#the guy who went so far right he went left

[bleedingcoffee42]

The 'Lipton is really worse about Speirs because he went on and on about him and ran Ambrose off' post I have been meaning to make.

Let's set the stage with this letter from Lipton to Winters about how Ambrose just got up and left.

Now, he is referencing the joint interview he had with Bill Guarnere in which both men had a chance to talk about their personal information alone and then had a dual interview about the company.

According to this letter, Ambrose did the joint interview last which means it's probably why he was frustrated. It's a weird interview because Lipton just kept talking about Speirs.

Exhibit A-Speirs is a rugged, strong, fearless leader. He had deep feelings. I'm not unbiased. He told me I got promoted so of course he's going to be a friend regardless of other things.

Exhibit B- Speirs sees an officer who has been hit. I can see that he was really broken up. I am trying to form opinions of this new company commander. he's got strong friendship. He has people he was friendly with. Bed sharing and adamant about it being because Speirs said to take the bed not the strudel or schappes that saved him. 'And knowing Speirs, knowing he that he killed one of his own sergeants' in Normandy' and demanding to know why he didn't kill Craver . Then 'They did have the right guy. But I think he---' (mmm? he what?)

Exhibit C- It was 1947 and I wanted to know more about him so I asked Hester. (WHY HESTER? Ron Speirs was there. At the reunion. Sitting at the same table. Across from Carwood Lipton. )

He didn't drink or smoke and kept himself in good condition. Then he came back to our shared tent, which had TWO beds, and cried. "These things to me show me he is a real human person." (what?) . As far as I'm concerned he did a good job everywhere. What did Malarkey say about him?

Exhibit D -Anyhow he killed this guy in Normandy and NO we don't record how they died if they got hit by friendly fire?

TL/DR- Carwood Lipton is not unbiased about Ronald Speirs and good for him. Ambrose was not looking for that kind of information and left and didn't come back.

[msookyspooky]

Fours a Franchise

Part 19

Wordcount: 6,978

A male cop sat by your bedside that afternoon.

Asking you as much as he could while Judy and him took turns writing things and asking things as well. “Those men, who were they?” 

“Hard to say.” You replied as calmly as you could. You were a horrible liar according to everyone but you tried your best to dance around the truth. Sweating bullets and being able to thankfully blame it on sepsis and medication.

“What about that night?” The cop asked as Judy wrote things down.

“They just showed up… Do we have to ask all this right now?” You coughed out sickly. You felt like absolute death.

“I'm afraid we do, Miss YN... Did you know them?...Witnesses  say you called someone.” 

“Jill is the only one alive. Just say Jill.” You mumbled in agitation. Oh you wanted so badly to unravel her lie that she was SUPPOSED to be hiding under a bed and you were on the roof on the other side of the house fighting Ghostface when you called Stu. She was a fucking liar but you had to bite your tongue. You both had a deal here.

“No, of course not. Who I called wasn't those guys if that's what you're implying...I was calling numbers on my phone for help and accidentally called a distant friend I barely ever see. I meant to call Dewey and accidentally called him. He probably thought I was pranking him or something. Ghostface attacked me after that I dropped my phone in the yard and fell off the roof.” You shrugged. Trying not to look at the cop and keeping a poker face with the truth with sprinkles of lies in it. 

The officer wrote things down, “Did those two men take you against your will from this hospital?” 

“Yes.” You firmly stated and looked back at him. Not a lie. They did drag you out. That was God's honest truth that you wish they wouldn't have done but also what choices did you all have left?

“Their description?” 

You tried to ponder, truthfully having to remember what Jill even said. She rushed it out while threatening you in a half delirious fever type of state. “I um…They uh didn't let me look at them too much…”

“Elaborate for us. Why wouldn't you look at your captors?” He sternly demanded

You softly raised your hand trying to find the words and swiped a hand motion over your eye. Getting nervous he might be unraveling you already. 

“You mean blindfolded? Threatened you?” 

“B-Blindfold. Yeah, they blindfolded me once in the car.” What a lie but a good one to save yourself. You didn't know if you could lie that well so try as you.might you gave a half truth. “I passed out most of the car ride, anyways. I didn't see where they took me like roads and everything. And um…And once at the house, I wasn't around them much and they didn't let me see them with being uh…Blindfolded and tied. I was way too weak to even try escaping…” You swallowed. 

“Too weak?” 

“Yeah. Too scared. Too sick. Too injured. I really was out of it and a sitting duck as a hostage.” You gave with a tight voice. God, you might puke again. 

You yelled internally, ‘Damn it, YN. Pull it together. Tell some damn useful fake info!’ Especially now that the cop eyed you, pausing in their writing to analyze you. 

You continued, “But um I did see them a few times and at Kirby's of course…One had red hair I think and far apart teeth and eyes. Tall… The other with dark hair had a hook nose and tan skin…Um…The tall one had a tattoo of something on his shoulder. Uh…Right. Yeah, his right shoulder. He… ” You debated but just went for it. “They reminded me of that Tim and James guy from Windsor years back. Just older and different.”

“So you think these men are the same ones from the 98 incident in Ohio??” Judy asked instead and looked intrigued at the revelation.

It was risky. It could link Billy and Stu to Tim and James like you tried 13 years ago…But it could also get them away from the Tim and James image and send police on a wild goose chase for a while.

You sighed, “The one's never found or proven? I can't say..Maybe? I was in too much shock. It all happened fast and I was on anesthesia once at the hospital and…” You sighed more begrudgingly this time. “This time; I was too focused on protecting Jill at the house than to get details on who those men were but they did remind me of them. I just know that the one definitely had a tattoo and the other had a hooked nose and gree- no, blue. Yeah, blue eyes.” You swallowed down the lies just spewing from you to save your ass while you felt your back sweating and soaking your hospital gown.

“What was it? The tattoo?” 

Oh shit…Shit! Damn, what did that little murdering cretin say it was? Oh no…Think think-

You gave a tight uncomfortable smile and shook your head, “A Phoenix or Dragon or something? I don't remember.” Well the not remembering part was true. 

“And if we reviewed cameras; would it match your story of being dragged out?” 

You ALMOST felt a coughing fit happen at how dry your mouth was…But ICU had no cameras in the room, you remembered that much. Only the hallway.

Judy wrote all this down and nodded to herself. Hopefully that was good…

“Yes…I was dragged out against my will.” 

———————————

Gale listened beside Dewey as they stayed out of the room but within ear shot as he was still technically on the case as Sheriff till he fully turned his badge in. Dewey seemed like he didn't want to see you, didn't want to be near you, didn't want anything to do with you, especially the more you spoke. 

After the officer left your hospital room with Judy in tow, Gale went in despite Dewey trying to get her not to. It seemed she wasn't even worrying about Judy, just enraged at your lies. Dewey was trying to grab her arm but she barged in anyways once you 3 were alone.

You laid there still sicker than a dog but feeling more aware with the right treatment each hour. You gazed over at the woman you once tried so hard to see as a friend even after everything she had done over a decade ago. Look where it got you?

“What are you doing?” Gale demanded with a stern hiss. “What are you playing at? We all saw them and you know who they were. Shit, you protected them! You protected them from Dewey!” 

You said nothing…Glancing over at Dewey in the doorway who wouldn't look at you. A frown and tense look on his face as he folded his arms.

“Listen, YN. I know now. Okay? I do. I should have listened; I believe you. I know Jill Roberts was one of the Ghostface's and she helped Charlie. If you help me; we can lock her up. Randy and all the other victims can get justice.” 

Your eyes widened with a tiny glimmer of hope in you but you shoved it down and knew better. Gale could just be baiting you. Getting you to admit just to lock you up too. And besides…It was too late for that. They shoved you aside, damned you, and protected Jill. There was no turn from that. They could have killed Jill when she showed how she was the potential killer or at least arrested her and kill or fight Billy and Stu afterwards…You didn't know if you would've fought for Billy and Stu as much had Jill been dead but you'd be damned if Jill lived and your only support in Billy and Stu died because of Dewey and Gale. That hope was dead.

Gale stared at you as you were silent. She urged you, “Please just give a correct goddamn statement. Even just to us. I swear, if you tell us the truth, we'll get her…Damn it, do it for Randy. Wasn't he your friend?” 

You stared at her long and hard. “...Because you're so trustworthy after everything you've done?” You mumbled then stayed silent. Anything you said could and would be used against you with cops or the media…Especially Dewey and Gale now. 

“Hmph. So that's how it is, huh? You're gonna betray everyone to hide those two and to keep your own ass safe? Using Selfish Bitch." Gale spat not even whispering now.

Apparently you were a bad liar and a using bitch to everyone lately.

You just looked away wishing she would just leave. “...I told you that night.” You croaked out. “I told you and look what you did. What both of you did…I told you 15 years ago and then 13 years ago…” You shook your head to yourself. “And from a decade onward I've had to rely on myself…You both did this decades ago and now you're trying to blame me?”

Gale perked up and Dewey spared a glance.

You continued in a low mumble, “...I never helped Billy and Stu in 1996. I meant every bit of that. I swear on my life, I never helped them kill my friend's and tried to get them caught for it.” You told the whole truth but carefully in case Gale had a wire. “And you tried taking me to court to be tried as an accomplice for murder over a delay and possibly altered tape. A serious crime with decades of prison time had it worked and you expect me to trust telling you anything? Fuck you.” 

Dewey subtly eyed you. Frowning deeply at ‘friend's’ knowing that meant Tatum too. Yet he seemed like he couldn't even bring himself to truly look at you let alone talk to you. Gale's eye twitched at you dishing the fact of what she tried to pull years ago.

“...Fine.” Gale shrugged mockingly. “Fine, you weren't involved then but you know they're alive. You knew all this time and you hid it…Why? Why did you hide it? Why did you buck me so much at Windsor? Whether we had bad blood or not; we both agreed. We both know who Tim and James are and the first description is accurate. Not this shit you're selling. We both saw them at Windsor, we both saw them a few nights ago in ICU and they do not have a hooked nose and blue eyes and red hair and a fucking tattoo. Why did you hide them in Hollywood? Why are you hiding them now? WHY?” She pleaded urgently with a frown.

You blinked at that but kept your lips sealed.

“Dewey has the pictures of you with them in a motel. Twice.” She threatened through gritted teeth. “I didn't see a fucking hooked nose. I didn't see red hair. I see a damn liar meeting up with two murderers…And they look like grown up Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” 

Ah…That's right. Randy seemed to mention something or maybe it was Dewey? It was hard to tell in the chaos. Regardless, you didn't care if it was clear as day…You were gonna deny it. You had nothing left to lose but your life and freedom and you weren't talking.

Gale seemed to be losing her patience with your tight lip routine. “Aren't you gonna talk? Why are you lying? Why are you giving false descriptions of them when those aren't the pictures you described at college? Andrews and Richard's description matched too…What happened to that scar on James aka Billy's cheek, hm? The one you insisted on at Windsor. Same side you cut Billy with shears the night before he supposedly roped you in against your will. He had gauze on his cheek at the party from you and he still has that scar. In fact, I saw it here at this hospital.  Why leave out that important identifier?...If we found this guy you had relations with or whoever else is on your phone; would he have a scar, YN?” She growled out through her teeth.

“13 years ago…I was under stress and projecting my trauma. I saw what I wanted to see and I think Randy did too. I was in a bad place mentally. But now that I'm more aware and better?” You stared at her long and hard. Lying but this was an easy lie to retell because it was a lie people already labeled you with. “...I just don't remember a scar now-”

“Stop lying!” Gale scoffed loudly, “How can you live with yourself knowing two murderers are free all because of you!? How can you lie to us all these years? In fact, if I was more shocked I'd return the favor and hit you like you did me back in the day; but I'm not that shocked. I always knew you were a liar, I just couldn't prove it. You probably did work with them in 96, right? You're just trying to make it look good, right?...Huh? Are you secretly happy that everyone is dead?” 

You just took it. Numbly gazing at her. Anything you said would be against you. Gale was baiting you to talk and you weren't falling for it. They could claim they had evidence and you still wouldn't speak. 

“You aren't even gonna defend yourself?” Gale demanded. “We could go through your phone, you know. We can see who called. Who you texted. Pictures. I can dig deep. I can find evidence at your house. I can ask around.”

You sighed and just shrugged. All while holding her gaze as you laid in that hospital bed. You felt like you had done this too many times and honestly? You were damn tired. If you did go to prison…So what? This shit was getting way too old for you. Might as well try lying and playing stupid and see if it's as easy as these Ghostface's act like it is.

She grumbled out, “You fucking -” 

“Gale.” Dewey's voice rang out in a low tone. “Leave her alone…She clearly won't talk. We're wasting our time.” 

You frowned deeply wanting desperately to talk to him, more than Gale, to explain…But you knew that was a wasted effort. He wouldn't listen. Hell, he could be bugged; not the same Dewey you knew. So you kept quiet as Gale stormed out before turning back to you and marching back to your bedside to get her final say. 

She returned to get the final word. “You know, I'm a tough cookie. I can handle my maid of honor at my wedding betraying me. I can handle you being a fucking liar…But I can't handle you hurting my husband. He's done nothing but be heartbroken and who can blame him? A woman he looked at like a little sister knew the guys that killed his actual sister; that they were both alive! All while she lied to his face for 15 years!” She spat out, looking almost ready to hit you.

“Gale!” Dewey ordered in a shaky way that just didn't even sound like him. “That's enough. Let's go.” 

You knew your face was failing you. The one ‘Woodsboro Family’ you had left thought you killed Tatum or at least Randy. And at best; he thought, no, he knew you hid his sisters' murderers from him for years.

You swallowed to get the lump down in your throat. Your chest ached as you looked at Dewey and you both locked eyes for a moment and you saw a cold look. Hurt and hate in his eyes you never thought would ever be directed at you as he and Gale left you alone in that hospital room.

“Dewey.” You mumbled to Dewey. “…Where's the Dewey I knew in Hollywood that nabbed my files for me to help me?…Or who read all my book just because I wrote it and found it inspiring?…And now you won't even talk to me alone and hear me out?” You tearly gave in to his revenge and anger and bitterness making him a totally different man. Like seeing Billy and Stu made him spiral and you know it was the cherry on top. “I'm still sorry, Dewey.” 

Leaving you feeling more alone than ever before. Such a stark contrast from him 15 years ago hugging you and crying in your arms at the hospital and defending you…To being the one accusing you and staying away.

Dewey stared at you. His mouth twitched in a tight frown before he left you alone.

———————————

Gale listened as the officer interviewed Jill and her mouth hung open as Jill gave the exact description of the two that you did…It was a lie! It was impossible!

As Judy wrapped it up, Gale all but grabbed her. “This isn't right! Damn it, aren't you trained in observation? Didn't you see the guy that shot you!?” 

“Get your hands off of an Officer, Gale.” Judy ripped her arm away defensively, “I didn't get a good look at him because he shot me after he hit me in the head but he was tall with far apart eyes-” 

“And the hair? Was it dark blonde or red?” 

Judy pondered, “Blondish?…No, Red. Strawberry Blonde-” 

“No!” Gale grumbled at her memory being tainted by Jill and you. “Look at the cameras! Me and Dewey can give an exact description.” 

Judy sighed, “And I believe that of Dewey.” Gale's eyes narrowed at the favoritism as Judy continued, “But we have two witnesses that claim differently and they match up even when interviewing them separately and being away from each other for days. And the cameras only show certain angles that match! We didn't see faces up close and the footage isn't in color.” 

“Why the hell not!?” 

“It's a small old hospital!” Judy exclaimed and shrugged dramatically. “And I'd rather discuss this with Sheriff Riley alone, Gale.” 

Dewey's shoulders were tense as Gale rubbed her face and ignored the blonde's last statement.

Gale mumbled to herself, “I don't understand... How does Jill go from wanting YN dead and claiming she's involved to claiming she was… What? Just scared and misunderstood the situation? And how did they both lie correctly? They had to have communicated together recently under our fucking noses. They had to!” Gale ranted as none of this went how she expected. 

Judy got out her notepad, “Do you want to give another statement? These guys…Sheriff Riley said Billy and Stu…He said in a past statement Jill told him that YN-” 

‘Oh Dewey…’ She thought to herself as she watched him walk away and gave him space. The man looked defeated. Like everything he knew turned out to be a lie.

Gale and Judy blinked hearing something be thrown in the bin nearby. Gale faltered seeing Dewey stalk off. “Sheriff?” Judy worriedly called out to him as Gale went to the trash bin. Picking up his hat with a tight frown. For her husband to do that? To something he was so proud of and his job? 

————————————

You took a stressful 2 days to ‘recover’. Everyday was you on edge and sicker than a dog, you swore your blood pressure was probably up and heart rate a permanent over 100 bpm. The police bothered you one more time for a description and you tried your best to lie about their appearance and you knew you were suspicious. Probably a shitty liar. Stressed and tense and nervous as Hell. But lucky for you, one thing was truthful; you did not know where they were or directions of where they took you. During the day, you were passed out. At night, you were feverish and it was dark. 

You were waiting for them to catch you in a lie. To search your phone. You hated that Billy and Stu stupidly sent you here with your phone on you. Probably not even thinking with you close to death. 

However, it didn't happen. Gale came to pressure you one more time with the photos Dewey had. And to your relief, yeah you COULD say they looked like Billy and Stu especially a decade ago but the most recent ones had them both pretty obscure while inside the motel on the outskirts of Woodsboro. In fact, you couldn't see them. Judy just took shitty pictures to report to Dewey. They had nothing. 

Of course, when she pressed the cops once she realized you wouldn't talk…They questioned.

“Who are those men and why were you meeting them?” 

You paled at Judy's urgent questioning on day 2 in a half of you in that hospital. You sighed…Damn Gale. Damn her.

"You mean the ones you followed me and took pictures of in secret? Stalking me?" I grumbled.

Judy remained aloof, "It was Sheriff Riley's orders to keep an eye on you at all times. Who were they?"

“...One is my mechanic and the other I met in Hollywood years ago…I met them for…” You groaned and was unable to make up something better. “We have…We needed each other.” You nervously coughed out.

Judy looked oblivious. “And what for?” 

Despite yourself you felt flustered because even as a lie; you didn't feel like claiming a booty call. “Um…Relations.” 

She blinked. 

You narrowed your eyes; dear lord how did she have a kid? 

“Sex.” 

Judy's eyes widened even buggier than usual. “Oh…OH!” She wrote something down. “You with…Both??” 

“Yes.” You forced out cheeks heating and a glare at the wall. “I have a well known name and I know how unconventional it is so they're a secret.” 

Judy cleared her throat and uncomfortably adjusted herself. “Well…Ms. YN. There's no room for secrets with a string of murders. Where are they?” 

“Don't know, we called it off.” 

“Oh really? And what were their names?” 

You shrugged, “Vincent and Den..Nis. Dennis.” 

Judy raised a brow. “Last names?” 

“Vincent never told me his last name.” 

“And you never asked??” Judy looked bewildered.

You blew air through clenched teeth, “Look it was never serious enough. Not everything is a Disney Romance, you know... Vincent is just a guy that works at some mechanic shop that I think is closed now and we have…Look we just have quick relations, okay?” You grumbled wanting to be anywhere but here. 

“And Dennis? You met him in Hollywood? During Stab? Could it be-” She gasped. “...The actor?! Rafkin?” 

You winced, “...Um…Maybe...Yes. He keeps a low profile probably out of the Country on Holiday.” Unable to get out of this one. 

“Do you have their numbers?” 

“Yes but I doubt they'd answer. We called it off.” You gazed over at her. “And they weren't involved. I promise I know my…-” You grimaced. “Guys and they were not the two guys involved in this.” 

Judy wrote things down. “You know we can get a warrant to look through your phone-” 

“You can now.” You swallowed hoping doing this might make you look more innocent.

You felt your palms sweating as she looked. Then raised a brow seeing ‘Vincent’ texts. “What's this?” 

“We spoke secretly because I did not want Randy and them to look down on me for my private life…We called in secret. I heard a noise and thought it was the killer and it wasn't. So he texted me frantically thinking something happened.” 

And that was the honest truth, actually…Hm. Maybe this lying thing wasn't too hard. Just tell what truth you could throughout the lies.

Judy nodded looking through your phone seeing you had called an ‘unknown’ number the night at Kirby's.

“That was Dennis. I meant to press Dewey's contact. I always kept his unknown because he was so…Embarrassed over being with someone like me.” You forced yourself to give as if a woman scorned.

She eyed you and you prayed she bought it. To your immense relief, she handed you the phone. “You deserve better. Especially if he's the same guy I heard you arguing with at Mr's Meeks' house in the backyard. I know how tough a situationship can be, believe it or not.” 

“Can't argue with that.” You sighed out in relief. 

“Well, for now, they're not suspects or witnesses. We aren't resting till we capture these guys that kidnapped you though. Murderers, kidnappers, one shot an officer and could've killed me…I swear, I'll never forget his face…I swear he looked familiar.” 

You forced a head nod but felt tension at that. That tension didn't leave even as she finally left. All it would take is watching a movie with Dennis and boom.

You heard Gale arguing with her down the hall and you rolled your eyes. You saw Judy warn Gale to back off of police business. Showing her badge for emphasis through the window.

Gale wasn't gonna stop. She just wasn't. And if she did? It would be a while. Years of watching your back, who you talked to, who you called, what you said.

You sighed and leaned back, closing your eyes in your elevated hospital bed. You couldn't go home fast enough. No more hustle and bustle, no more interviews, no more book signings, no more. You didn't care if you had to work remotely or a shitty normal job  if it meant peace. A nice domestically slow leisurely life. You were so damn eager after all this time and all this stress; so much grief fueling you to shut yourself away like you did a decade ago. Only this time no Randy or Dewey by your side. 

It was a little bit later that you turned on your tv while trying to stomach food of some sort…Every news station was you and Woodsboro and…Jill Roberts.

You declined every single interview not only to appease that little monster but because you just wanted to be done with the limelight. If Jill wanted all eyes on her like a spoiled brat? So be it! 

Your eyes narrowed and a sickening feeling came up as Jill played the victim in her hospital room still down the hall from you. Most likely an interview from earlier today. 

“It was terrifying…I'm just so glad me and YN made it. YN really fought hard but after she went down I did what I had to survive and finish off Charlie and the other two thankfully stayed down…It was traumatic.” She dabbed her eyes.

That lying little bitch. 

You felt anger well up in you. There was no answer. Either go to prison for god knows how long and have your name tainted to HOPEFULLY get her to go to prison too…Or suck it up that the person that murdered her friends and yours; got away with it. Clearly the police after interviewing you both separately again and again were positive despite Dewey or Gale's rambling and a stray nurse or doctor that didn't line up. The police and media seemed to think that you weren't involved and sadly neither was that piece of teenage shit.

Two crudely drawn pictures of ‘suspects’ were up. They somewhat resemble Billy and Stu but not quite. Not enough to pick them out of a crowd right away. Thankfully after you ‘admitted’ to Windsor pictures of Billy and Stu as Tim and James not being accurate and Randy unable to buck you or those two Detectives; they weren't reliable now. Just a traumatized teen girl that needed on meds back in ‘98 that poorly convinced, but convinced nonetheless, the authorities that the current sketch was more accurate of ‘Tim and James’ aka the guys ‘Most likely’ involved. Vincent and Dennis may need to change their look and lay low for a year or two. Maybe even change identities…But they might get away too, and despite how wrong it was, you were kinda…Relieved. 

You groaned and turned your tv off. Unable to listen to Jill's fucking lies. She lied much better than you did but thankfully since both your stories matched and they had no idea the cunning weasel Jill was. No clue she called you in secret on someone's phone or even the hospital staff for all you knew with how devious she was…Who would contradict your statements? Your ‘description’ matched up and you two were the only ones at the house to say so and the hospital had a few camera shots of them but too many contradictions. Judy barely got a glimpse of them and could clearly easily be swayed. Dewey was ranting like a lunatic that it was Billy and Stu and was obviously discredited for it and Gale was 50/50 if people would believe her. 

Dewey and Gale's descriptions were accurate and looked like Billy and Stu who were supposed to be dead. You and Jill's description match for the most part and you both were the victims at the house and both of you feigned innocence that ‘How could they possibly be Billy and Stu? There's no way.’ 

Who would the cops and the media believe? Exactly.

You closed your eyes. Back to square one. Being the innocent sweetheart was good while it lasted but you knew it wouldn't last forever. Just like you knew it wouldn't last for Jill either…She'll find out the hard way attention isn't always good. 

You knew conspiracy theorists would side with Gale and Dewey just like they did in the 90's when Gale made her claims you were involved. Some believer had attacked you at your damn house. And truthfully, this time around they'd be half correct. But thankfully, no one but tinfoil hats and naysayers would trust Gale's word over you, Jill and the media.

————————————

Gale paced their house. “This is bullshit…” She shoved a newspaper onto the table. “Utter bullshit, Dewey!” 

Dewey clutched his head. Yesterday still on his mind and today. He had to identify Randy Meeks body for Karla before they planned any final arrangements yesterday. He didn't want Karla to have that on her…Seeing his lifeless face.

The legal battle of Randy being Jewish and the state versus his religion on keeping his body for examination way past 24 hours for any evidence. He looked like a Halloween prop to Dewey. Skin unnatural from being kept on ice so to speak. They made sure he was not embalmed, at least only kept on ice and a Rabbi performed the right ceremonies for him. The Jewish Community the Meeks were a part of, including his sister Martha, fought the authorities wanting his body buried immediately while coroner's had to gather as much evidence as possible. Fibers, prints, how he was killed, if the knife matched a suspect.

It was only after determining the killer was most likely Charlie after finding knife patterns matching his Dad's hunting knife and shoe prints matching his in the mud and a hair found almost days later on Randy's jeans matching Charlie that they could put him to rest…Even though there was plenty of other contaminated evidence from the party on him and even if arguably some evidence was overlooked. Dewey just had to confirm the body one more time before putting him to rest. The coroner wanted more time but was legally advised along with the police department not to. That they had already pushed Jewish law enough as it was for the examination and Randy's family would win in court if they were taken there, something they threatened if even one more day went by. After all, his body had been kept for over a few days.

Bruises on the neck from the rope, lifeless features, skin so cold it was blue with veins showing. He couldn't imagine how much sewing they had to do to his body under that sheet despite his religion; or else his innards would be spilling out everywhere while on the examination table. When they opened his eyes slightly, lifting the lids, they were gray and dead…He looked nothing like fun jovial smart alec Randy and yet it was him. 

“Are you listening!?” Gale snapped.

“No.” Dewey mumbled in a strained voice, nursing whiskey. It has become a crutch to sleep and to loosen up right now. “No, I'm not. I had a pretty bad few days, Gale.” 

Gale went to snap a snarky remark but faltered. Then with a heavy sigh she leaned over the table. “...I know this was a shitty week. But if anything, it's more of a reason to not stop fighting.” She pointed at the table. “Do. Not. Give. Up.” 

Dewey leaned back looking at her. A lot of hope drained from him the last few days. “...And what? It's an open investigation now turning into a cold case.” He groaned and lightly smacked the table. “There are multiple fingerprints, one might match Billy Loomis from ‘96 but what will that do if they're nowhere to be found and no evidence they're alive? You said it yourself! We'll be laughed out of the courtroom. They'll claim the fingerprints were unreliable smudges or someone else. Same with the blood. If they aren't in the system paying taxes or buying things from reputable places or have credit scores then what good does it do? They might not even be in the Country now.” He shook his head.

“So what?” Gale urged. “And we don't know that. If they're stupid enough to stick around to help YN-” 

Dewey winced at that, “Can we just stop talking about it?” 

Gale looked dumbfounded but sat down. “...Don't you want this solved?” 

He scoffed, “Of course I do! But if Billy and Stu are never found then what good does it do?” 

“Um, incriminating Jill? The actual killer.” She grumbled. “If you won't search Jill's phone records then I will go to the Attorney General and get a subpoena.” 

Dewey glared at his wife, “No you won't.” 

“And what's stopping me? Why not!?” She demanded at her wits end with her husband  going in circles. “Still think Jill's innocent?” 

Dewey's mouth twitched and he rested his chin on his forearm on the table, “I don't know what to think anymore…But you are not going to rock this case until we find Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” 

“Why?” Gale demanded harsher this time. “What's stopping me from just pointing it out online to some crime junkie then?! That video was shot in Jill's room Dewey and it's obvious and I can't believe you and your department are glossing over it!” 

“Because you're not throwing YN in prison, alright!?” He finally snapped before his voice and face wavered. “If you search Jill's phone and we find that evidence or we overanalyze the video and prove it was there then a case will go to court and…I don't know how much YN is involved. But I just…I just can't send her to prison until those bastards go first!...Besides, a video isn't enough without DNA and eyewitness testimony…Kirby said nothing about Jill or YN, only Charlie, and both their stories match up suddenly. We're the odd ones out here and Judy was knocked out before she could truly see them…All you'll do is send YN to prison, possibly Jill and those two jerks walk free like they have for 15 years.” He firmly declared.

Gale looked bewildered, “I can't believe this.” She huffed with a shake of her head. “You told her to get out and never come back. You were hunting her down. You wanted to arrest her if it meant getting answers-” 

“I wasn't thinking, Gale.” He grumbled and sipped his glass. “Maybe…Maybe I do think Jill could be what you claim?” Gale looked pleasantly surprised but he continued, “Maybe I realize this is bigger than I thought? Maybe, just maybe, I still have a bit of faith in YN that she wouldn't do any of this unless blackmail or forced or something…Why else would she come back? Why else would they send her here? You saw her! She was fighting them down the hall! She didn't want to go-” 

Gale scoffed and got up from her chair, “You're being an idiot!” 

“And you're being an opportunist.” He bitterly told her. “You're being the Gale I broke up with years ago. It always comes full circle for you, doesn't it?” Gale stiffened at his tipsy words and looser tongue as he buried his weary head in his arms on the table. 

“Hey, it does not! I have a career!” She argued seeing Dewey get more tipsy it seemed by the hour. Minute even. 

“Randy's dead. YN's a Traitor whether by force or her own will. Jill could be the victim or the killer. Billy and Stu lived and are out free. Hell, maybe I'm the killer at this point? Or you!” He slurred with a pitiful groan.

She huffed, rolling her eyes and taking the bottle from him. Gale gazed down at him and her usual stoic smugness softened. “...I know this is probably harder on you than it is me and we're being assholes to each other.” She sat the bottle aside and cupped his cheek as he damn near pouted at her. She sighed and softly ordered. “I think you need to take care of yourself with sleep and food that isn't liquid.” 

He grumbled, “No…I gotta keep looking, you said it yourself we can't give up. But for them, not YN and Jill. I want them to suffer, I want them to face justice damn it.” 

She sighed again and combed his short hair back a bit with her fingers. “Yeah, I know. But the biggest evidence to incriminate Jill Roberts and put the murderer away is on her phone, Dewey. It's right there.” 

“And the biggest evidence of all is Billy Loomis and Stu Macher.” He enunciated their names. 

“Look. Two things can be right, ya know.” 

“Not until we get them. I know YN, Gale…They got something on her…She's scared and won't talk cause she's worried.” 

“Yeah, worried about her own ass.” Gale grumbled under her breath as she pulled away.

“What?” 

“Nothing.” She straightened herself. “Dewey, c'mon. You cannot just let the case go cold until we find Billy and Stu; if we find them. What? Are you just giving up because we may never find them?” 

He shrugged tiredly, dark eyes dropping. “Maybe. The media is having a field day with Jill and we would need a LOT of evidence to make her guilty IF she is and you're right somehow.” 

Gale reluctantly agreed in a grunt of resignation. Jill was sweet as pie right now and the media was in her favor. 

“And YN was already made to look guilty from yyoouu-” He pointed at her, “She'll get blamed for something those two did!” 

She sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah? May I remind you she lied and shielded Billy Loomis from being shot. Twice. 1996 and now 2011” 

“Because she's a good person; you should try it.” He huffed out.

Gale sneered with a tsk, “Alright, you're eating something and sobering up.” She stalked to the kitchen as he sat at the small table and kept talking.

"She may be naive and stubborn but she's too soft hearted...I was wrong. She's gotta be protecting them from blackmail or maybe from being just too sweet of a person." He swallowed and shook his head. “She was dragged out…She didn't wanna go with them…You said it yourself, why was Jill in her room in the middle of the night? Why did Billy and Stu take her back here?...Why isn't she saying anything?...Why does her and Jill's description match when they're lliieesss?” He stretched out the last part. “How'd that happen, Gale? Huh? How did it happen?” He almost pleaded tiredly.

Gale was at a crossroads that she couldn't quite decide yet. She did NOT like the idea of it being a cold case forever looking for Billy and Stu…She hated someone else getting the glory for the inevitable of pointing out Jill's low survival rate and her superficial wounds plus Olivia's death recorded from her bedroom window as her neighbor…

Gale momentarily halted making him something. “...I don't know.” For once, was the answer. The only answer she had. Nothing made sense to her. You and Jill wouldn't talk and Dewey was gonna fight her on incriminating Jill and you. For hiding those two; Gale had no issue sending your ass to prison for tanking her career over lies you were still lying about but Dewey apparently did. 

But she also didn't want to make an enemy of her husband.

Fuck.

She sighed heavily while making him a grilled cheese. “....Fine.” She laid the plate down harsher than necessary in front of him. “We'll twiddle our thumbs waiting around to find Billy and Stu but mark my words, Dewey. If another murder happens? I am bringing that tape in play and that second murder is on you and Woodsboro PD. If YN goes to prison for whatever involvement she had then so be it. You can't protect her forever; especially if she's a damn murderer too.” 

With that, Gale left the room. Leaving a weary Dewey half drunk and tired and so emotionally drained he might as well be catatonic as he numbly nibbled on the grilled cheese his impatient wife burned.

[jess-the-vampire]

Quick question one fan to another. Do you think Phillip knew he was related to Eda & Lilith? And would have knowing about his family made any difference or was he just too far gone?

genuinely? hard to tell

i mean dana claims "Some people do know"

and philip COULD of been one of them, and you could say that's a factor in why eda and lilith are targeted the way they were

but on another hand, you can also kinda sum that up as a result of remembering lilith from his past and therefore disliking her from that, and eda herself being the prime example of rebellion against his authority

there's nothing in the show that concretely proves he knew

especially since a lot of it relies on knowing about what happened with caleb and evelyn, which once again, is left with a lot of wiggle room

like we don't even know if philip actually knew evelyn's last name at all, or if he knew of her or about her long enough for that

when that stuff is all pretty vauge it's just yeahhhhh

if we are to assume Philip knew evelyn was pregnant he would have to be AWARE caleb has witch decedents probably, but he wasn't in power till 50 years ago, so i don't also see how he could keep an eye on caleb's entire family line either for 400 years

also also, maybe philip went after evelyn and said kid, maybe he just...gave up after caleb died and moved onto other things (It's still not even clear how evelyn got his door after all, if we are to assume it's evelyn's doing, because the door appears to be post caleb death)

(Look, i've been over this a few times, this timeline kinda doesn't really make sense, i'm kinda not convinced the crew planned out a proper timeline of events for the wittebanes because there are things that currently kinda don't make sense)

yeah idk, it's kinda left more up to your interpretation, like if you see belos as knowing nothing really proves you wrong

but yeah, nothing proves it right either, philip had plenty of other established reasons to single out lilith and eda outside of that concept.

i don't think it would of made any difference nonetheless, like maybe if philip saw his niece/nephew as more human then witch there could of been a dynamic of him thinking he could "Fix" them, but on another hand philip is shown to not trust anything and anyone who isn't a human like him.

The guy is very much been brainwashed by how he grew up to believe everything he doesn't understand is trying to manipulate him and hurt him, and i don't think any family he may have in the clawthornes would make him see witches differently

honestly i wouldn't be shocked if in his mind, evelyn and caleb having a kid to him is like a demon stealing someone he held dear to use for offspring because of how deluded he is about this stuff

granted, that also depends heavily on how you think philip assumes about the situation, him believing caleb was under a spell and him believing Caleb did everything of his own will have DRASTICLY different implications about why he did what he did.

so yeah, if you're to ask me this is all more of the same "This is kinda supported by canon but is also kinda not" stuff that is kinda all over the wittebane backstory in general

if we ever get that wittebane backstory, they have a lot of clear up here because there's a lot left to interpretation and it's kinda why people have very drastically different opinions on how aspects of this character were handled.

guy should of been destroyed at the end no matter what of course, but

people seeing him as a more tragic unredeemable villian doomed from the beginning due to growing up in extremism as a child and no guidance to pull him out of it so he just got worse and worse, and people who see him as just an asshole who never cared about his brother and was perfectly capable of getting out of his brainwashing is very much a result of leaving a lot of this stuff kinda up to interpretation

[trashisstillhere]

Guess whose parents I have just designed? (And didn’t feel like cleaning up, do better line art and colouring along with shading for yet?)

Yeah that’s right, it’s New Ninja’s!!! Meet their big workaholics yet loving mother and father!!

I still am trynna work on some stuff, I’m even planning on redesign Randy’s parents in my headcanon as we speak, also gonna do my own version of First Ninja’s family too, like I think of them alot in my head but barely drawn anything out so I wanna do that too really much hehe- yeah I got a lot to do.

Aaanywaysss. Let me tell y’all a bit about these two!

-NN’s parents are often really busy at their jobs so they can barely get to hang out with their child because of it, the only times they kinda get to interact more often are in the weekends but other then that, NN is often left home alone.

-just like everyone else, they don’t know that NN’s the ninja. And they don’t know about their relationship with Randy as their mentor and good friend either.

-just like their kid, they don’t have any names neither yet lol. Coming up with names one of the hardest parts of making ocs. For now, let’s just call them NM (new mom) and ND (new dad). Yeah I know it’s a little bit weird but until I finally can think of something for them, these will have to do.

-NM is a Japanese woman with sectoral heterochromia who works as a therapist! If you’re wondering what kind of therapy she does, it’s mostly behavioural. She’s almost very soft spoken, genuine and really wants to do her best to help people with their issues, including her own kid. However, she barely knows much about the shit her poor child goes through right now with their current life, she doesn’t know about NN being the ninja after all.

Most of the time, the people she work with in therapy sessions are usually normal but there are times that she has met some who seemed to struggle after being STANKED. Yes you heard right, some of her patients are stanked victims! A few past ones during Randy’s time as the ninja and now a lot more in the current time with NN now being the current one, those kinds of patients are kinda a whole other story.

-ND is an American man who works as a doctor! He is pretty skilled in a lot of things at his job, surgery is one of them. He’s more calm, serious and strict. His voice is kinda like monotone and very deep, a lot of people who sees him at first glance and hear his voice might think he’s quite cold but that’s far from the truth. He’s just a man who takes his job seriously, he also has a soft spot, mostly for his wife and child.

Like NM, he also has no clue about the struggles NN has right now. However, he did have his suspicions. He couldn’t talk much about it due to being so busy in job tho but whenever he has time, he’ll always make sure to tell the kid that if they ever need someone to talk to, they can talk to him.

-now back in their high school days together before NN was even born, they didn’t really know that much people other then themselves. They were high school sweethearts.. however, ND did actually know one guy the whole year. They weren’t like bffs but they did know each other very well so they were close and even now as adults in the present, they still interact sometimes, maybe even get some tea or coffee if they have time and aren’t busy. They went to different universities back then but that did nothing to their pretty nice bond.

You’re probably wondering who this ‘guy’ is and if he’s even important or just a random oc I made up…well he’s actually a canon character from Rc9gn. Yes, he is actually in the show. So who is it??…

……Willem Viceroy III.

HeheheheheHEHEHEHE- no I am not explaining this, ya gotta figure out yourself! What I will say tho is that yes, this will have an effect in NN’s story. 😏

——

And that’s about it!

[whyarewecalledtheshipname]

rambled this before but MAN that riku is paralleled to terra who's dad was so extremely aligned with Light that he basically nearly fell to darkness/evil out of his /extreme/ intolerance of it??? Eraqus who totally doesn't remind me of MoM??? GUH RRAHH

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

idk if it's because my mum worked in a tv magazine or what but all the media wars and backstabbing and stuff happening behind the cameras is so so interesting to me

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[all4yoi]

𝒥ust a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ︎︎⚹︎ cw: angst, no fluff (yet), reader is mostly viewed as a loser and nerd, lowercase intended, kinda went overboard with hoon's, reader gets called a bitch once, not proofread!

sypnosis﹕after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.

part two !

★ LEE HEESEUNG (wc 0.3k)

you and lee heeseung has been dating for a total of five months, and throughout those months you can confidently say that you were the happiest. he was the perfect boyfriend, his family loved you and so did yours.

today, heeseung promised he would take you on a date after his basketball practice despite your protests on how he should be resting instead. you wouldn't have agreed if it weren't for the fact that he had shot you with his pleading big doe eyes that never fails to make you agree on whatever he asks for. 

so here you were, making your way towards the gymnasium with your bag hanging on your left shoulder. the lack of dribbling and smacking basketball noise from behind the closed doors told you that their practice was done.

entering quietly out of habit, you were about to approach your boyfriend when you overheard his teammates talking to him.

"don't tell me you're still with her?" asked one of boys, an amused smile on his face. heeseung only raised a brow.

"what? you won the bet, you can dump her now. you're ruining our image you know? plus she's a total nerd and loser, you're much better with someone like yunhee." and with only just a few words, you felt your world crashing down.

right, who would date someone like you? you always found it weird, that heeseung just approached you one day in your biology class with the cheekiest smile on his face. the fact that he wouldn't leave you alone until you've agreed to go on a date with him. it all made sense now, why the popular basketball captain suddenly gained interest on the school's "biggest nerd."

"speaking of.." another guy spoke, nodding towards you with a cheeky smile. heeseung turned around only to be met with your glassy eyes.

you didn't move, wanting to hear him defend you. wanting to tell his teammates that you weren't a bet and he actually liked you throughout the months you two have been dating.

his silence said everything and with that you turned away and ran out of the gym.

"shit." he muttered, running after you.

★ PARK JONGSEONG (wc 0.3k)

"i'll pick you up later, okay?" your boyfriend of almost a year said softly through the phone. you've been dating jay since the first week of your first year in uni, others found your relationship weird. maybe because back in high school, jay never and refused to even spare you a glance. he was an asshole who looked at you as if you were the epitome of disgusting.

but the past is in the past now, right?

"okay baby, see you." you reply and put your phone down on your table, knowing that he's usually the one who ends the call.

you go back to the papers scattered on your table. the silence in your room was disturbed by sudden noises in your phone, turning to look, you see that jay hasn't ended the call.

picking your phone up with a smile, you were about to call out for him but a voice stopped you.

"i can't believe you've gone this far dude." you recognized the slightly muffled voice, it was a friend of jongseong's.

"what do you mean?" your boyfriend grumbled. the audio was muffled, you figured he was moving and the phone was in his pocket.

"you're still dating her!" the voice exclaimed, as if amused. "seriously, i didn't think you'd take that bet seriously. fine you win, i'll clean your car for a month. but you've gotta cut it out, you're starting to disgust me." the boy laughed.

before you could hear what your boyfriend would say, you ended the call. your hand was trembling and tears were falling from your eyes unconsciously.

were all those months just a joke to him? were your feelings really worth a free car wash for just a month? were you that unworthy?

jay was an asshole back in high school, you thought he changed. turns out he didn't, you felt like a fool for falling for his antics.

★ SIM JAEYUN (wc 0.3k)

if someone would be asked who you were, they'd all say the same thing. a loner, pathetic loser, and a nobody with a pretty face.

because what was a pretty face if you had no friends and a social life?

you almost believed you would die alone, you were too socially awkward to make friends. so when sim jaeyun, the transferee, approached you with a warm smile and a hand outstretched for a shake, you were beyond shocked.

your relationship went from being block mates, friends, then next thing you knew you two were dating. at first you were reluctant to enter a relationship, scared that it would ruin your friendship, but he insisted you both tried. that was three months ago.

you didn't have any friends, but atleast you had jake.

jake who smiles at you as if you had carved the stars in your hands. jake who would never forget to bring your coffee every morning. he was everything you ever needed. he was it for you, you only hoped he felt the same towards you.

walking through the hallway of the school, you stopped infront of your locker only to be met with a sticky note on it.

HOW LONG CAN JAKE LAST WITH LOSER L/N?

A WEEK : 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - III

FIVE MONTHS : 卌 - I

A YEAR : II

Furrowing your brows, you stare at the note as your breathing grew heavy. It was obvious that the paper was old, it had folds and it was only stuck on your locker with a washi tape.

"what are you doing l/n? go on, cast your vote." a mocking voice said from beside you followed by a bunch of laughter. "personally, i thought he'd last a day. i guess i'll vote for five months then." then the hand went and tallied on the five months category.

"what's going on here?" upon hearing your boyfriend's voice, you fled away immediately, not wanting to face him. everytime something good happens in your life, it's always ripped away from you. jake was just like them, you were just a toy for their own entertainment.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (wc 0.5k)

"i'm sorry baby, i really am busy with practice tomorrow." your boyfriend, sunghoon, says in genuine sorry. it was the fifth time you have asked him to meet your parents, who also by the way was so desperate to meet the boy you've been dating for seven months now.

every time you ask him, he's always busy. either with practice, a project, a family matter, or whatever excuse he can come up with. but you always brush it off, knowing he means well and he really is busy as he's an athlete student.

"i'll meet them next week, okay? i promise." that's also the same thing he says everytime too, and once again, you only nod in response.

you and sunghoon met in a physics class. he was clutching his head with a frown on his face as he desperately tried to understand what the professor was going on about.

you remember clearly the way he approached you in the library, a physics book on his left hand as his right scratched his nape. "can.. i noticed- uh, can you help me with this topic?"

that was where your relationship started. you tutored him and helped him improve his grade. when he got an A on the finals, he kissed you on the lips in glee. he was taken aback by his own actions but nevertheless asked you out after.

"i love you," he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. "let me get something from my room." you hum in response as he takes his arm that was previously wrapped around you before going up to his room.

you can't help but notice the way his phone was blowing up from beside you.

you weren't the type to snoop around other people's phones, especially your boyfriend. it just felt wrong, you trusted him fully. but the way it kept ringing with text notifications, you just couldn't help it.

looking back to the stairs, you note he isn't back and there was still rummaging noises from his room.

taking his phone, you enter his passcode and read the messages from one of his group chats.

JONGSU

lol don't tell me she asked again.. em ba rrah sing

DAEHYUN

hahah when is she gonna take a hint?? 💀

JOON

you gonna blame her? hoon's been at it for months lmao

DAEHYUN

i actually can't believe he went that far, wasn't it only supposed to be for a month? ��

JONGSU

a week actually, but ig that bitch y/n was so easy. yk hoon likes to get his ego fed 💀💀

putting the phone down, you exhaled in disbelief. you took your bag from the floor and threw it over your shoulder and went to the door of his apartment to put your shoes back on.

"baby?" sunghoon emerged from the stairs, looking at you curiously. "you're going already?" he asked, extending an arm towards you but you slapped it away. the tears on your eyes shocking him.

"hey, hey what's wrong?" he tried again but his hand was yet again slapped away.

"i don't want to see you ever again." was the last words you uttered to him (shakily) before leaving his apartment.

[logansdoll]

hammered

you get a little too turnt during girls night, and logan comes to your rescue.

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, Logan's your white knight, Ororo's gettin lit, men are creeps, you're actually drunk as a skunk, etc.

"You guys got together?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Ororo gasped, loudly, sitting up straight in her seat.

Your brows furrowed, eyes widening at her volume, a few passing party-goers sharing concerned looks.

"Say it louder. I don't think the rest of the city heard you..." you grumbled, face burning as you took a sip from your strawberry daiquiri.

She sat next to you on the little leather couch situated at the back of the club near the bar, which had began to trickle with activity.

The three of you had been there for only about thirty minutes, the buzz of the night starting to pick up, the dance floor packed with dancers and drinks flowing.

And the eyes, still staring.

"Ignore her, (n/n)," Jean smiled, kindly, as she rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I think it's sweet you two took it at your own pace. It shows how serious you both are about this."

The three of you were having easy conversation, drinking and gabbing about whatever came to mind, when you and Logan were suddenly brought up.

And Ororo nearly died of shock when she found out you two were official.

"And speaking of seriousness... I believe we have an audience..."

Another group of three in particular, whose gazes were piercing you and your friends from across the way.

The three intense pairs of eyes belonged to three men in their best designer.

They each had their own outstanding feature: the tallest one sitting on the right had long, black hair, while the one on the left had arms roped in tattoos and lip piercings, the final one having a buzz cut and a snaggle-toothed smile.

Their lustful stares all but ignored by the two sitting next to you, your mind preoccupied with downing your second daiquiri that soon turned into a third.

You barely paid the men any mind, already knowing a man ten times hotter than all of them combined.

You actually missed him a whole damn lot.

You both were supposed to have a date night, but he got called last minute to round up Rogue and her friends who were causing havoc at some far off arcade.

So the girls dragged you out to the club, much to your protest.

'The kids just had to choose tonight of all nights...'

Ororo scoffed, gulping down another jell-O shot, "Waiting on him to come?" she chuckled, the flashing club lights making her light eyes sparkle.

You flushed in your mini dress, feeling hot despite the blasting AC and your exposed skin.

"You'll be waiting a while," she sighed, crossing her smooth legs over one another. "I heard Scott over the phone... those kids are in serious trouble."

You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed that he wasn't there, resting his hand at the small of your back, giving you those lustful stares on the dance floor, and complimenting your outfits in his own Logan way.

You'd done so much to make sure you looked hotter than hot, too.

You had raided your closet and pulled out a short, backless mini dress that made your legs look longer and showed off the curve of your spine sliding down towards your ass.

You loved, loved, loved it—how beautiful the black fabric looked against your skin; how sexy it made you feel.

Not to mention it was one of Logan's favorites.

He'd torn it off you many times.

Combined with your stiletto heels, fresh mani-pedi, the perfume adorning your wrists and the back of your knees, and hair that gracefully caressed your shoulders, you felt like a damn vixen.

Ororo sat up, taking your hand in hers, "No sense in sitting around while you wait, eh?"

She smirked at you, mischief in her eyes.

"Let's dance."

You paused a moment, hesitant.

But in that instant, those three daiquiris hit you like a truck, and all inhibitions went out the window.

'Fuck it.'

You stood up, chugging the last of your drink before taking her hand.

"Let's do it."

Famous last words.

Smoothly, you glided your fingers up your body, swaying your hips in rhythm with the beat as Ororo danced with one of the men.

You two had been dancing so well, you called the attention of the entire club. And with you about seven daiquiris in, it felt as if the music was coursing through your veins and melding with your bones.

The men of the establishment were hounding you both relentlessly—Jean having escaped to the bar to strike up some friendly conversation with the bartender—and even with your inebriated state, you fought them off vigorously, smacking away hands and returning advances with a sharp tongue.

Though the novelty was beginning to fade, and the urge to go home had began to set in.

As if on que, your phone began to buzz, taking your attention away from your thoughts.

"Hold up! I'm getting a call!" you laughed. "I'll be right back, 'Ro!"

She gave you a wink before you went stumbling off the dance floor, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You decided to go to the nearest ladies' room, leaning against the wall where the long line started, before flipping open your phone.

You looked down at the caller ID, grinning to see the name of your favorite guy on the screen.

"Heyyyy, Logan," you sang into the phone with a drunk giggle.

"There you are," Logan let out a sigh of relief from the other side of the phone. "I've been tryin' to reach ya. I just finished roundin' up the kids and droppin' 'em off back home, so I'm free for the rest of the night if ya still wanna go out."

"Oh!" you chuckled, "Sorry!"

As you paused, Logan suddenly became confused.

"Where the hell are you? It's so loud, I can barely hear ya."

You placed one foot up on the wall, leaning your back flush against the cool tiles. "'Roro 'n' Jean took me to the club 'n' these guys tried to join us," you slurred. "Oh, they bought us drinks, too. And one said he liked my dress. He wasn't as good looking as you."

"You wearin' the backless one?" he asked, sounding intrigued.

You giggled giddily in response, finding humor in his quiet curse.

"Damn... ya had to pull that one out?"

"Oh, you should see me, Logan... I look gooood," you smiled, looking down at yourself. "But it's not the same... s'not as fun without you."

You lowered your foot back down to the ground and crossed your arm over your midsection, suddenly feeling cold and small.

"I miss you, Logan," you said, quietly. "Could you pick me up, please?"

His chest warmed at your tone, unable to fight the smirk on his face.

Despite the fact that you were absolutely sloshed, your mind still drifted to him, and even missed him when he was away.

It was adorable.

"Sure, sweetheart. Where are—?" "Wait!" you shrieked, a smile blooming on your face as you got quiet.

Logan cocked a brow.

'Huh?'

It was your favorite song.

"Logan! It's my song! I'll be right back!" you smile into the phone before hanging up, scrambling back to Ororo.

When you shimmeyed back onto the dance floor, she happily greeted you, moving in sync with the rhythm as you began your own moves.

"Oooo, what's that?" you asked, pointing at the glass she was holding.

It was orange and topped with ice and chopped oranges and strawberries, reminding you of a tequila sunrise.

"Want it?" she giggled, holding it out for you to take.

Which you gladly did, tossing it back lie it was water, humming approvingly at the taste as you licked the remnants off your lips.

The two men next to her were close to falling out from the scene.

"Fuck," one of them groaned. "Can you do that to me?"

You turned to them, brows furrowed. "Fuck off. My guy's gonna be here anyyyyy second."

Ororo gasped as she threw an arm around you, pulling you close to her perfume-soaked neck, "He's coming? That's great!"

You both cheered together, throwing your hands in the air as you continued to dance.

"C'mon," a man smirked from behind you. "What's he doing leaving a pretty lil' thing like you alone?"

Your face fell, expression annoyed as you turned to him, "Didn't I tell you to go somewhere? He's gonna show up sooon..."

The man had gotten closer, so close that you could see him lick his lips, expectantly.

He scoffed, leering down at you under the strobe lights, "But he ain't here, is he?"

"I wouldn't put money on it, bub," Logan replied from behind him.

Your eyes lit up like stars as soon as you laid eyes on your dark, handsome bodyguard.

He stood there behind the man with his thick, leather-clad arms crossed over his broad chest, which was covered by his white tee.

And he looked less than pleased.

"Logan!" you smiled, moving to stand by his side like a magnet.

The man turned to face him, watching as Logan snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"This is the boyfriend?" he laughed, amused.

His words hardened Logan's expression tenfold, and it took everything in you not to giggle.

"Yeah, I am. And why the fuck are you still here?"

His words forced the man's expression to meld into one of frustration, and you bit back an amused smile at the sight.

You were drunk out of your mind, but you knew better than to interfere.

The man swallowed thickly, "I was just—"

"Harrassin' my woman."

You felt your heart flutter at the nickname.

He'd been calling you that for a while, but somehow it always felt like the first time.

"I didn't know she was yours—"

In a flash, his Logan's fist was up, his claws were on display and right in front of the man's face, scaring the shit out of him.

"I don't like repeating myself," he spat, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Fuck. Off."

You both watched the man scatter, eyes wide as he scrambled toward the bar.

Damn.

'What a bitch...'

"You alright?" Logan asked, taking off his leather jacket as he glared around the room, taking notice of the other leering men on the dance floor. "This place is full of fuckin' sleazeballs."

You shrugged, running a hand through your hair, "Eh, I managed."

Wordless, he handed over his jacket, your nose wrinkled in confusion.

"What's that for?"

"You're shivering, (n/n)."

You looked down at yourself, realizing that you were, indeed, shivering.

"Oh."

"C'mon," he sighed, draping the jacket over your shoulders before resting his hand at the small of your back, steering you toward the exit. "I think that's enough fun for one night."

Glancing back at Ororo, he gave a small look, slightly concerned.

"Scott's on his way for you two... You gonna be good?"

"Tipsy, but okay!" she gave him a thumbs up, along with a little wink. "Have fun, you two!"

He ignored the innuendo, but nodded, going back to ushering you out the back door.

"I missed you, Logan," you confessed, a slight whine to your voice as you practically clung to him.

"I know you did, sweetheart," he sighed, approaching one of Cyclops' cars. "Let's get you home."

The moment you hung up the phone, he sped over to the club, breaking about fifteen different traffic laws in the process.

An annoyance he decided to deal with the next day.

Without warning, you grabbed him, shoving him up against a wall of the alley you were in, interlocking your fingers as your free hand traced mindless shapes in his chest.

"You look so good, Logan," you purred, eyeing him up and down with hungry eyes, heating him from the inside out. "So good."

Suddenly, your lips attached to his neck, lazily peppering the flesh with kisses and pecks, with the occasional nip.

"(n/n)... you're drunk," Logan stated, moreso for himself, as he weakly tried to pry you off.

"I'd do this anyway," you grinned into his skin, pulling back to look at him, gaze half-lidded. "You look so sexy..."

Slowly, your lips curled into a hazy, loving smile, your eyes staring up at him like he was the only thing in the world.

Fuck...

You'd think he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

'This woman's gonna be the death of me...'

"What's wrong?" you asked, lips pouty and eyes glassy as you looked up at him, your expression one of hurt. "You're not touching me..."

"Doll," he sighed, voice slightly strained. "As gorgeous as you look... and as much as I wanna pin you against this wall... you're fuckin' hammered. And I'd like to feel you up when you actually know what yer doin'."

He pulled back to see your reaction, only to find you were already out like a light, softly snoring and drooling all over his shirt.

A soft smile fell onto his lips at the adorable sight, the man brushing some of your hair out your face before scooping you up in his arms, pressing a long kiss on your forehead.

'Somethin' else...'

[simonsrileyhusband]

requested on dm, nsfw:

you fidget with the case of your phone as you wait for simon to arrive, you politely nod and smile to your coworker who wouldnt leave you alone, his mouth never shutting and his unwanted flirting still going, even when you have told him multiple times that you have a boyfriend. (one that could break every bone of his body if he wanted to)

"so, where is that boyfriend of yours?"

"on his way..."

"maybe he left you sweetheart, i could take you home if you like~"

you take a step to the side, trying to be as far from him as you could. a smile forming into your face when you hear the loud engine of simons bike parking infront of you.

"sorry lovie, traffic got bad."

you dont say anything, just rush into his arms that wrap around you immediately, he is scanning the situation, his eyes landing on that guy you keep bickering about, his blood boils and he sees him stare at you, if he could he would punch him in the face until he can't smile amymore... but he likes visiting you at work, so he has to think of something else.

"lets go home~"

simon helps you put on your helmet and makes sure your arms are wrapped properly around his torso.

the ride home is nice and quiet, and once you arrive he holds your hand all the way to the apartment. once he closes the door he will take off your jacket, put down your backpack, make you lay on the bed, take off your shoes. his body on top of yours, leaving sweet kisses on your face as his hands rub your waist.

"why so lovey-dovey simon?"

"wanna make you feel good... let me, please"

you nod and kiss his cheek, his bulky hands unbuttoning your shirt, taking it off gently.

"you are mine, you know that, right?"

"yes simon, is everything all right?"

he growls into your neck, kissin and bitting on it.

"mine, mine, mine..." he will whisper as he leaves red marks all over your neck and chest, his hands cupping and gripping all over your body.

"ill make sure he doesnt bother my baby anymore" down went your pants and underweare, simon made sure to make you feel good... really good, he didn't stopped until you were a mess under him.

the next day, when he dropped you off at work, he took off his helmet, grabbed you by the waist and kissed you infront of your (shitty) coworker, your pretty cheeks red, and a little hickey picking over your button up, a proud smirk grows on simons face when you wave at him as you enter the building.

his loving stare and smile drop to a killer gaze, staring at that excuse of a man until he runs into the building.

[inmyheaddd]

loving you forever can’t be wrong - rafe cameron x reader

summary: your ex has been non stop texting you for weeks, and you tell rafe. then he leaves as you fall asleep to go ‘handle some things’ warnings: mild language, sweet!rafe (to you atleast!!), mentions of cuts and blood wc: 1.5k

another notification came from your ex, insulting you in one paragraph, then begging for you back in the next. 

as rafe sat on the couch next to you typing away at his phone, you pulled your bottom lip through your teeth anxiously as you thought on what to do about the situation, ultimately deciding on speaking up.

you cleared your throat —a nervous habit, before calling out. “rafe?”

he hummed lowly in response, signaling he was listening as his eyes stayed glued to his phone.

swallowing thickly before speaking, you said,“there’s this guy who keeps bothering me— well, it’s my ex, and i keep blocking him, but he keeps finding ways to text me.” 

you would’ve found the way his head snapped up so quickly at the mention of a guy, more so your ex, in any other situation hilarious. but nothing really felt funny right now.

“what the fuck?” his attention was fully on you now, as that angry glint in his eyes reserved for his fights began to reappear, along with that oh so familiar clench of his jaw. “bothering you?”

“yeah like, texting me and stuff and calling m—“ 

he clicked his tounge, visibly frustrated as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “nah, what? let me see this shit.” he motioned for you to come closer, and you placed your phone in his hand as you sat next to him, bringing one knee to your chest and hugging it. 

as he read through the messages, you told him the multiple stories on how many times you’ve blocked this guy, how many accounts he’s made, and how you never even respond to him. 

his tounge poked the inside of his cheek as he tried to keep his anger in check, shaking his head and scoffing in disbelief, even laughing at the guy. 

“the fuck?” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the messages, seeing just how far they went back. “he’s been texting you for weeks? how pathetic is this fucker, huh?”

you simply pursed your lips in response, shrugging as rafes eyes flickered between yours and the phone.

his eyes slightly narrowed, then came the question, “why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

you weren’t really too sure, if you were being honest. you truly believed the blocking would’ve put him to a stop, but the messages only kept getting more and more aggressive. 

“well, i thought that he would stop, and, well, i don’t know…” you trailed off, your voice getting quieter as your eyes flickered to the phone, then back to rafe. “he just didn’t.” 

his jaw ticked as he heard the way your voice slightly quivered, and you could’ve sworn his eyes almost softened, but who were you kidding? this was rafe cameron you were dealing with. 

“listen, next time, you tell me first fucking thing when anyone’s bothering you, alright?”

he pointed a finger at you as to further get his point across, and you let go of your knee, sighing as you did so. 

“rafe i’m fine, i promise.” your voice involuntarily pitched higher towards the end of the sentence, coming across as a whiny child more so than the grown person you were. 

“alright?”

you opened your mouth to speak, then shut it again as he raised his eyebrows at you expectantly, his finger still pointed. you nodded, mumbling a small, “yeah, alright.” 

there wasn’t any room to argue. 

he mumbled under his breath as he resumed scrolling through the messages, a thick vein becoming prominent in his neck. “there won’t be a fucking next time, after i’m done with this sick fuck.”

“what?” 

he didn’t take his eyes off the phone, then he smiled, and the only way to describe that smile was wicked. “nothin’, baby.”

—

you were drifting in and out of sleep off watching shitty reality tv, cuddled up in your fuzzy blanket. you faintly felt rafe come up to you and press a kiss to your shoulder before he got up and left, causing you to stir awake. 

when you were fully awake, and realised he had left, you texted him countlessly, worrying where he was. he didn’t respond until 2 hours later with ‘handling things’ and ‘open the door baby’. 

you instantly hurried to the door, anticipating what you were going to see behind it. your breath hitched as you opened the door anyways, as rafe stood infront of you. his chest rising and falling heavily, his knuckles bloodied, and a slight bruise forming on his jaw — it was nothing you hadn’t seen before from him, but your heart still dropped every time. 

you couldn’t manage anything but a whisper as you brought a hand to your mouth, “oh my god, rafe.” 

he side stepped past you, running a hand through his hair as he kicked off his shoes. standing there, he looked like the complete opposite of you, with his disheveled clothes and sweaty skin. 

your hair was freshly blow dried after the shower you took to calm yourself down, still smelling like your shampoo, and your face was in a complete frown.

you knew what happened, but that didn’t stop you from asking anyway as you stepped towards him. “what did you do?”

“nothin,” he said, with that same smile from earlier as he brought a hand up, stroking your hair as he looked down at you. “you’re real pretty, you know that?” 

you sighed annoyedly as your lips took on a slight pout, but you leaned into his touch nonetheless. “rafe.” 

“what?” he replied in the same tone as you, you’d say he was mocking you if you didn’t know any better. 

he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he stepped even closer, your head slightly craning up. “baby, c’mon, don’t look at me like that.”

clearly you weren’t doing a very good job at hiding how worried you were. 

“what if you got hurt? or- or if he called the cops or something? you need to be careful, rafe.”

you tried not to worry, to just let him do his thing, and be all laid back, but it was so hard when he came back to you all bruised and bloody and acted like nothing happened. 

he let out a low chuckle, but there was no humor behind it— more like he was trying to make light of the situation.

“the cops can’t do shit. i know what im doing.” when you didn’t respond, only sighing as you broke eye contact and looked at the floor, he clicked his tounge, pulling you in close and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

you couldn’t wipe the pout off your face, but you moved your arms to wrap around his torso. 

“ ‘m sorry,” he mumbled into your hair as he gently swayed you side to side. “won’t do it again.“ 

you laid your head on his chest. you knew that he did this every single time, but a small part of you wanted to believe it anyways. 

“promise?” you asked.

“promise.” 

you lifted your head up from his chest to look at him, and you couldn’t help the tiny smile that formed on your lips. 

he chuckled at just how fast your mood changed, running a hand up and down your arm. “that happy, huh?” 

you didn’t answer, only looking down as you smile widened. when you looked down, you saw his other hand with its beat up knuckles, and remembered the whole reason you were worried in the first place. 

you unwrapped your arms from him, carefully picking up his hand with the both of yours, wary not to touch any of the cuts.“oh my god,” you muttered, “we need to get that fixed up.”

—

rafe sat on the closed toilet lid, as you stood in between his legs. you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration as you wiped down his cuts on his knuckles with an alchohol wipe. 

“you know, if you didn’t get into a fight, we wouldn’t have to do this right now.” you murmured, your eyes flitting between his hands and his eyes. 

he clicked his tongue, “he was askin’ for it, talking to my girl like that.” 

you said nothing, only looking at him briefly, as you moved to his other hand, which was evidently worse than the one you had just done. he took a sharp intake of breath as you gently wiped his over cuts, turning his head to the side and clenching his jaw. then he blew out a breath, almost like a whistle.

you immediately stopped your actions, placing your hands back to your side as you went to get a better look at his face. “i’m sorry, are you okay?”  

“yeah,” he breathed out as he looked at you,  and he nodded forward slightly, motioning for you to continue. “jus’ keep doing your thing baby.” 

you managed a small smile in response, resuming but attempting to be even more careful. 

after a couple beats of silence, you spoke. “you better not split these open, and have us sitting here again.” 

you tried to sound serious and warning as you put a band aid on some of the bigger cuts, but rafe only let out a breathy chuckle at your words.

“you sure you don’t like doin’ this?” 

“that’s…” you bit back a smile and avoided eye contact, but you knew rafe was somewhat grinning. “that’s not the point.” you were finally done now, and your hands fell back to your sides.  

“yeah, you’re funny, alright.” he let out another one of his laughs before he stood up, wrapping an arm lazily around your shoulders as he steered you both back to your room. 

[strawberri-blonde]

Iron throne - Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: you celebrate team black winning the war by giving the heir a much needed gift (basically giving Jace head while he sits on the iron throne)

Warning : Lots of smut

Author’s Note: I’m super proud of this one guys!!!!!

Masterlist

Laughter echoed through the dimly lit halls as you pulled your husband along the winding corridors leading to the throne room of the Red Keep. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows on the ancient stone walls. “Y/n, what are we going in here?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and amusement. The grand, imposing doors of the throne room loomed ahead, promising an adventure within the heart of the castle.

You nodded to the guards, who had been informed hours earlier that you’d be bringing the prince here. You might have fibbed a bit, saying the new rightful queen had given her permission (and you might’ve bribed them with a little bit of gold, perks of being the princess and wife to the future king). Queen Rhaenyra had won the war less than a month ago, and you wanted to celebrate with the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Relax, my beloved," you giggled, opening the door to the Iron Throne. The throne stood before you, a menacing structure forged from a thousand swords, with jagged edges and twisted metal that symbolized immense power. "It’s just that ever since your mother took her rightful place as ruler, we haven’t had time to truly celebrate." His beautifully sculpted face showed of curiosity.

"I’m not quite understanding, ābrazȳrys." His whisper seemed to echo in the large room, but you maintained your cunning smile, excited for what was to come or whom. wife

"That’s alright," you said, your soft hands reaching out for his. Your heart blossomed as he took your hands in his and raised them to his lips. "Oh Jacaerys, you’ve always treated me like a queen." He smirked, kissing your skin again. You pulled his hands to your lips, mimicking his act of affection. "And I know this war hasn’t been easy for you or anyone, really, but the way you’ve presented yourself..." You paused to drag him over to the Iron Throne. "Was so honorable, noble... strong." You whispered the last part, knowing that every time he heard the word, he thought of his birth father, which still left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Your war strategies were far from princely. You acted as a king in the making."

"My sweet wife," Jace whispered, his voice trembling. Even in the dark, you could see the tears welling up in his eyes, glistening like tiny stars. He gently cupped your face, his touch tender and reverent. "I don’t deserve you," he murmured, his voice breaking with emotion as he gazed into your eyes, his love and vulnerability laid bare.

You immediately shook your head and motioned him towards the steps of the Iron Throne. “No, it is I who doesn’t deserve you,” you insisted, your voice firm yet filled with affection. As you guided him closer, the cold, unforgiving nature of the throne contrasted sharply with the warmth of your touch, emphasizing the depth of your bond.

"Impossible," he said with a playful grin. You giggled again and gave him a gentle push until he stumbled back and fell into the throne of swords, the metal clinking softly as he landed.

His eyes widened, and he immediately started to get up, but you placed a hand on his chest and pulled something up from the floor. It was a cardboard crown, meticulously crafted with painted details and shiny foil, resembling his grandfather's crown—or rather, now his mother’s.

“Y/n?” His voice was full of question as you plopped the fake crown on his head. “What are you—” Jace was cut off by your lips pressing against his. Nothing about the kiss was sweet or simple; it was full of hot need. His hands went to your cheeks while yours fisted his tunic.

"You are the queen's heir, my prince," you smirked as his eyes dropped to your lips, craving more. You happily obliged, licking his bottom lip and slipping your tongue into his mouth, moaning as he sucked on your flesh. You pulled away, hands reaching the bottom of his shirt. "You'll be my king, and as your future queen, I swear to you that there will never be a day where you aren't worshipped by me, your highness."

Jace’s eyes widened in sheer amazement as you lifted his shirt over his head. He eagerly pulled you closer, his hands cupping your face, as he guided you into a fervent, passionate kiss.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. Yet, he ignored his own warning, kissing the corner of your mouth before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to your neck.

A sinister smirk curled your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing your husband to explore your neck with his eager kisses. "Don't worry," you whispered, the words drifting through the chilly, echoing chamber. "The guards have been paid off to alert me if anyone approaches, and I have a handmaiden rising extra early to tidy up any evidence of our indulgence."

Jacaerys drew back, his gaze locked onto yours. "You’re truly extraordinary," he said, his voice filled with genuine reverence.

"Only for those who truly deserve it," you replied with heartfelt sincerity. As you gracefully slid off his lap, you stood before him, your delicate fingers tracing a path down his bare chest, savoring the contours of his toned body. "And you, Jace, deserve the world. I intend to give it to you." You paused at the waistband of his pants, your fingers lingering on the button. "Now, let me show you how I’ll care for the future king, shall I?"

Before you could kneel in front of him, your husband grabbed your bicep to stop you. "At least use my shirt and pants as a cushion for your knees, issa ābrazȳrys." My wife

You hummed softly, then leaned back in to give him a gentle kiss, then felt the fake crown slip from his curls knocking against your head. The delicate touch of his lips sent a shiver down your spine. "Always the gentleman," you whispered against his mouth, your breath mingling with his. "Se bona’s skoro syt nyke’d zālagon se vys ilagon syt ao." The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment of unspoken promise and fierce devotion. And that’s why I’d burn the world down for you

Locking your eyes solely on him, you helped Jace out of his black silk pants, readjusting the decorative crown on his head. Then once he was freed from his clothes, you let them pool at his feet to use them as a cushion as you knelt in front of him. "Sit back, husband," you teased, pushing at his toned chest down to his abs, just above where his cock rested. Even in the seemly light room you could see the glistening tip as it slightly bounced in the air, begging for attention. "Let me worship you."

You grabbed his shaft firmly in hand, running your palm up and down the length, savoring the soft moans escaping his rosy lips. You smiled up at him as he sat back in his rightful throne, the one he would rule one day, and parted his legs, giving you more room to work with. Shifting closer, you spit down on his glossy head, circling your wrist from his tip all the way to his base, then leaned down to apply open-mouthed kisses to his thighs.

Jace's head arched back against the throne, his eyes locked on yours, pupils blown out with lust. "So pretty," you moaned against his skin, continuing your strokes and sucking on his fair skin, intending to leave marks for him to remember in the days to come. "All mine, my king."

"You were sculpted by the gods," he said, his voice rough and his hands fisted at the armrests.

"Hmm," you hummed against his thighs, kissing up until you reached his cock. You kissed the red tip, then licked a broad line from his balls back to the uncut tip of his shaft; tapping it against your tongue before indulging by taking it into your mouth. You moaned against his girthy size, sending vibrations along your wake. "It seems as though you were gifted heavenly yourself, husband."

Jace cursed to himself as you took him fully into your wet mouth, bobbing up and down, only managing to take him halfway in. You jerked the bottom half while your other hand fumbled with his heavy balls. "You're too good at this, my queen." Heat pooled within you at his praise, making you bob faster, wanting to please him.

Drool spilled from your mouth as you let him out with a pop, then sucked along the side of his shaft, tonguing his thick, protruding vein. You sucked back on the tip, moaning around him, making his right hand fly from the armrest to the top of your head, guiding you to sink your mouth back down until he reached deep in the back of your throat. "So fucking good, my love. Taking me so well."

Your eyes stayed locked on him as you ran a hand up his thigh, tracing his clenched stomach until you reached his nipple, pinching it. "Holy," he muttered, his eyes beginning to shut and his hips buckling under your touch.

When he bucked his hips, his cock slipped further into your mouth, making you choke, and you loved every second of it. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked, panicked. You only pressed your hands down on his thighs, sinking your nails into his skin, and took him deeper, allowing tears to form in your eyes. You swallowed around him, causing incoherent words to spill from his lips.

You pulled back slowly, a glistening trail of saliva covering his entire mound and dripping down to soak the front of your dress. The sight was mesmerizing, the slick sheen catching the light as you panted, lips parted and eyes locked onto his.

Without thinking, you pulled your gown over your head, leaving you in nothing but your lace underwear and ankle lace socks. "Don't worry about me, dear prince." You squeezed the head of his cock, paying close attention to it, knowing it was the most sensitive, much like your clit. "If I were to choke to death from giving you pleasure, then I'd die a happy woman."

Jace let out a forced laugh, but it was cut off by a moan as you leaned back down to take his balls in your mouth, inhaling his natural musk mixed with the scents of lavender and bath salts. You loved the way he smelled; it was intoxicating.

You shook your head slightly, your tongue and lips still working over his sack, savoring every moment. As you pulled away to press soft kisses against his thighs, you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. "Are you enjoying yourself, my love?" you whispered, your voice laced with desire.

It was undeniable that the prince was lost in the pleasure you were giving him. His eyes were dark and blown out with lust, his gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made your heart race. The veins in his arms stood out starkly, a testament to the tension coursing through his body, while his chiseled abdominal muscles were clenched tight. His lower half trembled with the sheer force of his ecstasy, a testament to the overwhelming sensations you were creating.

"Don't tease me, my future queen," he growled, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. Your lips curved into a wide smile, knowing exactly the effect you had on him. "You know what you do to me." His painfully hard length brushed against your lips, evidence of his desire, as his hand caressed your cheek tenderly, the contrast between his touch and his need making your heart race.

"I know," you admitted with a sly smile, licking his tip before trailing your tongue down to his balls and back up again, savoring his taste. "But what would really make me happy is making you cum on your rightful throne, my future king." Before he could respond, you took him entirely into your mouth, beginning to bob up and down his length with unrelenting passion.

"Y/n," he moaned, slipping his hand back into your hair to help guide your mouth up and down his shaft. His grip tightened when your hand twisted around the base and the other cupped his sack, giving them a little tug. "My wife, I'm so..." he dragged out. "Close." You didn't let up.

Nothing could make you stop. Seeing Jacaerys' face scrunched up in bliss, his eyes staring down at you, as you pleased him on the Iron Throne was intoxicating. A literal dragon would have to drag you away before you stopped.

"I'm—" his breath hitched in his throat as you slurped and sucked on the tip of his cock, jerking the rest. "Fuck."

His hips bucked as his cum shot into your mouth, and you greedily continued. His salty essence was the best thing you had ever tasted, and you lapped it all up, even as his cock began to soften just a bit. Finally, when you felt like you got every last drop, you looked up at Jace with a cheeky, toothy smile.

"For you, my future King Jacaerys Velaryon," you said, slowly standing up despite the ache in your knees. His clothes had barely cushioned them, but his blissful expression held your attention. The kiddish fake crown slipped down, covering his eyebrows and pushing some of his brown curls into his face. Gently, you pushed the crown back up and brushed his hair aside, gazing down at him with nothing but love in your eyes. "I will always bend the knee."

Why do I always get obsessed with characters who die. Like I truly contribute to my own downfall. Mental health who???

~ Caroline

[auroralwriting]

his little finger

spencer reid x fem!hothead!reader

part two here

spencer has you wrapped around his finger; you'd do anything he said without question. your team can't quite understand it. little do they know you and spencer have an unsaid.. thing.

warnings: reader has a hot temper? is that a warning? | words: 1k short but sweet!

You were known to have a confident personality. You never let anyone shake you, that's why the team loved you so much. You were the sole, beating heart of Aaron Hotchner's team; you never let them give up. Not only, but you were kind of a badass. You knew how to profile amazingly, and you could hold your own if an unsub got a little too rough.

Something else you were known for? A hot temper.

Okay, maybe it could go a little bad sometimes, but you truly meant well. Like that time you accidentally made a teenage boy cry. To be fair, he was a potential unsub. He actually was the unsub, so not all was a total failure.

Today was different for you. The coffee shop you frequented before work was closed due to issues with the electrical systems. That put a chip in your day. How was one to thrive without coffee? Next, you forgot your badge at home, making you late for work since you had to retrieve it to even get into the building. That put a dent in your day.

Derek was known to be a funny guy. Not the kind of funny guy you'd actually laugh at, but the kind who kind of pissed you off sometimes. Yeah, that kind. While he meant well at heart, it just royally pissed you off. You couldn't help that!

You leaned your elbows on the table, listening to the coffee pour into your cup. "Hello my little fox," Penelope greeted, her face frowning when she saw the look on yours. "What's wrong?"

"Bad day so far," You muttered. "Everything's just going wrong."

"It's only seven," Derek said as he walked in, smile on his face. "Come on, sugar. Go on and sit down at your desk. I know how you like your coffee." You thanked Derek quickly as you went to your desk. It was right next to Spencer.

Oh, Spencer. The boy who fell hard for you, who made you fall for him. Neither of you knew that, though, your crushes remaining secret still. "Y/n," Spencer frowned, "what's wrong?"

"It's alright, Spence," You forced a small, pathetic smile. "Just a bad morning."

Spencer gave you a half smile, "Positive attitudes actually give you a higher likelihood of having a better day by ten to thirty percent," Spencer rambled, "and that actually is the same for social connections, being a twenty to forty percent. You're on the right track."

You loved Spencer's rambles. They were adorable. "Thanks, Spence." You smiled.

A few minutes later, Morgan came to your desk with your coffee in hand. "For you, sugar." He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. You quickly took a generous sip.

It left your lips quicker than it entered. You spit it out into the trash can next to your dest, face turning sour at the taste. It was so bitter, so salty. "What the hell, Morgan?!" You cried out, "What is this?"

"Salt, sugar." He teased.

Your face turned hot, "How old are you, six?" His face slowly fell as you became angrier, "Genuinely, how old are you? Because last I checked, children don't have jobs."

"Hey," Derek tried to calm you down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to actually upset you."

"Oh, of course you didn't!" You replied with sarcasm dripping from your lips. "You just don't get when people don't want you to make them feel worse!"

Derek's face fell into a frown. You didn't mean to hurt his feelings, but you couldn't stop your words. "Y/n," Spencer said firmly, "Sit down, now."

Before you could even think, you followed his command. The whole event caught Penelope, Emily, Rossi, and JJ's attention. JJ was quick to rush over, grabbing your coffee. "I'll get you the right one, it's okay." She comforted as Emily quickly lead Derek away. Rossi and Garcia decided to mind their own business, smart.

You groaned, head in your hands. Spencer was quick to kneel by you, taking your hands into his own. "Y/n," He said softly, "Take a deep breath. I know, I know." You followed his instructions, inhaling and holding it like he demonstrated, softly letting it out after. "Good job, sweetheart, do it again for me, okay?"

After a few more times, your face cooled off. You closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."

"I know, he knows, too." Spencer assured. "He knows he was out of line. You reacted the same way anyone would. It's alright."

Spencer raised his hand to your face, softly brushing your cheek with his thumb. JJ walked over, unsure if she was ruining.. something?

"Hey, I got you your coffee," She hesitantly spoke. You looked up, reaching out quickly.

"Thanks," You mumbled, taking a cautious sip. When you realized the taste was right, you took a bigger sip, sighing at the warmth flooding down your throat.

Spencer gave you a small smile, "See? It's okay now."

You nodded with a smile, thanking him softly. He went back to his desk, re-opening his report. You did the same, clicking your pen open.

"Okay, now what the hell was that?" Derek asked, the previous team members crowding around Rossi's desk.

"I felt like I was walking in on them," JJ mumbled awkwardly. "The tension was so strong I thought it was gonna slice me clean in half."

Emily smiled, "I bet they're in love or something, only love can make a person react like that. She would've bitten anyone else's head off." Everyone mumbled in agreement.

"I bet two weeks," Rossi said after a moment.

"Nah, knowing Reid, it's gotta be more like three." Derek shook his head.

Emily laughed, "I bet a week and a half. Y/n's too badass to not admit it first."

"I don't think they ever will until we do for them." Penelope sighed, knowing how stubborn both individuals were.

"I say one week, solid." JJ nodded. "I felt that tension."

Hotch's voice came out of nowhere, "Four days."

Everyone turned around, shocked. "Hotch, you sure about that?" Derek asked, a slight tease in his voice. "You know them."

"I do," He nodded, "Four days. You'll see I'm right."

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ IS IT OVER NOW? (IT ISN'T) ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: all good things come to an end, including your relationship—but don't worry, broken hearts can be mended, but only if you're both willing to try.

contents: fem!reader. you two break up and make up! you guys fight/break up over something that coulda been resolved with better communication. kinda suggestive ending, maybe i'll drop a part two if this does alright. satoru announces your break-up on his stream. longest fic i've posted so far, 4k words (kms).

author's note: the long awaited angst has finally arrived.. big thank you to @screampied for beta-reading!! tagging @yunymphs who read it early and @sutorus + @kentopedia who i both miss very much!!

ever since you first joined satoru on his stream, it’s gotten way more popular than either of you could’ve ever expected. before he brought you onto his live, he was averaging about eight thousand views per stream. now, his average was well over fifteen thousand—and that wasn't even including the publicity he got from other websites. when satoru accidentally left the camera on while you two made out, you two went viral on twitter. and when another user tried to swipe him away, the clip got over a hundred thousand views on youtube.

at first, satoru didn't mind the change his stream was going through—in fact, he welcomed it. but lately, things have been… different.

last week, while satoru was playing in some competition, he won first out of hundreds of equally proficient players. had it been anyone else, their comments would've been filled with congratulations and good job's, but in his case, all satoru got were messages asking where you were. that wasn’t the first time—ever since that very first day, when you showed up on his stream, satoru’s audience has entirely shifted. and honestly, if you were in his position, you'd be a bit annoyed. anyone would be. 

but you had never expected that it would be so big of a deal that you and satoru—the "cutest couple on the internet"—would break up over it.

you walk along the chilly, suburban sidewalk up to your boyfriend’s house. satoru had just sent you a message asking if you could come over, and like always, you answered with an immediate yes. a flock of crows fly by, raven feathers providing a stark contrast between them and the pale gray sky around you. it’s gray and gloomy, but not unpleasant. 

a sweet, romantic song plays in your ears as you knock three times on satoru’s front door. his familiar voice calls out “coming!”, and you can hear his footsteps grow louder and louder until he swings open the door. satoru smiles down at you, cheeks already rosy from the cold winter air. “hey.”

you tilt your head and smile back at him. “that’s all i get? hey?” you huff, walking into his living room behind him as the door closes behind you. “d’you have any hot chocolate? i’m freezing,” you say, licking your lips. satoru turns and pauses, an unreadable expression on his face. “satoru?”

after a moment, your boyfriend snaps out of it. “oh, yeah, sorry,” he says ruefully. satoru rubs his eyes with one hand and uses the other to open the door to his bedroom, and as you follow him in, you’re hit with a blast of warm air. “i’m just kinda tired, but yeah, i have some hot cocoa in here. c’mon.”

“anything i can do for you?” you offer, sitting down on the corner of his bed. you’ve been to his house so many times that it feels like home—maybe even more so than your own place. everything about satoru’s room is comfortable, from his plush chairs to the faux-fur blankets draped over every single piece of his furniture. you could probably fall over at any given point and it wouldn’t actually hurt—you’d just land on something soft and/or fluffy.

but that wasn’t all that made you so in love with his home. it was just the way it felt—words couldn’t describe the way everything was just so right and just so perfect, and you really did hope that you’d never have to see a time where you wouldn’t be able to spend time with your boyfriend here.

it really is a shame that all good things had to come to an end. at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as satoru finally told you why he called you over. unlike nearly every other time, it wasn’t because he missed you or wanted to cuddle—it was quite the opposite, really.

“i don’t think this is working.”

six words that shattered the life you had come to know and love.

“is this a joke?” you try, an unnerved smile spreading across your lips against your will. he doesn’t reply instantly, which is so out-of-character for him that it makes you stiffen up. “satoru, this isn’t funny—”

“i’m not kidding,” satoru murmurs, looking away. he refuses to meet your eyes, and some part of you is still desperately trying to find reason in the chaos that’s slowly taking over your mind. how could it be that everything was just fine two minutes ago and now it’s anything but that? did something happen? did you say the wrong thing? did you—

“it’s not funny,” you insist, still somehow clinging onto your slowly-dwindling hope. maybe you’re in denial, but still, you were sure that everything was fine—no, that everything is fine. there was no past-tense, right? how could the glass home you’d built with your bare hands just crash down at the throw of a pebble?

satoru finally meets your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat. there’s no amused glimmer in his eyes, no “just kidding” in sight, and even worse, you can’t even see an ounce of the love or adoration you’d come to grow so attached to in just a couple months.

“what happened?” you whisper, miraculously managing to keep yourself together. you’d never forgive yourself if you just started crying over a breakup you weren’t even sure was happening—what little’s left of your pride is holding on. you allow yourself to wrap your arms around your chest, curling into your own embrace. 

satoru doesn’t reply for a long second. right when you’re sure he just won’t reply, he does, and it all comes spilling out in a messy stream of words. “it’s just… i can’t do this anymore. i can’t keep going online and seeing everyone on my stream talking about you. i love you, i really do, but it’s just—” satoru shakes his head frustratedly. “i don’t know how to say it, but you know what i mean, right?”

your eyebrows furrow and you shake your head. “you’re breaking up with me because you’re tired of seeing me?”

“no, fuck,” satoru groans, running a hand through his hair. his previously cool and collected demeanor starts to fall apart as he takes a step back. “i don’t know how to explain it, but— shit, you wouldn’t understand.”

you swallow and start to stand up, still willing to try. “then help me understand, satoru, i—”

“you’ve seen the comments, and you’ve seen all the posts on twitter,” satoru says, tilting his head back and glaring at the ceiling. “it’s not your fault, but i really just can’t stand everyone disregarding me and turning my own stream into a youtube channel starring you.”

his words sting like alcohol in an open wound, and you fight the battle of your life to prevent the thousands of tears hiding behind your eyes from being visible. even so, your voice wobbles ever so slightly as you say “that’s a bullshit reason to break up, satoru—”

your boyfriend—is he even still your boyfriend?—scoffs and shakes his head, stumbling back and falling into his chair. "for you, it isn't. you wouldn’t understand. for me, it's like everyone's just... invalidating the three years i've spent on this shit. and i can't do it anymore, i just can't."

you blink slowly, backing away towards his bedroom door. "what does that mean?"

satoru exhales a bitter laugh and turns away, the back of his chair facing you. you think you can hear him take a soft, shaky breath as the room falls silent. neither of you make a sound before satoru turns back toward you, a blank look on his face.

he looks up at you, azure eyes devoid of the sparkle you've become so familiar with. satoru smiles sadly, but to your dismay, there's no real emotion behind it. it's almost like he's already accepted it when he says, "it means we—" he pauses and looks away. "this is over."

you reach out toward him, desperate to hold on to him—to the invisible string that ties you and satoru together, but he's just out of your grasp. "satoru, it isn't even that big of a deal, why are you—"

satoru turns and fixes you with a stern glare, and just like that, the string that kept you and satoru together for months, maybe years snaps, and you're left with a limp strand of what it once was. taking the hint, you walk out of his room in a daze, hardly noticing the way he says "i'm sorry".

and the worst part? he said he still loved you. but apparently that wasn’t enough.

satoru has every right to be annoyed that his stream is only growing because of you—his stream was the way he made money, and after all, it was never meant to be about you. 

and maybe he was never meant to be for you either.

the walk home is cold and lonely. you slip a hand into your pocket—the pocket of satoru's hoodie, which you should probably return to him—and extract your earphones. it probably isn't a good idea to wear both outside as you walk home, but you do it anyway—this day can't possibly get any worse.

a soft voice murmurs words of sorrow and encouragement in your ear as the music takes you to another world. maybe this—the breakup—was meant to happen. maybe it was a mistake to date a boy with thousands of fans.

as soon as you get home, your phone dings softly. you pick it up and frown when you see it's from toru. you'd have to change that name later.

toru: idk if u blocked me already but i still have a lot of ur things, do u wanna come pick them up later?

toru: or i can drop them off tmrw ig

you miss the way he used to text you—with an obnoxious amount of exclamation points and an even worse amount of emojis. now, it's like all of the flavor's gone from his words, and it hurts. that's when it actually settles in, that this is really over. it hurts like an icicle being driven straight through your heart, and it stings like one, too.

satoru's texts are left on delivered for five whole minutes before you reply, and it's only with an "i'll come by tmrw". he likes the message less than a minute later, and you're left to wallow in your misery alone until you finally drift off to sleep.

the next morning, you open your phone to a notification alerting you that satoru’ll be live on stream in ten minutes. curiosity kills the cat, but in this case, maybe it’d be worth it to see what he tells his viewers about your breakup. after all, there’s no way he wouldn’t tell them—he always had something to say about you, and he’d probably rather tell them for sure rather than let them come up with ridiculous theories on their own.

so you hastily make a new account using some email account you haven’t touched since middle school, trying a couple different passwords until you remember the one that works. the website hits you with a hundred questions, asking you about your favorite games and who’d you like to subscribe to first. you choose satoru, albeit after a second of hesitation. two minutes later, sparklingzebra672 joins your ex-boyfriend’s stream. you wait a second, holding your breath as the live loads. a brief moment later, satoru’s painfully familiar face appears on your screen.

“hey guys,” satoru says, forcing a smile on his face. even from behind a screen, you swear you can feel his eyes on you. “how’s everyone today?” 

the already unstable smile on satoru’s face falls when he opens the comments and gets greeted with a flurry of where’s your girlfriend’s. had you been anyone else, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way satoru’s eyes dulled ever so slightly or the way he curled into himself, but being the girl who once knew him best, you could tell.

“oh, she won’t be back on here for… a while,” satoru starts, dancing around the topic. he leans back against his chair and tilts his chin up, azure eyes focused on the ceiling. “we broke up.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way satoru’s comments explode. it’s almost like you can hear the shocked gasps coming from all fourteen—no, twenty thousand viewers as the words nobody thought would ever they’d hear from satoru are spoken.

suguru-geto: holy shit im so sorry 

toji-fushiguro: wait wtf r u kidding?? that's fuckin crazy

yuuji-itadori: omg i thought u guys were together forever :(

inumaki: chat is this real??

satoru shrugs, averting his eyes from the hundreds of comments pouring in, but you scroll through and read them all. everyone, even satoru’s haters, seems genuinely shocked. in fact, had this not been your own breakup, you would’ve been one of them, begging and pleading satoru for more details.

“yeah, we did,” satoru murmurs, eyebrows furrowing just enough for you to read his expression. now that you’re looking closer, you can see the subtle redness underneath his eyes—had he been crying too? and maybe you’re imagining it, but his hair seems a bit dishelved too. your ex-boyfriend shrugs, forcing his face back into his usual lighthearted expression, but it’s not fooling anyone.

satoru scowls at the new flood of comments asking him why you two broke up. some people are already hypothesizing—maybe it’s because you got jealous of his fame, or maybe he got sick of you. maybe you left him to go date some other streamer, or maybe—

“i’m actually gonna end the stream here, ‘cause i don’t really want to deal with all of this right now,” satoru says with a frown. his eyes are narrowed irritably as a couple users protest, still begging for more details. “you guys know that i’m a real person with my own life, right? fuck off.”

and just like that, the stream ends. you’re left with a blank screen and a message saying that satoru’s ended the live, so you shut your laptop. your stomach turns as you groan, just remembering that you have to go over to his place later to retrieve your things, and somehow, you’d have to pretend that you didn’t just stalk his stream to see if he’d say anything substantial about the breakup.

a couple minutes after the stream ends, your phone blows up—every mutual friend you and satoru have is messaging you about what he said, but you can’t bring yourself to open any of them. except for one.

suguru: r u ok?

you: yeah ig

suguru: do u want anything?

satoru’s best friend’s question catches you off-guard—there are a lot of things you want. you want this whole situation to go away. you want the world to disappear. and most of all, you want satoru back, without the online world attached.

but suguru can’t do any of those things, can he? so you leave him on read. 

somehow, you fall back asleep, tossing and turning in your bed without satoru’s steady arms to accompany you. a couple hours later, you wake up again, wincing from the dim sunlight that pours through your windows and directly into your eyes. it’s just past five, so you figure that you might as well go down to satoru’s house and get your things. better to do it now than drag it out for an uncertain amount of time.

the walk is shorter than you remember, but maybe it’s just the absence of music pouring into your ears that makes it seem that way. you watch the wilted autumn leaves flutter in the wind, falling down onto the sidewalk like pieces into place. once upon a time, you had walked these very streets with satoru—it’s a fond memory you remember only all too well.

when you finally step onto your ex’s doorstep, the door opens before you even have a chance to knock. and there he is—the boy who’d once been the love of your life. satoru looks down at you with an unreadable expression. “hey.”

you think you’ve seem this film before, and you didn’t like the ending.

satoru spares you from having to reply by opening the door wider and beckoning you inside. “i already put most of your stuff into a couple boxes, but i thought you’d wanna check on your own. just in case i forgot something.”

you nod and walk past him, not trusting your voice to be steady. this was harder than you expected—much harder. in fact, you’re practically on the verge of breaking down when you step into satoru’s room and look around and see just how different it looks without the touches of you everywhere.

the fortnite poster you’d given him as a joke for the second anniversary of his stream was gone from his wall, and so were the two mini succulents that used to sit on the corner of his desk. the white cat plushie that used to rest on his pillow was gone, too—probably stuffed somewhere in one of the boxes outside his bedroom door.

after nearly a minute of looking around, you decide that whatever satoru possibly could’ve missed wasn’t important enough for you to have to stick around any longer.

you turn and start to exit satoru’s room so fast that you nearly crash into him when he suddenly appears in the doorway. “shit, sorry about that,” you mumble, trying to walk around him. but of course, because the universe is actually praying on your downfall, you and satoru both walk the same way at the same time. you awkwardly try to go around each other, and eventually, the humiliation is over.

“so, you got everything?” satoru asks, walking beside you with his hands in his pockets. you nod, bending over to pick up one of the two boxes. it’s pretty heavy, but not unmanangable. you just don’t really seem to know if you’ll be able to carry both back home at once. 

“oh, uh, i’ll be right back,” you say tentatively. a flash of confusion appears in satoru’s eyes, so you clarify, “i’m gonna go grab my car. that’ll make it easier.”

satoru’s eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “no, it’s alright. your place isn’t far from here at all, i’ll just take the other and walk back with you.”

“no, really, it’s alright.”

“it’s the easiest option, ba—” satoru cuts himself off, stopping himself from calling you baby for the first time since you two had started dating. “sorry.”

“let’s just go.”

the walk back to your house is brutal. you walk side by side with satoru since the path is wide enough for you to do so, and you two just keep bumping into each other. had you still been dating, satoru probably would’ve dropped the box and scooped you up instead, kissing your cold face to warm it up. of course, that would’ve added five minutes to your walk, but it would’ve been better than the tense silence dividing you and satoru right now. 

the wind whistles around you, brushing at your skin and making you shiver with every gust—there’s nothing more you’d like than to go home, plop on your couch and cry while watching the titanic for the hundredth time. 

after what seems like three hundred awkward hours later, you and satoru finally make it to your house. “thanks,” you say quietly, setting down your box in front of the door. 

satoru places his next to yours and slips his hands back into his pockets. he nods and replies, “no problem,” but still doesn’t leave.

you cross your arms, and tilt your head, meeting his eyes hesitantly. “umm, do you need anything else?”

satoru coughs tensely and shrugs. “oh, uh, not really, just—” his eyes drift down to your top, and your face grows warm when you realize you’re still wearing his hoodie. 

“shit, my bad,” you mumble, internally cringing and resisting the urge to say every curse word you know. could this day really get any worse?

well, at least satoru looks equally as embarrassed. he shakes his head and gestures for you to keep it on. “it’s fine, it’s kinda cold anyways. keep it.” satoru hesitates, shuffling his feet before continuing, “if you want something… to remember me by.”

what you say next was done entirely against your will. “do you still love me?” you ask suddenly, not sure what otherworldly force prompted you to do so. you instantly regret it when satoru’s face goes even redder, and you can tell it’s not from the cold the way his blush spreads to his ears.

“i— uh, i mean—”

“answer me, satoru, i think i have a right to know.”

he looks away and mumbles something about needing to go back home, to feed his fish or something (he doesn’t have a fish), and you grab his hand just as he starts to turn away. “please, satoru, i need to know,” you breathe, squeezing his hand harder when he flinches. 

ten silent seconds tick by, but you still don’t let go. so satoru sighs, a soft white puff of air coming from his lips. “yeah.”

your heart breaks again.

“then why did you—”

“because i don’t know how to do this,” satoru says, blue eyes darting all over the place. “i love you, i really do, but i just can’t— i don’t like having thousands of people thinking that i’m only worth looking at if i’m with you, it’s annoying and it pisses me off and i don’t want to accidentally take it out on yo—”

you cut him off with a kiss, ignoring the way he yelps a little in surprise. but thankfully, he doesn’t push you away—instead, his arms instantly wrap around you and pull you closer into his warm, warm chest. satoru’s lips are a little dry, but still minty as ever from the peppermints he’s constantly munching on. he kisses you back like a man starved of affection, and when you two finally break apart, his eyes are just as hungry.

“you idiot,” you whisper, trailing your fingers through his hair as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “you shoulda just talked to me about it first.”

“i know,” satoru mumbles, looking down bashfully. “‘m sorry.”

“you should be.” you pause, watching satoru’s lips curve into a pouty frown. “i’m sorry too,” you murmur, and he looks up, confused. “i should’ve seen this coming.”

satoru shakes his head and presses his lips to your forehead, lingering for a couple seconds before pulling back. “i missed you.”

“i was gone for less than a day, satoru.”

“oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“i did,” you admit, exhaling a puff of air when satoru smiles smugly. “shut up, it’s not a competition!”

“yeah it is, but fine, you win,” satoru gives in with a dramatic sigh, reaching down and twining his fingers with yours. his hands, which are significantly bigger than yours, instantly warm you up. “but only ‘cause i don’t want you to break up with me next.”

“i hate you, y’know that?” you grumble, leaning into his side and letting satoru kiss the top of your head. he hums in agreement, reaching out and opening your front door. 

“i’m sure you do, baby. now c’mon, let’s get inside n’ warm up. i wanna make it up to you,” satoru says with a grin, bending over and scooping up both boxes. 

“oh, yeah? how do you plan to do that?” you challenge, going inside first and holding the door open for satoru. once he’s inside, you close the door and instantly get pinned against it by satoru, whose hands are already creeping underneath your clothes. “satoru, your hands are col—”

he cuts you off by pressing his equally cold lips to yours, smiling against your mouth as he tugs at your clothes. “i know, baby. but i’ll keep you nice n’ warm for the rest of the night, i promise!”

[sleepy-steve]

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I’ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

[incognit0slut]

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.