearly, but, you know, ADHD, so I haven't done it yet. XD In the meantime, I'll post a couple screenshots of my current long fic with some explanations! I'd make this post shorter, but I'm unable to not be Chatty. XD (just ask my poor readers how long my author notes are...) (There is a phone app as well which syncs with the desktop/browser versions, but I work predominantly in the desktop app so that's what I'm gonna be showing)

(the table keeps going off the right side of the image but it's a bunch of unimportant stuff tbh) So this is more complicated than what you'll probably start with because I'm Normal and add a bunch of details that you might not need depending on what you're doing. For example, my fic switches POVs so I have a column for tracking that, and my fic follows a canon timeline so I have a column for dates so I can keep track of them, and I also made columns for things like if a scene had spoilers or certain content readers may want to avoid, which they can access in my spoiler and content guide for the fic. (As I said, I'm Normal.) I also do some complicated stuff using Status and estimated wordcount stuff to get an idea of how long I predict the content to be, but again, not necessary. Anyway, you don't need any of that. For the purposes of this explanation, we're just gonna look at the columns I have called Name, Order, and Status. (And one called Part, but we'll get into that later) Columns in Notion have different types, such as Text, Numbers, Select, Date, etc, so make sure to use the type that works best for the purpose of each column! For example, here I'm using Select for Character POVs, Number for Order and WC (wordcount), and Text for the In-Game Date. Okay let's get into it! Name is a column that comes in a Notion table by default, and you can't get rid of it (which drives me up the wall for some purposes but works totally fine for what we're doing here). As you can see on the scene I've labeled 'roll call', if you hover over a Name entry, a little button called 'Open' appears, which you click on to open the document that's inside the table. That's all default, you don't have to set anything up for it. Here's a screenshot of what it looks like when I click the one titled 'I will be anything for you' (I've scrolled down in the screenshot so you can see the text, but all the data fields also appear at the top of the page)

(This view is called 'side peek' meaning the document opens on one side and you can still see the table under it on the left, which is what mine defaults to. But you can set it to 'center peek' or 'full page' as well.) All my scenes have their own entry like this! Note that I've said scenes, not chapters. I decide the chapters later by combining the scenes in whatever combination feels right, which means I can often decide in advance where my chapter endings will be. This helps me consciously give most of my endings more impact than I was usually able to do when I tried to write linearly. So hopefully that gives you an idea of what I mean by writing inside the table and treating the table as a living outline. The 'Status' column is also pretty straightforward, and might require a little setup for whatever your needs are. This is another default column type Notion has which is similar to a Select but has a few more specialized features. This is how mine is set up:

(I don't actually use 'Done', idk why I left it there. Probably I should replace it with 'Posted' and use that instead of the checkmark on the far left? whatever, don't let anyone tell you I'm organized. XDD)

Pretty straightforward, it just lets me see easily what's complete and what still needs work. (You'll notice there's no status for editing, because like I mentioned in my other post, I don't ever sit down to consciously edit, I just let it happen as I reread) Obviously tailor this to your own needs! The Order column is sneakily important, because this is what makes it easy for me to keep the scenes organized. I set the Sort on the table to use the Order to keep the scene ordered chronologically. When I make the initial list of scenes I know the fic will have, I give all of them a whole number to put them in order of events. Then as I write and come up with new scene ideas, the new scenes get a number with a decimal point to put them in the spot they fit in the timeline. (you can't see it here, but some of them have a decimal three or four digits deep, lol). Technically you can drag them to the correct spot manually, but if you ever create another View in your table (you can see I have eight Views in this one, they're right under the title) it won't keep your sorting in the new View and you'll hate yourself when it jumbles all your scenes. XD (And if you get more comfortable with Notion, you probably will at some point desire to make more Views) The Part column isn't necessary, but I found that as the fic grew longer, I was naturally separating the scenes into different points along the timeline by changes in status quo, etc. (ex. "this is before they go overseas" "this is after they speak for the first time", stuff like that) in my mind. To make it easier to decide where to place new scenes in the timeline, I formalized this into Parts, which initially I named with short summaries of the current status quo, and later changed to actual titles because I decided it would be cool to actually use them in the fic itself. Since it's not in the screenshots above, here's what the dropdown for it looks like:

(I've blocked some of the titles out for spoiler reasons)

Basically I only mention the Parts thing because I found it was a useful organizational tool for me and I was naturally doing it in my head anyway. Anyway, I could keep talking about this for a really long time because I love Notion (don't get me started on how I use toggle blocks for hiding content I've edited out without deleting it) but that should be enough to get started and I should really, you know, not make this another insanely long post. XDD And if anybody is curious about how the final results look, the fic can be found here.

[mydear-corinthian]

Dirty Diana || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: After the war, you and Tommy were separated leaving you in London alone with no money at all. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader , Tommy Shelby x reader Warnings: SMUT +18, mentions of prostitution & misogynist, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk Notes: I saw this Dirty Diana edit of Tommy Shelby & Diana Mitford so why not do a fic about MJ's song?? I'm so happy that Dirty Diana is getting popular and getting the hype that it deserves !! This fic is terribly written and rushed :c Click here to see the MAIN MASTERLIST Click here to see the PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST Click here to see the CILLIAN MURPHY MASTERLIST

Tommy and you were together before the war. His family happily accepted you and eventually treat you as one.

Unfortunately, you two parted ways following the battle. While you were stuck in London trying to become a banker, he was back in his hometown.

As a woman, landing a career like that hasn't been normalized yet. Often, men claim that it was a "man's job" exclusively. You met all the standards perfectly, but in the end, you were not hired. You were left with nothing as a result. No family, no home, and no money.

That's when you started working as a prostitute, something you never thought you would do. It was your last option since you could no longer survive without money. Given that you were making far more money at the job, you cannot complain about it. Constantly receiving enormous sums of shillings in a single night.

You decided to change your name, Diana.

Every night you wait on the busy streets of London for customers. Bending over their vehicle, seducing them.

It wasn't easy and it will never be easy to be working in this line of work. You've been sleeping with young, old, single, married, or even widowed men for money.

It was the usual night. Waiting for new customers as you stood on the busy streets outside of a hotel. Your black dress perfectly traced your curves, a white shoulder fur covered your elbows.

You finally saw a car stopping in front of you. A man wearing a neat navy suit, a newsboy hat decorated his hair, a cigarette burning between his lips.

Due to his hat, you cannot fully see who he was, only his mouth. You walked seductively towards the man's car, bending over the window. "Sir, I have to go home 'cause I'm so tired you see..?" you ask, pretending to be exhausted. "I hate sleeping alone, why don't you take me?" He took a bill out of his pockets and showed it to you. "My place. The hotel." he plainly said.

Seeing the large amount of bill made your eyes widened. Never in your job had you encountered a man giving you this big amount of money for one night.

"Well, I'll see what I can do with that, sir," he exited the vehicle, walking towards the hotel as you followed him. The anonymous man was walking in front of you so you cannot see his face.

You couldn't shake the thought of Tommy, no matter how many men you slept with. You still have feelings for him. You was hoping he could find you and look for you. Your first love was and is him. He was everything to you. It's not that you two split up; rather, it was more that you stopped seeing one another, no goodbye's or hello's after the war. You believed that his 'breakup' was final. that he had already had enough of your relationship. While a part of you believes he is better off without you, the other half of you longs to visit him in Birmingham. That he's already forgotten you.

The both of you were already inside his luxurious hotel room. It wasn't really that tidy but it was manageable.

The anonymous man finally removed his hat, showing his full face at you. As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened and your heart sank.

"Tommy?" you shockingly asked.

"(Y/n)." he greeted plainly.

"How did you- How did you found me?"

He actually haven't moved on from you too. Tommy tried to marry someone for you to leave his mind but that didn't worked for him as well. He just doesn't feel the same feeling that he was with his current wife than you. He wants to relive that feeling and he is hoping that he will be with you again.

"I searched for you. I searched every spot in Birmingham and you weren't there. And so I found you here. In London," he said. "And I know about your job, Diana."

His deep and sultry voice always gets you. Having the sudden desire to take him, make you his, and just be with him.

"How about you stay with me, tonight?" he asked. 

"Oh Tommy, I'm all yours," you answered. Your lips meeting his, passionately tasting him. Tommy's hands roamed all around your small back, allowing the kiss to get deeper and deeper.

He suddenly stopped, pulling his face away. "My wife is at home tonight, she's probably worried tonight. I haven't told her I'm alright." he sighed, walking up to the telephone on the desk just beside the door. He rolled the numbers before speaking. 

Before he said something again, you heard a woman's voice on the telephone, screaming at him. Tommy's wife was mad.

Suddenly, you grabbed the telephone, hearing the voice of his wife. The speaker was on your ear, "He's not coming back, he's sleeping with me,"

You dropped the telephone harshly, smiling at him. "Are you not worried she'll leave you?" you asked, your fingers tapping his chest seductively. Tommy's lips found yours again. The kiss is turning harshly and messier. "It's alright, she was using me for money anyways," he said in between kisses. "And Polly didn't approved my relationship with her but we got married anyway,"

"God, I've been waiting for you," your hands found its way to his hair, crumpling it as you felt his tongue explore your mouth. You moaned in between kisses, eager for more. 

You pushed him into the king-sized bed's soft mattress. You unbutton your wrinkled shirt while leaving your bra on as you crawl from his legs to his hips. He showed how hard he was by the way his pants were rising. Tommy's breath hitched, his skin heats up.

"Where have you been, my darling?" he breathly asked, cupping your cheeks once again to examine your face, processing what is happening right now. You're back. You're here. 

Slowly, your hips rocked on his boner, the friction making your eyes roll. Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the sensation that's happening. "I've missed you, Tom," 

You continued to stroke the hard swell beneath his pants with a look of enticing eagerness, every stroke a whispered promise of something more. You carefully and slowly removed his belt buckle, the metal clasp giving way to your touch with a gentle click. With careful care, your fingertips traced the fabric of his pants, revealing the shapes of his buried need as you undid each button. Gentle yet focused.

A rush of electricity shot through Tommy as her hands discovered his shaft, igniting every nerve ending with a burning passion. You moved his cock up and down with such delicate strokes; it was a rhythmic dance that left him panting, his chest rising and falling in time with your motions.

"Oh god, you're so good at this," he praised. 

Your touch was like a kiss from heaven; it sent electric sparks of need shooting through him, burning an inferno of desire. His breath caught in his throat with every stroke, the melody of pleasure surrounding him so intensely that he was unable to resist, his moans echoing at the limits of his arousal.

He finally came, his white seed spurted all over the mattress and your hands, staining them You chuckled. 

Suddenly, Tommy switched positions, he's now on top of you. "You think we're done?" he asked, his fingers touched your clit, sending shivers all around your body due to the sudden touch. 

"Oh god!" you moaned. 

His fingertips tracing passionate patterns over the fabric that covered your aching core, your back arched in ecstasy as he increased his speed driven by an early desire. Your body trembled with anticipation with every round move, a burning desire that cried out to be let out. Time appeared to stop still as his touch danced over you in the heat of passion, each movement an ode to the unbearable depths of his desire.

You moaned out loud, feeling your orgasm coming. "Tom - I'm gonna .. oh god!"

His movements stopped unexpectedly, leaving you on the verge of euphoria and desperate for release. A line appeared on your forehead as a wave of opposing emotions passed over you, your need pounding against the limits his seductive pause forced.

"Ah, not yet," his husky voiced rang to your ears.

Tommy removed your underwear, showing how wet you were from him fingering you. He aligned his shaft in front of your cunt before you fully took him, making you moan. 

You felt full just from his cock. His warm cock filled you, making him push in even further. Your eyes closed, your head rolling back. 

"So fucking tight," he exhaled deeply. His rough hands gripped your hips making him pound in to you harshly, hitting your sensitive spots all over and over. 

"No one ever pleasured you this good huh?" 

Sweat was streaming down his strained brow, reflecting the fever that was pumping through his body. The air in his hotel room pumped with the sound of your lewd moans and his sultry groans, echoes swirling passionately together and filling the room with a euphoric atmosphere.

His trusts became faster and harsher. His and your skin slapped together, earning a loud sound. 

You felt your orgasm coming up again making you moan louder, seeing nothing but starts and feel like you've been drugged by the most pleasurable medicine there is out there. You clenched on his cock, indicating that you were close. 

"Tommy, I'm gonna cum," 

"Yeah? Cum then, love," he demanded.

You both reached the your high of ecstasy with a few last, powerful thrusts, your bodies combining in a melody of pleasure. During that moment of explosive release, when your senses were overwhelmed by a rush of sensations, you felt him spill out his essence into you, filling you to the overflowing limit with his ecstatic warmth. Every muscle clenched with fine pleasure as your climax came over you in waves of joy, your combined passion setting off an inferno of desire that swallowed you both completely.

Tommy pulled out before dropping his body beside you, panting hard. 

"Come back to me," he whispered. 

"Oh Tommy. I never left you."

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Paid Internship (Part 2)(Prison AU)

Author's Note: This is a Prison AU that the viewers of my blog seem to be pretty fond of. The main focuses for the romance parts will differ depending on the part. The reader is gender neutral and uses She/He stuff, but sometimes depending on what's going on I'll use stuff like Tits. Also, Sully will be in the fic, but I won't use his name. Pay attention to how Liu talks.

Author's Note 2: If you wanna be tagged for part three, leave a comment, or reblog.

Series Summary: Welcome to your paid internship at Roosevelt Federal Prison. After being seen for your potential and skills by your instructor at the Academy, he decided to give you opportunity of working in the US' most dangerous prison despite the disapproval and rejection from the higher ups. However, due to miscommunication and faulty paperwork, you're gonna up working with some of America's most danger serial killers for the semester.

Warnings: Implied Non-con, Murder, Lying, Deception, Descriptions of crimes, Perversion, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Sadism, Violence, Implied Nudity, Mocking, Humilation, Threats, Mood Swings, PTSD, Alcohol, Mental Illness, Dealings, Attempted Murder, Cursing, Sleep Deprived Workers, Stress, Agression, and More. This AU is not for the faint of heart.

Links: {Part 1} {Masterlist} {Series Concept}

"Oh god, what would Gibbons think of me if he saw me doing this," You said, rubbing you eyes as you stood infront of the door separating you from the inmates.

Liu didn't even tell you what Jeff stole from him, for all you know this could be some sick set up to get you hurt. However, you were slowly growing desperate. Toby's implication that Abbie Grace was still alive was filling you up with concern, she could be alive and out there, terrified, alone, probably hurt. Liu promised to tell you what he knew about Abbie if you gave him whatever Jeff stole.

Getting into solitary wasn't going to be easy. When you were first brought in, you saw a large line of men running into the ward. Based on this, your best assumption was that mostly security personnel were allowed in the ward, and if officers were let in, it was most likely with some kind of clearance. (A clearance you didn't have.)

"Ok Y/N, think, think. What are the pros of doing this... you get info from Liu, but he's already on your roster, meaning you'll be interviewing him some time down the road. But, he seems stubborn, so he won't tell me anything easily. You get to explore solitary! But, there's an extremely high risk that you'll get caught, expelled from the academy, fired from your internship, and most likely get charges placed against you."

You almost took back the deal. Almost.

"But if you don't fuck up, if you do everything right, if you solve this case, you'll be legend. You'll...get praise from Gibbons, from mom, from...," You paused, looking up with a shine in your eyes. "From...dad. I'm doing this."

Walking away from the inmates quarters, you made your way back to the little office Mandel assigned you. Closing the door as you entered, you looked at the little map posted up against the wall, looking for any security storage rooms.

Your plan may seem crazy, but it could work. Your plan was to somehow sneak into a security room, put on a uniform, grab some gear, find a keycard, and get into solitary. You'd be lucky if you even found the security room. The map was hard to understand, nothing was written in words, instead they used symbols as labels for rooms. You assumed that the orange coat for a symbol for some kind of inmate section.

"What would a symbol for the security room look like?" You asked yourself as you looked at the map.

Suddenly, you flinched at the sound of knocking coming from your door.

"INTERN! YOU IN THERE?" A masculine voice yelled from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the door. You couldn't but admit that you were a little on edge. What if they caught you sneaking into the inmate quarters through the cameras (But now do you think about it, where there any cameras to begin with?). That idea sent you into a panic, but you did your best to keep a neutral composure.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a large man. If you had the guess, he was probably was around 6'3, 6'4. You didn't take note of his appearance however, because you were more distracted by the large gun in his hand, and the large word "SECURITY" written on his chest.

"Um, can I help you?"

"Do you have a TV in here? We're checking all offices and rooms."

"...Yeah, why you ask?"

Without saying another word, the man pushed you to the side and grabbed the large TV from the corner.

"Hey! Dude! I need that," You stated, Marching towards the man as he lifted up the TV.

"Don't know if you got the news, intern, but any technology is strictly forbidden on prison grounds."

"...A prison...with no tech? How the hell is this legal, hell, how is this safe?"

The guard didn't say another word, walking off with the TV as you chased after him.

"If it's not allowed, why did I get it in the first place, hm?"

"From some dumbass I bet. Now, leave me alone; I have more bullshit I gotta deal with for the night."

Giving up on trying to get information from the security guard, you watched as he walked off into the distance. But, what he failed to notice was the fact that you were able to steal his keycard from his pocket. One of you cousins was a notorious thief back where you grew up, and he taught you a thing or two about pickpocketing.

"Never knew that dumbass' methods would work," You joked to yourself before quickly making your way to your office.

Opening the door, you took one last look at the map. After a few seconds of quick skimming, you saw the security room wasn't too far from the inmates quarters. It was a few doors down from the entrance to solitary, a pretty smart and convenient spot to hold the room.

Doing a quick check of your surroundings, you locked the door to your office and casually made your way to the security desk. You learned from when you snuck into the inmates' quarters. Even though you were an intern, looking scared and nervous drew attention, making you look suspicious, but if you kept a casual and calm expression, no one would suspect a thing!

"Just stay calm. Stay. Calm," You mumbled to yourself as you used the stolen keycard to open the door leading to the office area you saw when you first walked into the pasta section of the prison.

Taking a left, you did another skim of your surroundings before opening the security door and quietly making your way in. However, the first thing you were met with was the strong smell of sweat and iron.

"Shit...it smells like a high school locker room," You groaned as you pinched your nose. "Jesus...never heard of deodorant."

The security room was set up like a locker room. A few random uniforms were hanged against the wall with various numbers indicating their sizes placed above them. Some were hanged neatly, while others looked like they were placed in a rush. On the opposite side of the room, locked up in a glass container, where various guns, cuffs, shields, and batons. Even though the weapons were placed behind, hopefully, bullet proof glass, you couldn't help but feel like the glass wasn't going to prevent anything from being stolen. One thing you didn't notice at first was how dim the lighting in the room was. It wasn't so dark you couldn't see, but it was dark enough for some things to be barley noticeable. The last thing you cared enough to note was on the wall directly infront of you, a few lockers had their locks still open, meaning either someone was going to be back soon to get something, or someone forgot to close it, either way, you didn't want to stay long enough to find out.

Grabbing the uniform that looked like it would fit you best, you quickly changed into the security uniform. Looking at yourself in the mirror, the uniform was practically riot gear. Using the keycard to open the glass, you grabbed one of the guns from off the wall.

Walking out of the room, you took a deep breath before quickly making your way to solitary.

Opening the door, you instantly felt a shift in the atmosphere. Outside of solitary, there was always some kind of noise. May it be the sound of people walking, the noise the lights made, or just random white noise, there was always something. But here, here it was dead quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For some reason, you felt terrified to even make a single noise, to take a single step, hell, to even take a single breath. You felt regret hit you like a bus, you could feel your body begging you to go back, to take off the uniform, to figure out Abby'a case without Liu's advice, to do anything but fucking continue in solitary, but the idea of getting praise from Gibbons for solving such a hard cause, the idea of making your parents proud, the idea to prove to everyone at the Academy that you were capable of handling this internship blinded you from your body's judgment. So, as if your body went on autopilot, you started your journey down the halls.

The sound of the heavy boots of the uniform echoed throughout the hallway. Solitary was very bright and clean, walls perfectly white, and the lights lacked the ugly yellow tint the other parts of the prison had. It was such a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the prison. Not only that, but you haven't seen a single prisoner yet. All the rooms you walked past were either empty or locked, none of them had a single sign of life in there. So, it left you wondering, was anyone even supervising the prisoners? None of the rooms were labeled, none of them. No signs telling you were to go, nothing. So, if someone found you wondering around like a duckling without its mother, you'd be caught red handed.

"Hey! You!"

Flinching at the loud and sudden noise, you slowly turned around as you saw a woman dressed as a nurse power walking towards you.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to dealing with Jeffery."

"Jeffery?"

"Yes! Ever since he's came back from his interview with that intern he's been out of control. He bit a chunk out of Elisa's arm when she tried to give him his medication. And his behavior starting to get...Ben relied up, and we can't have that! I refuse to deal with that fucking freak again."

"Oh shit... Where's Jeffery right now?"

"In his room left of here, just follow the noise."

"Ok."

"Thanks. Now I have to deal with a few injured prisoners in the normal section, have Goosemen radio me if things get bad."

As the nurse walked off, or more so ran off, you quickly took a left and followed the faint noise of screams and laughter.

What you saw made a chill go down your spine.

Jeff was running around his room with three security personnel chasing him as a nurse yelled for Jeff to calm down. Unlike earlier, Jeff's mouth was bleeding, his shirt tied around his waist as he ran around, revealing the fresh scratches all around his arm and chest, and for a quick second, you saw the flash of something shiny on his back.

"Jeffery! Please sit down and take you medicine! Afterwards you'll be left alone for the night, ok!?" The nurse yelled as she waved a bottle a pill in the air. "We've been at this for hours...tasers don't work, pepper spray don't work, and we can't shoot him nor use fear..."

"Is this common?" You asked, catching the nurse's attention.

"When he first got here it was, but he hasn't acted like this in years. Even when he didn't take his medicine, he wouldn't act like this."

"Maybe he's getting bored," A guard commented, causing the nurse to nod her head in consideration.

"Maybe, or maybe it was that intern. I don't know what happened when they spoke, but maybe they said something to cause him to act like this," The nurse said, a look of annoyance written on her face.

The nurse's statement made your blood run cold. After all the events that happened in the past few hours, you were starting to accept the fact you weren't the most liked by the staff.

"What did I even do?" You thought, a look of hurt and confusion in your eyes. "They don't even know what I look like!"

"I'm going to talk to Mandel about getting them off this case, or even out of this section in general. I don't know what Gibbons sees in them, but things where running as smoothly as they can run until they showed up, and now all the prisoners are acting up."

"Fresh meat," The guard added, causing the nurse to chuckle.

"Fresh meat in deed, sharks they are."

"Hey, it's their first day, give the kid some slack. Once the prisoners get used to their presence they'll simmer down," You said, shifting your gaze over to the various cells in the hallway.

"I hope you're right."

As you looked at the various cells, one cell in particular stood out. It was at the very end of the hallway, the light right above it flickering rapidly. Not only was it locked with a different kind of door, instead having the ones with a simple hole with a few metal bars to peek through and a small hole to slide food in, the entire thing was closed, no one could peek in or out. It was also kept shut with a wheel, and alongside the wheel was a bunch of chains, each tie holding a different lock. Whatever the hell was in there, nobody wanted it getting out.

Suddenly, the sound of a large thump drew your attention away from the door. Lying down on the floor, Jeff was being pinned down by the three guards that were chasing him previously.

"Ugh...I'm tired," Jeff said as he let out a yawn.

Taking out the knife from the back of Jeff's waistband, one of the guards slide it over to the guard you were talking to prior, who then placed it in a zip lock bag.

"OK Jeff, just take these and we'll be done," The nurse said softly, trying her best to hide her agitation.

Based on the nurse's appearance, she was exhausted, not only physically, but mentally as well. Her eyes had dark purple bags, her hair was a mess, and her uniform as practically in shambles.

"Fine," Jeff mumbled before swallowing the two pills.

"Finally," The nurse said under her breath. "OK boys, get out."

As everyone cleared out the room, you made sure to be the very last person to leave. Once everyone turned the corner, you quickly made your way back to Jeff's cell. Peeking through the small section of bars, you watched as Jeff spat out the pills he just "swallowed."

"Airheaded bitch," Jeff joked as he let out a chuckle.

"Jeff," You whisper-yelled, causing Jeff to turn his head.

"Awww, you missed me," Jeff teased before making his ways to the bars.

"No. You got something of Liu's, give it."

"Took him long enough."

"Huh?"

"I took that idiot's scarf a week ago and now he wants it back? Is he slow?"

Walking over to his bed, Jeff lifted up the mattress and pulled out a black and grey scarf.

"Here, and tell him that he owes me big time," Jeff said before hitting the door two times, causing the sound to echo throughout the halls.

"Ok."

As you walked off, you heard Jeff burst into laughter.

"How crazy is he?" You thought.

Howver, you froze in your tracks at the sound of chains hitting the floor. Turning around ever so slowly, you saw a pile of chains and locks sitting infront of the door at the end of the hall.

You knew not to go knew it, your brain was sending you all the alarms.

"Leave it be," "Go back," "It has nothing to do with you."

Those words rung in your head over and over again, but your body started to move on its own. It was as if the door had a magnetic field to it that caused you to get closer and closer, your mind was begging for you to go back, but your body was consumed with curiosity.

Every day you wish you never took a step near that fucking door.

Picking up the chains, you examined the material. Pretty standard chains, amazing quality, but still standard.

As you looked up at the door, you felt your mind begin to fog up. As if you were a puppet on strings, your hands reached towards the wheel, and before you could process what was happening, the door was already open.

There was a single light bulb in the room, dangling from the ceiling. As the light bulb flashed, you could make out the figure of someone tied to a chair. However, the moment your body took a step into the room, closing the door behind you, the lights stilled, and you could control your body once more.

"What...?" You said, turning behind you.

Sitting in the chair was a man, couldn't be older than 25. His head was facing the floor, his blonde hair hiding his features, but it couldn't hide his pointed ears. Heavy chains were keeping him bound to the chair. There was no bed, no sink, no toilet, no trays, nothing. The room was completely bare, the only things taking up space was you, the chair, and him.

As if he could sense your fear, the man slowly lifted his head, his head remaining tilted to side as he looked at you. His bright green eyes bored into your soul. The chill that went down your spine was indescribable. And that smile. It was something you could never forget. The dilated pupils, his wide, sinister smile, and the crazed look on his face. It still gives you nightmares.

"What...are you."

You didn't even think about your words. Whoever he was, he wasn't human.

CRACK!

You flinched as the sound of chains hit the floor once more. He broke off his chains.

Gibbons never trained you for a situation like this, saying that they would teach you once you got a job in a prison. So, all you could do was stare, pushing yourself as far back against the wall as you could.

As he made his way towards you, you felt your life flash before your eyes. The only thing you could think about was never being able to show your parents your certificate from the academy, how they'd never see you walk across the stage, and the sight of them seeing you body in a casket.

As he stared down at you, all you could do was cry. But then, all you heard was...

Laughter?

Looking up, all you saw was him throwing his head back in laughter, clapping his hands as he did.

"YOU SHOULD SEE YOUR FACE!" The man yelled as he sat down in front of you, holding his stomach.

All fear you had was traded with confusion.

"...What?"

"You're, you're that intern, right?"

"Uh, no?"

"Liar," The man said before booking your nose. "You're hot for an intern."

"..."

Standing up, the man reached his hand out towards you. "Name's Ben."

You swore you had heard that name before, but you couldn't place your hands on where.

Taking his hand, Ben pulled you up with a suprising amount of strength. Due to the how hard he pulled you, you ended up stumbling into his arms, causing his to wrap his arms around your waist.

You knew better than to think this, but you couldn't ignore how attractive, or more so how cute he was. Despite being in prison, his hair was relatively neat, and his smile and freckles were adorable.

If only you knew...

"I, uh... I didn't mean to come in here."

"I know!"

"...How?"

"You got a phone in your, left, no, right back pocket, along with a keycard that you stole," Ben said before leaning in, a teasing but flirtous look in his eyes, "Pretty illegal Little Miss/Mr. Intern."

Oh my god you could die right now. You were never one to fall so easily for someone's advances, but the way he spoke, the look in his eyes, and the way his arms wrapped around your waist made you melt.

"Can I see your phone?"

"O-Ok."

You didn't even think twice.

What was he doing to you? You were always reasonable, you rarely allowed yourself to fall into such emotions.

It didn't matter how he made you feel or react, he's a criminal, and if his room was this this locked up, that meant he was dangerous from the rest. Despite how fogged up your mind was, that was the one thing that you could think straightly about.

While you were distracted by your conflicting emotions, Ben was quickly slipped your phone into the pockets of his pants.

"Why don't we take this off," Ben said before pulling the helmet off your head.

Now that he had a good look at your face, Ben could feel his smile only growing wider. Thoughts raced through his head as he looked at you.

Disgusting.

Suddenly, he kissed you. You wanted to push him away, tell him that you couldn't put this opportunity at risk, but you just couldn't. Instead, you leaned into it, your body moving on its own.

"No, no we can't...I can't lose this," You said as you pulled away from the kiss.

"No one's going go find out " Ben responded, pulling you closer. "No one comes in here anyways."

You shouldn't believe his words, he's a criminal, you know better. Don't let every Gibbons taught you be all for nothing.

"...ok."

As Ben kissed you again, much rougher this time, you felt your mind go blank. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, his hands taking off the guard uniform, your hands made their way under his shirt.

Stop. Stop now. Go back. Leave.

The two of you then sunk to the floor, you straddling his hips as he gripped your hair.

As his hands pulled down your pants, you felt as if none of this mattered. The internship you worked months to get. It just, didn't matter anymore. Your mind was blank.

The room then went black, the only thing you could see was his eyes. All you could feel was his hands roaming your body touching every last bit of you. All you could remember was you straddling his lap, one of his hands holding your arms back as his other gripped your hair, forcing you into a kiss. You felt everything. And it all felt sooooo...painfully good.

"M-Mh fuck baby~ I ain't ever gonna stop..."

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

You never hated yourself more.

The entire event was a blur. Your mind and body weren't even on the same page, hell, they weren't even reading the same book. You didn't even feel like yourself during the whole endevour, it felt as if someone was wearing your skin, acting as you while you watched from the outside.

You had the power to stop it, you were an officer afterall. But the look he gave you, the touches, the words of reassurance, it was all intoxicating and so painfully mind numbing.

Did you even want it? You didn't even know. Moments before, when you felt in control of yourself, all you could feel was fear. He wasn't safe, he wanted to hurt you, but why didn't he? You were right there.

You didn't want to see him again, not at all. He was fucking with your head. You can't trust him, but anytime he's around it's as if all logic and sense leaves your body. You were completely at his will and he barely had to try.

But, something about him made him addicting. The way he's making you feel isn't normal, the way you so blindly opened the door wasn't normal, the patchy memories weren't normal. HE WASN'T NORMAL. He's doing this to you, but how?

"Y/N!"

Shooting up, you were no longer in solitary, but instead you were back in your office. Liu's scarf was placed neatly on you lap, and on your desk was you phone.

Standing at the desk was a very tired, but concerned Mandel.

"Ma'am?"

"I came in to check on you two hours ago, but you weren't here. Came back an hour ago, still not here. Came back five minutes ago, still not here. But when I come back now, FAST ASLEEP. Where. Were. You."

"...I was...I... I was trying to get my TV back from a guard..."

"One, for two hours? And two, who gave you one to begin with?"

"Um...Yeah, and I don't know..." "...Ugh...Wait, why the hell do you have a phone?" "Why wouldn't I?"

"Our prison doesn't allow tech due to a certain inmate."

"Why?" You asked, your blood going cold.

"He's able to control any kind of technology in a twenty-five mile radius. He's able to travel from tech to tech, he's one of our nonhuman inmates."

"What is he?"

Mandel looked around in the hallway before fully entering the room.

"We're not allowed to talk about him...but I'll tell you," Mandel said before taking a seat in front of you. "I won't say names, but he's a ghost. He was sacraficed by a cult, and came back as a vengeful spirt. He died relatively young based off what he told us, but he seems to be aging even as ghost. The longer we keep him, the harder it is to keep him under control. Not only that, but he's getting stronger too."

"...Will I be interacting with him at all?"

"What?! No! Are you crazy? You may be handling the Abbie Grace case, but he is far too dangerous for you. He's already on death row, Y/N, have you noticed that no one else is despite their crimes? I want you to focus on this case and nothing else. I don't want you interacting with inmates outside of the ones I assign you," Mandel said before leaning into your face, her eyes glaring into yours. "And I'll know if you do."

"...Y-Yes ma'am."

Picking up a file on the table, Mandel skimmed through the folder before speaking to you. "How did Toby's interview go?"

"Ma'am, have any of you guys thought of the possibility that Abbie still might be alive?"

Mandel's posture immediately straightened as she looked up at you, the atmosphere of the room changing into a more serious tone. Lowering the file, Mandel spoke, "What happened?"

"Getting Tobias to talk was a challenge. He kept teasing and refused to corporate. I asked him a few questions just to get a rough idea on his personality and patterns, just to get to know him better," You replied, sitting up straight as you played with the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. "When I bought up Jeff he finally started talking. Gibbons taught me to look into the way someone spoke, and when Tobias was talking about Abbie, he was talking about her in the present tense. When I asked him if she was dead, he said that he never said she wasn't."

Mandel's eyes widened in shock after you spoke. You neve saw Mandel so expressive due to her face being caught in constant exhaustion. "Never... We never found her body so we assumed she was dead. But, I'm not sure if we can take his word for it."

"How so?"

"He may not look like it, but Toby is a pretty good liar, anything he says we take with a grain of salt."

"Who else if involved in the case?"

"Jeff, Toby, and this Boss character from what we know."

"What if we get someone besides Toby to tell us if she's dead or not?"

"Hm... Jeff might, but his awnsers really depends on his mood."

"What about this Boss guy?"

"Here's the thing, we don't know who he is."

"What? What do you mean?"

"We've caught every pasta we know of, except for the guy they call Boss. But, there's also the possibility that the Boss isn't just one guy. Based off what we know about the proxies, one of their bosses is a man known as Slenderman, but we don't even know if he's real. He's only a legend, there's no picture of him, nor has he committed any acts himself. But, when Timothy and Brian first got here, they heavily implied that there way another boss. They didn't say any names, but that's what they implied. We also don't know if they're all working for the same boss. When Jeff calls someone the Boss, he can be talking about a completely different person than Toby," Mandel stated before hiding her face in her hands. "This case in so confusing..."

"Tell me about it," You said before looking up at Mandel. "So, what should we do?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, if Toby's right, this changes how we'll go about the case. It wouldn't be a murder case anymore but instead a missing person's."

"How we'll go about it isn't much of your concern. As you have interviews with the suspects, we're also having interviews with them as well, just to compare and contrast statements and behaviors. Keep in mind, you're still in training, and this is an internship afterall. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I knowww, but this is such an exciting experience! I've been trusted to work with the worst criminals in the country, it's truly an honor."

"It's an honor til your working 22 hour shifts," Mandel stated bluntly before opening a redbull that she pulled out of her pockets. "I'm going to leave you to your devices."

"Is their anything you want me to do in particular?"

"Hmmm... Ask Chief Salloum for some evidence we collected on Abbie's case, I want you to look into and see if there's one, any clues on where she can be if she's still alive, and two, just look for anything you think is important. In the mean time, I'll try to get you an interview with Jeffery by the end of the week."

"OK Ma'am. Also, um, where can I find Chief Salloum?'

"Salloum is next to Banklin's Office. Salloum is leading the investigation while Banklin is handling the officers, he might have some information, but I'm not entirely sure," Mandel stated as she opened the door, "Good luck, Kiddo."

As the door closes after Mandel, you didn't even notice how long you were holding your breath for. What Mandel said about this ghost inmate really sent your mind into a frenzy. Whoever he was, they clearly wanted to keep him a secret.

"OK. Should I meet up with Liu or Salloum?" You asked yourself as you looked down at Liu's scarf.

After interacting wuth the Woods brothers, you couldn't help but notice how different they were from each other. Jeff was loud, perverted, sadistic, playful, and emotional, while Liu was more quiet and reserved, but his behavior was flipping. When you first met Liu, he was playful and painfully teasing, but when you met with him again at the cells, he was quiet and acted like he didn't want to speak with you at all. To be honest, you didn't know what was scarier, Jeff's weird unapologetic personality, or Liu's bipolar one.

"Liu."

Standing up from your desk, you wasted no time as you made your way back to the inmate quarters.

Checking the time in your phone, you noticed that it was 2AM. When you got here with Gibbons, it was around 6 or 7, and based on the waiver and contract Gibbons had you sign, you wouldn't be let out til 7AM.

As you walked towards the door of the quarters, you flinched at the sound of banging on the glass. Turning your head, you felt yourself ease up as you made eye contact with a pair of dark green eyes.

Raising up the scarf, you could feel Liu smile from beyond the glass. Liu's smile was different from everyone else's, it was soft, it was genuine.

Entering the quarters, Liu was waiting for you on the other side. Handing him the scarf, he stared at it for a bit before putting it on.

"Fucking asshole."

"Sorry it took so long, stuff came up."

Liu only glanced at you before rolling his eyes.

"This isn't even all of it," Liu said bluntly.

"What? This is all Jeff gave me. What else does he have"

"My gun."

"...oh... So uh, deals off?"

Liu didn't say another word as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you towards a cell.

"...ugh," A voice from the top bunk said.

Looking up, all you saw was the top half of Toby's body dangling from the top bunk.

"Are you drunk?" Liu asked honestly, poking at the man's face.

"Maybeeeee," Toby said before reaching out to Liu, making kissing noises as he did.

"Go to bed, Tobias," Liu said, pushing Toby's body back onto his bed. "Got any more?"

"Under the desk," Toby said as he face planted into his pillow.

Picking up the bottle, Liu sat down on the bed as he opened it. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything you know."

"Pretty vague to be honest."

"Alright then... What did you do to Abbie?"

"Even more vague."

"How?!"

"Cause I said so," Liu said before taking a sip of his alcohol, hiding his amusement as Toby giggled.

"He ain't telling you shit!" Toby yelled before bursting out into laughter.

"Shut up, Ticci," Liu said.

"Don't call me that," Toby slurred.

"Whatever."

"Enough! I don't have time for this. Where is Abbie?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know."

"I wasn't the last one to have her."

"Last one?! How many people was she with?"

"Too vague."

This man was going to be the death of you.

Groaning into your hands, you thought about your most important question.

"Is he awake?" You asked, pointing to Toby.

Peeking over the bunk, Toby was sound asleep, snoring into his pillow as he did.

"No."

"...Is Abbie Grace alive?"

That was the first time you saw a reaction from Liu. The best you could describe his face was stumped.

"Why you ask?"

"Just awnser the question."

Liu's face went back to his numb expression before glancing upwards.

Without saying another word, Liu nodded his head. That was all the conformation you needed.

"Where is she, Liu."

"I don't know, and this isn't an interview, so I have no obligation to anwser."

"How would you feel if I told the head of this side that you have a gun in your possession?"

"One, you don't even know who that is, two, I don't have it, Jeff does, and three, how would you feel if I told Mandel that not only did you sneak into here, did a favor for a prisoner, but you also slept with one as well?" Liu said, leaning in so close to your face that your noses were just barely touching. "That's pretty punishable."

You felt your blood run cold, and he could see it on your face.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Liu said before pushing himself against the wall. "Don't talk all big when your small, sweetie."

"How did you know..."

"Know what?"

"W-What you just said."

"I didn't say anything."

Both of you knew what he said; you could see the amusement in his eyes.

"Ooooo, what'll happen if Banklin finds out that the intern slept with dear old Benjamin...Intership go bye bye," Liu joked, waving his hand before laughing. "Don't worry, I won't tell if you don't. Secret safe."

You never thought you'd be blackmailed by a prisoner, but today was already full of surprises.

"Now, is that all, princess/princie?"

"...Yeah."

"Don't be so sad," Liu said before grabbing your face with his hands, his touch being painfully soft. "You're the only one."

You felt sick to your stomach.

Standing up as fast as you could, you quickly made your way out of the room; Liu's giggles echoing throughout the halls.

You were so dumb.

You were supposed to logical, practical, and you normally were, but ever since you stepped into to this hell hole it was as if a switch was flipped in your head. You would never be making these many mistakes. Gibbons would kill you if he found out, but you just wanted to make him proud, he's worked his ass off to get you here, you didn't want to waste it.

"What's wrong with me?"

"OW!"

You were so caught up in your train of thought that you failed to notice the man in front of you.

"Oh I, I'm sorry. Let me help you," You said, quickly bending down to help the man pick up his files.

Pushing up his glasses, the man revealed a soft smile.

"No no, it's ok. You're the intern, correct?"

"Um, yes!"

"What's your name, kiddo?" The man asked as he started to walk towards the offices.

"Y/N L/N, sir."

"Call me Salloum. I'm one of the leaders of the case we're having you look into. How is that going?"

"It's been a Rollercoaster to say the least."

Salloum pulled a key out of his pocket as he opened the door to his office. "Hm... How so?"

"I thought I had the case figured out. But, when I was interviewing Tobias he said something interesting. "

Sitting down at his desk, Salloum pulled out a small notebook as he leaned back into his chair, placing his feet on desk in the process. His tired, empty eyes stared into your young, stressed ones as he looked at you and his notebook. "I'm listening."

"He implied that Abbie Grace is still alive."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"He implied-"

"No I know I know! It's just. Fuck! How could we miss that, how could we overlook that? How could I overlook that?"

"Um, Salloum..."

"Not now kid, just. Ugh. Thank you for bring this to my attention, but I need you to leave now. There's a lot of stuff I need to get done."

"Yes, yes, of course, of course."

Once you got back to your office, all you did was sit down and think. It was all so overwhelming.

However, all you could feel were hands roaming all of your body as you zoned out entirely. Faded whispered slowly growing louder and louder as your body went limp.

You don't even know.

Such a good girl/boy you are.

You're mine now...

My perfect little whore.

You're so pathetic.

Stupid.

Dumbass.

Useless.

Useless..

Useless...

USELESS!

What did he do to you. It wasn't natural. You weren't in control. You were a puppet. He controlled you. But why? Why you? For what reason? Why does he have your phone? Should you tell Mandel? Why are you crying? Why are you shaking? Why is the world spinning?

BEN. The most dangerous inmate in the entire prison. His power: technological manipulation.

You were so stupid. Did you really forget, or did his control fog your mind? But if he did control you, how?

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to go home for the night. Now. You needed to leave now. He couldn’t reach you if you left, right? He couldn't touch you again, he couldn’t control you again, he can't hurt you again if you leave. You'll come back tomorrow with a fresh mind and be ready for work. Yes. Yes. Just, leave.

"Miss," You said as you walked into Mandel's office.

"Yes?" Mandel responded, not looking up from her paperwork.

"I need to go home."

"What? Now? Your shift isn't even..."

As Mandel looked up at you, her words froze. You looked tired. Traumatized. Souless. You looked done.

"Kid what happen?" Mandel asked, standing up as she made your way towards you.

"I need to go home for the night."

"Look at me kid, what happened."

"...home... I want to go home," You stuttered out as you burst out into tears. "I'll be back tomorrow I promise but I need to go home."

Mandel just stared at you before nodding in approval. She got you an Uber and you were able to get a ride back to your dormitory at the Academy.

"Hey! You're back early, how'd it go?" Your roommate asked as you walked in.

However, you just walked past them, closing the door to your room as you plopped down onto your bed.

You were exhausted to say the least. You didn't even notice you fell asleep. But, for some reason you woke up in the middle of the night. You were still kind of sleepy so you weren't fully aware of your surroundings, but after some complicating of whether or not you should get out of bed, you slowly became aware to the sound of a TV.

Looking at your clock you saw that it was 4:45 AM.

"Lillian's never up this late," You grumbled as you stood up.

Your position on the bed was kind of awkward. Your upper body was laying on the bed while your legs dangled onto the floor.

"Lillian, can you turn it down please?" You asked as you rubbed your eyes, standing infront of your door as you faced the TV.

But, much to your suprise, no one was there. The TV was the only source of light in the entire room, and playing on it was just static.

"...I'm too tired for this," You mumbled before grabbing the remote.

But, the TV wouldn't turn off. No matter how many times you slammed down on the button the static would just continue.

"Are the batteries dead or something?" You asked yourself as you examined the remote.

In the back of your head you knew something was wrong. But, all you wanted was to get a normal night's rest and in the morning you could go back to work like nothing happened.

In what little time you were at the prison for you were able to deduce one thing. That place was full of secrets. Secrets that everyone knew but were never brave enough to discuss. Everyone you interacted with just held this vibe of uncertainty, anxiety, fear. It was like everyone knew that this place wasn't secure, and it didn't look like it either. What kind of prison doesn't have cameras? Or evenbetter, what kind of prison holds some of Americas most dangerous serial killers all in the same prison, in the block, knowing damn well that all of them are acquainted with one another.

If you were any other intern you would've just quit the moment this happened, but you were just any other intern. There was a reason on why there were here, a deeper reason. A reason that surpassed even government control. Maybe you were better off being a detective. Maybe you wouldn't be where you are now.

Rotting away. With Mom and Pa staring at you from the other side.

I should've quit.

"Nope, nothing wrong with the remote," You said before setting it back down. "Imma just put my headphones in."

But, as you turned around, you felt your blood run cold as you heard an all too familiar voice come from the TV.

"Baby~"

That glitchy, raunchy, mocking voice. You didn't dare turn around.

"Awwww, don't be scared."

Footsteps.

How? How the hell did he get here? How did he escape without anyone noticing?

Hands....hands. You felt his arms wrap around your waist as you leaned onto you. It felt as if he was towering over you.

"I ain't gonna hurt you," Ben said before placing something in your hand. "Just wanted to return this."

Your phone. A part of you just wanted to throw it out of your dorm window, something about it just didn't feel right, but, you stopped yourself. You didn't have the money to just buy a new one, and this was the only way you can communicate with your parents.

"How'd you get out...?" You asked.

"Oh, I'm not here. You see, I can travel a little bit of my soul to anywhere I want within my technological reach. I'm like a little hallucination while my body remains in my cell. I could come here right now if you want."

That voice. That feeling. Your world started spinning.

Not again.

"Have a little fun," Ben whispered, rubbing your arm as he talked. "We could do way more here than out there... You'll be fucking screaming."

Stop.

Your mind and body was fogged up. You couldn't think, you couldn't move.

But suddenly, you felt normal again. All of a sudden you came back to your senses and pushed him off you.

"No! I don't want any of this. Go back before I file a report that you escaped."

"What is that going to do? I can just report that you had sex with an inmate. That's pretty immoral, Y/N."

He wasn't wrong. But, Liu told you this wasn't the first time something like this happened, so maybe you'd have a chance at saving your career.

"I'm not the immoral one. Go. I don't want to see you again, you hear me?"

All he did was laugh. That glitchy, high pitched laugh...

"Loud and clear!"

You watched as Ben floated back into the TV, causing it to shut off completely.

Exhausted, you made your way back to your bed. As you laid down in your bed all you could think about was Abbie. Despite the Rollercoaster you had today all you could think about was her. She was out there somewhere. Sad, scared, alone. You had to look into it more tomorrow. You had to get a sit down with Toby and break him. Maybe you could look more into his file and figure out some weaknesses you could exploit. Out of everyone you talked to, he seemed like he'd be the most easy to crack. Jeff is too violent, trying to crack him would probably leave you with a cracked skull. Liu is way too unpredictable. Sometimes he's wacky, sometimes he's quiet, sometimes he's cold, sometimes he's compliant, sometimes he wants to just fuck with you point blank.

Plus, Toby was pretty interesting to talk to. A little manic, a little unhinged, but he had a surprising amount of life and personality to him. Charming? No. Chaotic and fun? Definitely. Maybe a talk with him can lighten up your mood. You still had to figure out how to talk to him. He was the inmate you wanted to have a bond with. An inmate who trusted you and would be honest with you. An inmate you could rely on.

You made up your mind. You were going to talk with Toby.

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

"Feeling better, kid?" Mandel asked as you walked into her office.

"Much better," You said as you sat down in front of her. "Ma'am, I'd like to have a meeting with Toby today."

"Why?"

"I talked it over with Salloum and I'm pretty sure I got the go to dig into deeper."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

No you were not.

"OK, I'll have him ready by 10."

You knew lying to Mandel was going to bite you in the ass later, but you had to do what you had to do. Some of the best officers are considered the best because they did things differently, or at least that's what Gibbons taught you.

You spent the next three hours analyzing your interview with Toby. You analyzed his awnsers and behavior in order to come up with a solid approach.

You were able to come up with a series of questions that weren't too obvious in showing your motives. One thing you learned about Toby was that he was stubborn, and you had to navigate through that. Was it going to be easy, of course not! This man is the definition of a maniac.

Back to room 111.

You sat there anxiously as you heard footsteps slowly approaching.

"Don't make me regret this, don't make me regret this," You mumbled to yourself.

Rule number 1.

As the door opened, your breath hitched as you met the manic gaze of Tobias Erin Rogers. As he eagerly took a seat in front of you, you watched as the door closed behind you.

Now it was just you and Toby.

Always take what Toby says with a grain of salt.

"How are you doing Toby?" You asked, organizing your question paper as he talked.

"Pretty shitty *WOWIE* until I heard I was talking to you today," He said with grin on his face, leaning into the palm of his hand as he looked at you with admiration.

Hell, don't even consider it.

"That's good I suppose. Now, you want to get straight to it or would you like to talk about your night first?"

"...Straight to it."

No matter how believable he seems.

"OK, so."

Because he's always five steps ahead.

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

Tags: @fexthehetalialover @asimpforlife134 @my-jukebox @ch3rrydr34ms @crejia @mspoisoncoil @bruhimsoinlove @imwallysdarling @idkisimptoomuch @noclue-0 @chexrybloss0m @refrigeranteborbulhante @tak0truc @br-que-ama-yanderes @bruhimsoinlove @constantine559 @jamja @srt-buu2 @ghostwriter54 @elevenbts @officaljackmiles

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

I saw you take requests? Would it be alright to ask for Four?? I‘m thinking either something similar to the heat cycle you did with Hyrule, but with the minish instead of fae? Or maybe a fivesome with the colours?? If none of those spark inspiration, it‘s alright if you do something else, tho!

Okay, this is such a brilliant request because DAMN, I completely forgot Four was part minish, so this'll be fun!

Update after 5 hours of writing: yeah, so this is going to be a small-form fic. I'll put the first chapter here and have the other ones ready in separate posts. I can't thank you enough for this request, It's utterly amazing :)

Burning Love

Pairing: Four x Reader

Warning(s): None for this chapter, but the theme of this story is explicit (which means I'll tag all chapters as smut), so please don't read unless you are 18+!

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

Four was not okay.

He had woken to a perfect, cloudless day--with just enough of a breeze to make the approaching summer heat tolerable--with the appalling urge to do... absolutely nothing!

Four liked to think he was one of the more responsible Links in the chain, not that he would ever say it, so it was starting when he awoke, groaning, and immediately rolled back over to sleep. It didn't help that Wind chose that exact moment to yell some ineligible sentence to him, fraying Four's already frazzled nerves. Hylia, if he hadn't been so damn tired, he might have given the Sailor a piece of his mind about common decency.

"Four!" the hero of the seas tried again--t wasn't like Wind to be this loud, Four thought disgruntledly, sealing his hands over his aching ears–while following with a significantly quieter: "Why isn't he up yet?"

"Leave me alone," Four hissed into his bedroll without any real heat. Speaking of heat, when had it gotten so damn hot? He could have sworn the temperature was at least a few degrees cooler when he woke up.

There was more concerned whispering as the other heroes began to take notice of his predicament, Twilight and Warriors looking especially perturbed. Four buried his face in the bedroll when Time cocked an eyebrow in his direction, beginning his heavy approach. Four could feel the exact moment Time sidled up to him, swatting lightly at the hand that fell upon his head. "Four? Are you alright?"

"Mmmph," was Four's eloquent response, only replaced by a surprised gasp when Time's fingers caught his hair in a stern grip, pulling his face up. "What–"

Time placed his free hand on the smaller hero's forehead. "You feel warm," he stated plainly.

"Who feels warm?" A new voice joined the fray and Four wanted to scream. It was you, because of course it was, already dressed in your adventuring clothes, hair slightly damn from what he assumed had been a recent bath in the nearby river. Your eyes narrowed in concern as you took in the sight before you. "Oh no, is he sick?"

"Very well could be," Legend answered, pinning Four with a gaze that had him gritting his teeth. "No offense, but you look terrible."

"Everything you say is an offense," Four muttered, hissing when Time gently smacked him upside the head with a quiet 'behave yourself'.

Four stilled when you approached, laying a cool hand on his burning forehead, eliciting an actual shiver from him. "You've definitely got a fever," you stood, clicking your tongue in sympathy and cocking a delicious hip. "Don't worry, I've got some herbs in my pack with your name on them!" and you were gone from his sight, presumably to rife through your medicine bag,

Dumbstruck, Four lay prone, baffled by the reaction his body had from a simple touch. Maybe there was something wrong with him, because there was no reasonable expiation to the spikes of heat coursing through his veins. The voices typically bouncing raucously around his head were eerily quiet... until you returned with a wooden cup full of sloshing green liquid. It was almost embarrassing how quickly his mouth opened when you came within reach, offering the drink. Four downed it without a second thought, only pausing to take cough when the bitter flavor invaded his mouth.

"Gross, isn't it?" he could have died when you patted his back comfortingly, retrieving the now empty cup. "I appreciate the lack of fight," you joked, sending a short glance to Wind and Legend, who immediately began to defend their honor.

"H-Hey, it's not my fault you make it taste disgusting!"

"But (Y/nnnnnnn)–"

"Butts are for sitting," you interjected, turning your head in Time's direction. "Is there a town nearby we can take him to?"

The oldest hero put a hand on his chin, humming lowly. "Castle Town is a day's walk from here, if we start in an hour, we should be able to make it by sundown."

You nodded, patting Four one last time before rising to your full height, casting a shadow over grounded hero. it was almost embarrassing how quickly his eyes snapped to your strong legs, traveling up to scope out your frankly enchanting hips, which would be perfect for carrying his children–

Smack!

You jumped when Four slammed his head back down on the bedroll, already bending down to examine the fallen hero. "What in the–"

–Only to be pulled back by a slightly-scowling Twilight. "Is there anything else we can get for a fever?"

"I–" you glanced at Four, then the hand wrapped around your wrist, with a worried expression. "I saw some willow trees a few minutes from here."

"I'll get it with you," said Hyrule, who had been on the outskirts of the concerned circle formed around Four's bedroll. While his magic could heal physical ailments, it wasn't nearly as effective with colds and infections–that was why they had you, a retired field medic from Warrior's Hyrule that had fallen through a similar portal a few months ago.

"Alright," you gestured for Hyrule to follow you as soon as Twilight released his grip. As the two of your retreated into the grove, Four allowed himself to relax, mind still spinning with thoughts unknown to even him.

Camp was packed by the time you and Hyrule returned, burdened with nearly a pound of willow bark between the two of you. You found yourself immediately searching for Four, because, while you would never admit it out loud, Legend's assessment of the shorter hero's physical state was quite accurate. You'd known something was amiss as soon as you glimpsed the heady flush practically overtaking his face, not to mention the distinct blurriness of his pupils, which had blown considerably as your interaction progressed.

It wasn't like Four to be so... uncoordinated, and you were genuinely worried that there was more going on than met the eye. You'd seen more than your fair share of sickness and death, so you were going to be damned if you let one of your dearest friends suffer the same fate as those unlucky souls during the war.

Your heart jumped when you found him sitting atop Epona, arms wrapped loosely around her sturdy neck, eyes closed and hairband half-heartedly tied to his forehead. Twilight stood close by, reins in one hand while the other cheerfully waved you over. You approached quickly, already fiddling with the willow bark in your satchel. "How is he?"

"He'll be fine," the rancher grunted, "Hylia knows we have our own troubles ta' work through."

You nodded slowly. "I wish I knew how this could have happened... and it's strange that no one else is feeling unwell."

Twilight sighed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry your head about it, darlin'. He'll find ya in time."

"Thanks, Twi," you smiled softly. "I needed that."

A grin broke through his unusually stoic expression. "Anytime, darl', ya know we're here for you."

"Same here," you peeked over his shoulder to study a snoozing Four. "Do you think it was those mushrooms from two nights ago, those were nasty."

Twilight hummed. "I ain't sure about that, Wolfie wouldn't have brought it if 'e didn't think it was safe."

You tapped your chin. "True, but what if it only affects Hylians, like those berries Wild tried to eat back in Legend's Hyrule?"

A short left Twilight's mouth at the memory of a berry-drunk Wild declaring war on bananas, he rocked back against Epona's shoulder, causing the horse to nicker softly and bump her nose against his chest. "Ya could be on to something, but he ain't drunk."

"Obviously," you rolled your eyes before finding yourself studying Four once more. "I'll take your word for it, though. Hyrule and I got enough willow to last anyone through a lifetime."

"Atta girl," Twilight clapped your shoulder, and you laughed together, only stopping when Warrior's called your name from the other side of camp. "Don't worry, I'll take care'a him."

You tipped an invisible hat. "You're the best, Twi!"

You turned on your heel to see what madness Wars had gotten himself into, not noticing Four's narrowed glare from atop Epona, irises swirling in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color.

The journey to Castle Town was a long one. You walked with Warriors and Hyrule, just before Twilight and Four in case one of them needed something. The only stops made were for Epona or the bathroom, which you had no complaints toward; your friend was sick and you knew bedrest was the best cure was illnesses like his.

"You don't think it's contagious, do you?" Warriors asked between chews of the lynel jerky Wild blessed everyone with a few minutes ago.

"I don't think so..." you trailed off, taking a bite of your own jerky. "Someone would have already gotten sick if it was."

"I agree," Hyrule joined in, tone strangely knowing. The traveller caught your curious gaze, quickly amending: "...That doesn't make it any less worrying."

...Why did you feel like he knew something? Hyrule was a healer, so you wouldn't be surprised, but it was strange that he wasn't coming forth about it. "I'm especially worried about the fever, it means he's fighting something."

"You think?"

"I do," you hummed, resisting the urge to look behind you. "I asked Twilight if it was those mushrooms, but he's not sure."

Warrior blanched with a muttered: "Don't remind me..."

You and Hyrule chuckled simultaneously, just as Wind chimed: "those were gross!" from the front.

The sky was high in the sky by the time you came across a raging river, the only thing across it being a rickety bridge that had even you cringing.

"Just look at that," Hyrule whispered to you and Warriors. "I've seen better bridges built by children."

Time stopped just before the first plank, holding up an armored hand, just as Legend interjected, eyes narrowed in disgust at the 'architecture', if it could even be called that.

"We are not crossing that."

"I didn't say we were," Time replied evenly. "There is another bridge to the south, but it will take an additional few hours to reach."

"Wait," all eyes turned to you. "Will we still be able to get to town in time?"

"No," Time said slowly. "There's a gorge near the town that can't be crossed in the dark."

Well, that wouldn't do. You gestured to the bridge. "Can we cross it if we go once at a time?"

Time's expression turned contemplative... until a small smile broke through the fog and you knew you were on to something. "I believe we've found ourselves a solution."

Get read for some slow burn, y'all.

[ktaerssoi]

hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

-

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the babbit masterpost

HELLO welcome to the Babbit's Blog masterpost!!! On this post you'll find some fun facts about yours allegedly (me <33), some ref's for my different 'sona's, and a couple links to my fics and whatnot! Are you ready? No?? Excellent neither am i let's do this

Meet the Babbits!: the self-inserts/personas

the first ref is for my general/most commonly used persona, Babbit! They aren't really an anthro/furry as much as they are a humanoid with the head of a rabbit. I like to think of this one as the 'me' that's in my head- the purest form of my thoughts and feelings, but not the solid real-life me. The second ref is my self-insert persona, Rabbit, the one i picture using most often when i'm reading a fic or imagining a self-insert scenario lol. This one is like the me that people see and meet and speak to in real actual life, if that makes sense. It's the way I come across to people and all of the things I wish I could iron out of my crumpled up real-self <3 The third is a much more specific 'sona, Hazel, who started off as a FNaF:SB animatronic self-insert. She does have a backstory and lore now, which i think makes her more of an OC than a self-insert, but a lot of her is still me and a lot of what she experiences in her backstory is from my life/instills the same feelings that were taken away from things that happened to me, so I think she kinda counts enough to put a ref for her here sdkjfsdhfj (Why the different names?: makes things a little easier, and they hold meaning to me symbolically, I guess!)

Content!: Here's a short list of my various fics that will get updated as I create more! (it was, in reality, not fine.): FNaF Sun/Moon x Reader fanfic, gender neutral, for general audiences, fluff-fest, idiots to lovers "You're the new tech/repairman at the Fazbear Mega Pizzaplex, unfortunately. Your first task? To make the Daycare Attendant into two separate animatronics. It's an amazing opportunity, really, and there is nothing you love more than getting a chance to really work with such tech! The only bad part is that you don't know how to tell anyone that you just might be in over your head. (You are extremely in over your head.)" After Everything Was Fixed (but you were still broken): AU FNaF Sun/Moon x (Animatronic) Reader, gender neutral, read with caution, angst, harm to sentient robots, traumatized main character, hurt/comfort slow burn, romance slow burn "The virus was gone. Everyone was fixed. You had been put back together. It's a time for a new beginning, to do things right this time, to wash away the past and paint a better future. Their memories of the infection had- mercifully- been taken away from them. Yours had not. He doesn't understand why you try to avoid him. Even if you could tell him, you're not sure you would. You want to be his friend, but it's difficult; every time you see him, you remember the hundreds of times he killed you." A fic where you are a repairman-themed STAFFbot, taking place post-virus. In the past, Moon, infected by the virus, took delight in attacking and dismantling the reader during the night. Now, in the present, you find yourself burdened by the memories of the past while everyone around you has no recollection of the events. It gets more complicated as Sun and Moon, both now cleared of the virus, grow curious of you. This fic will follow a series of arcs, presently on arc one. For anyone curious, feel free to send an ask about the arcs in 'After Everything Was Fixed'! The Sun, the Moon, and the Blazing Comet (title subject to change): AU FNaF Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Reader, gender neutral, teen and up audiences, travel/journey, betrayal, hurt/comfort slowburn, reconciling, themes of breaking the mold, found family (TBA) Hold My Broken Hands (title subject to change): AU FNaF Sun/Moon x Reader, gender neutral, mature audiences, dark romance, dark comedy, severe bodily harm, mutilation, murder, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, lovesick (TBA)

My AU's!: i'm going to make a Babbit-AUs-Masterpost and then put the link here i swear, i just have so many im sorry jdfhsjdfhs (like more than twenty)

Fandoms!: I enjoy, have been in, made or make content for: Pokemon Undertale FNaF Creepypasta (YEAH I KNOW LET ME LIVE OKAY) My Little Pony (I KNOW OKAY LEAVE ME ALONE) Steven Universe Star Trek Warrior Cats i'm sure theres more but i just forgot everything i have ever liked wheeeeeze

Whomst the hell?: HI I'm Rabbit! Or Bones! Or Babbit! Or Avarice/Ava, if you want to go for a more legitimate-sounding name. I'm 24 years old, prefer to use they/them pronouns, and so, so incredibly ace. I've been drawing as long as I've had the ability to hold a pen, writing since I was in grade school, and being a plague to the ones around me since the beginning of time! If you've seen my art, its probably from the absolute mountain of fluffy-wuffy love-dovey (y/n) x Sundrop/Moondrop/Eclipse doodles I've been sharing for several years now sdfjhsdj. If you've heard of my fics, it was probably the one I made just for fun that's now turned into an actual fanfiction that I enjoy writing, the silly-lovey-fluff incarnate (it was, in reality, not fine.) !

Likes n Dislikes!: I'm a sucker for sap, fluff, and lots and lots of love-dovey bullshit! I also like stories about finding oneself and monsters being befriended or loved. I like space, aliens, robots, the odd and strange, injecting humanity into things not human, monsters, creatures, animals, the fae, concepts of spirits and karma and the afterlife, and more! I dislike 'fanservice', most anime tbh LOL it's not personal I just don't enjoy it im srry, FLY BABIES i know they have an actual name but i hate that word too pls just dont i will scream, sexually aggressive/forceful content/characters, being made to feel small, dumb, or trapped,

Other!: I have a pretty high gross-out tolerance! I also have a pretty high 'wow that's messed up huh' tolerance, in that sometimes I will just say stuff that's super grim or dark or messed up and not realize it lmao. I am full of random facts and anecdotes, especially weird or gross ones! sometimes i get on tangents that can go for actual hours so pls forgive that lol

WARNINGS: THIS BLOG MAY FEATURE CONTENT BASED ON/RELATED TO THEMES OF GUILT, CHILDHOOD LOSS, GRIEF, SELF HATRED, DISCONNECTION FROM REALITY/SELF, TRAUMA, AND SEVERE DEPRESSION/ANXIETY. YES I AM GETTING HELP. YES I AM OKAY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND UNDERSTANDING.

bonus persona: crybaby

[fangweaver2099]

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM

 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 

“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 

You blush.

[pirateunderapineapple]

Agathario Ao3 FanFic Recommendation Post

IT IS HERE, IT IS QUEER!

Okay so, I'm trying to gather all of the fics that i have either bookmarked ( so multichapters that i'm following ), and also i'll be going through my ao3 history (oh it's a dark place) to check for either completed works or oneshots etc. They will not be in order of how much I recommend them obv, just in random (except for a couple that you must read or i'll stab you). I haven't found the authors on tumblr but if anyone knows them feel free to tag them, I want all them to know how much i love them hehe This is how it's gonna go: I'll leave you the name of the fic and the author, their summary of the fic and maybe a personal comment, sounds good? Disclaimer: these are fics that i have read and enjoyed so i would like to recommend to other fans as well. If anyone has any other recommendations feel free to add them to the list, i think everyone will appreciate it, myself included! OKAY HERE WE GO

-MULTICHAPTER-

Unraveled by EchoesInTheMargins Summary: The thought of being with a woman had once seemed impossible to Agatha Harkness—a door locked tightly and never to be opened. After all, she was 48 years old, for Christ’s sake.

Then, without so much as a warning, Rio Vidal, a first-year associate, strode into her perfectly controlled life and blew Agatha’s closet door off its damn hinges.

PC: I mean, I trust that everyone knows this one by now and I don't even need to recommend it but just in case! THIS IS A MASTERPIECE! The epilogue was just posted and honestly I can't even describe how I feel about this fic. I would wake up for uni at 7 in the morning and the first thing I did was check if there was an update. How to not keep a secret by disaster_top Summary: Agatha liked to keep her work and personal life separate, which was why even a decade into working as a detective her coworkers had yet to know who she was married to. And unfortunately, her wife had no interest in keeping things that way.

PC: every chapter in this one is kinda like an oneshot, but same universe etc. I really, really love their freaky dynamic ( they're the definition of they much eachothers freak) in this one and I strongly reccommend it!

It’s Bloody and Raw (But I Swear it is Sweet) by Adimnos

Summary: “I don’t believe you. You prefer me—“

“Compliant?” Rio stood slowly, her eyes never leaving Agatha’s face. The action put her inches away, her body heat radiating out, searing Agatha’s skin. “Obedient?”

Agatha’s hips shifted against her will, her lips parting slightly. She closed her eyes against the heady mortification that razed through her chest. She felt Rio move closer and she parted her legs without thought.

Rio stepped between them but didn’t touch, hands settling on the desk inches from Agatha’s hips and hands.

“You always were such a brat.” Rio’s breath was hot against Agatha’s ear, her voice throaty and raw and filthy. “You never knew how to do what you were told.”

Or: After five years away, a still-grieving Agatha is dragged back into the FBI and the arms of her ex-wife. PC: this is art, it's just sto intense, so well written. pure, pure art. i'm thrilled whenever there's a new chapter

Sugar and Honey by visadero Summary: “No way,” Rio said, crossing her arms defensively. “Good for you, get that bag, but I’ll figure something else out.”

Jen’s laughter bubbled up, bright and teasing. “Sweetheart, you’re so sheltered. These women aren’t crusty old grandmas in rocking chairs. They’re powerful, rich, and they smell like Chanel, not mothballs. Some of them are absolutely stunning.” She tilted her head, studying Rio as if sizing her up for auction. “You’d clean up if you stopped being so stubborn. They’d eat you alive—and pay you for the privilege.”

OR: Struggling bartender Rio stumbles into a sugar baby situation with CEO Agatha Harkness. She can't figure out what the woman wants from her, or why she's letting herself go along with it. PC: I really loved this one and I have to add that this fic is actually part of a series, the second work being Honey and Wine , which is basically Agatha's POV i think (sugar and honey is Rio's POV). I haven't got around to reading the second work cause i wanted some time to have passed so as to not remember every detail of the fic. I think i'll be reading it in the next few days tho so can't wait!!

death's doorstep by villhag Summary: One day, Wanda’s spell fades, and Agatha Harkness is awake again.

Pissed off and powerless, she casts a spell to take her somewhere, anywhere but Westview—and it takes her to the last place she wants to be.

Death’s doorstep. -- Agatha and her ex-girlfriend, Death, have a very tumultuous sleepover in Hell. PC: the ending we deserved, thank you author

A Kingdom by the Night by visadero Summary: “You’re early,” Agatha managed, feigning a flicker of annoyance, though her pulse quickened. "I missed you.” The words were simple, almost soft. Her dark gaze held Agatha’s, steady and unyielding. "Agatha huffed, “Is that so?” She turned away, trying to mask the slight flush rising to her cheeks. "I’d think the Queen of Shadows wouldn’t be so sentimental.” The woman’s lips curved ever so slightly as she closed the distance between them. “Think what you want. But here you are." / or : Hadestown came on shuffle, thought about the Hades/Persephone Rio/Agatha parallels and things spiraled wildly out of control PC: this one had me reaaaaally invested

Something Wicked by motherconfessor Summary: While an apprentice witch, Agatha grows frustrated when she's not permitted to learn magic.

Until someone makes her an offer that she can't refuse PC: love, LOVE, LOVE

You'd have to stop the world by Echolux Summary: In the events leading up to Jen and Alice’s wedding, their respective best friends Agatha and Rio have to work together despite their… creative differences.

Oh, and then there’s this: Rio doesn’t fall for straight women. Agatha's not a lesbian. And one of them is lying. PC: This one was one of my recent discoveries and I wish I hadn't gone through it so fast. I appreciated so much the way this author approached the characters and their relationship, it was so pure.

The Ethics of Attraction by Sunshinesongbird Summary: Agatha Harkness prides herself on being a no-nonsense ethics professor, keeping students in line with sharp lectures and sharper looks. But when Rio Vidal—brilliant, sarcastic, and infuriatingly captivating—decides to test those boundaries, Agatha finds herself facing dilemmas that have nothing to do with her syllabus. As playful banter gives way to undeniable attraction, the two must navigate the fine line between rules and reckless abandon. In this classroom, the lessons go far beyond ethics.

THEY ARE BOTH CONSENTING ADULTS THIS IS A DOCTORATE PROGRAM NOT UNDERGRAD THANK YOU!

PC: hehe loving these dynamics

you'll just have to taste me (when she's kissin' you) by agatharioluvr Summary: "You alright, buddy?" She asked, and Nicholas stared up at her, star-struck. "Sorry about that." "It's alright, I caught it before it could hit me!"

Agatha stared at her in disbelief - seeing Rio right in front of her, a little sweaty and breathless; it was unbelievably attractive. Rio looked over at her, smiling that fucking smile of hers, before turning back to Nicholas.

"Well done, little man." She laughed and ruffled his hair a little as he smiled up at her. "I like the jersey - you keep the ball, we've got plenty more."

With that, Rio nodded a farewell to Nicholas and ran back onto the court, signalling for the assistant coach to grab a new ball to use. Nicholas held his new gift to his chest tightly, squealing with delight at the fact that he'd just talked to his favourite player of all time.

OR, Agatha's son idolises a certain star basketball player, Rio Vidal - and maybe she does too...

PC: I actually recently discovered this and read it all in one sitting. Honestly, I think i'm digging the athlete!rio fics a little too much!!

The Green Witch by MickeyJrWrites Summary: Agatha takes her kid to a market where he instantly becomes attached to the sweetest farmer, Rio Vidal. It's a romcom involving carrots and celery. PC: Just cuteness overload and rio calling nicky papito like IM DYING

honey come put your lips on mine (and shut me up) by tinyteamug Summary: “Do not,” Agatha said to herself from her spot in the media booth, “you absolutely do not need to defend your honor against-”

Rio dropped her gloves.

“God fucking damn it.”

The Sharks’ forward had barely gotten her own gloves off before Rio’s fist connected with her jaw. The crowd erupted.

“I am going to kill her,” Agatha announced to no one in particular, already mentally drafting press releases. “Should’ve kept managing curling teams. Nobody ever gets punched in curling.”

OR: Gently feral hockey star Rio and long-suffering publicist Agatha who definitely doesn’t get paid enough for this shit PC: Like i said, athlete!rio is my thing...

break me, shake me, devastate me by saturnreturn Summary: Rio, owner of Westview’s local floral shop “Wisterical,” finds herself with an early Christmas present when her hag of a landlord, Evanora Harkness, keels over. With the biggest pain in her side gone, she’s expecting a relatively stress-free life from here on out.

That is, until the daughter. PC: This doesn't have many chapters yet but i think it's really got great potential!!

hand in unlovable hand by villhag Summary: “You know, it’s kind of illegal to drink here. School property and all.”

It might as well have been the voice of God. The quip came from above; Agatha seeing her shoes before she saw the rest of her. White Nikes, splotched with dirt and grass. Ribbed socks pulled all the way up over gray sweatpants. A dark green sweatshirt. Salem Elementary Soccer embroidered on the front. All culminating with a tan neck, jet-black hair, and a very annoying—should she say condescending—smirk.

Someone had been stupid enough to encroach on Agatha Harkness’s domain. -- Agatha is a widely-despised soccer mom. Rio Vidal is Salem Elementary’s new coach.

Chaos ensues.

PC: same as the previous one honestly

Time Warp by 324b2fun Summary: When Agatha signs on to do a long-awaited sequel to one of her beloved movies, she thinks it'll be an easy check and a chance to reminisce on her youth. Little does she realize her past has come back to bite her in the ass, primarily in the form of one Rio Vidal. PC: I love this fic and especially the flashback chapters

Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light by motherconfessor Summary: “Lucky gal,” Agnes said. “The only way––” and she tried to say Ralph. That had been his name, hadn’t it? The idiot of a man whose house she���d taken over. Instead, what came out, tugged by the spell was, “Rio would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named June 2nd.” - When Wanda's spellwork traps another person in its bindings, Agatha makes a deal that all she needs is seven days to get what she wants.

But seven days is a long time to be stuck in a PG-13 sitcom. PC: agathario in wandavision universe just hits different

-LESS CHAPTERS/ONESHOTS-

anything, and I mean ANYTHING from this author : 324b2fun THEY ARE DOING GOD'S WORK periodt also like, usually when i like a fic i go and check the author's other works so i recommend you do the same

creator, you destroy me by velvetprayer Summary: Time, suddenly, means the moments in between her. PC: there is no need for introductions here i think... this fic was what gotta us all through the finale and i don't even have words to express my gratitude to the author.

i bite my tongue, it's a bad habit by tinyteamug

Summary: In the week since the bonfire incident (which she was absolutely not thinking about), she’d run into Rio approximately seventeen times.

Not that she was counting.

There was Tuesday, when Agatha had taken Nicholas to his first surf lesson. Rio had been teaching the advanced class, wetsuit clinging to her like a second skin, and Agatha had absolutely not watched her demonstrate proper form on the beach.

(“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Wanda had said smugly.

“Shit.”

“And you’re drooling a little.”)

OR Agatha has a mid-life crisis and bails for LA. That’s what people did, right? Terrible breakup, mid-life crisis, pack up your sixteen-year-old kid and move to California. Completely reasonable sequence of events.

Then start sleeping with the hot surfing instructor, royally fuck up keeping it casual, and try your damndest not to fall in love. Less reasonable sequence of events. But whatever.

i looked to the children (i drank from the fountains) by seabiscuit Summary: “Wait, you haven’t even heard my pitch,” She can hear William’s footsteps quickening behind her, “She’s gay, too.”

Agatha turns sharply on her heel, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Agatha slaps a hand over her face, covering her eyes, “Oh my God, Teen, one of these days you’re going to get slapped in the face, and you’re going to deserve it.” * Or,Agatha’s teenage neighbor tries to play matchmaker with her and the hot funeral director who just moved in next door. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

better in the dark by seabiscuit Summary: “I don’t have sex.”

Agatha’s face screwed up somewhere between delight and incredulity, “You don’t ever?” She scoffed, “As in you’ve never at all? How long have you been here?”

“Since the inception of life itself.”

“And you’ve never fucked?” The way she said it, it did sound a little stupid, “What do you do to pass the time?”

“I scare children,” Death shifted in her chair, still rubbing at the skin of one hand with the other. No wonder Agatha had nowhere to live, she thought. She was unbearable. “Amongst other things.”

Or, Upon meeting Death, Agatha takes it upon herself to educate her on some of the finer points of being human. PC: This is pure, pure magic.

death and taxes (a series) by paddingtonfan69 Summary: They’re staring at each other over the now evenly stacked forms at the table. Agatha’s mask has fully slipped and Rio is fascinated by what’s underneath it, an unruly sort of anger, a sharp passion. Agatha looks like she wants to tear Rio from limb to limb. And Rio, god help her, would probably let her.

“Moving on to property taxes…”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Agatha lets out. “Don’t you have a life?” — Rio is the best IRS agent in her field. Agatha refuses to pay her taxes. A love story for the ages.

PC: This story is so random but man I love it

when we kiss (i have anger issues) by lgbtimelord Summary: there’s no one agatha hates more than rio vidal

but there’s no one evanora hates more than the vidal family

so, when her mother forces her to go home for halloween, bringing rio as her pretend girlfriend is the best course of action to piss her off

PC: i remember enjoying this one

with your boots beneath my bed by dumblibramoon Summary: "Here,” Rio said, standing and shrugging off her flannel overshirt. Of course she was wearing layers. Of course.

“I'm fine,” Agatha said automatically, even as a cold shiver ran through her.

Rio just raised an eyebrow and held out the shirt. “You're dripping on my hay.”

“Your hay will survive.” But Agatha took the shirt, trying not to notice how warm it was.

Nicky desperately craved this dusty hellscape of a ranch for summer camp, and because Agatha's not about to leave her son alone with a bunch of horse people, she rents a cottage nearby. And here comes Rio, wearing an incredibly unserious pair of Wrangler jeans PC: just cute little lesbians

if i could take her down and run (then i'd call her) by dumblibramoon Summary: “You're late,” Agatha manages to quip, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

“A lady is never late,” Rio retorts, kneeling beside the fallen witch. Her eyes rake over Agatha's form, taking in the severity of the wound. “Looks like you've had quite the night, sweetheart.”

Agatha tries to laugh, but it comes out as a pained cough. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

“Clearly,” Rio murmurs, her cool fingers brushing against Agatha's cheek. Agatha jolts quickly before listing back and slightly leaning into Rio’s hand. Goddamn, she was woozy.

Rio can sense when Agatha is anywhere near death (the physical kind). Featuring Agatha flirting with both her mortality and Death.

the way i feel about you baby can’t explain it by seabiscuit Summary: “She won’t even admit that she’s gay for a New York City Ballet dancer. You think she would go for you, Rio Vidal of Cobb, Oklahoma?” Jenn raises an eyebrow, “IT service provider who plays Elden Ring in her spare time.”

“Maybe.” Chirps Rio. Hope does, after all, spring eternal. * Or, Rio goes from IT service monkey to fucking her very beautiful, very poised boss in a very short period of time. And then, of course, there’s the aftermath. PC: ngl i don't remember much about this one but i remember liking it lol

She Gets The Job Done by visadero Summary: Cars don’t crash through fences for free,” Rio replied smoothly, shrugging. “But,” she continued, eyes glinting, “I’ll make you an offer. You cover just the cost of parts—let’s call it a grand—and I’ll throw in the labor for free.” Agatha frowned, knowing there had to be a catch. “And what exactly do you want in return?” Rio leaned back against the workbench, arms folded and expression deceptively casual. “Dinner with me.”

OR: Agatha is making her way cross country when she wrecks her car. There's only one shop in town ran by a deeply irritating and magnetic mechanic. She offers a discount on the work in exchange for dinner. Then she really puts in the body work (heyo). PC: this was a cute little piece

so maybe when you kiss me, i can let you see me cry  by rainbowinbeigeboots Summary: Agatha reluctantly has her first sleepover

PC: my babies i loved them so much in this

witchcraft filling your void (a series) by wariangle Summary: Pulling the sheet to her, Agatha gets up, draws a hand through her hair. “Get up,” she says, loudly.

The woman – Rio, if Agatha remembers correctly, Jesus fucking Christ – only mumbles something in response and turns over, away from the noise. On her back, right below her neck, the black tendrils of a tattoo spiral across her shoulder blades.

Agatha’s too fucking old for this. “Get up,” she repeats. She’s been teaching for over twenty years; she knows how to make her voice carry in a room. PC: this series has 4 works with 1-2 chapters each, i just put the summary to the first one. I enjoyed reading it and had some laughs with my baby rio

por eso by stick2theplan

Summary: In the seventies, Wanda decided Westview needed some queer representation. If Agnes hated her husband so much, maybe she’d prefer a wife.

(In which Ralph wasn’t real.)

PC: didn't know if i should add this in the multichapter or not since it is about 15000 words only but in any case, READ THIS

Underneath The Tree by Cthulhus_Curse Summary: Rio is back in her hometown after years of disappearance. Having always been seen as the black sheep for going three decades without meeting her soulmate, she finds herself awkwardly going through the motions of a rather disastrous family Christmas. But when a rather hasty brunette runs into her in town, Rio finds herself happy to spend as much time getting to know her before returning to the cruel reality of the holiday season. — Or Soulmate AU. Everyone has a journal that allows them to write back and forth with their soulmate, but need to leave it to fate to let them meet. ----------- OKAY SO, these were the ones i could find, god this list is long, maybe in the future there will be a part 2, who knows i hope i have been helpful to yall and you guys give these fics and authors the love that they deserve! seeya my babes<3