#there was more to be had in common in that sort of thing. hurting each other was just shooting yourself in the foot

[cryolyst]

~

[kitkatcadillac]

not to be dramatic or crazy controversial or anything but building walls and policies against the people around you based solely on what boxes youd slate them in before giving them the basic respect of them being people just like yourself first and then moving from there doesnt actually do good for anyone in any direction i think and its been Really Weird seeing the separatism get more and more intense and Righteous or whatever has actually been insane

[hotchscoffeecup]

“Power Struggle”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: M

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals

“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.

“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”

Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”

“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.

Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”

“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”

“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”

“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.

You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”

“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”

A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”

“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”

An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.

“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.

“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.

“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”

His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.

You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”

You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.

Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”

You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”

Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.

Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.

As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.

His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.

After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”

An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.

“A bar?”

“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”

“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.

“How do you want to play this?” you ask.

“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”

You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.

“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.

You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”

A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”

As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”

Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.

“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”

A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.

It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.

“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”

Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”

Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.

As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.

Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.

After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.

“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.

Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.

“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.

The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.

“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.

He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.

Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”

His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”

You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”

“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”

You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”

Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.

“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”

He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”

You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”

His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.

“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”

“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”

“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.

“Got it, I’ll be right there.”

“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.

You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.

Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”

As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”

Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”

You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.

As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.

“Aaron.”

•

When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.

Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.

Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.

Hotch.

The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.

“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”

You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.

A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.

You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.

He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.

“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.

“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.

With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.

He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”

When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.

“She wakes,” he muses.

You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.

“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”

You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.

He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.

“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”

You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”

You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”

“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."

“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“To be my Hera.”

“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”

“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”

He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.

“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.

Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.

It never lands.

Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.

Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.

“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.

Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.

“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.

Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.

“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.

You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”

Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”

You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”

And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

•

A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.

“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”

You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”

The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.

As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.

Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.

“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.

Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”

You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.

You smile, “Garcia?”

Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”

You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.

Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”

“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”

Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”

“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.

“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”

Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”

He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”

“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”

He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”

Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“

“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”

He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.

You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.

Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.

“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.

You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”

“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”

You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.

You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.

“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”

Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”

Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.

Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”

Morgan guffaws. “Months?”

Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”

“Safe to say the team knows.”

Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”

•

6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.

This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.

Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.

You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.

You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.

Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH

Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.

“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan���s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.

“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.

“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”

“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.

She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”

You sputter and choke on your coffee.

“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”

At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case

“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”

[cthonic-bunny]

1. personal synastry and composite experiences and observations

Do not interact if you are a minor. (18+)

Sun in 8th house synastry: I was the house person they were the sun. I definitely developed insecurities I never had before as a result of this connection. With the sun shining brightly on my insecurities, they were hard to ignore and even harder to not project them entirely on the sun. A lot of “you did this to me!” energy. I didn’t consider myself a jealous person until this relationship and a lot of it came from wanting to be “good enough” in the eyes of the sun person. It’s like knowing you have these darker aspects in common and wanting them to see you can bond this way and see them in a way no one can. You also end up pushing limits together. You liked this? Now WE love this. You’re addicted to that? Now WE are addicted to it. Moderation is hard to achieve with sun in the 8th house synastry. It can also bring up insecurities surrounding sex with that person specifically, if poorly aspected. Explosive reactions and emotional outbursts aren’t foreign here. The house person can feel like a vampire being sunburned, with all its ugliness revealing itself from its body because of its interaction with this person. The 8H person wants a full, in-depth analysis of the sun person’s thoughts, intentions, and motivations. The plutonic energy wants to completely envelop the sun, compulsively in some cases, to know WHY they are the way they are, and why the sun presents themselves in certain ways. This is especially true if the sun person did something to hurt the 8H person, who can feel it more than is rational. The 8H person can really struggle with getting over any emotional harm or feelings of abandonment that come from the sun person. The 8H person can potentially resent the sun person for not being able to read them as intently as they could read the sun person. The sex, if and once insecurities are worked through, can bring you so much closer to one another and to yourself. I also feel like any disturbances or intimacy problems between you two can easily be felt by others or there can be blow ups in front of people you know, because the sun is a planet that illuminates wherever the light lands, whether you like it or not. Avoid public fights, because you will kiss and makeup but the damage in other people’s eyes will be done and opinions will be made. The 8H person might be able to see through any facade the sun person puts up, and this could lead to deep discussions that could be extremely healing for the Sun who might have to work through some things. The 8H person can also teach the sun person how to make more money and maybe even encourage them to start their own business. They can be known as a couple that makes a lot of money together. The sun person can also give sugar daddy/mommy vibes and the 8H the sugar baby, even if it neither one of the people involved are rich-rich. This is a highly binding placement. You two might find it difficult or even impossible to separate from each other even if the relationship has run its natural course. You guys are known as the couple that is “stuck” to one another.

Moon in 5th house synastry: *weird* but, for those who have this placement with a significant other, do you love to smell their body odor? I think in the house of children and fertility, it makes sense to love your partner’s pheromones. Something as weird as the smell of their armpits or stinky feet becomes comforting, idk?? This house is also really fun, and you can get a lot of emotional fulfillment out of acting like children together. 5H is ruled by Leo, so I also found that we had a lot of fun putting on “shows” for one another, and sort of making up our own characters and accents to make the other giggle. People are also really excited for the prospect of us having children together, and you’ll have friends volunteering to babysit or be the godparent of your unborn children LOL. Dressing up nice and going out on dates to somewhere with a great ambiance can be a great way to feel connected. Sharing perfume, or gifting each other perfumes or colognes. Loving the scents they wear. Same taste in candles? Candles as gifts. Lots of watching TV together? Having “shows” that feel wrong to watch without the other. Being called pretty by the other means a lot, and being pretty in each other’s eyes makes you feel good.

Moon in 12th house synastry: 12H synastry tends to have an awful reputation, and I get it when it’s a relationship that isn’t meant for you. However, my moon falls in my best friend’s 12H, and it is one of my favorite placements of ours. We have a telepathic connection where we can just look at the other and know what’s up. You preemptively know what will bother the other person and find it hard to understand how other people wouldn’t have assumed that thing would annoy your person. You understand each other’s motives, and can provide the ultimate shoulder to cry on or ear to listen with. When it’s a new interaction it can feel a bit intense, because how are you in my head!!! I feel like you can read my thoughts! It was like that for the both of us. It’s like, when together, both our consciousnesses transported to another realm where we are mutually perceiving something and our thoughts are being put on a radio for the other to listen to. Very spiritual relationship. You KNOW the vibes, and those feelings will be verified through the other person who already felt the same. She will never be wrong in my eyes and I will defend her to the death. We don’t even have to speak on certain days, but we can feel whatever mood the other one is in and check-up on each other accordingly. Whenever we have a strange dream or nightmare, the first thing we do is text each other and try to analyze what it could mean. I as the 12H person also dreamt of us becoming best friends before we formally met. The dreams i would have of her would always be loaded with spiritual symbolism. We also grew up with the same level of emotional attachment to our personal spiritualities and shared religion, which plays a large role in our understandings of one another. Most people just won’t get it, but she always will. She could read my crazy journal entries if she wanted to. 12H moon synastry is just unconditional love. Between friends at least, it feels like a long-lost twin connection. Also, her and I had gotten matching tattoos before we even knew of each other, both of them being for the same spiritual meaning!

Composite Mars in 3rd house: Lots of talking during sex, and lots of car sex— It might sometimes feel like that’s the easiest thing to talk about, or the conversation always steers to that direction. Sending nudes? Sexting. Maybe the only way you two could engage your sexual desire for one another is through sexting, because distance might not permit the full physical expression. If you don’t have a lot of experience knowing the other’s communication style, it can lead to a bit of random defensiveness or perceiving the other as communicating abrasively. I think it can lead to one trying to get reactions out of the other by saying something out of pocket.

Composite Mercury in 12th house: Pay attention to the dreams you have of this person! They will seriously tell you a lot about your dynamic, but don’t take them at face value! Lots of mystical elements to your dreams about them specifically, so maybe reviewing tarot card meanings and astrology concepts can help you decipher the meanings of your dreams. You might find it easier than expected to confide in each other or rant about your brain’s inner workings together. “I don’t know why I’m saying all that-“ or psychoanalyzing each other for fun. Talking about your less-than-desirable attributes. Being honest about your deceptive tendencies or specific lies you’ve told and why. Oversharing things that will usually make other people uncomfortable in the same context (like talking about your exes or failed situationships on a first date). Difficulties communicating when it’s not in person because it leaves too much room for confusion. Deceit is a real possibility though, with someone voluntarily “leaving out details” about their life outside of the relationship to avoid ruining the flow of energy or the dynamic. Having each other saved on your phones under fake names. Having to hide that you’re talking to this person from other people. One of you withdrawing communication to manipulatively make the other think about you more. Taking turns being each other’s therapist. Thinking about each other often but never expressing that, or the extent to which you think of one another. Thinking about the other at night before going to bed. “I started catching feelings for the girl that I’m currently having sex with, so it’s safe to say we don’t talk anymore, unless of course we’re having sex” in Sasquatch .22 by Bay Faction.

Composite Venus in 12th house: There really is a secretive component to this interaction that can feel impossible to bypass. Your family, friends, or society might not “approve” of you two together. One or both of you can be cheating on someone with this person. Only being able to meet up or be affectionate at night or in extremely private settings. The privacy of the relationship can help you open up a lot more than you’d expect to, because there’s no one but you two to perceive the other in this context. No judgments on how you two should behave with one another, so “let’s fully enjoy the moment while it lasts.” No one understanding your interaction or it’s purpose, and you probably don’t understand it either. Sending telepathic love notes. Longing. Intimate and romantic sex that haunts you or catches you off guard. Never wanting to be the first one to admit you’ve caught feelings. Ruining your sleep schedule to spend time with one another. Dreaming about romantically linking with them before it ever happens. Withdrawing once feelings start feeling real. The song “Lips of Angel” by Hinder reminds me of Composite Venus in 12H. “Illicit Affairs,” “August,” and “False God” by Taylor Swift. “Why Can’t I?” by Liz Phair. Gato de Noche by Bad Bunny. Sex by The 1975.

Lilith in 8th house synastry: Wanting to try things sexually with this person that wasn’t necessarily exciting with other partners. “You can do whatever you want to me, and I’ll let you.” Possibly experimenting with or preferring BDSM with one another. That Lana lyric that’s like: You fucked me so good that I almost said “I love you.” It might also be controversial if people knew you’ve had sex with one another. Revenge sex? As in, you two having sex might indirectly be spiting someone else, and it kind of feels like you’re dishing out delicious karma on a surprising silver platter— “lol if only they knew” You two might have fun misbehaving together. Doing what you both know you’re not supposed to be doing can make everything feel better, and even more reason to keep doing what you’re doing. Lana Del Rey in Diet Mountain Dew: “you’re no good for me, but baby I want you.” Wanting to be dangerous together. “Leave me bruised so I can’t forget you.” “Seeing you tonight is a bad idea, right?” This placement somewhat reminds me of a union between the death card and the devil card in tarot, with an emphasis on risk-stained sexual liberation. You can become symbolic of temptation in each other’s lives, so it’s hard to deny your impulses. Toxic by Britney Spears.

-D 🖤🕯

[cyberl33ch]

Spring Fling💋

summary: Your roommate of a couple months decides to ask you out...kind of? What could transpire?

tw: smut MDNI, hopeless romance, drunk/tipsy sex, Abby is g!p, fingering & head.

pairing: G!P Abby x Inexperienced!Florist!Reader

Moving to Seattle wasn’t really the plan but getting out of your small town was exactly what you needed. Don’t get me wrong small towns are cute and everything's laid out for you but seeing the same old faces and going to the same old places gets tiring. And you can’t like getting away from the drama that your ex had caused was what you longed for. But having a hot roommate…you definitely did not plan for it.

Her name was Abby. She was very muscular with sort of a dusty blonde/brunette thing going on obviously the female definition of a dilf. She would go to the gym every morning which would leave you time to have the house to yourself in order to get ready for whichever job you were working. She also happened to pass by every time she was leaving the gym.

Sometimes she would come by and speak just to take a look at the fresh flowers that came in ever so often. You could obviously tell she had a green thumb the way she would cater to the ones in the apartment. Overall she was cool but that all changed randomly when she invited you out, even though you were quite busy with whatever shifts you managed to pick up.

The bell on the front shop door rings announcing someone entering. “Welcome to Bloomscape, what can I help you with?” You say putting down the spray bottle after watering the flowers behind the counter. You turn around to meet none other than Abby. Just your luck. “Oh hey Abby, the new peonies are out front if you’re-” “Would you like to go out with me?” She says, you realize her face is slightly red but you brush it off assuming she had an intense workout today. “Sorry with a couple friends not like…that.” She explains making you nod your head in understanding. Not going to lie that hurt a little bit. Like a slow jab to your heart. “Oh yeah sure…what time?” You question “Around 8pm you should be off by then right?” She asks. You nod your head and after working out the details she leaves rather quickly (and quite flushed if I do say so myself) not even looking at the peonies out front. Weird.

After closing up shop and making your way back to the apartment you walk in to realize she’s already invited her friends over to pregame. Assuming that’s what it was anyway you peek in the living room and say hello. “Hello!” You say as you wave at all 3 of them in the living room. “Oh shit- Guys this is the friend I invited out with us!” She says, gesturing for them to introduce themselves to you. “Hello, I’m Dina, these two shithead's friends.” One says pushing Abby's shoulder. “I’m Ellie.” Another quite attractive one says waving back to you shyly (if i do say so myself) “I’ll go get ready, nice to meet you guys!” You walk to your room and before you can even shut the door you hear Ellie saying that you’re “Smoking hot.” Smiling ear to ear you close the door before you can hear any further and start to get ready.

You walk out of your room and walk into the kitchen going in the fridge to search for a beer. When you feel a hand on your waist you jolt up meeting Abby. “Hey calm down darlin’.” She almost laughs out and hands you a beer knowing you’re searching for one. You take the beer smiling slightly, thanking her and closing the fridge. After an hour of pregaming you they decide it’s time to go to the bar. “Everybody set to go?” Abby questions looking at everyone grabbing her keys.

Hour 2 in the bar Dina and Ellie are the only ones looking groggy and soggy but you and Abby are having the time of your lives. You never knew that you and Abby had so much music taste in common. As the night started to grow older and older they started to play slower, more romantic music. You take your seat at the bar sipping your drink by Dina and Ellie who are both by now practically eye fucking each other.

You were about to go outside for a smoke when your thought was interrupted by a light tap on your shoulder. “Hey, do you mind dancing with me?” Abby asks with her face growing more red by the second. “Uh yeah of course” You smile. As soon as you two hit the middle of the floor she immediately puts her hands on your waist pulling you closer to her. You look up at her with big doe eyes and that’s when you start to feel the liquor finally hit you because she looks good enough to eat at this moment. She nuzzles your neck as your bodies practically become one. “I need you.” She whispers in your ear making you gasp which gives her enough time to slip her tongue into your mouth and take you in a devastating kiss.

As she pulls back from your lips you shoot her a confused look. “I thought you-” She shushes you putting her finger up to your lips. “Take a cab with me.” Abby demands taking your hand interlocking your fingers with hers as she makes her way through the sea of people on the dance floor. She gets up to the bar giving Ellie enough money to get a cab and pay for the drinks. As she reaches the outside she pauses for a moment taking in the cool spring breeze compared to the hot atmosphere of the bar. You’ve never really taken a moment to really soak in Abby’s features. Her hair which she rarely let down blowing with the wind. And oh gosh- her nose looks like you could ride that for days at a time.

You get so taken up in your thoughts you didn’t realize she was staring right back at you. “Can I have my face back?” She jokes you lightly jabbing her shoulder. “Jeez, I’m just joking…that hurt a bit.” Abby says pouting and rubbing her shoulder softly. “Aw, is the baby hurt?” You say mocking her pouting and rubbing your shoulder. “Yeah yeah whatever lets start walking weirdo.” She says rolling her eyes rather sassily.

Weirdo. Weirdo? WEIRDO?? “You want to talk about weird? Let’s talk about how you always treat me like a little sister and then randomly kiss me.” You sass back at her, narrowing your eyes as you two begin your journey back to the apartment. “I’ll do it again.” Abby treats this as if were a threat to your safety as she can’t seem to choose between looking at your lips or your eyes. “Whatever sass-factor!” You roll your eyes at her crossing your arms.

Back at the apartment you assume you two are just going to go your separate ways again like this never happened.“So…we just go our separate ways?” You mumble out just above a whisper as your vision starts to blur from tearing up. “What if we didn’t?” Abby says taking a step closer to you. “What if?” You accept the challenge, taking another step towards her. Abby pulls you closer by your waist and takes off your jacket for you, discarding it on the sofa. Followed by taking off her own and dropping it right by her feet. “What if?” She quirks an eyebrow staring straight at your glossy lips. After that she just couldn’t play this little game you were playing with her anymore as she takes you in another breathtaking kiss and lifts you up like you’re nothing.

You straddling her waist as she sets you down on the bed, her kneeling in front of you making full eye contact as she takes off your shoes for you. She looks up at you resting her hands on your thighs. “Do I have your consent?” Abby asks, peering into your eyes. God's consent is sexy. “Yes.” You nod. Abby follows this with sliding down your underwear and pinning you to the mattress, her on top of you. She then takes two fingers and taps on your lips asking demanding for entrance. “Suck.” She orders as you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around her digits.

“Good girl” She praises. She then takes them out of your mouth leaving a string of saliva as she lifts up your dress and starts to coat her fingers in your arousal and insert them up until her knuckles. The length of her fingers makes you immediately grab her wrist moaning. “Fuck! Abby…” You pant out as she starts to pick up the pace, shouting her name like it’s a mantra. “Thaaat’s it baby take it.” She affirms as the knot in your stomach comes undone faster and faster. “Gonna cum…” You mumble out making her grab your chin realizing she wants to see your reaction as you eat up the pleasure she was dishing out.

As you feel your release coating her fingers and your surroundings becoming more and more fuzzy by the second. You sit up seeing her licking her fingers clean making full eye contact with you. By the time her fingers are practically wrinkly from the hydration they were getting she turns you around and starts unlacing your dress. Grazing her fingertips lightly on the skin of your back. “Your skin is so soft…” Abby says just above a whisper.

She starts kissing you and leaving little love bites and marks that’ll surely bruise in the morning. You hear her start to strip behind you and just as she’s taking off her boxers you get a good glimpse of what’s to come. And you start to turn around and make full contact with her long, thick, blushed precum dripping shaft. More so gawking at it because she definitely noticed while taking off her shirt.

“You wanna touch it?” She asks, reaching out to grab your hand, as she guides your hand onto the base of it. “Don’t be scared mama.” Abby chuckles, still guiding your hand to slowly stroke it making her grunt. As she slowly softens her grip and lets you take control, throwing her head back in pleasure grunting loudly. She grabs your chin absentmindedly removing your hand and picking up the pace as her eyes sear into your soul as she motions for you to open your mouth.

Followed by multiple grunts and curses she finally releases ropes of herself onto your tongue. As you close your mouth and swallow the liquid. “Hands and knees” Abby demands with low lidded eyes. You follow her instructions in a daze as she grabs a hold on your hips, forcing you to arch your back. Abby cautiously slides the tip in after realizing how tight you were, grunting in pleasure as a response. “Fuuuck” She mumbles out her eyes closed as you squeeze around her length. As she takes her time inch by inch she eventually bottoms out. This feels good of course but she can hear you whimper as you taste the saltiness of your tears.

Abby slowly starts to pick up a steady pace as you start to reach back trying to slow her down as the tears come down more frequently. “Nuh uh baby you can take it” She says in between grunts swatting your hand away as you grip the sheets. As her pace quickens she pulls you up by your shoulder, taking that hand and wrapping it around your throat. She then takes her other hand from your hip and starts rubbing your sensitive clit.

Your eyes roll back in your head as she tops that off by kissing your neck, knowing by the way you were growing louder she knew you were close to your orgasm. Abby reaches an unimaginable pace and that’s when you feel it hit you like a tsunami. As you feel her warm seed fill you up and mix with yours you finally come down from the drunken, fuzzy high you two were in. You feel her pull out and the mix of you guys’ climax slide down your legs.

After you two showered together and put on pajamas you both lie in the bed, her spooning you. You’ve dozed off a while ago as she just admires your beauty in the moonlit room. Brushing the hair out of your face, she pecks your temple and dozes off along with you.

my masterlist

(tell me in my ask my anything's if you have a request!)

[arjwrites]

left my heart at home for you to hold- dean winchester x fem!reader

summary: leaving you is the hardest thing dean has ever had to do, but coming back home is the joy of his life.

warnings: none, fem!reader

word count: .9k

a/n: my first drabble for my 100 follower event! based on the song russell county line by 49 winchester (how fitting!) thanks for the request, i hope you enjoy!! <333

arj's 100 follower event

xxx

“I miss you, sweetheart.” Dean's words came out almost desperately. 

The giggling of your response through the phone speaker sent a pang of hurt through his body. He was so sick of being away from you. On hunts these days, Dean felt like he was just going through the motions. He used to enjoy hunting, at least to some extent. He felt a sense of satisfaction and purpose when he ganked the monster and saved the day. But ever since you came into his life, nothing satisfied him like you did.

“When will you be home?” Your sweet voice bounced around in his mind and he held tight to the shape of your words, imagining them in the shape of you. Sometimes, when his eyes darted up to check the rearview mirror, he would swear he could almost see you perched back there, nodding along to the music and throwing him a cheeky grin.

A few days was the answer to your question, though he didn’t like it very much. Hunts these days felt lonelier than ever, and a routine three-day hunt stretched into lifetimes apart from you. Of course, his brother was right there next to him, thumbing through newspapers and lore books. Sam would jump right into discussing this next case the second Dean snapped the phone shut. But he wouldn’t hang up just yet. He’d hang on to this little scrap of you for as long as he could.

The hunt would go on longer than expected, like they always did. Each snag in the road would enrage Dean. He was always desperate, needy, longing to return home to you. More often than not, Sam would catch him distracted. He’d be staring off into space while researching, or zoning out while interviewing a victim’s family member. He just wasn’t on his game. It was like he wasn’t fully there- a piece of him was always left behind, his heart all those miles away, tucked into your gentle hands for safekeeping until he returned.

Eventually, things would come to an end and the boys would emerge victorious- sweaty, tired, and often bloody, but nonetheless victorious. Before Dean had you, car rides after a successful hunt were full of classic rock sing-alongs and lazy diner stops. It used to be a common occurrence to stick around, hit the local dive bar, celebrate a little. These days, however, when the bodies hit the floor and the case was said and done, Dean put the pedal to the metal. The second their work was done, he was ready to hit the road. Sometimes, Sam would turn away to say goodbye and offer some comfort to a victim, and when he turned back around, like magic, their bags were all packed and Dean was already posted in the driver’s seat, revving the engine and honking the horn. “Let’s go, Sammy.” As they hit the open road, Dean would press his foot down, reveling in the growl of the Impala’s engine as they barrelled down the highway en route home to his girl. 

There was a familiar routine when Dean returned from a long hunt. You’d always have some sort of meal ready, no matter the time of day, knowing he would be returning tired and hungry. He’d stroll in dramatically, tossing his bag down and throwing some sassy remark like “Honey, I’m home.” When you’d run up to him all smiles, he would wrap you in a hug that radiated the genuine love you had been missing. He’d pepper your face with kisses, absentmindedly recounting stories of the hunt that seemed boring now. Once he had you again, back in front of his eyes and in his arms, nothing else mattered. 

In the days between hunts, when life was normal for as long as you each could manage, Dean wouldn’t leave your side. He’d follow you from room to room, lingering in your presence for as long as possible. His eyes were always locked on you, drinking you in. He couldn’t get enough. Most often, he was quiet. His love for you was strong, silent, reverent, yet ever-present. But there were always moments where the feelings inside him became too much. They bubbled up inside him and threatened to spill out uncontrollably. It was in moments like this where he attempted to turn his sentiments into words. 

“I love you so much, you know that?” Dean spoke from his spot next to you as the two of you washed the dishes from dinner. Your beauty made the mundane so fascinating. He could see your face reflected in the shine of the plate you were drying, capturing your form in a way that was so uniquely you, and yet, could never live up to the real thing. 

“I love you too, Dean,” you hummed in response, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you placed the final dish into the cabinet.

“No, seriously.” He wrung his hands, turning from the now-empty sink to face you. “You’re home now, kid. It’s always gonna be you. I hate leaving, but I’m always coming back to you.” 

You smiled, wiping your hands on your jeans before taking Dean’s. You lifted his arms up, wrapping them around your shoulders and allowing him to pull you close. There you stood in the kitchen, swaying gently to a song that wasn’t there, yet you both could hear it so clearly. It was as if you could feel your life together growing up around you, sprouting and blooming. This was home, where Dean would always return. And you’d always be waiting.

[leclerc-hs]

tachycardia! pt. 1 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated french, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.7k author's note: hi so this is the first part!! I'm thinking about turning this into like a "blurb" series, like i'll do a bunch of parts with them but they won't be toooooo long. emphasis on the LIGHT a/b/o dynamics because i am STILL leaning all about it but I'm sure the more I write the better with it I will get. I def will discuss more about it during smut scenes. let me know what you guys think and what else you would like to see happen between them!! don't be shy!!! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IT WASN’T HATRED, per se, but more so the fact that you both knew how to get under each other’s skin so easily. 

The amount of time it took for Doctor Leclerc to make some sort of asshole comment as you entered the doors of the hospital was little to none. It was almost a predetermined ritual at this point. So common that you should’ve been more concerned with the premise that he might’ve memorized your schedule just so it’s his face you see first thing every time you arrive to work. 

You had made a solemn vow to yourself long ago never to become romantically involved with a doctor. Any doctor for that matter. The allure of dating a doctor might have seemed appealing in theory, but they tended to exude an air of pretentiousness, rudeness, and arrogance that left a bitter taste in your mouth. 

Doctor Leclerc was what you would consider the living embodiment of this, a constant reminder of the vows you made in the first place. Yet, the fact that he was probably the hottest fucking man you have ever seen, made it hard to not want to blur the lines sometimes. His chiseled features and commanding presence were sometimes a magnetic force, no matter how much he annoyed you.

So, you wonder why, even as you’re leaned against the nurse’s station with an elbow propped on it, you can’t help but stare at the muscles of his back poking through his scrubs and white coat, as he pours a cup of coffee into his mug. His massive shoulders rising and falling as he picks the coffee pot up and places it back down.

-

“Did he say something to you?” You ask as you press a tissue into the hands of one of your co-workers, April. You didn’t know that well, but nurses stuck together regardless.

“I’m fine,” she says, but the tears welling up in her eyes, made you know better. “I just need to stop being so sensitive.” The words hang in the air, a fragile façade masking the turmoil within, and you recognize the weight of her emotions despite her attempt to downplay them.

“He must have been a proper douche,” you remark, the water from the bathroom sink running over your hands as you meet April’s gaze through the mirror. “What did he do?” Your tone carries a mix of concern and frustration.

Her hesitance to disclose wasn’t rooted in desire to withhold information, but rather in a reluctance to escalate the situation unnecessarily. Aware of your tendency to stand up to Doctor Leclerc, she treaded cautiously. You turned back around to face her, an eyebrow raised as if you’re saying spill the beans already.

“Well,” she begins, her grip tightening on the crumpled tissue in her fist, “all I did was ask if the symptom the patient was experiencing was a common side effect of the medication we prescribed her, just to be sure.” You cross your arms over your chest, you can feel the agitation growing in your chest. “He wasn’t mean in front of the patient, but he pulled me aside after and told me how unprofessional it is to be questioning in front of a patient.” Her voice wavers with a mix of frustration and hurt.

Your lips press into a thin line as she recounts the encounter. “He then told me that I should’ve paid better attention in school and then maybe I would know the answer,” she emphasizes, tinged with a hint of bitterness. The word “maybe” lingers in the air, weighted with insinuation, as if Doctor Leclerc’s implication stung deeper than mere criticism.

“What an alpha asshole!” you exclaim, your frustration evident in the forceful wave of your hands. “Don’t listen to him.” You offer her comfort, a smile of reassurance accompanying your words, a silent vow to stand by her side.

April’s lips curl upward into a small, grateful smile, her eyes softening as she murmurs a heartfelt “thanks”. In that moment, her expression speaks volumes, conveying both appreciation for your support and glimmer of relief.

-

You saw him before he saw you. 

As you step through the doorway into one of your patient’s rooms, a pang of exasperation washes over you, accompanied by the silent question of what you did to deserve this particular form of punishment. It feels like a cruel twist of fate to find Doctor Leclerc attending to one of your patients, whom had just recently had a coronary angioplasty and a stent placement. Despite the urge to roll your eyes, you summon all your professionalism and force one of the biggest smiles onto your face. It’s a façade of warmth and cooperation, masking the internal tension brewing beneath the surface.

There he stood, a figure of authority on the opposite end of the bed, his arms folded across his chest as he chuckled at whatever anecdote your patient shared with him. His laughter, though genuine, seemed to echo with a hint of superiority. You can’t help but notice the subtle flex of his jaw muscles as his head tilts back briefly. The sight of his scruff and the contours of his muscular neck send a tingling sensation coursing through you.

You need to snap out of it! You repeat to yourself, a silent mantra echoing in your mind. You were so preoccupied with convincing yourself that Doctor Leclerc wasn’t unbelievably attractive that you failed to notice the scrutiny of two pairs of eyes now fixed upon you. The sudden realization jolts you back to the present, and you redirect your focus to the patient.

You didn’t need to glance at Doctor Leclerc to sense the presence of a smirk tugging at his lips; it was almost palpable, a silent acknowledgement that he had caught you staring at him. Distracted by him. 

“Glad you can join us, mon lapin.” My bunny.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a flicker of irritation igniting within you. That forsaken nickname—he just couldn’t resist. Ever since your first day, when you innocently showed up with a tote bag adorned with colorful bunnies, he had taken great delight in teasing you with it.

“Ne m’appele pas comme ça.”  Don’t call me that.

The patient looked up at both of you, eyes full of delight in entertainment.

His verdant eyes look at you for a few seconds, contemplating something, before looking back at the patient. “I’ll make sure you’re out of here in no time,” he assures the patient, his voice full of warmth. “I just need to check your vitals, and hopefully we can have you out here in a few days.” His words are reassuring, delivered with a blend of confidence and empathy that contrasts with the earlier tension in the room. Despite your reservations, you can’t deny that he provides great care for his patients.

“How has your medication been? Still uncomfortable?” You inquire, while Doctor Leclerc listens intently to your patient’s chest with his stethoscope.

“A little bit,” your patient murmurs in response, pausing between deep breaths as instructed by Doctor Leclerc.

“I’ll make sure you get another dose of aspirin to help ease the pain.” You promise with a tight-lipped smile as Doctor Leclerc removes the stethoscope from his ears.

“I think we need to reconsider the dosage,” you assert, meeting Doctor Leclerc’s gaze.

“We don’t want to risk any adverse effects.” His eyes, a much darker hue of green now, narrow at you, like he can’t believe you’re telling him what to do. “I’ve already adjusted his medication. It’s within the recommended for his condition.” 

He shifts his focus back to the patient, the darkness and annoyance that once clouded his eyes now dissipating. “Everything is looking great! I’ll check on you tomorrow morning,” he reassures the patient with a warm smile before bidding his farewells. As he turns to you, nodding toward the doorway, his demeanor shifts, and a lethal glare meets your gaze. Without a word, you follow him out the room, bracing yourself. You refuse to cower, meeting his glare with a steely resolve of your own. Each step you take alongside him is a silent assertion.

His touch on your elbow sends a jolt of tingles to your stomach as he swiftly turns you around, your back now pressed firmly against the wall. His gaze pierces through you with a lethal intensity. 

“Que pensez-vous faire?” What do you think you’re doing? He pinched the bridge of his nose in between his pointer finger and thumb, with his eyes scrunched as if he got a splitting headache in the span of one second. Like he was in pain. Did you know how strong you scent was? He wondered mindlessly, almost forgetting why he was so mad at you in the first place.

You thought nothing of his actions, too busy feeling the anger swell in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes roll in exasperation, and your eyebrows knit together in annoyance at the audacity of this man. 

His eyes meet your again and can’t help but think how beautiful you look, even when angry. How he would just love to bend you over his knee and remind you who is in charge.

“Je veille sur mon patient.” I’m looking out for my patient.

He rests his hands on his hips, stealing a glance at his beeping pager before fixing his gaze back on you. His eyes, nearly black, pierce through you. “Non, tu essaies juste de provoquer une dispute comme d’habitude,” You’re just trying to start an argument as usual. He grits through clenched teeth. “His medication is completely fine, et tu le sais!” And you know it!

So, maybe you were trying to start an argument with him. Especially after April’s crying face came to your mind.

He’s so close that you can hardly think around his scent. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Don’t ever make April cry again.” You jab your finger into his shoulder, reminding yourself why you’re here in the first place.

He blinks, and you catch the glimmer of recognition spreading across his features. “Elle n’a aucun courage” She has no spine. He remarks before continuing, “She should learn from you. You probably have spare spines.” He steps back from you before striding down the hallway in opposite direction of the nurse’s station.

No matter how annoyed you were, you couldn't peel your eyes off his muscular back until he was completely out of sight. You scoffed at yourself. How pathetic am I? You questioned yourself repeatedly until you take in his last words to you.

Did he just make a joke?

[fanonical]

look people who've been around here for a while know exactly how i feel about the early doctor who serial edge of destruction but i rewatched it recently and i have feelings

so edge of destruction is the third ever serial of doctor who, right? it's an unearthly child, the daleks, then edge of destruction. and it's also kind of a bottle episode. edge of destruction is a two-parter, and is set entirely on the tardis featuring only the main cast

the plot is weird. everyone wakes up in the tardis with confusion and memory loss, not knowing what's going on. the tardis isn't safe, and strange things are happening. the ship seems to be malfunctioning, but there's nothing notably wrong with it. everyone's freaking out and accusing each other of sabotaging the tardis or hurting each other

now, as i said, this is early doctor who. companions barbara and ian had been kidnapped by the doctor and susan so they don't tell anyone that time travel is real, and at this point they don't trust the doctor and the doctor doesn't trust them. the doctor immediately starts accusing barbara and ian of sabotaging the ship to force him to take them home, which they angrily refute. they've spent the last two stories saving the doctor and susan from whatever's trying to kill them

barbara has a speech here which is brilliant and i can quote verbatim. 'do you realise, you stupid old man, that you'd have died in the cave of skulls if ian hadn't made fire for you? and what about what we went through against the daleks? not just for us, but for you and susan too. and all because you tricked us into going down to the city. accuse us? you ought to go down on your hands and knees and thank us! but gratitude's the last thing you'll ever have, or any sort of common sense either'

and the doctor spends the whole two episodes either accusing ian and barbara of being evil or being wholly unhelpful. (he straight up drugs everyone with a sedative at one point!) yeah, turns out the tardis is trying to tell them what's wrong via cryptic clues, and barbara's putting the pieces together. and the doctor still doesn't listen to her! she's so close to figuring it out and saving them all - they're all gonna die in about ten minutes and the doctor's basically given up, but barbara's trying to solve the problem

and in the end, they have the eureka moment and get out of trouble, but barbara's still understandably pissed. that is, until the doctor takes the time to apologise to her and tell her that yeah, she was right and he's sorry he didn't listen to her and he's going to do better to respect her opinions in future. they go into the next serial as friends, a first for the series to that point

so why do i love this weird little two-parter so much? because it is the moral centre of modern doctor who. this is the start of the characterisation of the doctor that we know and love. before this, the doctor is ruthless! he tries to kill a guy with a rock! he sabotages the tardis to satisfy his curiosity and lands everyone in danger from the daleks! he drugs them just because he doesn't trust them! he thinks he's smarter, better, and more important than the people he travels with

but then barbara stands up to him. she tells him that, no, she and ian are important too. and no, they're worth listening to. and yes, they can help and are worth something. and that's important, because barbara and ian are way more compassionate than the doctor is at this point. they want to help people they come across even if it means putting their own lives in danger.

sound familiar? yeah, the doctor's whole thing of helping everyone they come across and compassion towards everyone starts here. this is one of the most enduring things about the doctor and it would never have happened without barbara telling the doctor he's full of shit

and it's all because he listened to an ordinary woman

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 1

tw: cheating, mentions of divorce, hurt, angst, anger, crying, sadness

I don't condone cheating at all. But I know every marriage and even relationship is different. What one person might do in a situation, another might not do it..... Every time I write something, I'm always writing with the thought of the main goal being OC or in this case 'Y/N' ending up with the man I'm writing about (in this case it's Ghost). So this is going to be angst... but Y/n & Ghost are going to stay together at the end of this little story....

If this upsets you, pisses you off, or you hate it... I'm sorry :( Sort of my first time writing angst like this, so send me the feedback plsssss.

5 years.

A lot can happen in half a decade... especially in a marriage. Anniversaries, babies, a huge vacation, or a new house can happen in five years.

Or nothing at all can happen in five years. Nothing except the same thing almost every day; go to work, see your husband off on his next mission, and welcome him home with loving arms when he returned. But it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it. You loved being married to Simon. He was everything and more that you could ever dream of, even if he was the complete opposite of you.

The mysterious, brooding, and intimidating of a man falling for you - the bubbly, sweet, and nice woman that you were. The only two things that you both had in common was that when he first met you, you were quiet. It was only because you were a shy thing, nervous to meet anyone. But when the two of you developed an interesting, yet odd, friendship you opened up like a social butterfly; asking him about his job and his past - two things he would never talk about much - and his teammates which you had met shortly after.

Simon was never one for commitment, and he truthfully told you that the moment you began tearing down his walls; his shields. Did it hurt? No not really... you already had an idea he wasn't into being in a relationship. But he never seemed to be able to stay away from you. Always texting you, awkwardly asking to hang out or go grab food and drinks somewhere. He knew you were the woman he'd spend the rest of his life with the moment he laid eyes on you for the first time..... and when the moment came that he finally showed you his face, there was no turning back; you two had fallen for each other.

So where did it all go wrong? Was it when he asked you to marry him and you cried out "Yes!"... or was it after he returned from one his dangerous missions?

You couldn't figure it out... but something had changed in your marriage as of a few months ago. Simon would text you, letting you know he'd be late coming home, often walking through the door well after you were fast asleep. Or when he did come home early, he was more tired than usual, telling you he was taking a shower and heading to bed; leaving you alone to eat dinner by yourself. Even conversations with him had changed, where he once gave all his attention to your rambling about work and friends, he now zoned out, eyes lost in thought somewhere.

You thought it was work..... because that's what it always was. Nothing could have prepared you for the moment you received an email at work on your lunch break; that email. Thankfully you have been sitting in your car before opening it. With the long and weird letters, you knew the sender had to have either created a fake email or set it to where you couldn't respond or trace back to who it was. But that didn't matter..... what mattered was the videos inside.

The moment your finger clicked on the first one, your heart stopped.

Simon...your Simon... was in an unknown room, naked, standing behind a woman who was on all fours on a bed while he fucked her from behind. Even with his mask on, it was so easy to tell it was him - even when your initial thought was that it wasn't him. His tattoos were an instant giveaway, but you didn't look at that... you could always spot your husband on his build alone.

"Y'like that?" You heard him say as he pulled on the woman's hair, arching her back further into him.

It felt like your world had stopped. Your husband who you thought could never do anything like that, was cheating on you. The instant prickliness in your eyes burned as tears threatened to fall, but you found yourself continuing to look at the video.

"Answer me," He commanded, making the girl moan out loud when he slapped her ass hard.

"Y-yes Ghost," Her pitchy answer made you cringe.

You clicked off the video, shutting your eyes as tears began to fall. You wanted to scream, to throw the damn phone out of the car, but you couldn't..... there were five other videos in that email. And you watched all of them; each one lasting a little longer than the first; taken from different angles, you could tell that the camera was placed in different spots in the room and you wondered if Simon even knew if they were there. The tiny numbers at the corner of the screen showed you that the videos were over the span of a couple of months..... the same time frame when you started questioning what changed in your marriage.

What hurt you the most was the way Simon fucked the girl - who had to be the one to who you sent the videos since the bitch took the liberty to blur out her face. He was rough with her; calling her a good slut for him, choking her, pounding her harder every time. He had never done that with you; to you. Was he into rough sex? Why didn't he tell you?

You knew why... and for a second you lied to yourself pretending you didn't. But you knew.............. Simon was a big man, and that even included the size of his cock. And he knew that. But did he think you couldn't take him in the way she could? That you were fragile? You two had made love plenty of times, and not once had you ever told him to ease up or slow down... but you also never told him to go harder or faster either.

If you had to be honest with yourself, sex with Simon was... vanilla. And you felt a sob escape your throat when you realized that you had mentioned to Simon in the past that you really loved slow and passionate sex; lovemaking and soft. And your husband was one who listened and executed everything. Whether that was an order from his Captain or a request from his wife. You wanted soft and slow, so you got it.

But dammit that didn't mean you weren't open to trying new things!

And now... you probably would never even get to try any of that. If Simon was so into her, what did he need you for?

************************************************************************

That night you found yourself crying in the tub as you took your bath. Simon had texted you saying he would be home late, and your mind instantly went back to those videos from earlier. He was with her.

You wanted to call him and lash out about how could he do this to you; to both of you. But doing that felt too....familiar. It was the same as it always been right? You'd get into a relationship, thinking everything was going great, only to find out that the guy cheated. Your last relationship taking the biggest toll on you when you first found out he did. This time you felt numb, confused, and envy. You were envious at the fact that she got to see a part of Simon he hadn't shown you, confused because he was your husband and you wanted to beg him to come home, and numb because you knew no matter how much you tried to give love out to the world, you'd always be the one who got hurt; whose heart was stomped all over.

Those tears steadily fell as you got out of the tub, put on your pajamas, and crawled into your side of the bed. You couldn't sleep. You tried, you really did. But how could you?

It wasn't until after 11pm that you heard the front door open and close followed by heavy boots. Simon was home. You shut your eyes, pretending to be asleep, when you heard footsteps get closer to the bedroom. Simon made his way into the room quietly, making sure not to disturb your 'sleep', and heading to the ensuite bathroom. As soon as the door shut and you heard the shower turn on, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." you kept telling yourself in your head. You almost wished you had the guts to get up and go sleep on the couch, but if you did, you knew he would come to ask what were you doing. You could leave the apartment fully, and go sleep at a hotel... but that was even worse.

As you kept going back and forth in your head, Simon finished his shower and was getting ready to walk back into the room. You quickly turned over so your back would be facing him whenever he got in bed and shut your eyes once more when the door opened. He carefully walked around the room, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the dresser and putting them on before easing his way into his side of the bed.

Your heart skipped a beat at just the thought of him going to sleep next to you; like nothing was going on. But what really shocked you was when he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest as he gently kissed your neck.

"I love you, sweetheart," he whispered, "so much."

You did everything in your power to not let your heart skip another beat; to not have your body tense at his words. It hurt so much.... but you snuggled back into him and faked a soft snore so he would continue to believe you were asleep. And that's how the two of you fell asleep that night... even if it was only until 3:30am when your eyes opened again and you found yourself sliding out of bed, leaving a sleeping husband in bed while you made your way to the living room.

Pacing back and forth you continued to think about everything. The videos that you wanted to watch again because it's like you needed to be sure it was Simon fucking that woman roughly. The fact that he told you he loved you last night despite not really loving you anymore. Who loves someone yet breaks their hearts?

Somehow you found yourself sitting outside in one of the chairs on the patio. The early morning air was cold, and you welcomed the shiver that ran up your spine as a distraction. At least it was a true and honest feeling; the cold wind brushing against your face was real. And you stayed out there even after your body felt numb, but you ignored it as your mind swam in different directions. It wasn't until Simon's groggy voice pulled you back to the earth.

"What're y'doin' out here sweetheart?" He asked as he walked up and squatted down in front of you. You looked at your husband. Really looked at him. How was the man that had given you so much had become someone you didn't even recognize in that moment. Why was he acting like he cared? You didn't respond, and that caused his eyebrows to draw together as he reached out and grabbed your hands, "Everything alright love?"

You sucked in a breath, eyes prickling as the tears threatened to fall, "I-I think we should get a divorce."

Simon's eyes widened and you saw his entire body tense under the dim light of the moon in the sky and a deep frown on his face as he looked at you in utter confusion. "What?" You pulled your hands from his grip and stood up, making him stand up out of your way. You didn't even give him the chance to say anything else as panic set in and you walked back into the house. Of course, he didn't let you get far as he walked in after you before gently pulling your arm so you'd face him again. "What do y'mean you want a divorce?"

If the floor could swallow you up, you'd let it. You didn't want to have this conversation, but you had no choice. You couldn't hold back those feelings anymore. You let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed your hands down your face to wipe away the fallen tears, "We should get a divorce, Simon."

His jaw tensed as he looked at you like you had grown two heads or something; eyes widened and mouth slightly agape in shock. "Why?" He couldn't help the tightening of his hand on your arm. Like he was afraid to let you go.

Your gaze fell on his chest. You couldn't look him in the eyes, "Because.... you don't love anymore Simon."

"That's not true."

"Is it?"

"I do love-"

"Do you?-" You raised your voice as you pulled your arm from his grip and hand immediately going into your robe pocket to pull out your phone "-if you do then why would you do this?" You pulled up the email, clicking on the video before showing your screen to him.

"What is-" He tried to ask, but before he could finish his sentence his eyes landed on the video. The video of him and the woman; on that bed; fucking. You didn't even know which video you clicked on, but by the way his eyebrows furrowed deeply and the deep frown on his face was even more downturned, you knew what he was looking at was himself.... cheating on your.

"Wanna see another? I got six," you sourly chuckled before pulling the phone from in front of him and clicking on another.

"Where do you get this?" He asked, his voice somewhere between frustration and sadness.

You glanced up at him, pausing the video and seeing that he was looking down at your phone in disgust. "I wish I fucking knew... because I hate-" a sob left your mouth "- I hate that I had to get an email at work from whoever the fuck sent this to me just for me to find out that you cheated on me! No that you've been cheating on me!" your voice raising after each sentence as you shoved the phone back in your pocket.

Turning away from him, you damn near slapped your hands over your eyes as you cried. Now, Simon had seen you cry many times before... but crying in front of him right now made you feel horrible; feel weak. And you didn't want to show him how weak you were. Even when he reached out and touched your arm again, you stepped away because you knew if he did, you'd crumble.

"Sweetheart," he said. His voice was soft, low, weak, like he was trying to understand his own emotions, but also to understand what was happening to your marriage. You didn't acknowledge him, and that just made him walk around to stand in front of you, making you lower your head, "Y/n.. Listen, I fucked up-"

"Stop." you cut him off as you shook your head.

"Please."

"Don't."

"I'm sorry love." he pushed, taking your head into both of his hands as he raised yours to look at him.

You pulled away from him once more, "Simon I can't do this," you backed up putting some distance between you and him, "You don't love me anymore. I get it-"

He closed the gap between you two instantly, "I do love you."

"I just wish you would of told me," you kept going, "Wish you would have said you didn't want me anymore." When he opened his mouth once more you kept talking, not allowing him to get a word in, "I know it's more stuff for you on base, but just get the divorce papers and I swear I'll sign them. I'll leave. I'll let you be happy Simon."

He wasn't listening. The fact that he had let his fucked up mind get between the two of you, and him being weak and dishonest to cheat on you was crashing his world right in front of his eyes. Usually, it's the cheater who is sorry they were caught, but Simon was feeling both. He had been dealing with the thoughts of being honest with you for a couple of weeks, but here you were telling him you found out about his infidelity and you wanted a divorce. His eyes were watering and red from his own tears threatening to spill. He was an idiot to think you'd want to stay, even if he had told you the truth himself.

But Simon was also selfish. He didn't want a divorce. He was on the brink of cutting the woman off who had flirted her way into his pants on more than one occasion, and he wanted to tell you the truth... tell you how sorry he was and make it up to you in any way he could. And you two would move on....... maybe not happily at first, but you would still be his. Not divorce him.

"No." He pulled you by the waist, trapping you as he looked at you, "No divorce."

Your eyes widened as you looked at him like he was crazy, "Si-"

"No. I'm not doin' it." Pushing on his chest, you tried to wiggle your way from his hold, but he only gripped tighter, "I'm so sorry Y/n. I fucked up sweetheart."

"Simon please!" you cried out, your thoughts crumbling, "I can't do this."

Everything crumbled as you pushed on him more, but he was stronger; always stronger. And his touch alone was making you bawl as you weakly hit on his chest. You hated him so much... so much that you knew deep down no matter what you always would love him. And that just made you cry harder. He was manipulating you. He had to be. It always went that way, didn't it? Your ex-boyfriend saying how sorry he was only to hurt you more. Simon wouldn't be any different, would he?

After what felt like minutes of your weak attempt at pushing him away, your arms gave up as they hung by your side. Simon hadn't let you go the entire time, his own couple of tears falling down his cheek as he listened to you almost wail in anger.... anger because of him. He wanted to take one of his guns and shoot himself in the head because of the pain he was causing you.

When he eventually pulled back a little for you to look at him, you couldn't help but nervously bite your lip. You wanted to believe him, but you couldn't, "Please go get the papers, Simon."

Depending on how you all like this, I may post part 2 when I'm finished with it. Currently working on it.

[remiratboi]

Probable part one of a fluffy yandere childhood best friend romance. I dno what tags yet but all in my previous posts, or pinned are possible.

Every year, your family would vacation in the Moonlight Realm. The pocket universe that had been discovered around 100 years ago. ‘Moonlight Realm’ it was affectionately called because of the creatures who dwelled there. Monsters.

As well as monsters of all kinds, the Moonlight Realm boasted of beautiful scenery, cheap rates, and what humans originally deemed “exotic cultures”.

But the humans and the monsters had settled into a comfortable coexistence, and monsters were far from rare any longer. You grew up with creatures all around you. It was common and equal. Human race had come a long way.

The little cabin you always rented for the whole summer was small and cramped. You, 3 siblings, your parents, and an elderly dog made the 2 bedroom unit feel like a shoebox. From a very young age, you had learned all the best hiding spots and getaways in the park. When you were around 10 years old, you found that apparently someone else had found them too.

A young half orc named Ollidar, or Ollie.

You didn’t speak the same language, and the first time you met, it had been awkward and confusing. You had tried to tell him he was welcome, and that there was enough room for the both of you. He seemed to understand, as he ended up sitting across from you in the small natural clearing sitting just inside the forest.

You probed him with questions, you tried acting things out, you tried writing them down with a stick in the dirt. He didn’t respond. Sometimes it looked like he understood something but he never gave any reaction. Just sat there, watching you. Sometimes he’d smile shyly.

The first summer it had been a lot to get used to. He started meeting you every day in the same spot. Sometimes he’d read, or listen to music on his EarPods, but mostly he watched you.

You wasted a few days trying to get him to respond, but since he never did, it slowly switched to you just talking to him. You told him… everything. You had to fill the silence. It would be too awkward if not.

You told him about your friends back home, your cat who you missed terribly and hoped was liking the pet sitter. About your favourite movies, books, foods. You told him about your fears, you weren’t sure why. You told him embarrassing stories. Sometimes you even worried he would think you were lame or weird and leave, but he never did. He just listened.

The summer came to an end and you did your best to tell him goodbye. That you hoped to see him again.

And you would. Every year. Every summer you spent two glorious months glued to each other’s sides. Your families became close through you. He had a sister and two moms. Your parents got along, and all of your siblings as well.

No one understood why he never spoke. It wasn’t a language barrier anymore. After 7 summers together both families knew more than enough about the other’s language. Enough to communicate with little confusion. He seemed to understand everything. If you asked him to pass you something, he would. If you gave him something he didn’t want, he’d shake his head. But he never spoke.

You stopped going on family vacations when you turned 18. You had moved out, so had most of your siblings. Your parents decided it was time for your own family vacations.

The first summer that you weren’t going, hit you harder than you’d ever imagined. Your chest hurt.

The next year was better.

And the next.

Soon you were 28 and that little half orc was just a fond, albeit, bittersweet memory.

Until your parents decide to do a sort of reunion trip this year. All of your siblings, and their families, plus you and your parents, would be taking a summer vacation to Lost Souls Campground in the Moonlight Realm this year.

It had barely changed. Some machines had been upgraded, the cabins had clearly been renovated to function with modernity, but other wise it was beautiful, serene, and just like you remembered it.

“It’s you.” A strong deep voice full of awe whispered from behind you. You turned around and was met with a face indeed in awe. It took a moment but you realized this was the first time you’d ever heard his voice.

“Oh wow!” You exclaimed. Genuine joy spreading across your face. “You’re here?!” You cried and raced up to him. He didn’t even flinch as you threw yourself at him. His arms opened and he gathered you in a powerful embrace. There was a hint of desperation in the way he clung to your soft body.

You felt a pang of anxiety that had been previously overtaken by the shock of seeing him. You were not thin anymore. And while you loved your body, and felt sexy in it, not everyone else was as comfortable with fat bodies as you were. What if he didn’t want you like this?

Want me like this? What am I thinking?!

You tried to pull yourself away from the hug, but he held tight.

“It’s you…” he muttered into your hair. He was warm, and huge. The orc part of his genes must have been strong. He dwarfed you. It took a lot for someone to make you feel small. Some part of your brain short circuited when you finally registered he had been lifting you. You panicked slightly then, worried about being too heavy and pushed yourself from his chest. He reluctantly lowered you down.

You were blushing from feet to head as you smoothed out your clothes. “Sorry, I… I was just surprised to see you.” You stuttered out. You looked up at his face. He was beautiful. You could see hints of the boy you knew, but he had grown, developed thick muscles, his face thinned out and lengthened.

“You came back.” He replied. His gaze was hyper focused on you. It seemed nothing else registered to him any longer. You squirmed a bit under such overwhelming attention.

“Yeah, we stopped back then, when all of us had moved out. But we are doing a sort of reunion trip this summer!” You explained excitedly. You felt giddy. You didn’t even really understand why. You felt excitement at seeing him.

“Does your family still come here every year?” You asked and leaned around him to see if any of them were standing near by.

“No, just me.” He answered. For the first time since seeing you, his gaze dropped. His cheeks darkened.

“You must really love this ratty old place, huh?” You joked and nudged his arm with your elbow.

“I guess.” He replied, still avoiding eye contact. “So how long are you here for?” He asked.

“The whole summer!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms out wide as if that would show the physical manifestation of time. “I had about a decade of vacations days saved up, so I decided to take the whole summer. Everyone else is just here for a couple weeks.”

He nodded and glanced back up into your eyes. “So just you and your partner are here for the summer? Or do you have kids now?” He asked and dropped his gaze again.

You chuckled. Kind of a transparent attempt my guy. “No, no partner. No kids. Never found anyone willing to put up with me long enough.” You joked self deprecatingly. “You of all people know how much I can talk.” You grimaced at yourself.

“That was my favourite thing about you.” He replied quietly. He seemed nervous. You blushed again. “The way you spoke was mesmerizing.” He continued before, it seemed, he could stop himself.

A manic sounding giggle escaped your lips. “Wow, marry me?” You joked. It was his turn to laugh like a crazy person.

“So, uh,” you continued “how long are you here for?”

“Whole summer.” He answered and smiled up at you. “How solo were you hoping to spend your time?” He ran his hand down the back of his neck and rested it on his shoulder.

You laughed and placed your hand on his arm.

A/N: I think I’ll continue this. We will see.

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter II : Guilty as Sin

“If long-suffering propriety is what the want from me—

They don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly.”

series masterlist Chapter I

pairing: post prison/ cm:evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance, hurt/comfort, fluffy angsty

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, hurt/comfort, harsh words and gossip about reader and Spence; info-dumping Spencer; pet names (angel) possibly eventual smut in later parts, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything and as always, lemme know what you think!

note: still third person pov, but this one is more from the readers perspective. Thinking maybe I’ll go back and forth between chapters if you see a quote in purple it’s readers perspective, if the quote is green it’ll be Spencer’s 🩵

wordcount: 2.1k

Of course, Penelope did not disappoint, popping a tiny confetti popper at the newlyweds as they made their way out of the conference room and into the bullpen, which felt like an awkward makeshift reception. The rest of the team offered playful congratulations, with Alvez going so far as to wolf-whistle and point out the way the couple's linked hands which in turn earned him a swift knock on the back of the head courtesy of Tara. It felt safe and joyous. Y/N tried to smile, hesitantly dropping Spencer’s hand as she collected her things, the anxiety of being away from these people, from her home and normal life, just starting to settle into her chest.

The flight to Seattle was long. Though Y/N had traveled by jet multiple times, it had never felt so massive as she and Spencer sat at the small table combing through the case file in comfortable silence. So far, three couples had been found dead in their quiet Seattle homes. Of the couples, two of the men had been professors at different colleges in the area while the third was the head of a non-profit organization. The women, were all nearly twenty years young and had worked for their husbands in some way before being married. At each crime scene, the unsub left a calling card of sorts. A feather in the hands of the woman and a beautifully written poetic line alluding to the dangers of an “unruly” woman in the hand of the man.

“These cards are beautiful,” Y/N mused, turning the evidence bag with the delicate stationery over in her hands. “Each line is poetic in nature but not quite right. See, ‘Wise men once said Wild winds are death to the candle’? And these feathers?”

“I don’t think any of these are actual published poems, more like plays at various poets' works. But the feather, by the look of it, it looks like it’s possibly from an albatross. They’re seabirds with wingspans that can reach up to nearly ten feet. There are several poems regarding that particular bird. The first one that comes to mind is Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s ‘The Rime of Ancient Mariner,’ in which an albatross is wrongfully shot down because a mariner thought it to be a bad omen. In older mythologies, the albatross was seen as good luck, bringing wind to sailors. In the poem, the mariner is forced to wear the lifeless albatross around his neck in place of the traditional cross.” There’s an excitement in Spencer that y/n hasn’t seen before, the way his eyes light up and his hand flail almost wildly. It’s endearing— cute she would almost say.

“It’s not a super common metaphor, but the albatross is also often used in association with guilt or shame,” Spencer continued, sitting back in his chair, eyes looking anywhere but at the woman in front of him. “Some authors use it to symbolize a curse…sorry.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head, his curls hanging gently around his face as he dropped his gaze back down to the file on the table.

“No-no, don’t apologize. That was all incredibly fascinating. I knew you are wildly academic, but why exactly do you know all of that about some random bird I’ve never even heard of?” Y/N's tone wasn’t teasing or harsh; it was full of genuine sincerity and curiosity, which took Spencer completely by surprise.

“My mentor… when I started at the BAU, he had a thing with birds,” Spencer chuckled, offering a small shrug as his gaze came back to meet hers. “I guess I just really wanted to impress him.” The jet fell back into a comfortable silence, except for the rustling papers, for another hour until Y/N decided she’d had enough and retreated to the small couch to rest her eyes for a bit.

The drive from the airport to the university was quick. The house they’d been assigned was cute, small, quaint, but certainly big enough for a professor and their spouse to be comfortable. There was an office for Spencer, a decently sized kitchen, and a living room that opened up to a sweet little patio. Truly, there should’ve been no complaints. As Y/N entered the bedroom, she frowned, her go-bag in hand as she shuffled around the nicely sized room, sizing up the singular king-sized bed. A knock at the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts.

Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes falling between the bed and the woman in front of him before nodding. “Don’t worry, you can take the master if you’d like. The office has a pullout, and I really don’t mind.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can sleep here—we can...” her voice going up an octave as she tried and failed to play it cool. “It’s not a big deal, Spencer. We’re both adults.” She shrugged, tossing her bag onto the bed and turning to sit at its foot, her arms crossed tightly against her chest. Spencer read her like a book, seeing the young woman in front of him in the midst of a battle with herself, her pride and anxiety both fighting for control, though he knew she’d likely never admit that.

“Really, I’m okay. Thank you, though. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile and a little wave before retreating down the hall.

For the next week or so, the duo did their best to make the space feel like a home. What it lacked in size, it surely made up for it in atmosphere. For a state that had a nasty rap for rain and gloom, it was surprisingly peaceful. There hadn’t been any rain yet, and the summer sun stayed up well into the night. There were moments where Y/N caught herself thinking that had it not been for work, this would be a really nice life.

When the semester started, they fell into a comfortable routine. During the day, Y/N carried the full course load of a grad student, while Spencer spent most of his time tucked away in his on-campus office, prepping lectures and reviewing assignments. At night, the real work would begin as they’d sit at their quaint little dining table with a pot of coffee or take-out containers and go over any developments in the case that the team had found back in DC. In the two weeks they’d been in Seattle, the body count thankfully hadn’t gone up.

As the weeks went on, the rumblings of the new “hot” behavioral psychology professor spread like wildfire. Those rumors were quickly followed by the fact that he was not only married, but his wife was a student. It didn't take long for people to begin connecting the dots. With every professor calling out her name and immediately sizing her up, the other students caught on fast. Of course, after that, y/n became hyper aware the way almost everyone looked at her and the whispers from professors and students alike that she was “the girl,” the reason Doctor Reid had to move out west. She’d expected it from the students; it was incredible gossip that she herself would’ve eaten up back in her first round of university. What she hadn’t expected were the comments made by her partner's new colleagues, whispers usually a little too loud as she’d make her way into a room.

“She really should be ashamed of herself. You know, I heard he only married her to minimize the scandal. I bet he’s miserable.”

On a normal day, the comment would’ve rolled right off her back, she’d file it away with the rest of the case's details. Maybe she was overtired just exhausted from the workload of simultaneously playing a grad student and an FBI agent, but today, she let the words seep beneath her skin, poisoning her mind. She hadn’t stayed for the class, instead turning on her heels, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks as she made her way back to the house. She felt absolutely ridiculous, letting her emotions consume her this way. The words weren’t true, nothing about her current life or situation was true, so why did it hurt so much hearing that people thought Spencer was miserable beside her?

Am I allowed to cry?

When she entered the house, she crumbled against the door, the tears freely flowing as she allowed herself to fall apart in the privacy of the home that was supposed to be empty.

“Y/N?” Spencer called, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors as he made his way down the hall. “What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He froze at the end of the hall, taking in the crumpled form of his pseudo-wife. “W-what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” The words came rushing out as he sunk to his knees in front of her, his hands hesitantly reaching out to cup her cheeks, his thumb trying to brush the tears away as quickly as they fell.

“I-I’m fine... You-you weren’t supposed to see this,” she sniffed, trying to pull away, to hide her face in her sweater, but Spencer wouldn’t let that happen. His hand staying planted firmly on her cheek, keeping her in place. “You’re supposed to be in your office...” she said, practically whimpering as another round of tears betrayed her.

“I came home to grab a book and a bite to eat... angel, what’s going on?”

“It’s silly—no, it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t even care, and none of this is real, and I—I...” She caught herself, her breaths coming short and quick, but Spencer didn’t move. He sat, patiently waiting for her to continue. “I know that it’s a story, that I am not really your wife, that you were never really my professor, and that six months ago you didn’t even know who I was.” Finally, she took a deep breath, her hand slowly taking his from her cheek and holding it in both of hers in her lap. “But it’s so awful, Spence... I’m just so tired of hearing how I’ve ruined your life, that I’m using you, that...” The last words caught in her throat as another silent sob racked through her body. “...that you’re miserable.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Do I look miserable? No, I don’t think I do and if I do, I sincerely apologize, I think it just may be my resting face.” his voice dripped the kind of sincerity that made Y/N’s heart flutter, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lip. “You’ve got a good face Spencer, not too miserable…”

Spencer chuckled, taking the compliment with a little nod, as he offered her hand a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, you’re going through this seemingly alone, and if it would make you feel any better I can have a conversation with the other professors… and though I’ve never been in your exact position, I do remember what it was like to constantly be torn down by everyone around you. You’re allowed to cry, angel, allowed to feel all of the things you’re currently feeling. And while I might only be your temporary husband, I did sign that paper, and I do promise to take care of you and make you smile and protect you from every awful thing I can’t control outside that door. Okay?”

She nodded, her gaze falling to their joined hands in her lap as the last of her tears stained her now rosy cheeks.

“I’m going to need a verbal response, angel.” His tone shifted; it wasn’t quite as delicate or gentle as his previous vows had been, but it was just stern enough to draw her gaze back up to his.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

“Y-yes. Okay.” With another nod, she took her hand from his, dragging it down her dampened cheeks. “I’m sorry about all this.” She offered him a small smile and a shrug. “I swear I’m not usually like this—”

“Stop it. There is nothing to be sorry about.” He rose to his feet, his hand immediately reaching out to help his partner up. “Now come on, I’ve got classes to cancel, and we’ve gotta get you cleaned up. I think we deserve to take the rest of the day off.”

“Doctor Spencer Reid, are you—are you proposing we play hooky this afternoon?” Y/N clutched her metaphorical pearls, mock shock consuming her features. Spencer rolled his eyes, a genuine chuckle passing his lips as he shook his head.

“What can I say, we’ve been here—what, going on three weeks? I think we deserve to see the sights. And besides, how else am I gonna show the world just how miserable I am by your side?” He teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of her head. “Now come on, seriously, up, moving. Let’s go, I’m taking you out.”

“If it’s make-believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?”

Chapter III: So High School

taglist: @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @herbookgarden @guiltyyassin

[bengiyo]

Knock Knock, Boys! is an Ideal First BL for New Viewers

I often talk on @the-conversation-pod about how I react to BL from the lens of a queer media critic actively trying to recruit queer media viewers to BL. I want those viewers to join us in BL, and so I value shows that have strong character writing and satisfying resolutions for their drama. New viewers don’t always understand or recognize romance or BL tropes right away, and sometimes things go over their heads. In that vein, Knock Knock, Boys! may be one of the most useful shows I’ve encountered in the last year for this exact purpose. 

Rating: 9, Highly Recommended

Runtime: 12 50+ minute episodes

Country: Thailand

Network: WeTV

Availability: WeTV, GagaOOlala

Knock Knock, Boys! places four young men at a transitional point in their lives. Split evenly between first-year college students and working adults, each character is running from something. Peak is running from a marriage to a woman, Thanwa is running from a bad relationship with his ex-boyfriend, Latte is running towards graduation, and Almond is running away from his sheltered existence. Over the course of the show, these two pair off based on their shared age brackets in one of the most sex-positive shows I’ve seen this year, with a common theme about how honesty and commitment to each other gives people the space they need to grow. More than anything, this show values patience and kindness in relationships in a way that I cannot overstate.

As the ice starts to break, they learn that Thanwa and Latte have had active sex lives (Thanwa exclusively with men, and Latte with all sorts of people) and establish a rhythm within their home. Thanwa makes most of their meals, and Almond has to wake Latte up every day because he ignores alarms. The original conceit that connects our quartet beyond their shared housing incident comes from Almond promising to pay the rent for a year for anyone who helps him lose his virginity to his high school crush, Jumper. Hijinks ensue as the boys try to befriend Jumper, and angle for him and Almond to grow closer. As with any story like this, Latte ends up developing feelings for Almond, while Peak and Thanwa grow closer. 

More spoilers ahead, I want to talk about each character, and what I liked so much about each. These boys became one of my favorite friend groups we’ve had in a while. I am a huge fan of age gaps in queer friendships, and this show has much of it.

Thanwa: Played by the talented Seng Wichai, Thanwa is a great answer to the question of “Where do the quiet gays go?” He clearly knows his way around cruising spots, or knows how to use the apps, and yet everything we know about his shows that he’s geared towards domestic life and his hobbies. He dresses like a normie all the time, he loves cooking, and he loves eating. He’s clearly a thoughtful and reliable friend, and it’s that commitment and reliability that eventually gets him a job he actually wants to do. More than anything, he gave far more grace to a closeted man he cared about than I ever expected AND HE WON. Seng remains one of my favorite BL performers because of his ability to play ugly and goofy. He’s so beautiful because he is capable of playing weirdos well. 

Peak: Played by BL veteran Best Vittawin, Peak is running from compulsory heteronormativity. He’s expected to marry the daughter of a family close to theirs, and he is letting this all happen to keep his stern father happy. Peak has been running away from himself ever since his mom died. He saw how much that hurt his dad, and he’s struggled to be a problem-free son for a long time as a result. The weight of expectation on him presses down on Peak so hard that he can’t even focus half the time, and literally zones out as he tries to cope. Best gives a wonderful performance as Peak, especially in the final episodes, as he finally unburdens himself and blossoms as a result. This is my favorite Best character of all time, and Peak is one of my favorite portrayals of what it means to love someone enough for them to leave the closet on their own terms. 

Almond: Played by Nokia Chinnawat, who appeared in Thank God It’s Friday (2019), Almond is such a fun view into what modern gay boys could be like. He’s young and horny, and he wants to get laid! He’s not embarrassed about this, but he is shy. I loved the way the show used his enthusiasm as a way to further its PSA agenda in such a fun way. Almond is also one of the few rich kids we’ve had in these dramas that isn’t inherently insufferable. I like how his wealth mostly comes up as a problem solving tool, and he doesn’t feel too much like a snob after the first few interactions. I also loved his arc of getting over his unrequited crush on Jumper into recognizing his feelings for Latte. Nokia himself shows a real knack for physical comedy and expressiveness that makes me genuinely want to follow his career beyond this show. 

Latte: Played by Jaonine Jiraphat, Latte fills the role of our sexually experienced queer in the group. Confidently pansexual, Latte was so much fun for me because he and Thanwa had no shame about the sex and relationships they’ve had before. I loved how consistently Latte was shown to be emotionally present and sincere in all of his relationships. It could have been so easy to present him as promiscuous or slutty, and instead they present him as beloved. Every one of his former lovers we encountered seemed happy to see him again, and also resolved about the time they’d spent together. More than anything, I deeply appreciated how patient he was with Almond without suddenly becoming a sexless being because his boyfriend was shy or nervous. Jaonine was incredibly charming in this role, and I hope casting directors take notice. 

The Supporting Cast: The supporting characters were perfectly calibrated for their roles in this show. Jumper (Pak Varayu) made total sense as Almond’s crush, and has a great arc of Almond falling out of love with him, and becoming briefly enemies with Almond before reconciling. Lookpeach (Guitar Tunthita) plays the role of the modern faghag in a way that feels like Thai BL doing corrective work on the role of fandom in BL, and I have deep love for this character. Jane (Naya Gorrawiya) is the friend that everyone deserves; I loved the reveal about how personal her understanding and support for Peak has been this whole time. This show even calibrated it’s villain well in Max (Tuss Thotsawat), who showed that there are far worse things than cheating in broken relationships. 

Final Thoughts: I am so excited to show this show to my friend Emily, who’s been watching BL with me since early covid lockdowns. While this show has a few small stumbles that keep it from getting a 10, I don’t want to downplay how refreshing it was to watch a show that had a clear vision of what it wanted to be, and executed it the whole time. I commented during episode 1 that it felt more like a romcom than a BL, and the show said that through Lookpeach in its final episode! It built believable queer friendships in front of us, and understood the emotional core of most of its angst and drama all the way through. This show avoided veering too far into melodrama, and remembered that it was a romantic comedy the entire time. It also managed to be consistently sex-positive without feeling exploitative of its talent, or by letting the audience down on the sex front (I will be thinking about Almond and Latte’s first time and the morning after for a long time). This show also has parents apologizing for the knots they tied their children into. I don’t know a better Thai show airing during this season. This show is a real delight, and one I urge you all to show your friends who might be looking for a gay romcom. 

[sleepysnk]

a/n: hey everyone! i’m so excited to bring this piece to you all. this goes along with my sugar daddy collab! <3 i hope you all enjoy this! 🫶🏻

pairings: kokonoi hajime x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, sugar daddy!koko, age gap (reader is 21 and koko is 25), oral sex f!receiving, mentions of oral sex m!receiving, unprotected sex, use of pet names (baby, pretty thing, baby girl, good girl, princess), some degradation, light choking, car sex, edging, creampie, possessive behavior, kinda angst (?), very fluffy koko.

synopsis: you’re a college student looking to buy the things you want. koko comes to your aid and is able to grant you every wish you desired. from handbags to makeup that was worth more than anything you owned, he gave you it all. you have a long list of items, but what happens when you ask koko for his debit card and not just one item?

head over heels ft. kokonoi hajime

Your eyes shifted over the many items in your shopping cart. The time displayed on your laptop screen showed that it was nearly one o’clock in the morning. You were fully aware that you should have been peacefully sleeping in your bed by now, but you were far too deep in your shopping to even think about any shut eye. 

Summer break was fast approaching and your university classes were soon coming to a close since the end of the semester was nearing its end. With that idea in mind, you grew sort of lazy and only did so much homework before feeling completely burned out. It was a common occurrence with many students your age. Your brain knew that the end was coming, so it set you into a certain mode where all you wanted to do was shut down and not do anything else. It was difficult, especially for the professors. However, you were passing all of your classes with high A’s and you had no reason to panic. You always kept up with your schoolwork like any proper student would, and now you were celebrating with a little retail therapy.

With break on the horizon, you had the desire to buy new things. Whether it was new clothes, a fresh new set of shoes, or just some makeup, you wanted to splurge a little. It wouldn’t hurt to have some new additions to your closet, right? 

Unfortunately, like many students you attended college with, you were quite broke. You had a part time job, but none of that money was able to go to things you wanted. You often had to save your checks for proper necessities like groceries and gas for your car. Sure, your roommate assisted with food and other things along those lines, but you didn’t want her to bear the brunt of it all. In the end, you were only left with a good one hundred fifty dollars. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you would have close to two hundred, but those weeks were rare. It was difficult to save, but the circumstances were never in your favor. You honestly couldn’t wait to graduate, but that left you with debt that would take you years to pay off. 

Now while that did stop you a majority of the time, you had an alternative option for buying the things you wanted. 

A little over three months ago, you and your friends were all hanging around inside your dorm. Your conversations were casual until your friend, Emma, had suggested downloading this app that involved meeting sugar daddies. At first, you were completely blown away by your friend's statement. You and your friends tried to protest that the app was probably a scam, because you had seen those types of things happen before. You’d offer them your banking information and then all of your funds would be taken from you in the matter of minutes. Plus, there were tons of weird men on those kinds of apps. Sometimes they would completely lie about their status just to receive whatever they wanted. Emma completely shut you and your friends down, and offered proof to help her case. When she brought it to the table, you were astounded. There had been multiple men that had sent her almost a thousand dollars each. She even claimed some didn’t ask for naked photographs, and they just sent it with zero hesitation behind it.

At first, you were stunned. 

Of course, that kind of offer seemed almost unnatural from how Emma made it look. A majority of the time those people were scammers or they wanted some kind of sexual advance for payment. Nowadays you couldn’t trust such a thing, but Emma had the proof. There were men sending her all kinds of money, and to be honest, you wanted in on that. You would have to do some digging is all. 

Once your friends had gone back to their own dorms, you decided to download the app. You chose some nice photos of yourself for your profile and began swiping on the plethora of men on your screen. It was almost like a sugar daddy tinder. For the first few minutes, you were met with lots of older guys. Some of them could have been your fathers age, so that’s why you decided to change your age range. Though, you had lots of discouragement for a while. A majority of the guys were genuine catfishes and you could tell by their profiles. The obvious cropping and misinformation was a clear sign of that. Some of them seemed like genuine creeps too. The one that looked promising almost always had a flaw along with them, and it was becoming quite annoying. How did Emma manage to discover the right men? This had to be pinned against you because all of the sugar daddies on that app were fucking weird. 

To be frank, you had started to believe that it was unlikely you’d find anything promising. The men you did have conversations with were disgusting or it was obvious they were trying to steal your debit card information. 

That ultimately changed when you came across a certain profile that seemed almost too good to be true.

Koko, 25

You were just about to delete the app when you came across the man’s profile. It was already almost two in the morning, but you were enthralled by the man on your screen. He was quite handsome and he seemed to live a very luxurious lifestyle. Your eyes widened when you saw that he was sitting on a Mercedes with many other cars beside it. He was so dreamy with his black and white hair that was dyed in different sections. There was a single earring that hung from his right ear, and there was even a photo of him sticking his tongue out. He owned more than your college tuition and car payment combined. It was hard for you to believe that a man like him was on such an app, but the most shocking thing was that he was only five miles away. Meaning, he was very close to you. It almost seemed like a fucking trap with how perfect it looked on the outside. There was no way this man was real. Behind the screen, there must have been a fifty year old man sitting in his crusty boxers. 

Despite that, you took a risk and swiped right on the man. 

You went to bed and didn’t ponder the app any longer. You assumed that if he was real, he probably wouldn’t bat an eye at you. He’d just keep swiping and leave it as that, right?

Wrong, so very wrong.

The next morning, you awoke and checked your phone as usual. You had notifications from your friends or random emails from your professors, but what you didn’t expect was a message from that app. 

Koko sent you a new message!

Your heart dropped inside your chest when you saw the message for the first time. You thought you were just having a dream, but Koko had actually messaged you. You immediately went to open it and see what he had said. You were honestly expecting one of those usual scam messages that are insanely filled with random emojis, but it was the exact opposite of that.

Koko: hey pretty thing <3 

For a little while, you contemplated replying to him. He could be a catfish for all you knew. He could also be trying to sweet talk you into taking your money, so you had to play it cool. It took you a while to actually trust the man behind the screen, but he eventually shared his phone number and the two of you began to frequently chat throughout the day. Koko had revealed he was a businessman. He never specified what it was, but he informed you that he made lots of money and he wasn’t married so there was nothing to spend it on except for himself. He was about four years older than you. The only reason he joined the app was to find someone to share that cash with, and that’s exactly what the man wanted to do with you. Koko also proved he wasn’t a scammer by any means and he would be willing to buy you whatever you wanted. 

But, at a price.

Koko had proposed a deal for you both. He had no problem being your sugar daddy by any means. He told you that if there was anything you needed from him, he would buy it with no hesitation. However, he wanted something in return. There was a reason you were his sugar baby. 

Koko offered to give you what you wanted after you had sex with him, or gave him something in exchange for your item. He told you that the higher the price of your gift, the higher you would have to work to receive it. It was quite a shock to you to hear such a thing, but you did want a sugar daddy. Koko had even mentioned he would never force you into a situation that you didn’t want, but he wanted you to keep your end of the deal no matter what. At first, you were unsure of it all. He was a handsome guy, he made lots of money, and all you would have to do was fuck him to have anything you so pleased. It was nerve wracking, though. You were going to be intimate with a man who was older than you, and he was going to give you anything you wanted after? There was a lot to ask, but you weren’t sure how to bring it up.

After a long phone call with the man, you had fully agreed to the terms he set for you. Koko had also explained to you that if at any point you would like to terminate it, he had no issue with that. You were relieved to hear such a thing. At least he wasn’t some deeply obsessed man who wouldn’t let you go if you asked.

The very first time you wanted to buy something, you were nervous. You were on Sephora, browsing the different eyeshadow palette’s or lipsticks you thought would fit nice on your skin. You had placed a few items into your cart. Your eyes drifted to the total and your chest practically started hurting the moment you saw it. It came out to $157.67. Part of you wasn’t so sure if you should ask Koko. It was his money, and you would always feel bad whenever any friend or family member spent money on you. You knew you wouldn’t have to give Koko a single cent back, but what would he say? There was a chance he would laugh at you and say no to the offer. It would piss you off, yes, but that thought was lingering in the back of your mind. You hesitated to send him the message with the total, but you eventually pressed send and left your phone to sit and wait. Your heart was racing so fast that you thought you would have had a heart attack back then. 

Within minutes, you received a reply, and his response made shivers ghost down your spine.

Koko: send me a video of you fingering yourself <3 and send me the link afterwards

After a long while of internal panic, you eventually sent Koko the video. There was silence for a little while on his end. You hoped that he didn’t somehow block you or he just lied to get what he wanted. There was a chance Koko had completely set you up, and he was going to steal the video for his own personal benefit. God, you prayed that wasn’t the case. 

Though, after ten minutes, Koko replied with a screenshot of your order. He also praised you for what you had sent him. He claimed you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever laid his eyes upon, and those comments made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. For a man who was only supposed to be your sugar daddy, he seemingly had a lot to say about your appearance. You weren’t complaining about that factor, though. You would have much rather had him commenting on that than being a weird creep asking for more. He was gladly proving himself as a respectable man, and you had gotten a new present out of it. You were very satisfied with that, and all of those worries that had you anxious disappeared once he shared that he had purchased your makeup. 

You frequently sent nudes to Koko for whatever you wanted. You began receiving many gifts and random packages that filled your room quicker than you had expected. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that Koko was spoiling you rotten with his money. He didn’t seem to have much of a problem with that either. Any time you would protest, he would shut you up by sending you random payments. You could never argue with him either. He was quite stubborn at times. 

Eventually, there came a point where you both desired to meet one another.

He planned a nice date for you two. He offered to pick you up and he even proposed the idea of taking you shopping afterwards. If you didn’t have extra studying to do, you would have taken the opportunity to go and buy some things with him. However, you declined due to your own personal things. You were very nervous to meet him. This would be the first time you saw him in person, but you had this urge to finally see the man who had been giving you money. You were all over the place when the evening arrived. When he messaged you that he was outside, you almost completely chickened out and told him you didn’t want to anymore. However, with the help of your friends and your roommate, you were able to face Kokonoi Hajime in all of his glory. 

You didn’t expect to see such a fine man, but what you weren’t expecting the most was sleeping with him that night.

The dinner had gone quite well between you both. Koko was polite, handsome, and overall a gentleman with you. The place you went to was divine and you would have never expected you would have eaten at such a great restaurant. 

Things quickly changed once the two of you had gotten into Koko’s expensive BMW. The atmosphere had shifted and there was this ache that formed between your legs. It could have been the aroma of his luxurious cologne, or the way he gripped the steering wheel as he drove. It honestly felt like this man had casted a spell on you. You just couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him at the red light. One thing led to another, and you ended up in Koko’s high rise apartment with your legs thrown over his shoulders. The sex you both indulged in was like no other. Koko wasn’t anything like those lame college guys you hooked up with. He showed you what it was like to actually fuck someone, and it only left you craving more of your sugar daddy. He worked wonders on your body, and he knew exactly where to touch you to have you melting within his grasp. You only craved more of him as the days went on, and eventually, you two started seeing one another more often. 

Whether it was giving him a blowjob for a new pair of heels, or letting him eat your pussy until you made a mess on his face, Koko was intoxicating and you only wanted him at the end of the night. 

You chewed on your bottom lip at Koko’s contact. You had no idea if the man was still awake at this dead hour. However, you decided to snap a photo of your total and message your sugar daddy. If he didn’t see it at that hour, he would probably see it the next morning and decide what to do. 

You: koko, i want these

You: [image]

You clicked your phone off and sat there for a few minutes. There was silence from your phone, so it was just a waiting game. You hoped he was awake but you weren’t forcing a response right away. You were very patient with him. Koko had a busy lifestyle, so it was understandable if he was exhausted after a long day. 

Those thoughts you had were interrupted by the vibration of your cell phone. You reached for it and was surprised to see that Koko had texted you back. 

Koko: for sure baby

Koko: you better let me pick you up 🤍 that price is high 

Your eyes grew wide at his request. It was late, very late. Your roommate was asleep in her bed already and you technically weren’t supposed to be wandering campus at that hour. Sneaking out wouldn’t be that difficult, but knowing how Koko was in bed, you knew you wouldn’t be home the next morning. Usually, you would decline and say no, but you hadn’t seen Koko at all much recently. Not gonna lie, you needed your fix of him and you wanted to see his handsome face. It wasn’t like you could message him randomly to fuck. He probably wasn’t into something like that. 

You: okay

You: atp i deserve your debit card 🙄

You were joking when you sent that reply, but you brushed that aside to go and prepare yourself for what was to come. Koko didn’t live very far from your university. He worked in the city which was not a far drive from campus, but you hardly drove there unless you absolutely had to. Koko also would pick you up. He honestly considered you his little passenger princess because of how often he would come and get you. He always picked you up in a different vehicle, though. Sometimes, he would let you pick the car he would drive you around in. It was such a luxury being Koko’s sugar baby. You couldn’t ask for anyone better.

You paused in your motions when your phone vibrated again. You grabbed it off of your bed and stared at the new text messages Koko had sent to you. 

Koko: my debit card? you really want that baby?

Your eyes widened at his reply. As much as you wanted to say no, having his card on you would give you easier access to getting the things you wanted without having to wait. 

You: i was kidding haha

Koko: i’m serious

Koko: do you want it? i don’t mind handing it over

Shock coursed through your veins at his reply. You said that as a joke, yet he sounded incredibly serious about it. You could never take Koko’s debit card like that. He often told you he had many due to having such an incredible amount of funds, but having one sounded dangerous. Though, it sounded like such a great idea. 

You: really??

Koko: yes princess

Koko: but that’s a serious trade.. if you want it you know you’ll have to pay up.

You knew full well that’s how the deal worked. He wouldn’t give away something unless there was a price at hand, which was understandable. You wondered what that might be. Koko could make sex more intense depending on the price of the item you desired. Usually, anything above two hundred was always going to involve a meet up. Whether it was just oral sex, or actual fucking. You fully assumed now that Koko was going to ask to meet up. You had no issue with that, of course, but the thrill of the situation made your thighs clench together. He was a man full of surprises. He showed you things in sex that no other man was capable of, so this could be a situation you would never forget. 

You began typing a response to the man. It was already nearly two o’clock in the morning, so you had to make a decision quickly. 

You: okay, i want your debit card koko

Sending that message was the reason you were in the situation you found yourself in now. You should have expected Koko to be the person he was, but you hadn’t expected him to pull over into a parking lot after he picked you up. You were in the backseat of his Mercedes with your thighs spread apart and his face deep between them. His tongue was buried into your pretty cunt that he had been wanting to taste for the last two weeks. Fuck, he missed you so much. He never could properly admit it out loud, but Koko wanted to see you more often than he should. You were always engraved in his mind at work. He would often fight with himself on sending you a message about your day, or simply asking what you were up to. He shouldn’t be thinking that way, but you were too difficult to resist.

Your head was lying against the cushion of his seats. Your fingernails tugged and pulled at the strands of Koko’s dual colored hair. One thing about Koko was that his head game was one of the best. He slurped and sucked on your clit with such ease, and it drove you up the wall. There was nobody else that could make you feel the way Koko made you feel. “K-Koko..! Ah.. yes! Right there!” you wiggled your hips upwards to gain more traction against his tongue. You were getting lost within him. All you could think about was him and only him.

The man shifted his eyes up at you. His pupils were slightly dilated from lust, and the pure sight of you made him only more turned on. Koko honestly couldn’t believe that such a fine woman like you ever gave him the time of day. You were perfect in every aspect. He couldn’t ever imagine himself involving another woman, but you. He honestly wondered if you felt the same way about him. In some ways, he hoped that deep down you did. Koko liked to believe that he gave you it all. He spoiled you rotten with his money and gave you all the sex you desired. He didn’t care what it might be. He would do anything for his precious sugar baby. “Yeah..? That feel good, baby girl? Heh.. you always taste as good as you look.” he used his thumb to rub circles on your clit that was swollen. You were a dripping mess when he took your panties off. It was amazing what he could do to you in just a matter of minutes. His presence alone winded you up.

He then attacked your cunt once again. His tongue swiped over your sensitive bud, earning several sharp gasps from your lips. He lapped up any slick that appeared on your pussy. He was practically eating you like you were his last meal. Koko was making you feel like you were on fire. His actions were the very thing igniting that spark within you. He could only smirk at the delightful noises that were slipping from your throat. He could listen to you like a song on repeat. 

Koko’s cock was aching inside his sweatpants. It was taking all of his strength to not completely ravage you, but that need was there. He was begging to be freed from his boxers that felt like they were closing in on him. Koko’s hold on your thighs tightened and his tongue began to move quicker, sending bolts of electricity along your abdomen from the pleasure. Your breathing had become quite heavy and your hold on his hair had tightened. He could tell that you were absolutely enjoying yourself right now. It only stroked that ego he had deep within him. He averted his gaze for a brief moment to stare at your stunning features that were twisted with pleasure. The expressions on your face made him smirk while he ate you out. He couldn’t wait to be inside of that pussy he loved so much. He craved you more than he would like to admit. Sometimes, he would find himself jerking off to your videos or photos you had sent him. His fist never compared to the way your pretty cunt would suck him in.

You were close, so fucking close. Koko could make you cum by just eating you out, which was honestly a talent. The knot inside your belly was tightening with every motion of his tongue. All you sought was that burning desire within yourself. Koko could tell by your body language and your voice that you were about to reach your peak. He wasn’t ready for you to cum yet. He wanted you to be wound up just a bit more before he’d allow that to occur. Plus, you were only ever allowed to cum on his cock.

Koko then retracted himself away from your cunt. A mix of his spit and your slick covered his chin, to which he wiped off with his hand. You whined at the loss of contact, and the denial of your orgasm. He could be so unfair sometimes with you. “Koko.. I need you..” you took his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers together. 

He could see the desperation in your eyes, and in your voice. Koko then kissed your palm and smiled at you with those nice teeth of his. He thought you were so cute like that. All whiny and needy for him to be inside of you. He wasn’t going to let you wait any longer, because as much as it sounded selfish, he wanted to fuck you too. It had been far too long since the man had played with his favorite girl. He missed you more than anything else, and all he wanted was your presence near him. “I’m here, baby.. don’t you worry.” he then leaned down towards your lips, pressing a small kiss onto you. It was sweet, and tender.

Koko pulled away after a few seconds. He then began to untie the loops of his sweatpants, pulling them downward so he could free his cock that had been aching to be freed since he took you into the backseat. Some pre-cum leaked from the tip, which he wiped off with his thumb. He tossed them somewhere in the front seat and plopped down in one of the seats. He motioned for you to come towards him. “Come here..” he patted his lap, eyeing you like you were his prized possession. 

You sat up, maneuvering yourself onto his lap so both of your thighs were on either side of him. Koko’s hands settled on your waist, taking in the touch of your soft skin. He could never get enough of how delicate you felt underneath his fingertips. It was like he was touching flower petals, silky and smooth. You were the prettiest one in the garden though. Koko positioned himself at your soaked entrance. He glided his tip against your folds, causing you to softly moan from the friction. You were so fucking wet. He loved seeing what he was able to do to your body. Seeing you up above him made his heart swell with warmth. You were like a goddess in his hands. He couldn’t believe that someone like you wasn’t in a relationship, or at least talking with someone. You deserved love. 

Could he be the one to grant that?

After some small teasing of your slit, he pushed himself inside your pussy. The two of you let out noises at the contact. Your hands squeezed at Koko’s shoulders, holding onto him as he guided your hips onto his cock. You were so tight. You hugged his dick so well that he could almost moan from how great it was. He never got tired of how your cunt felt. “Koko..! So big.. fuck..” you looked down at his shaft that was filling you up and stretching you to almost your limit. He was big, probably the biggest you’ve ever taken.

Once he was fully bottomed out, he began to thrust into your cunt. The angle was just perfect for him. Your tits were practically in his face, and every little movement caused them to bounce. If he could, he would tape every single moment of your sexual encounters. He could watch them like movies and be able to recall every little detail. Koko groaned at how nicely you sucked his cock in. He held your hips firmly and would occasionally squeeze the plush of your ass. You were just too fucking good. He never was exhausted of fucking your brains out. You were completely in utter bliss. This felt much different than before. You weren’t sure why. You assumed that maybe it was because you were both fucking in his car or maybe because you hadn’t seen Koko in weeks, but that didn’t matter. All you could focus on was the gorgeous man who was buried into your guts right now.

Koko’s pace began to increase. He found it much harder to hold back now. He had these urges that needed to be released, and after all, you were going to earn his debit card once this was all set and done. He wanted to fuck you so good that any time you stared at it you would remember what he made you feel that night. “Fuck.. so good, baby.. takin’ my cock so well. You’re such a good girl..” he gritted his teeth. “You’re my good girl, yeah? Tell me baby..” 

You stared into his lustful eyes. The pleasure in your gut was so good that you were beginning to lose focus on the situation. He was grabbing and touching you in all the right spots that made you like putty in his hands. “Mmph! Yes.. ah! Yes, Koko..” you whined, pressing your forehead against his. 

The heat inside of the car began to gradually increase from your actions. Sweat was clinging to your skin, and some of Koko’s hair was sticking to his forehead. Neither of you gave much care to that fact, because you were too lost in the moment to even think about that. Koko couldn’t help but stare at you. Your pretty face was all contorted with euphoria and your gorgeous body was so smooth within his hands. He couldn’t think of a greater image. He knew the night he fucked you for the first time that he wanted to see you again. He didn’t want someone like you to slip through his fingers, so that’s why he continued to pursue you. There was so much to like about you beyond the sex. Your personality, your smile, that beautiful laugh. He could name so much more, but it’d take him years to finish. He knew it wasn’t right. Thinking of his sugar baby as something more, but he couldn’t help himself. You were a drug he couldn’t stop coming back to.

Koko’s hand went to wrap around your throat, keeping your head in place so you made eye contact with him. He squeezed slightly, blocking some of the air from entering your lungs. Your nails scratched into his skin from the lack of oxygen. “Shit.. so fucking good f’me..” he looked into your cloudy eyes. “Fuck.. you like being my slut..? Whoring yourself out for my money.. fuck, I love spoilin’ you, princess..”

All you could do was nod and let out a small whine. He then released your throat and smiled to himself at your reaction. He knew no matter what you would always love spending his money on shit you wanted. He didn’t care how much it was either. He loved what was to come before the purchases. Though, the after made him even happier. Seeing your smiling face when he buys you gifts makes all the darkness in his day disappear. “K-Koko..” you leaned your head downwards so it was now buried into his shoulder. “Fuck.. love being y-your slut!”

Koko couldn’t hide the smirk that had written itself on his features. Of course you loved it. You always slithered back to him and that’s exactly how he knew. He decided to speed things up and begin fucking you at such a rough pace. His tip rapidly pressed against your g-spot, making white stars appear in your vision from how intense it was. 

It was moment’s like this where Koko didn’t want the night to end. He wished he could fuck you like this all of the time, but that only happened whenever you needed something. That was the deal, after all. He didn’t want to overstep your boundaries and possibly cause problems in your agreement. Koko had his urges, though. He wanted to randomly arrive at your place and just have you all to himself with no sort of item being the sole reason why. It sounded selfish, he was well aware of that, but you were the first girl to ever want to see him for a date rather than just a hookup. Sure, sugar daddies often treated their sugar babies to dates at divine restaurants, but to Koko that was something special. He knew that you probably thought of it as something common, but he never did that with just anyone he came across. Dates, sex, money, all of those things could make Koko easily attached to somebody else. Despite his brain telling him not to, he wanted you. 

He wanted you all to himself. 

He knew thinking such a thing was wrong, but the thought of someone else spoiling you with their money angered him. Seeing your body in all its glory and only toying with you made him want to go after whoever that might be. He was the only one who should be giving you the things you wanted. He should be the only one pounding your pussy until you’re almost squirting onto his cock from how great it is. You were his sugar baby. You shouldn’t rely on any other man but him to give you what you need. 

Koko reached forward to hold your face with his one hand, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes were half-lidded and you had this gorgeous fucked out expression on your features. His eyes flickered from your face then towards those glossy lips. “You’re mine.. right, princess?” No one is better than me..” his voice was deep and sort of hoarse from how much he had been groaning and grunting. 

Your walls quivered around his cock, earning a breathy chuckle from Koko. He didn’t think you would have such a reaction, but it turned him on so much. You liked when Koko was possessive over you. He had no idea, but he was for sure going to use that to his advantage. You were making such a mess on his dick too. “Y-Yes, Koko! All yours.. ah!” you nodded your head vigorously at his question. You only desired more from the man. He was making you feel things that nobody else has ever made you feel. 

Your orgasm was creeping up on you. The pool of heat inside your gut was reaching its boiling point, making you all the more needy for Koko. He could feel your walls clenching and closing around his cock, making his own pleasure increase from how tight you felt. His favorite part was watching you reach your high, because your reactions were just so sexy. He loved making you cum like the little slut you were for him. His hands gripped your hips tightly, allowing him to fuck himself upwards into you at that same pace that would send your mind into a frenzy. He was abusing your g-spot only allowing his name to slip from your plump lips. His balls were smacking against your puffy clit, making all kinds of lewd noises inside of the car.

Koko leaned in and captured your lips onto his. A sloppy kiss erupted between the two of you. He swallowed down any moans that came from your throat. He almost chuckled again when he felt you struggling to kiss him back. You were both chasing your releases, becoming so desperate for one another. Koko almost bit down on your lip from how close he was, but he refrained and pulled away. “Gonna cum..? C’mon, baby, cum on my fucking cock..” he leaned towards your ear, nibbling on your skin. “Shiittt, ‘m gonna cum inside this p-pretty cunt, pretty thing.”

You let out a cry of pleasure as soon as that knot snapped. Your orgasm hit you hard. Your whole body trembled and shook, sending shivers down your spine. Koko squeezed your hips hard enough to leave bruises when he reached his own climax. The way your pussy spasmed and clamped down on him made his high come faster than he had expected. His cum filled your walls, creating a mess that consisted of your arousal and his around his cock to make it seem white. 

You let yourself slump onto his body. The two of you panted, trying to recover from your orgasms. A layer of fog had blanketed the window and both of you were quite messy. Koko rested his arm around your waist, placing his chin atop of your head. In all honesty, he didn’t want to let you go home yet. He wanted to sit there for a few minutes just bathing in your embrace, because he knew the moment you went home he would go back into his empty bed and imagine you lying beside him in his sheets. He also feared possibly staining the seats of his car by pulling out, so he decided to just keep himself inside you for a little while. Neither of you had anywhere to be at that moment. 

There was a comfortable silence that surrounded you. It was broken when Koko cleared his throat and reached for his wallet that was in the pocket of his sweatpants he had discarded earlier. He opened it and removed his debit card from the many spots he had in his wallet. He also reached into it and pulled out several one hundred dollar bills. “This is for you, baby.” he then reached under your shirt and shoved the bills into your bra. He also slid his debit card along with the cash. You were surprised to see him put them there, but it was Koko of all people. He always had the ability to catch you off guard.

You looked down at Koko. You seemed quite tired and he could sense it from your lazy body language. You were so cute when you were sleepy. “Thank you, Koko..” you touched his cheeks with your hands, rubbing your thumbs against his skin. A smile made its way onto your features from his gesture.

He pecked your lips, bringing your body closer to his. Your touch made him melt from how warm it was. “Anything for you..” he buried his face into your neck, inhaling your natural scent. His mind only thought of you for the rest of the evening. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, you would see him as someone more than just your sugar daddy.

[scorpioriesling]

May I please politely beg for a fic based on the Eris bc post you did? It was so good and I’d love to see him confront Rhys + co and taking care/loving reader

I’m the “Bad Guy”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warnings: some graphic-ish injury

Summary: Eris Vanserra; he was your… what? Enemy? Ally? Both? Sort of — at least, that’s what Rhysand says, and whatever your High Lord says, goes. But, Eris saw you for more than anyone in your court ever could, and deep down you knew he had one more title, reserved for just you: true love. What happens when you’re in danger, and he’s the first and only one you go running to?

SR’s Note: Yes you absolutely can have a fic based on Eris’ HC in this post. No need to beg — I’m happy to oblige. Here it is, I hope you like it. xoxo

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The fire crackled and burned in the fireplace, embers creating a soft glow in the darkened sitting room. Eris was alone, lounging on the sofa in the Forest House, his newest read in hand. He liked spending his time this way — alone, reading, warm. He felt… content.

Little did he know, you’d quite enjoyed your evenings the same way.

Sure, he knew you shared an interest in reading. That’s where he usually found you when he’d visit the Night Court — shelf combing in the library of the House of Wind; curled in a chair, a different book to read each time he would see you again; sometimes, you’d even be caught talking about your favorite ones with Nesta. You quite enjoyed her, as well as her company and character, as she was very honest and real with you.

Yet, another thing in you’d shared in common.

On this particular evening though, the sun had already long set and the stars were sprinkling the sky when Eris felt his body tense on instinct. He had suddenly lost interest in what he was reading when he heard a commotion coming from outside. Well, not a commotion, but rather some sort of… crying. Whimpering, rather. He straightened in his chair, straining his ears to hear what was happening beyond the windows of the Forest House.

Usually, when this happened, it was the work of Beron — some cruel or unusual punishment that Eris had learned long ago to stay out of. Recently, tensions were running high with the Night Court; though Eris was still secretly meeting with them, it didn’t change that his father wanted to sever all ties with the solar court completely.

But this… this time, it was different.

“Please… please…”

Eris’ heartstrings pulled in his chest as he strained to listen, wanting to make any excuse or reason for his ears to be deceiving him.

But, he knew in his heart, they were not.

In an instant, he’d snapped his novel shut and was racing toward the front door. He threw it open, rounding the corner of the house and bolting for the enormous hedge maze in the backyard of the grounds. He wasn’t sure exactly what had come over him; on any other day, he’d leave you to suffer as he would the other Night Court Inner Circle members. But the squeeze of barbed wire around his heart propelled him forward.

He knew you were here. He knew it was you that needed him.

It was an odd feeling, tearing around corners in search of the one woman he’d thought over and over about torturing. He’d thought of you crying. He’d thought about how he could hurt you. Did that make him a bad person? Maybe. So be it. You weren’t perfect either. Over the last few years, he’d even thought of how he’d kill you himself — just, once, he’d thought of this. It was during a meeting with the entire Inner Circle, of course; Eris was present. He’d arrived early and heard you, again, talking to Nesta about your ideas on strategy and negotiation. Though you were speaking of ideas that would affect him directly, he didn’t care — the ideas were good. Nesta wasn’t shy to give credit where it was due, either.

But, none of that mattered because during the meeting, you hadn’t opened your mouth once or said a word about your ideas. You’d tried to interject, actually — but Rhysand was quick to silence you.

But how did you handle that?

Like a good pet would. You sat, and stayed silent. Just like you always did. You’d never challenge your High Lord, oh Cauldron no — he could just simply use you as a doormat, and it wouldn’t matter.

Maybe that’s what pissed Eris off so badly.

He knew what you were capable of, what you had to offer, and what you were worth; but it seemed that most of the Inner Circle didn’t bat an eye at you, especially Rhys, whom you bowed to and that was that. Your talents could be used for so much more, but you always stayed within the guidelines in which you were allowed.

“Please… Eris…someone help me…”

Eyes straining in the night, Eris followed your pained cries until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large marble water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck. Drying crimson flakes dirtied your usually vibrant tendrils, and your hands braced over your abdomen, hot tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you peered up at him in desperation. His heart split in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him as he took in your appearance in full.

But, his sadness turned very quickly, to anger. You laid, panting and in pain, in his court, on his grounds. No explanation, no one coming to help you. He felt... violent.

He knelt down to your level, leaning in and stretching a hand out to trail over your face, registering the blood pouring from inside your lip. He then reached up to move your hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing maroon pool you two were in.

Well, one of the causes. Your hands still covered your stomach.

He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, a few blood-tainted drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over the bone. You relaxed a bit at his touch, though he usually appeared so tense and malicious. When he looked into your eyes again, his whiskey irises were dulled to a deep bourbon, and his jaw was clenched tight.

"Come with me."

He stood then and wrapped his arms around your knees and lower back, scooping you up and carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out a few small yelps here and there as the searing pain in your stomach was getting to be too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. Your usually soft eyes met his, and his wire-wrapped heart strained once more. He’d felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were in his eyes. A gentle, wise, little doe. His little doe.

Whatever he’d been feeling before, it was long gone. The only thoughts clouding his mind were ones of keeping you safe, helping you in every way he could, and providing you with everything you could need.

Little did he realize, you just needed him. Wasn’t that why you were there in the first place?

When Eris had finally made it inside, he sat you gently on the sofa in front of the fireplace, and ran to the washroom. It wasn’t long before he’d returned, presenting a small wet cloth in one hand and taking your chin between his fingers kindly in the other. He began to wipe away the trailing stains all over your delicate skin, trying so hard to stay gentle with you; trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others. He felt better seeing you relax into his touch a bit as he continued to work.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. It was one thing he pretended to hate; he “hated” your kindness to everyone, even his father, of all people. He “hated” your soft voice, one he wasn’t used to hearing all that often. He also “hated” your gentle loving nature — so, so much he “hated” it.

He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes to attempt to ground his senses and avoid thinking about punishing whoever hurt you like this. It only caused him more agony, watching as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping away the last of the blood from your hairline, he dropped his head for a moment, raking a hand through his hair.

“I can’t stall for you any longer, love.” He said softly. Your stomach muscles continued to tense under your palms, and you watched as he rolled a clean cloth between his hands.

"I’m going to put this,” he held up the rolled cloth.

“In here," he tucked it into your open mouth. You closed your mouth over it, so usually defiant towards your “sworn enemy”, but, really...

You'd do anything he asked of you.

His hands moved to cover your bloody ones, still clutching at your stomach.

"Y/N... you’re going to have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, fresh pain raging from the wound in your abdomen. Eris sighs, looking to you with pleading eyes.

“Please, Y/N… you have to help me help you.” His thumbs stroke over your knuckles, now covered in your blood — and you begin to remove your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp as he sees your laceration in full, and shakes his head slowly. He sits back on his knees, positioning himself between yours.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your clammy fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on yours for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest,” he begins. “I've thought about hurting you before, as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus on his words as your mind started to fog over, your vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view between your knees, his fingers ablaze with his gift of fire. You immediately sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again, his tone warning. His fingers meets your bubbling would, flames searing the skin as a scream tears through your dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for just a moment — only to press heat onto your would again within seconds.

Your hands claw at the collar of his white button down, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would, flames stinging and burning your sensitive flesh.

Over. Over. Over again.

You tilt your head back, the familiar weightless feeling becoming all too apparent. You felt it coming; you were going to black out. His once-white collar begins to slip from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before glazing over as you slink into darkness.

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

Soft streams of sunlight bathe the room in a golden glow when you open your eyes again. You register the feeling of comfy, loose-fitting pants amid the cool, mahogany silk sheets you’re enveloped in. You blink a few times, and reach a hand up to rub the sleep from your eyes.

When your eyes adjust, you realize what’s so different; everything. The sun is illuminating the room from a window. A window across this… bedroom, with a stoked fireplace and four poster oak bed. A bed with mahogany sheets, a stark contrast to your usual lilac ones at home — as well as the teakwood bookshelf along the far wall. At least those are familiar, most of the titles. One novel is laying on the window seat; it’s one you’d just finished last week.

Then, the realization hits you; you were in Eris' room.

You try to sit up, but wince in pain and end up laying back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you donned. A thick bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing your abdominal injury. Your mind wandered to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

Within moments, Eris appeared in the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" In three steps, he’s made it to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head in honesty, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

He knew you’d be honest with him. Yet, another thing he “hated” about you.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to choke out. Eris readjusts to face you, scooting closer and reaching out a hand to stroke through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of freezing snow under your knees, the jagged rocks slicing into your palms would only be the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you swallow, the lump in your throat only growing as another tear slips free. Usually, he’d be the type to taunt you for crying or appearing so weak, but Eris only brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tears away.

"The fucking Blood Rite?" He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second. The muscle in his jaw feathers as his eyes train on yours, and you nod in confirmation. His other hand rests on yours clasped atop the sheets, and you can’t help but register the heat he is emitting, even from the small touch.

He sighs, hanging his head low and shaking it slowly. When he makes eye contact again, he takes your hands reassuringly in his. “Y/N, I’m only going to ask you one more time. Who. Did. This. To you.” You can practically see the flames dancing in his irises, and you lean forward an inch, almost nose to nose with him. His strong scent of cinnamon and burnt timber wafts through your senses, and you feel a small tug on your heartstrings.

“Eris, look it’s not anyone’s fault, okay? I mean, well, it is…” you begin with a sigh, sniffling and wiping at your eyes. “I was sleeping over at the House of Wind with Nesta and Gwyn and Emerie, and… oh, the guys were there too, for most of the night. Cassian and Azriel.” You explain. He nods for you to continue.

“Well, we were just having a nice time and when we went to sleep, I don’t know I just… one minute I was asleep and the next, I had a mask on my eyes and someone was… uh…. mm… uhm covering my mouth and… Nesta was screaming-“ you hadn’t noticed your hands beginning to shake, until Eris laced his fingers with yours. You took a steadying breath, but the shaking only subsided a little as you still remembered the horrors of the night prior.

“So… Cassian and Azriel. They were supposed to be watching you.” Eris says evenly. You look at him incredulously.

“Watching? Oh, hardly. I mean, we’re not eight years old, Eris.” You explain. He nods, biting the inside of his cheek and contemplating your words. You can practically see the gears turning in that beautiful little head.

“It seems a little chat is in order.” He chides. Your eyes widen, and your hand braces on his bicep. He glances down at your touch, then back to your face again, nose still just inches from yours.

“No! Uh… I mean, no. Please.” You say. “They haven’t done anything wrong, and-“

“I’d hardly say allowing for you to be kidnapped for the damned Blood Rite is an inexcusable offense.” He interrupts. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Andddd, I shouldn’t have been allowed to winnow at the Blood Rite. Anyone found using their powers or plotting to escape the rite once it’s begun is…” you trail off. He nods. He knows; it’s an executable offense. Bringing any of this to attention could perhaps put you in more danger.

He didn’t care. He was prepared to do anything to save you, just as he’d done the night before. He definitely wouldn’t allow some dirty Illyrians get their hands on you again, either.

“How were you able to winnow, anyway? I thought powers weren’t able to be used on Romiel during the Blood Rite,” he asks, quirking a brow. You shrug, wincing and regretting the movement.

“I don’t know… maybe, since no one knows I am capable of winnowing, they didn’t think it’d be necessary to shield those abilities from me? I don’t know Eris, I don’t know how all this works.” You say exasterbatedly, absentmindedly wiping at your nose again. Eris only seems to become more troubled by your response.

“So… they didn’t teach you to winnow, you just… did it… and they didn’t think you could do anything with your powers, so much so that no one bothered to remove them?” His voice pitches, and you nod in agreement.

“I suppose.” He slips his hand from yours, standing and straightening his shirt. He moves toward the door, not uttering another word.

“Eris, where are you-“

“Y/N, trust me; I’m only doing you justice. You’ll thank me later, dove.”

: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ

“What are you doing out of bed?”

You hear him before you see him. When you slowly turn from your spot at the stovetop, Eris is leaned against the doorframe, a cocky grin on his lips, brow raised in question. You roll your eyes, the only movement you can do at normal speed without tensing in pain.

“Well, smart guy,” you say. “You ran off and left me for half the day, and didn’t feed me. So, I forced myself up and… went on a little scavenger hunt. To the kitchen.” You say simply. He scoffs and strides over to you, stopping to lean against the counter behind you. You turn to face him, and he glances at the bandage peeking out from below your top.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, no tone or condescension evident in his voice. You cautiously take his hand in yours, and his eyes gaze at you in silent question. You press his palm to your side, and smile softly at him. All those years thinking he was your enemy; all those years thinking he would truly hurt you; all those years suppressing what you knew was true all along. Maybe he wasn’t the bad guy that everyone made him out to be. You knew he was a good male.

“I'm stronger than you thought, hmm?” You say with a wink. His eyes soften, and a little smile plays on his lips as his other hand braces your other hip bone. He pulls you close, so close your pelvis is touching his upper thighs. You peer up at him through your lashes as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’ve always been the strongest woman I’ve known.”

You blush at his words, finally accepting what you’ve been running from all along; you care for Eris. Truly, you did. Why else would you winnow here, of all places? Why else would you feel a familiar tug on your heart strings when he was around?

You cared.

And, Cauldron behold; he did too.

“And… you had to show me how strong you could be today?” You ask, your tone dipping low. Eris rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“All I did was go over there, and demand to know why the hell they’d allow for you to be kidnapped in your own home-“ You gasp and swat his arm lightly.

“Eris!” You scold. He grins down at you, taking your face in his hands and looking at you lovingly.

“Maybe I should irritate you more… look at you, taking initiative and putting me in my place.” He chuckles. Your face reddens, and you stare at him wide-eyed as he runs his knuckles down your jaw, his cool silver ring easing the burning hot you felt beneath your cheek.

“Maybe you should do what you're suppos-“ Eris cuts you off with a tsk tsk tsk, pulling you in close and finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You part your lips, fingers caressing his jaw and threading through his hair as his lips dance with yours. His fingers trail from your cheek down to your waist, holding you close as one hand runs up and down your side; grabbing firmly when your teeth graze his bottom lip. He pulls away, breathless as he supplies you a feline grin.

“Now, where is the fun in that?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

So much planning

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter crossover

Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky

Description: Dazai and Fyodor still don't get along. But they have few things in common. Both are genius. Both have twisted morals. And both will turn to dust anyone, who dared to hurt you.

Warning: OOC. Mewing Dazai. Fyodor sings lullaby to reader. Nightmares. Slight religious fanaticism. People threw rocks at Reader, Neuvillette do some damage on Reader. English is my second language.

"SINNER!"

A rock was thrown at you. You tried to dodge, but braces on your legs and rope around your neck, that was tied to a wooden post. The rock hit your shoulder. You can't even scream or beg. A metal construction in your mouth won't let you close your mouth, or make any sort of sound.

"MONSTER!"

Another rock was thrown at you. This one hit your chest.

You were cold. You were freezing. The rugs they forced you to wear couldn't stand against Shezhnaya's wind and snow.

"PAY WITH YOUR BLOOD!"

More and more rocks were thrown at your direction. And you can't do anything to stop them.

Yet, you knew, that they won't let you die now.

Not for the next week.

Each day, you will be transported to a different city. And, starting from dusk to dawn, you were chained in the main square. And people were taking their anger out on you.

You were in Snezhnaya today.

Six more cities left.

Six more days before your execution.

Your life will end before Creator's eyes.

________

You woke up, sobbing. You blinked your tears away and look around. You were home. In your room. Not in Teyvat.

You took a quick glance at the clock.

11:00 pm.

You went to bed 30 minutes ago.

You put your head back on the pillow, trying to fall asleep again. And then you heard it.

"Meow"

You sat up on your bed.

"Meow"

You looked down.

You saw Dazai.

He sat on the floor, before your bed. He put elbows on your bed, resting his chin on his hands.

Dazai looked... soft. He had a small smile on his face. His eyes sparkled.

And you saw, that he was worried.

Dazai meowed again.

"Meow."

You can't help, but smile. Back then, before you... were transported in... Teyvat, you jokingly called Dazai a cat. Because every time he had a smile or a grin on his face, he looked like he would start meowing.

Dazai remembered that.

That's why, after every time you had a nightmare about Teyvat, Dazai, among other things, would meow, to make you feel better.

Meanwhile, Dazai put his face closer to yours and rub his nose against yours.

"Mrrrrp."

You laughed quietly, raising your arm. You scratch Dazai behind the ear. He started purring.

"You knew, that you shouldn't do the cat act, right?" ask you. Dazai hummed.

"I want to do that. It makes you happy." Dazai pet you on a head. "Want some company?"

You shifted a little, making some space for Dazai. You were sleepy. You lay your head back on your pillow and close your eyes.

Through sleep, you felt, how someone lay down next to you. A familiar scent of almond, rum and cherry filled your nose. Dazai firmly pressed you against his chest. You felt safer. Safe enough, to try to go back to sleep again.

______

Dazai was listening to your breathing. You didn't have a new nightmare. For now. Dazai hopped, that it will stay this way. Still, he won't bet too much on it.

The door to your room was opened again. Dazai didn't turn his head. He knew who it was.

Without saying a word, Dazai pressed you harder against his chest and carefully moved, changing your position with his.

Now, his chest was touching your back. Now, there was an empty spot near you on your bed.

Fyodor carefully lay down next to you, running his fingers through your hair.

They didn't talk.

For now, they were making sure, that you are okay.

"General nightmare. Didn't remember someone in particular." Dazai squeezed your hand. Fyodor slowly played with your hair.

"Panic attack?"

Dazai shook his head.

"No. Just startled."

Fyodor nodded.

"Good. At least, it is something."

Fyodor and Dazai became quiet again.

Dazai broke silence again.

"Others?"

Fyodor hugged you, scooting closer to you.

"Want revenge."

Dazai looked at you with pity.

"Nikolai?" whispered Dazai, listening to you breathing.

Fyodor closed his eyes.

"Still blames himself."

Fyodor and Dazai became silent again.

Despite working together to get to the real world, they still weren't friends. They do play chess together, or have overcomplicated games in their own minds, but, they won't call each other friends.

But, there was one exception.

You.

For you, they were ready to go beyond any possible goals.

All you need to do is ask. And Fyodor and Dazai will make a plan.

But, even their combined intelligence weren't enough to find you, during the month you were missing.

And their emotions went awry, when they saw you on the barn's floor.

Beaten. Tortured. Bloody.

Dazai's eyes shrank, looking somewhere in the distance. The scenes, of what he will do with people, who dared to hurt you, flash before his eyes.

"So. What should we do next?"

Fyodor's gaze was heavy. Similar thought of future massacre flooded his thoughts.

"Let's discuss some ideas. There is so much planning to do."

_________

You can't breathe.

Your heart was beating heavily, your lungs were burning, your legs refused to move.

But you can't stop. You must run.

Or he will get you.

The storm was at its peak.

Rain water greedily licked your skin. Each drop felt like lava.

The river was close. Its waters looked like they were boiling. You jumped on the first wet stone. On the second. On the third.

And your leg slipped.

Immediately, hydro energy curled around your feet, dragging you underwater.

You managed to hold your breath right before waves closed above your head.

*****

It was a torture.

Hydro dragon was playing with you.

Letting you go, letting you breathe in some treasured air. Before dragging you back underwater.

You lost the number of times you almost drowned. You only tried to grab something, that let you stay above water.

Finally, Neuvillette got tired of this game. He dragged you on the riverbank. Right to his feet.

A pair of hands... No... Draconic hands grabbed your shoulders. Sharp claws sank into them, drawing blood. You screamed, when Neuvillette moved his arms to make you stand.

Your vision was blurry. Yet, you manage to make out a pair of draconic eyes and abnormally sharp teeth.

Neuvillette put his face closer to yours.

"Got you, dirty sinner."

Sharp teeth chomped on your left ear.

Your screams and draconic satisfied rumble mixed together.

You were in pain.

Neuvillette spit something on the ground.

You tried not to look at what remains of your ear.

Neuvillette put his face closer to your second ear.

You closed your eyes. You didn't want to look.

You didn't notice a familiar girl, who was running towards you two. She was accompanied by melusines.

Before Neuvillette can tear your second ear off, Furina plunge her sword in his side.

Draconic roar made you stumble back. Falling into the river.

The last thing you saw were Furina and melusines fighting with Neuvillette.

________

You were sobbing.

Your blood was boiling.

You wanted to scream. To run. To hide.

You tried to touch your shoulders and left ear, to call for Furina and melusines. To do anything.

The hand was placed on the top of your head.

And familiar voice start singing.

Fyodor was singing.

"Котя, котенька-коток,

Котя — серенький хвосток!

Приди, котик, ночевать...

И [Т/И] качать,"

You blinked your tears away. You felt, how Dazai embrace became tighter. He started running his fingers up and down your arm.

Fyodor rubbed your tears away.

"Уж я котеньке-коту,

За работу заплачу:

Дам кусочек пирога

И кувшинчик молока."

You didn't want to protest. You didn't care, that you are too old for lullabies. You wanted some comfort. Some stability. Feel safe.

Fyodor put his chin on the top of your head.

"Платок беленький свяжу

И на шейку повяжу;

Шубку новую куплю

И сапожки закажу.¹"

You hide your face in the crook of Fyodor's neck. Dazai's forehead pressed against the back of your neck. You were warm. You yawn.

When Fyodor finished with this lullaby, he started a new one. Then another. And another.

Until you fall asleep.

*****

You were sleeping soundly for two hours now. Fyodor and Dazai weren't sleeping. They choose to look over you tonight.

And, in the dark of the night, they were planning.

Planning a revenge on people of Teyvat.

And on someone, named Neuvillette, whose name you screamed in your last nightmare.

Dazai looked Fyodor in the eyes.

Brown eyes met purple eyes.

"Vampire outbreak."

"Economy crisis."

"Arahabaki and Demonic Beast Guivre"

"Cannibalism"

"Lovecraft"

"Spare someone?"

"Only if Iris Flower want it."

"No letting Myshonok near portal or Teyvat."

"Not even the smallest glances."

Word after word.

Slowly, the plan of Teyvat's destruction will be finished.

For now, they will simply exchange some ideas. And make sure, that you are safe.

______

1. Russian lullaby.

Kitty, kitty-cat,

Kitty - gray tail!

Come, cat, spend the night,

Rock [Y/N]

Kitty, kitty-cat,

I will pay for your work:

I'll give you a piece of the pie

And a jug of milk.

I will knit you white scarf

And I’ll tie it around your neck;

I'll buy you a new fur coat

And I'll order you boots."

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Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters

[ablatheringblatherskite]

Raoul not just as a foil to Erik, but also a painful reminder of what Erik COULD have been.

Erik as someone who had a heart too big for a world so cruel. Raoul as a lover who loves so much that it hurts him.

Erik hating Raoul not just because he's jealous of him, but also because when he saw him, he saw himself. If things were different, maybe that could've been him. Which makes it hurt even more when Christine chooses Raoul, because it isn't just because she's going with someone else, or someone he hates, but because she's going with someone Erik so desperately wishes to be.

And because of that he can't fully hate him, because Raoul knows how to give Christine the love that Erik yearns to give her but can't. Because he doesn't know how. But Raoul can, because he was loved. Sure, maybe his dad did hate him (something he and Erik might also have in common), couldn't look at him because his mom died giving birth to him, but he had his siblings. And Erik had no one.

Raoul and Erik are foils to each other yet they are also so similar, because they love so hard. Love to the point of destruction. It's just that the world is cruel, and favors some and hates the others. And it's not fair, and never is fair. And I'd like to think that if Raoul had the chance to understand Erik more, like Christine and the Daroga did, then I think he would've felt a sort of kinship with him, too. With the man who has a heart too big for such a cruel world, just like Raoul has a heart too big to ever truly belong.

(thoughts after a lovely painful convo with @dont-do-rice-babes)