#they were fucking hung up on the “psychological problems” he had

[mold-girl]

This is the latest, and the most enraging, femicide case in turkey

A male who has been obsessed with a girl has killed her and her best friend before killing himself.

He forcefully took her to a historical castle, she was screaming for her life the whole way there yet noone intertwined. He decapitated her and sent the location to her mom saying "your daughter is resting peacefully" when her mom arrived there he threw her daughters head at her.

He has been obsessively stalking her for over 5 years, they had a restraining order agaist him and she even stopped going to school and started homeschooling because of him. Yet one day he decided that he wanted to kill her and kill himself and that was it.

She fought for her life the whole time but just a male deciding that her life was over was enough for her to die.

[anxresi]

She's already been punished enough...

...By being part of one the worst shows of all time, dufus.

A few points here, in the order of the OP presented their dubious 'case' (though I suspect this isn't actually how they feel and this is a somewhat disingenuous attempt was to provoke a reaction from a lot of others when they sent this to Reddit, in which case... JOB DONE).

1. Bullying, as bad as it can be, is not a jailable offence. especially the relative mild incidences we've seen in the show (up till S4 that is, which we'll get to later) Next.

2. As every right-minded person knows, this is 'New Chloe' e.g Chloe specifically created by Mr Astruc for the S3 finale onwards which bears no relation to 'Old Chloe'. 'Old Chloe' actually had personality, layers, humanity, humour, was a great super-anti-hero, the stirrings of redemption in her.... 'New Chloe' is just an out-and-out psychopath with no depth to her whatsoever apart from to be as ineptly evil as possible and increasingly embarrass herself with every tortuous appearance so Thomas can get his sick jollies, so this doesn't count. Sorry.

3. See: 2. Also, Zoe shouldn't exist... so, there's that. If you want to know why, please see my other posts... as I am saving up all my ire for something far more important as you'll find out below...

4. Now this is the one that REALLY boils my piss. How can I put this politely... Fuck off, you fucking cunt. Chloe's fucking father ENABLED her fucking behavior for fucking years by fucking throwing his money at the fucking problem instead of paying for the fucking psychological help she clearly fucking well needed and fucking IGNORED everything when her fucking mother regularly left Chloe alone, told her she was fucking worthless, didn't bother celebrating her fucking birthdays, forgot her fucking name time and time again...

I could go on. And you're telling me Andre is the FUCKING victim instead of Chloe, this FUCKING corrupt mayor. this FUCKING waste of space, this FUCKING pathetic excuse of a man who as her FUCKING FATHER could've put his FUCKING foot down at any FUCKING time and simply said "No?" What kind of a fucking 'mature' adult is he, anyway?! I suppose the OP also thinks fucking Gabriel deserved his fucking statue as well, in fact they should've hung fucking garlands of flowers from it whilst someone played fucking panpipes and everybody else fucking danced around. Fuck you.

Also worth noting here that Chloe fucking ADORED her father until the exceedingly unwelcome S4 'reboot' where she suddenly saw him as a fucking walking piggy bank (I won't even mention how they purposefully ruined her relations with Adrien, Sabrina, even her own butler... Chloe can't have any happiness in her life. It simply ISN'T ALLOWED).

Then they have the cheek to let his daughter be 'disowned' by him in the S5 finale and banished to London as if he fucking did nothing wrong in facilitating her attitude whilst failing to defend her against her despicable mother's abuse. (Yes, I said ABUSE I know the creator doesn't view it as such, but he's a fucking moron so what can you do?) Bullshit. Complete and utter undiluted diarrhea dripping from a bull's anal sac... that's what this is. I hope I painted an accurate picture for all of you. Sorry if you were eating.

So, it was supposably a happy ending that Andre got to fucking adopt another man's child without any reprecussions for his past actions, as he embarked on his new career as a fucking film director. What? You think that wasn't ENOUGH punishment for Chloe, OP? You think she should go to fucking jail as well, for DARING to be a child victim of incessant abuse, both in-canon and in-writing? I never thought I'd meet a person who's more radicalised in their blind hatred of Chloe than fucking Mr Astruc, but here we are. I tell you, some people on this exploding planet of ours scare me. Legit.

5. See 2 again. This huge disparity in writing between the two Chloes is getting stupid now, and anyone who can't see the contrast between now and then... I really can't help you. Either take off your Chloe-hating goggles to smell the coffee, or go read someone that agrees with you 100% and won't pop your tiny safe-space bubble with indisputable facts. Goodbye.

6. I think Chloe is more 14... but it doesn't really matter. Still a child, still should be treated as one. Which makes Astruc's obsessive loathing of her even more disturbing... and even more so this dude's.

That's it. This was probably an entirely unnecessary pot-pourri of hot topics I've regurgitated before, but as soon as I saw this article (particularly Pic 4) I just had to jump on my soapbox once more to regale the world about the kind of arrant nonsense I see about Chloe sometimes online, particularly regarding the subject of parental abuse and whether her treatment by the show's narrative was justified (SPOILER: It wasn't, and if you disagree I need you to fuck off RIGHT NOW).

Because if people like me don't defend her and the terrible writing she's been subjected to for the last few seasons (at least she's in good company there though), who will?

Not the person who made her, that's for sure. She may be a fictional character but... I get the feel her situation is similar to a lot of other neglected and mistreated kids out there who lash out at others for obvious reasons. And by handling her arc (if you can even call it that) in this inexcusable way... I don't just think the show has just done her a disservice. I think they've outright destroyed her and the hopes of many others watching.

What a great message to send to every youngster who could relate. I hope the makers are proud of themselves. Fucking idiots.

[theywantedplayer]

Masters list

AN-hey guys sorry I’ve been MIA for the past couple of months I graduated and I was travelling around Europe and now I’m in university and I only really wanna be posting fanfiction during the NHL season so I am really busy with school, but I will do my best to keep this updated.

19/45 on your psychology test you couldn’t believe it! You studied so much before and still, that was the mark on the test. It’s been bothering you for days and Quinn has started to notice your constant studying

"Studying again?" You hear him say behind you

You are hunched over your desk, taking notes from the slides your professor gave online. Your back hurt from how you were sitting, but you didn’t want to move in fear you stop studying, and you couldn’t afford that.

“Mmhm” was all you could muster out

he didn’t say anything in response, but you could hear him walking towards you. You could feel his presence beside you looking down at your colour coated notes.

“ wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked.

He began to rub soft, soothing circles on your back, trying to ease the pain. He knew your back was going through.

“ I just need to study more” you answer

You weren’t lying; you were just not telling him you had bombed your test. Quinn had enough on his plate since the NHL season just started, and since he was the captain of his team, you didn’t want to be another person he had to care for. another fire He had to put out, just another problem to deal with.

There was a moment of silence making you think he let it go, but he sighed before he spoke again

“ is this about the mark on your last test?”

How the fuck did he know that? Your body tensed up from his words, and you knew that he could feel it under his hand.

“ you left it on the counter the other day” he said again

You still didn’t speak, just looking down at your paper through tears. You felt so embarrassed that he saw the mark it had to be the worst in your class. A couple of tears fell on your notes, not going unseen from Quinn. He knelt down beside you, turning your chair to face him, your head was hung low with shame, but Quinn could still see your tear-filled face.

“Baby come on you don’t have to be embarrassed” he tried “ It’s just one test.”

“ yeah just one test worth 20% of my fucking grade” you protested taking a shaky breath “Not even 50% Quinn fuck not even 50 goddamn percent” you groaned

You were no longer even embarrassed just frustrated with yourself. Quinn reached up and wiped your tears, giving you a soft smile causing you to relax just a little bit.

“Y/n We both know if I had to take that test it would fuck me I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide this stuff from me.” He comforted you

“I love you. you know that one test doesn’t change that.”

A smile spread across your face as you listened to his words

“ I know and I love you too”

“Now give me a hug and you can go back to studying OK? Just not for too long. I want to spend some time with you before I have to leave for practice.” he spoke as you both got up he pulled you into a tight hug, kissing the top of your head as you took a deep breath, squeezing him a little bit more.

“ thank you”

[queerheadcanoncentral]

hi hi! hope you're doing good :)

im a sucker for angst and wilson, so could you please write some hcs for him? could include anything from bad childhood memories, mental health issues etc! thanks you sm if you do it :))

James Wilson angst headcanons

Cw: bullying, homophobia, the f-slur, self-harm, alcohol, pills, suicidal thoughts and attempts, depression, self image issues, it's all angst.

—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—⁠☆—

He was a bit feminine in his behaviour as a child and got relentlessly bullied for it until he graduated from highschool. It was both physical and psychological. He got beat up, spat at, humiliated and called names. He never stood up for himself and is regretting it to this day.

One time on a middle school camping trip he got pulled out form his cabin by the other boys and dragged outside. Some of the boys were holding his arms behind him, some were putting lipstick on his lips, cheeks, eyelids and wrote "faggot" on his forehead, some were stripping him down and putting women's underwear and a bra on him. They tied his wrists above his head and hung him by them from a tree branch. While it was happening, some of the boys went to get girls from their cabins, so by the time he was put up on a tree, everyone was laughing at him. It took a few the worst minutes of his life for the teachers to wake up and help him get down. When teachers tried to discover who did this to him, none of his classmates said anything and neither did he.

He is so overwhelmed all the fucking time. The constant pressure of taking care of his patients while taking care of House and by extend, his patients, is killing him.

Most of the days he just fells numb.

He gets dressed, brushes his teeth, puts on a smile for everyone else and goes to work, works, eats lunch, works some more, goes home eats dinner by himself, goes to sleep. rinse and repeat. that's what he considers a good day.

His empathy is killing him. Not only does he have to care all the time about everyone, but he also has to care in place of everyone else because why does it seem like no one else actually cares they say that they do but they don't because of they did no one would be alone no one would have to die alone like his patients like so many people around the world and like him.

Nobody cares about him like he cares about other people and it is killing him.

He drinks wine every night. Wine or whiskey or scotch. People usually don't mind when you drink a glass of wine with dinner…or five; they just think to themselves “it's just wine, it's classy, it's french” - but when you do it everyday, it's a problem.

He has attempted at least twice, one of which was after Amber died. The night he and House met he was gonna attempt but while he was in jail he was glad that he had no way of carrying through on his plan. That may be part of the reason why he is still friends with House, he feels like he owes his life to him and he hates him for it sometimes.

His go-to are pills and alcohol, maybe because it leaves a bigger chance that he will wake up the next morning, which sucks but oh well-

He feels like a fraud. He has built this image of himself of a man who likes everyone, always gives a shit, and who will be there no matter the time of day or if he has something going on himself. But often that is not who he is in his thoughts. In his thoughts he catches himself being bitter and toxic and he feels horrible about it; he completely disregards all the times that he is kind and genuinely cares and the fact that it doesn't really matter what you think as long as you don't say it out loud and your actions are good.

attachment issues.

He has a tendency to take on others problems as his own as if him carrying the burden of their issues will take them off of others.

He isn't good with loss. You would think that after three divorces he would get a hang of it, but he hasn't. Every time he loses someone, wether they just left or passed away, it hits him like a ton of bricks and sends him down a spiral of guilt and booze. He wonders why? What he could have done differently? Why are they doing this to him?; every time it feels like someone is ripping his heart out of his chest with hands lined with barbed wire.

That's why he cuts himself. Usually on his thighs or upper arms so that he can still roll up his sleeves at work without anyone seeing the scars. Even during his lowest lows he still thinks about others. He still comes into work the next day even tho he has a raging hangover and is covered in band-aids and bandages. He still smiles at others and says his hellos on his way to his office.

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 26 here/ Series Masterlist

Chapter 27

Summary : Loki's ex fiance brings trouble.

Warning: 18+, Smut, HUGE Canon divergence(Just me making shit up), masturbation, dry humping mention of stalking, mention of psychological torture, angst, insecurities, ptsd, self deprecating behaviour, panic attack, soft precious bean loki, polite bean Loki

That night Loki was taken to a group meeting where he was instructed of things he would have to do in order to repent for the crimes, under the influence of Thanos or not, so many lives were destroyed by his actions and Loki himself wanted to redeem himself, he remembered how much people hated him but somehow he had managed to win the hearts of the people of Midgard but then he remembered Melissa. He was hoping he would not run into her this time.

He already had to deal with the matter of his ex fiance.

You couldn't sleep at all that night, you called your mother and told her that you were staying at a friend's house since your apartment had mold problems and you also told her that your phone was broken because you knew she'd continue to call and will get suspicious sooner or later.

Things seemed messy, your mother was back to hating him again and this time you had no idea how will you tell her again, you couldn't share anything with Mrs Geller and you missed Jane terribly.

Next morning you woke up to the phone ringing so you picked it up thinking that it was your mother.

"Y/n? It's Steve Rogers, I am leaving for Minesotta" you sat up as he said that.

"Umm okay..good luck and have a good journey and i hope you will find your friend"

"You pray for that y/n" you squeezed your eyes as he said that. Once he hung up you quickly showered and put on a summer dress, you missed Loki terribly, it felt like a heartbreak all over again, you knew you had him still, you knew his heart belonged to you but there was a fear eating you up, a gut feeling that something was going to go wrong. As you stepped into the dining area you found Loki, he was in earth people clothing and you always found him adorable like that, but he was accompanied by Thor as well as Natasha, Tony, Clint and Bruce, they were having a meeting of sorts so you didn't want to interrupt them. You turned around to leave but Thor had seen you already,

"Lady y/n" you stopped and turned around and everyone was just staring at you so you smiled awkwardly, your eyes met with Loki and you quickly averted your gaze, the way he was fucking you with his eyes wasn't helping at all.

"Come have a meal with us" Thor said.

"Ummm I think you guys are busy with some top secret Avengers business so I'll come back later" you mumbled nervously.

"We were just talking about the shawarma we had the other day" Tony said so you walked back to the table and took the empty chair next to Thor, there was a space next to Loki available but you didn't want to look suspicious.

"I love shawarma, the chicken one with the garlic sauce and beetroot is the best" you mumbled and you could feel their eyes on you.

"I don't like that, I like the one with tahini" Natasha mumbled as she munched on her pancakes.

"That is absolutely a good choice" you answered her, she looked so intimidating even having a normal conversation. You couldn't help but wonder if they were all the same in other universes, you wondered if all of them were good guys, heroes, the most of all you wondered if your lives were interconnected in those other universes as well.

Sometimes it was hard to process this turn of events in your life, eight months ago or should you say two days ago in this timeline you were living a completely harmless boring dead life where you had no hope or dreams for future and now you were sitting in the Avengers tower discussing the type of shawarma you liked. What the hell happened?

"Brother what are you doing?" You turned your head to look at Thor as he said that and Loki seemed horrified.

"Nothing, what do you mean?" Loki gulped.

"Why were your toes rubbing against my shin?" You burst out into a laughter as Thor said that, others did as well but Loki was so embarrassed, that sweet poodle, you really needed to hug him and kiss him as soon as possible.

"I have done no such thing brother" he answered before he went back to eating, in order to comfort him you took your heels off and rubbed over your toes up and down on his shin just like last night. The pink shimmer of embarrassment from his cheeks has faded and a smile returned to his face as he felt your touch.

After breakfast you went back to your room, if Steve would find Bucky soon then you'd have no business being here but you didn't want to leave just yet. You couldn't leave him here because you knew they won't allow him to go anywhere, Thor wouldn't take him to see you now that he had no memory of you two ever meeting.

You had to come up with something to prolong your stay here.

You stepped out of your room at the supposed lunch time wishing to run into Loki again but you weren't ready to see what you did. You found Loki, Thor and the bunch of Avengers along with tens of other people you didn't recognise, you did recognise Dalia though. There was a woman dressed in a princess gown, loaded with jewels from head to toe clutching onto the love of your life, he stood there awkwardly with his arms barely touching her waist as he tried to comfort her.

"It wasn't until that you left my beloved is when I came to the conclusion that you Loki, my love, you are all I need in my life, you're the man I want to spend the eternity with" she pulled away to speak and he opened his mouth to say something but then his eyes met with yours and he was completely baffled, you seemed hurt and he never wanted to put you through such pain ever again, he didn't understand why fate kept coming between you two. He also didn't understand why Atrishia visited him now, she never came in the previous timeline but then the previous timeline was never supposed to exist.

"Prince Loki why are these mortals staring at us? Can we go somewhere private?" She asked him so he nodded and she hooked her arm in the crook of his elbow as they left for his room.

He had hoped for her to move on because he had come so far from that place, they were never even in love with each other, even their engagement ceremony consisted of them barely speaking to each other, sure they had a rendezvous here and there but the spark just wasn't there, he never felt the toe curling heat that he experienced with you, the marriage was a political alliance, she knew that and he did too.

Before he met you he never felt that need for a partner he'd want to love day in and out but now that he had you he knew he couldn't even imagine being with someone else, he craved his father's approval but now it didn't matter to him as much as you did.

"I can not comprehend how you and Prince Thor can live here, it is so warm and crowded and mortals are so …erratic" She let out a chuckle

As soon as they reached his room, he turned to her and took a deep breath.

"Lady Atrishia i need to tell you something"

"What is it?" She looked at him curiously and he had no idea what to say to her, he couldn't tell her about you just yet, Strange has said to not tell anyone anything.

"I'm afraid I can not continue with this union of us, i reckoned that you must have carried forward with your life, i was considered dead for more than a year" he said nervously, his voice was soft but formal.

"And I have yearned for you every single day Loki, when I learned of your demise a part of me died as well. You have no indication of the predicament i have suffered through during the time, but you are alive and that is all that matters " she hugged him tightly again and he squeezed his eyes as he didn't know how else to push her away, he didn't want to be cruel to her, he was betrothed to her and he knew he had a responsibility here, breaking an engagement wasn't something that the royals took lightly. He knew she would be ridiculed for it.

"Princess Atrishia, i appreciate the concern and i apologize for every hurt that i have caused you or will do so in future but I am not in love with you and I am assured that you are not either" she chuckled and pulled away as he said that.

"Not in love with me? What is that supposed to mean Loki? I didn't come so far for you to tell me that you do not feel love for me, you will learn to love me Loki" she said to him so he took a step back from her.

"That is not how it is going to be now, I am sorry"

"You should be apologetic Loki, for offending me so when I went through all this trouble, when I have spent every night wailing for you to come back, our union was arranged and nothing has changed, you will come around Loki" she insisted and he was starting to feel offended by the sudden change in her tone.

"No I will not, my heart is not yours , it never was, the union was arranged by our families but I'm not the same man any longer, i have changed, i desire love and i have found it in someone, I am sorry"

Her eyes teared up as he said that, he felt bad about her situation but he wasn't going to hurt you any more, not for her or Odin or Frigga, after everything you two thad been through, he wasn't just going to let it all slip away from him again.

"Well who's she? Have you fallen for another princess?"

"Yes but She's not an Asgardian or from Vanaheim"

"Then who, Loki? Who else is there that you have given your heart to?"

"I'm not ready to reveal that information, you need to let go of this union and move forward, for all the hurt that I have caused you I really am deeply apologetic for the same" she crossed her arms and glared at him as he said that. She stormed out of his room and he sighed and then he followed her back into the living area

"Prince Thor, i would love to stay here for a while, arrange a feast for me, would love to experience a Midgardian celebration" she smiled at him so he grabbed her hand and gave it a formal kiss. He looked at Loki and Loki shook his head slightly but he couldn't just deny the Princess, this was her first visit.

"Come i will take you to your private chamber" Thor said to her as he gave out his arm for her to hold on to and she glared at Loki as they walked past him.

Loki looked around but you weren't there anymore and he was worried about you. He quickly went back to his room and then he teleported straight to yours, he found you on the bed all curled up, crying your heart out, the broken sniffles rendered his heart. You already had several insecurities and he was afraid he had brought them to the surface again.

He crawled on the bed and as soon as you felt him around you, you turned on your back to look at him.

"There you are" he whispered softly as he got on top of you, cupping your cheeks he wiped your tears but you were just staring at him mindlessly as if you couldn't believe that he was there.

"How did you get here" you felt his thumb rubbing against your cheek softly and he gave you a smile, just being able to hold him felt surreal again, his scent intoxicated you and made your mind go all hazy as soon as he was in such close proximity.

"Teleportation" he mumbled as he leaned down and kissed you softly, your fingers curled around his neck as he pulled away, you brought him back to you and kissed him feverishly, it felt like ages since you had touched him last even though it's barely been three days.

"God i have missed you" he hummed in agreement as you said that "Do you really remember everything or it's just me that remembers everything and you just have like bits and pieces of the memories?" You asked him as you sniffled so he kissed you

"I remember everything darling, from the moment I laid my eyes upon you to the moment we were seperated i remember each and every little thing we experienced. I remember becoming friends, best friends, then lovers, i remember the heartbreak and the fears we both had, i remember the dreams, I'm here my darling, I'm here" you nodded in desperation as he confirmed everything, not that you doubted him but you were feeling extremely insecure at the moment.

"The dress..you make it look beautiful my love" you smiled at the compliment, your legs hooked around his waist and he moaned slightly at the closeness, he had been wanting to hold you and do other dirty things with you, your presence here but him not being able to touch you was killing him.

You lifted your head up and pressed kisses on his neck, he put his hand behind your head to give you support so you weren't straining your neck like that. The way you were sucking on his skin, he knew you'd leave him all marked, it would heal soon so he didn't mind it either, if you felt territorial about him then he was going to allow you to do whatever you wanted, he needed you to know that you owned him.

"I am all yours my princess" you pulled away as he said that.

"What about the princess…the real one?"

"You're my real princess"

"And i love to be but we have to talk about the princess in the living room" he chuckled as you said that.

"I told her my heart wasn't mine any longer"

"You did?" You looked at him surprised as if he wasn't ready to destroy the multiverse for you.

"I did, I do not understand why she is staying though but I promise she won't be a trouble"

"I do feel kinda bad for her, i have been in a situation where I wasn't..picked or chosen and it hurts alot"

"I know it does, I know how it feels but I can not hurt you or our relationship just to protect her newly found feelings, we were not companions, we barely even knew each other, she didn't even come see me when I was losing it all over there" he let out a exasperated sigh as he finished his sentence so you scratched his scalp and he immediately melted into the touch.

"She knew?"

"Of Course she did, i became the King of Asgard, she must have heard"

You nodded as he said that. Maybe he was trying to make you feel better because the way she was holding onto him out there, she really seemed desperate for him.

"Maybe she was just confused about it all"

"Perhaps you are right but I know if it was you, you would have come for me, you would have come to save me"

Your eyes teared up again as he said that.

"I would come for you, anywhere anytime" you took his shirt off and the double innuendo didn't go amiss.

"Can I make love to you my darling?" He whispered in your ears and you bit on your lips as you nodded with utter desperation, tucking his hair to the side you kissed his neck again, his hands roamed over your thighs and he took your underwear off, your back arched as you felt his fingers on your wet lips, sometimes it was hard to wrap your mind around the fact that a man like him desired you this way.

Even after everything that had happened it was still incomprehensible to accept that he really wanted you and you only.

You unbuttoned his pants and pulled his cock out to stroke him slowly, he let out pretty little moans that you have been dying to hear again.

"I'm so glad you remember lo, i wasn't ready to lose you"

"I'm so happy you remember as well darling" his voice came out all breathy as the sensation in his belly grew, he was so desperate for you and he hoped you knew exactly how much he needed you like this. He made you arch your back so he could unzip the dress and pull your breasts out of the confinement, his lips latched onto your right nipple, you almost lost your train of thoughts as he sucked on them slowly one by one.

"So perfect, you are ethereal my princess" he mumbled before he licked your nipples one more time and all of a sudden he stopped and pulled away a little as he realised something.

"What's wrong?" You asked him but your hand kept stroking him.

"I uhhh.. norns darling you have to stop so I can Think" you bit on your lips as he said that.

"You want me to stop? Really?" You gave him a naughty smile and he placed his hand on yours, brought them both over your head and you felt him rubbing his cock over your lips.

"No I want us to keep going sweet girl" you moaned as his precum smeared on your clit, your body felt on fire and you wanted to keep burning in this flame. Forever and ever.

"Norns I need to stop" he let go of your hands and sat up on his knees so you looked at him with a perplexed look on your face for a second and then sat up as well, while he buttoned his pants you pulled the straps of your dress over your shoulders.

"Everything okay lo? You are worrying me" you chuckled nervously so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly.

"I don't have a protection"

"What?"

"Condoms, don't have it" your brows furrowed and it took you a second before you realized that he didn't have a condom in his vault. He only got them once you both had agreed to be more than friends, nothing like that happened in this timeline.

"Ohh…that..is a bummer" you pressed your lips together in disappointment so he smiled.

"It is alright" he said so you climbed on his lap and he was taken aback by the sudden urgency but he smiled as you sat right on his crotch and your arms wrapped around his neck.

"We will do it like this" you mumbled as your hips rolled back and forth on his crotch, the seam of his zipper rubbed against your wet naked lips and the sensation felt too good to be true. His mouth opened, jaw clenched and brows flared as he watched you move in a rhythm, his hands cupped your ass and gave them a squeeze, a guttural moan escaped his throat as the pressure built in the pit of his stomach.

He wrapped his fist around the hem of your dress and pulled it up to take it off your body, the sight of your naked body humping against his half clothed one, your breasts jiggling with every move, your eyes drunken with the feeling was too erotic and he knew it wouldn't take him long to combust.

"You're dripping on me darling" he mumbled as his eyes remained fixated on your cunt rubbing against his bulge. The image would probably make you blush later but right now you just wanted to please you both and you didn't care how obscene you must have looked.

"Mmm you are so hard lo, so perfect..it's heavenly and you are such a good boy, so pretty, i love you" you kissed him softly while your hips continued to gyrate on him.

"I love you my goddess..I'm your good boy, all yours, forever yours, you own me, I'm Yours" his voice came out in broken whispers and you kissed him again and then again.

"You promise?"

"I swear on my manhood darling" you chuckled which in turn made him laugh but both of your heads lulled backwards and he moaned loudly, a little too loud as you both chased that burning feeling together.

This was perfect, every time you gave yourself to him this way it just felt right and you felt as if you belonged to him and that he belonged to you but the moment he was away from you, when other people had his attention you felt insecure again and you had no idea how to get rid of that feeling.

As you both came he picked you up immediately and took you to the shower, you both needed it after that, in the shower he made you cum all over again as he went down on his knees and pleasured you until you had no thoughts left in your head, he was all you could think of and you wished that feeling could have lasted forever but you knew you weren't that fortunate. This new life with him had just begun and it seemed more difficult to live this relationship than the last time.

Loki couldn't stay in your room for long so he teleported back to his, he didn't want anyone to suspect you two.

In the evening Thor had organized that feast for Princess Atrishia and you asked Natasha Romanoff if you could join the feast, she glared at you a little too long before she agreed but she asked you to dress nicely, thankfully you had a fancy black dress that you had worn for your mother's and David's dinner rehearsal.

As you walked in the lounge you suddenly felt out of place, everyone seemed elegant with their suits and gowns, your eyes traced the room and you found Loki along with Thor, Loki was in a black suit while Thor had a blue suit on that seemed too small for his size, they were having a conversation with princess Atrishia, your eyes met with Loki and he gave you a sympathetic look so you quietly walked towards the bar and sat down. You noticed Tony right next to you and he was talking with that bitch Dalia. For some reason you wanted to take all your frustration by smacking the shit out of her.

"This is perfect Tony, in order to present him as a reformed man we can use his past and show the people of earth that he wasn't always evil, he was in love and engaged to a beautiful woman like her, I mean we have hit the jackpot here don't you see?" She said to Tony and all of a sudden you had a sense of dejavu.

This was Melissa fiasco all over again but this time you'd have to compete against the Princess of Vanaheim. A goddamed Princess.

Not again though, you swore to yourself that you won't allow Loki or yourself to suffer all over again. You had no Idea that Atrishia was no ordinary woman and she came here to take Loki. By hook or crook.

😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐

@annoyingsweetsstranger  @mcufan72  @nixymarvelkins  @stupidthoughtsinwriting  @fictive-sl0th  @eleniblue  @violethaze  @anukulee  @ladymischief11  @12-pm-510  @wolfsmom1 @whylokiissocute  @pics-and-fanfics  @daddylokisqueen  @olivertwistrabbit  @blog-the-lilly  @prettylittlepluviophile  @vanilla-daydreaming  @somewiseguy  @yaaamadaa-blog  @dragonmurray  @elthreetimes  @gruftiela  @thenotoriouserg  @greep215  @yallgotkik  @tactac286  @janineb86  @sflame15-blog  @nyxlaufeyson  @lokidokieokie  @purplekitten30  @sunnixart  @nikkig496-blog  @frozenhuntress67  @qardasngan  @rosecentury  @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen  @hrefna-the-raven  @jennyggggrrr

@cosniffee

[yepthatsacowalright]

Doctor Who, The Process Of Healing From Trauma, and Me: A Text Post Essay No One Asked For

Back in 2006ish, when I first started watching Doctor Who as a teenager in late high school/early college, it captivated me mind, body, and soul. I ate that early 2000s, broody-complex-hero shit up.

I loved that the Doctor grappled with the guilt and regret from some truly fucked up shit he did, and I loved that he gave the middle finger to it by going on wild, ridiculous-special-effects-ed adventures instead of attempting the mortifying ordeal of opening up about it.

I'm sure, judging by how popular the 2005 version of the show became, a lot of my generation felt similar. 9/11 hadn’t been that long ago. We were coming of age and starting to sense that the world kind of sucked major ass, and perhaps the older generations had been super lying to us about most things this whole time.

As such, Rose Tyler was living the dream as far as I was concerned. Abandoning her place in this bullshit society to go help people and save lives with someone who never settled, who always ran towards the darkness, who found ways to laugh and dance in it even…Rose's lifestyle was goals.

Not only did the Ninth and Tenth Doctor's struggle to opening up about what they'd been through or forgive themselves for it not bother teen me at all, I preferred it. It was understandable and relatable. I wasn't ready to actually look at and deal with any of my own problems either, I just didn't want to pretend like I had none. Admitting there's a problem is the first step, and that's where Nine, Ten, Rose, and me all hung out and had fun.

Rose’s "death" was when I started to feel differently. It wasn't that I didn't still enjoy the show - I kept watching through Martha and Donna's seasons, and also a little bit into Eleven's run - but it wasn't the same. I could never quite get over the loss of Rose, or how the Doctor chose to get over it by doing what he always did - ignore and repress.

It had been much easier to watch the Doctor do this with trauma when I didn't know much about what he'd been through, but every time he avoided the topic of Rose, or minimized who she was, it pissed me off. It felt bad to watch him do that to the memory of someone who mattered.

I was starting to realize that just admitting you had problems wasn't sustainable. I couldn't stay on that first step indefinitely, and Doctor Who didn't feel like it was my show anymore, which was fine. After all, it's a family-friendly series. An episode on intergalactic talk therapy is not going to be a hit with the kids.

I was off to have the one adventure the Doctor never could - to understand and manage my own mental health. Learning about psychology, learning about trauma, going to therapy. I processed, I surprised myself, I found new stories to obsess over that resonated with a different, older version of me.

Whenever I popped back into Doctor Who, it felt more nostalgic than anything else. It reminded me of how I used to feel, and how far I'd come. I had that bittersweet feeling of wishing I could connect with it the way I used to, but being grateful that the reason I couldn't was a positive, therapeutic one.

And then…the 60th Anniversary Specials.

David Tennant didn’t even do anything that different in his performance, and he admits as much in interviews. Trying to replicate what he did as the Tenth wouldn't make sense because he isn't the Tenth, and trying to do something completely new wouldn't make sense because then why bring back David at all?

He just played the role as an actor who's lived 10 more years since the last time he played the role, and brother that shit hit me hard.

All the natural, subtle, perhaps subconscious changes in him made me feel the weight of slightly too many years passing. Despite knowing I am relatively young, l’m at a point in my life where I, for the first time, feel old.

Gray hairs and smile lines that were only on the faces of grownups are now on the faces of me and my friends. I know I don't know it all, and also realize I know even less than I thought I did. Love feels deeper, loss feels heavier. I'm compelled to express feelings of gratitude and affection I used to always keep to myself. Oh, is that who I am now?

I love that the Doctor's body didn't just go back to Ten's face, but to an aged version of Ten's face. A version that would align with the aged version of Donna's. I know this was not a creative choice, it was literally just what David and Catherine look like now, but how perfect for time itself to play a role in the story, too.

I love that the Doctor, at last, had to catch up with what his body was telling him. To notice his feelings and learn what those feelings meant. Like the title of one of my favorite (and extremely relevant to this this post) books says, the body keeps the score.

And I loved the bi-generation.

I loved that Fourteen made the choice to stop and ask his friends to help him do it.

I know that RTD proposed a theory that in that moment all the previous regenerations became bi-generations as well, but I like the idea that all the others could have bi-generated, but didn't. They weren't ready to look at themselves, or ask for that help from anyone. Not until now.

And I love love LOVE Ncuti Gatwa as Fifteen. I love that the healed next Doctor is a millennial. That he is a Doctor who can freely say he loved his friends, he loved Rose, can tell his former self, "I love you."

The show's become such a beautiful portrayal of generational trauma and healing that did not know that's what it was until its end.

And now, it begins again.

[noiriarti]

The Arrangement: Armitage Hux x Reader (College AU) Ch. 1

Summary: A cuddle-buddies-to-lovers college AU.

[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 1: A Can of Homestyle Chicken Soup

It started because of a can of soup. Armitage didn't quite know how he ended up here, standing in his bathing suit in his own bathroom, waiting for you. Well, he knew, but he still thought it was the weirdest alternate universe he could have ended up in since this morning. Not that there was any other option. He wouldn't just skip out on helping you once you'd cut your hand, of course. When you split open your palm with the pull-top chicken noodle soup (homestyle), he heard your hiss in the kitchen of your shared suite from his room, and he rushed out. He was the only other one home--Kylo was at practice, Phasma was in class--and luckily, his car was parked around back. The gauze from the first-aid kit was rough against his fingers as he pressed it to your hand. You had just wanted some soup for breakfast, you said. It was clear you needed stitches, mainly because it was on your palm, easy to accidentally open again, but it was only an inch long. Armitage mentally placed a bet on three stitches, and he was right, he discovered when you had arrived to the emergency room. He was a premed, anyway. It was practically educational to be there and watch the physician work while you held his hand tightly, afraid of the needle. Three stitches later, you were strictly ordered to avoid wetting the injury, your palm almost absurdly bulked up with gauze and bandages.

That was a problem, though. Your hair was greasy, and you had an interview for an internship at four. You needed the experience--it was junior year and you had just switched into computer science--but more than that you needed to come off as a young professional, not a greaseball. But no wetting the injury meant no showering, and that meant greasy hair. You were complaining about the dilemma on the way back to your shared house in his immaculate Lexus when he practically had an out-of-body experience and asked you if you wanted his help. He had literally actually legitimately asked you to shower with him. What the fuck was wrong with him? He kicked himself mentally, but you hadn't found anything weird in the offer, and happily accepted.

At 2 p.m., he slipped on his swim trunks and walked over to the bigger bathroom. It was yours and Gwen's, technically, but he sometimes used it when Kylo hogged the one they shared. He liked yours better, anyway. It smelled nice, and it at least seemed like there were two people cleaning it, instead of one who did so regularly and one who somehow found a way to make it even more gross every time. He pulled out the folding chair he had dug out of the garage and set it up in the shower. There was no denying that this was going to be fucking weird. Since you had moved in this year, the two of you had only hung out in groups or, occasionally sipped coffee in the bleary hours of the morning together, trying to pump out some assignment or study for some test. Other than that, he didn't know you like Gwen did, though that was his own fault. He was kind of a recluse, and he was taking graduate bio and psychology courses, so he was never lounging around the house anyway. Pretty much all he needed to know was that Millie was obsessed with you, trailing you around the house and sneaking into your bedroom some nights. That was character endorsement enough.

You knocked on the door, and pushed it open gently with an awkward smile. Totally normal, hanging out in the bathroom with your roommate. Your roommate, who is shockingly hot under his crisp collared shirts, it turns out. But you elected not to think of that. At all. 

"Hey. Thanks for doing this, Armitage. I just--I'm so sorry I'm so gross. I didn't expect you, or anyone really, would have to do this for me," you said, stepping into the shower with him. You untied your robe to reveal your bikini in a way he hopefully didn't find sexy--that would make your rooming situation just downright weird.

"It's really no problem. I've seen worse at the hospital, I promise." It was true. Nothing you could ever do would surpass that one guy whose surgery he watched who he swore had cysts within cysts. It was gruesome. "But if you throw up on me, or get pus on me, I'm moving out," he added with a chuckle.

"Alright, ready?" He asked. You nodded, moving your bandaged hand far away from the shower head, so he turned the water on. Of course, it was immediately freezing, and you gasped. 

"Sorry, sorry!" He yelled out as he cranked the handle to the warm side. He gritted his teeth and begged the gods to turn it warm soon because he was getting the brunt of the water. 

It took a minute, but it finally got warmer. The pipes in your building gave decent water pressure, but any toilet flushing or sink turning on would fluctuate the temperature wildly. The housing was cheap enough that none of you complained, though. Armitage angled the shower head fully toward you, and your hair started getting thoroughly wet. For a moment, he wondered why people enjoyed shower sex. The spray off your body was hitting him in weird directions, some of it going straight into his eyes, and he was miserably cold and wet. There wasn't enough warm water to hit the both of you, and he was just there to help, not to shower, so he didn't get any of it. His thought just distracted him from the inevitable: it was time to begin.

"Ready?" He asked you, but he was really asking himself. Although you told him you were, the answer inside his head was a resounding no. When was the last time he had touched someone's hair? Or, hell, even touched someone? For a moment, his heart ached as he realized he couldn't remember the last time he was hugged. Was it his mother? The details of her face were slipping away from him; he could hardly remember the exact contours of her nose, or whether she had dimples, or if she had a cleft chin. What were her hands like, again? He could barely picture her, the image going fuzzy the more he tried to grab onto it. His chest felt like someone had taken a hammer to his ribs, leaving a gaping, raw hole.

He was so distracted, he barely even noticed when he put his hands on your head. He gently worked his thumbs over your scalp, working in the water. He grabbed some cheap 2 in 1 shampoo/conditioner--the one you had texted him you had left in the bathroom for this very purpose, to make it quicker than a full hair care routine, and he lathered it in his hands. It smelled like crisp green apple, so fresh and bright and energetic that he decided he had to stop being angsty, and just focus on the task at hand.

When he applied just a bit more pressure, going down to the nape of your neck with his sudsy hands, you let out a borderline sinful groan. The truth was, you hadn't felt anyone taking care of you like this in a long time. And his hands were so big and strong, you almost wanted to ask if he'd do this again. But that would be weird. So, you let yourself close your eyes and enjoy the feeling. You could feel warmth radiating off his body, and his nearness from the water that was cascading off of him and onto you. Although you found him hot--not that you would ever verbalize just how badly you wanted to run your hands over his lean chest--just being near someone was comforting. Just a touch that didn't want to take you for a drink or fuck you, a touch that had no ulterior motives. Simple, honest, trustworthy. You had been falling asleep clutching a stuffed dog the past couple of nights, imagining it was someone who would pet your hair as you fell asleep and tell you it'd all be alright. You couldn't stand it when every single time a hookup or a guy you were dating was cuddling with you, then immediately tried to grab your ass or shoved his boner against you. Simple, honest touch. And you were getting it from your roommate of all people.

He angled the water back to your head, rinsing out the suds in silence, as both of you enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. It wouldn't happen again, after all. After a few seconds, the water ran clear, and Armitage spent another couple of seconds chasing bubbles that weren't there. If he stopped, it would be over, and he'd have to go back to his room, alone. There, he'd remember the lonely ache that he pushed away with books and classes and As on his transcript that he hoped his father would acknowledge. Here, he was single-mindedly focused on you, and nothing else mattered. Even he recognized that he was taking weirdly long, so he counted down in his mind--5, 4, 3, 2, 1--and shut off the water.

"Thank you so much Armitage. You're literally a lifesaver," you commented, turning around to face him, "And look! My hand's still dry!" You wiggled your fingers at him with a bright smile to prove your point. His chest constricted, like it was somehow aware that his yearly ration of human touch was over. He masked that feeling with a chuckle and some platitude in response to you. He excused himself and dried off with a towel, which he unceremoniously tossed onto the bed when he was back in his room.

He peeled off his bathing suit and put on his standard outfit for working at home (a polo and dark jeans), trying to forget the feeling of your warm body near his. Armitage was on auto-pilot, and he was good at it. He tossed the swim trunks and dirty clothes in the washer, pulled out his textbook (Modern Physical Organic Chemistry) when he got back to his desk, and buried himself in it like he didn't feel empty. Even when he made himself a gourmet dinner of instant mac and cheese and ate it over an MCAT flashcard session (it was never too early to start, his father said), he barely felt the aching loneliness in his chest. Only Millicent curling around his feet pushed that feeling away, but she had left, probably to scurry into your room as you went to bed, leaving him alone for hours. That's how he liked it, anyway, he thought.

Around midnight, he closed his lab report--finished, of course--and changed into his flannel pajamas. Somewhere in between neatly folding his polo and putting it in the dirty hamper, he heard it.

There was a knock at his bedroom door.

[scitties-enjoyer]

Missing!?! - JSR×MCYT

@bluiex I have been playing JSR again so! More rollerblades and spray paint!

---

Grian was starting to get worried now. He'd done several laps of boatem's territory, even getting to the top of the highest buildings Mumbo could never hope to scale the way Grian did.

Who knows, maybe Mumbo had figured out the trick.

Well, he hadn't. And Grian had circled through the entire region several times, even going through the Wither Roses' territory. His own voice was blaring through his headphones, but Scott was his best chance for answers so he refused to switch stations for even a minute.

---

"You're Boatem's leader, aren't you?" The man's gold tooth glinted.

"Well, yes, technically."

"Technically?"

"Well..."

"You mean someone else makes the decisions?"

---

Now, Grian was over at the Octagon, a fancy mall that had popped up right by the residential district Boatem called their own. Notably, it had its' own gang, who regularly hung out on the roof of the building.

The problem was getting up there, but the day when heights actually dissuaded Grian would be a very sad day indeed.

He hopped up onto a bus shelter and then lept onto a ledge on the building itself.

Oh, this was too easy, with enough momentum Grian could get up that pipe and-

Ah success, Grian was another floor higher, and the window was open into an empty shop.

He hoped they knew something, Gem was apparently missing too, and that had done nothing to calm Grian's nerves.

---

"You're not getting anything out of me." Gem grinned.

"Aren't we?" A voice blared over the speaker.

"You're too coward to even step foot in the room. I'm not telling you anything"

"Necessary precaution, you know better than anyone how toxic your roses can be. Of course, if I leave you in there long enough, whatever antidote or natural resistance you have... it'll run out eventually."

Gem didn't let her hesitation show on her face. Whoever this was... they were right. But there was no way they'd keep her that long, right?

---

"Grian!" Came a shout from behind him, so he spun in place, now rolling slowly backwards from the momentum he'd gained.

He was cutting through the shop. In the crowds, Grian would be vulnerable, but this shop was empty, and the window open at the other side should take him to ledges he could use to get further up the building.

(and civillians kept getting caught in the crossfire when the cops brought out the big guns, so as fucked up as it was, it made sense to avoid crowds)

"Cub."

"What are you doing up here?" Cub asked.

"I'm..." Okay so rolling up to enemy territory without a plan wasn't smart, but sue him, Grian was worried! "... People are missing. I wanted to know if they had any idea what's going on."

This made Cub's expression even more somber. "People. Not just-"

"Mumbo and Gem, so far. That I know." Grian said.

Cub took Grian's hand in his own. It felt grounding. Safe. Grian hadn't felt safe all day.

"And Scar." Cub said.

---

"Hello?" Scar called out. He really was alone in this sterile white room.

He pushed the panic down.

Studies showed he had a few days before the psychological effects of the confinement would start to become apparent. The question of how long they intended to keep Scar there was one he didn't have an answer for.

"I'm sure we can all come to a nice, safe, happy deal."

A voice crackled through a speaker. "I'm sure we could, if I wanted."

Scar may have been alone, but he was being watched.

---

No.

That couldn't-

No. Scar was-

...Fuck.

Grian took a breath. "We need to get to the roof." He pulled his hand from Cub's and threw a grin that he hoped was less shaky than he felt. "Try to keep up."

[rebrandedstoryline]

Rebranded - 15.4 - Records Disclosed

Refer to previous segments. Dark content ahead.

As per Logan’s instructions, Ayala was left upstairs to rest. In addition, he asked that the animatronics help him clean up the mess that she had gotten herself into. The animatronics agreed, but at a price.

Logan would need to tell them exactly what was going on.

They needed to know what had caused this abrupt decline in Ayala’s mental health and they needed to know why.

This was not a request, but a demand. If they were to be her personal care bots, then they would need to know these things in order to properly provide that care.

Still, there was a reluctance to discuss the issue at hand.

Whatever the issue was, it clearly extended its effects to the man.

“Look. It’s not my place to disclose the details.” Logan uttered, attempting to avoid the subject. He and the animatronics set out to remove all of the photographs that had been hung up on the walls.

“Yet it’s your place to hold onto medication vital to her care.” Moon responded, his voice sour and stern. He was in no mood to have the subject avoided and brushed off. Not after having spent the past half a week actively attempting to help Ayala. He did not like how the event had played out. He was concerned and he was angry. Angry about not being able to help and angry about being denied the ability to help. While Sun might have chosen less aggressive means of pulling information out of the man, Moon would not be so docile. The information was considered vital at this point. “We have no idea what has gone wrong, or why. She was doing fine, mentally and physically, until a few days ago. Had we not been able to reach you, we would have been forced to contact medical professionals. I would prefer to not have to resort to those extremes. I’m sure you would also prefer to avoid dealing with this scenario again. Whatever information you have, disclose it.” He explained, making it clear why it was that he and his twin would be in need of this information.

What followed was a rather tense silence.

Logan seemed nervous. Either afraid of Moon, or afraid of discussing these weirdly taboo matters. If it was the former, then it could not be helped. At this point, the nighttime attendant had completely given in to his emergency protocols. He was worried about Ayala, and that scared him, because he had been actively going out of his way to keep from getting emotionally invested in her.

Thankfully, Logan eventually relented.

“Alright, fine. But you discuss none of this with her unless she brings it up. Understood?” Logan stated. He allowed them only a brief moment to respond. They nodded, confirming that they accepted his terms.

A tired sigh escaped him as he stopped to stare at one of the many photographs that had been hung up on the wall. One depicting a younger Ayala with an even younger child. He quickly pulls the picture off of the wall, seemingly bothered by it.

“Listen, it’s a very complicated story. So I’m just going to try and make this short and sweet.” Logan stated, taking the photograph to put it away. He tucked it safely within the confines of the Sad box. “A little over a decade ago, Ayala lost her sister. It was a very traumatic event for her. Insanely traumatic. She had a mental breakdown that resulted in a lot of psychological problems.” He explains, turning back to stare at the now empty space on the wall. Two small screws stick out of the drywall. He began to try and twist them out. “Anything that reminds her of it acts as a sort of trigger. The more triggers she encounters, the worse it gets… When she’s not around them, she’s grand. She’s normal... So long as no one tries talking about it. But that fucking box-” He cut himself off abruptly as he turned away from the wall. He had briefly started to lose control of his voice.

Signs of an impending outburst were detected. Heightened levels of anger and agitation. He was leaving out the specifics as he spoke, but clearly he was still recalling said specifics. He wiped around his mouth, seemingly trying to compose himself.

“Everything. All of her triggers were in that box. And I knew - I just fuckin knew that I should have double checked with her! To make sure that she didn’t rush this! That she didn’t try to pull everything out and force herself to face everything all at once!...” Logan practically hisses these words as he speaks, ushering the animatronics along to start getting the other pictures off of the wall. “But I second guessed myself… I convinced myself to back out of it, because she’s been doing so well. She’d made so much progress! And now because I didn’t follow my gut, we’ve probably just lost everything.” He rambled a bit, both explaining what had gone wrong and establishing why he was so upset.

He was angry. But he wasn’t angry at her, or at Sun, or at Moon.

He was angry with himself, because he feared that this exact situation might take place, but he ignored the risks.

Still, his explanation left too much room for interpretations. Logan was leaving out the specifics. But they needed to be given those specifics. No matter how horrible they might be.

How else would they be able to properly care for Ayala?

“When you say she lost her sister. What do you mean?..” Sun inquired, his voice quiet and tentative.

He was having ideas. None of them were good. None of them were pleasant. He was actually afraid of having those ideas confirmed.

Logan’s expression gave everything away on the spot. To the point that he almost didn’t need to verbally verify anything.

“She was murdered.” Logan uttered, the word leaving him as more of a bitter growl than as actual speech. A tired sigh then passed his lips as he abruptly sat down on the ground, the exhaustion of the situation fully settling in. “I used to be a police officer... I was assigned to the case. It was supposed to be a run of the mill event. Little girl gets abducted from school. We track the perp down and get the kid back home. I’d done it all before. Multiple times…” He explained, apparently intent on giving the animatronics all of the horrific details that needed to be given. “Ayala came in for questioning. She was hysterical. I promised her that I’d get her sister home safe… That kid was the only family she had left. But I overestimated my abilities, and I underestimated how vile people could be.” He added, fidgeting in place as he spoke. He was very obviously struggling to disclose these details. Struggling to expose these wounds; to reveal that he had failed in the worst possible way. “Everything went wrong. We had practically nothing to work with. The guy never left any ransom note, he never tried to reach out to arrange an exchange. He just took the kid and disappeared.” He mutters, reaching to anxiously scratch his forehead. “We had to dig real deep to find our lead. We had to rake Ayala and everyone she associated with over the coals. It was a whole fucking fiasco. It took four days to narrow down the suspects. Another four to finally piece together where they’d gone... By then, it was already too late.” He states, before standing back up. He began to pace about.

The animatronics could do nothing but remain silent and listen as he gave them all of these horrible, horrible details.

“It was like walking into a fucking slaughter house.” Logan stated, his voice laced with malice. “That girl left the building in pieces. We couldn’t even find all of her…” He abruptly punched the wall, startling the animatronics.

Moon immediately became tense, seemingly preparing to have to deal with a hostile event. But Logan made no further move to be violent. He simply lent against the wall.

“That bastard... That sick, fucking, freak, waited until we’d turned up. He called Ayala and told her she could come get her sister. You can only imagine what it does to someone's mind when they turn up at an active crime scene, thinking they’re about to be reunited with their loved ones, only to find them all over the building…” The man uttered, pushing himself back off of the wall as he turned back to face the animatronics. He cast them a dead, bitter look, seemingly plagued by his own memories as he rambled. “She broke. She broke and there was nothing I could do to fix it. God knows I’ve tried. God knows I tried to be there. I tried to protect her. But it only got worse from there.” He explained, locking eyes with Moon as he spoke.

The animatronic found himself feeling a peculiar connection at that moment. A connection that he couldn’t quite place.

“I promised her that everything would go off without a hitch, when it came time for her to testify. But the goddamned prosecutor tore her apart when she went up on the stand! They tried to make it out to be her fault. Tried to make it out like she’d somehow arranged for her sister to be butchered! Every disgusting angle they could take, they took it...” Logan stated, before abruptly going silent.

He appeared as though he were in deep thought. Tears had begun welling in his eyes as he spoke, the memories just as painful for him as they must have been for Ayala. He clearly felt guilty. Guilty for not being able to save Ayala’s sister. Guilty for not being able to protect Ayala. Guilty for having failed her again.

“That’s... Horrible...” Moon uttered, a serious and bitter tone having overtaken his voice. He was admittedly a bit stunned by all of this information. So was Sun.

A similar sort of guilt crept into him as he processed all of these details. An uncomfortable guilt, at that. He had been genuinely unkind to Ayala throughout his time here, because he didn’t trust her. Because in his mind, she never could have understood what he and Sun had been put through.

He had effectively been slapped in the face with proof that established otherwise.

Different as their traumas were, the agony was quite the same. The pain of loss. The burden of the guilt; of the blame. Made to believe that the fault was on them, when the reality was that they had simply been pawns left to suffer at the hands of monsters.

Not just Ayala, either. In that moment, Moon had developed a sense of kinship with Logan. Their pain was not dissimilar. A guilt associated with failure to protect someone who had depended on them.

Moon with his inability to keep Sun safe, and lumping them with the burden of his manipulation. Logan, with his inability to save a life he had promised to save, and his inability to protect the person that he had already failed.

[radiant-reid]

Never again

Summary: Spencer takes his vest off to talk an unsub down and Y/n gets mad.

Warnings: A couple of swear words, mention of mental illness and drug addiction, mentions of BAU case

Genre: Angst with fluff ending

Working at the BAU often meant being in danger. Usually, that danger occurred with unsubs pointing guns.

Spencer had his fair share of trauma. Mostly from Tobias Hankel. That case was the worst Spencer had ever worked. It left him with addiction and copious amounts of trauma.

"What are we going to do, Hotch?" Morgan asked once the team arrived outside the unsub's address. It was an abandoned warehouse in the middle of his hunting ground.

The team had only found it by looking with the help of Penelope Garcia, as usual. She wished them good luck as they hung up and sped off to apprehend the suspect.

The biggest problem was he had a hostage. His M.O was sick, taking women, torturing them, and then eating their hearts. He profiled as very ritualistic and delusional. His fragile mental state was obvious from the footage. He could see and hear things that weren't there. The narrative in his head was driving him to kill. They knew his stressor was the death of his partner.

The team were dressed in their FBI bulletproof vests, ready to storm the building with the other police officers. Because the town they were working in was so small, there weren't any SWAT officers.

"We can't all go in." Hotch realised. "We've got to do a soft entry." The team understood someone was going to have to talk him out of it. Hotch turned to explain it to the local police sheriff. "The profile shows that if we all go in, he'll go down shooting. He's mission-oriented but his mission is a delusion."

The sheriff nodded, understanding the psychology. "Is there any chance we lure him out?" He asked, speaking with a thick southern accent.

Unfortunately, Hotch shook his head. "He believes there's a task he must complete. No police presence is going to convince him to stop. We have to make him see it's not real." He told the sheriff, who nodded once again. It wasn't the answer he wanted. It wasn't going to be a safe operation, but a girl's life depended on it. "I'll go," Hotch said, taking out his gun and laying it on the police car.

"No, wait," Spencer exclaimed, quickly scrambling to be near Hotch. "I'll do it. I can convince him it's not real, I'm sure of it."

Y/n's heart lurched forwards. She felt like she was going to be sick.

Spencer had asked her out after they had been friends for a few months. Now they were almost at their 2nd anniversary.

It wasn't easy dating someone outside of the Bureau, but that didn't mean it was any easier dating someone inside.

Nothing like this had ever happened. Spencer had talked down unsubs before, even shot a few in front of Y/n. But he had never done anything this stupid.

Maybe, more than anything, she was terrified for him. But it all came out as anger as he took off his bulletproof vest. She couldn't believe he was going to put his life at risk. Why couldn't he leave the vest on?

Hotch didn't stop him as he walked in. Spencer's locked eyes with his girlfriend one last time before he disappeared. She was furious and terrified. Not sure if she wanted to cry or scream at him, maybe both.

"Y/n, he'll be okay," Prentiss said from next to her, witnessing her friends emotions. She lowered her gun and turned to the younger agent.

"He's so fucking stupid." Y/n finally said, still not able to breathe. This whole thing felt like a bad dream. She didn't understand why she didn't stop him. More than anything, she didn't understand why he'd done that.

Did he not want any more Sunday morning reading sessions? Or museum dates? Maybe, he just didn't see a future with Y/n anymore. She didn't know what to think, but none of it was good. Her blood was boiling, and her eyes watering at the thought of their future plans not prevailing.

There was one memory stuck in her mind, it was the memory of last Friday night. They had just gotten back from a case. Instead of going out to celebrate, they went home. The fire was lit, and they lay in each other's arms on the couch. She had never been more relaxed.

That's when Spencer asked if she had thought about their future. It just made her giggle. Obviously, she hadn't been with him for years to not see a future with him.

Despite how tired they were, they stayed up until 1 a.m. Just talking about what they wanted in the future; how many kids they were going to have, where they were going to live.

That was what Y/n was thinking about as she let a singular tear fall down her cheek. Emily wiped her thumb over her friend's cheek.

"No, no, no, don't do that. Don't think bad things." Emily comforted her quietly so the rest of the group wouldn't hear.

They could see the distressed look on her face, how panicked she looked. But they didn't see how angry she was at Spencer, sacrificing their future.

"I'm fine, Em. Pissed but fine." Y/n told her, trying to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. She had never been this mad at Spencer.

Like any couple, they did fight. But it was over little thing. When Y/n couldn't decide what she wanted for dinner but rejected every option Spencer offered, that drove him insane.

Y/n didn't think she had ever been furious like this.

Her heartbeat rapidly for 5 minutes, anticipating what was happening. Her anger was still mixed with fear. Until he came out. The unsub in handcuff. Then, all she saw was red. Once she knew he was okay, all she could do was be mad at him.

There was a fuss of people as they entered the building, finding the girl unharmed. Whatever Spencer said must have worked. Still, she couldn't admit she was proud of him when she was seething.

The rest of the team seemed pleased with Spencer, Morgan giving him a pat on the back and even a 'good job' from Hotch. He hadn't noticed his own girlfriend's anger.

"Alright, go get your stuff. Wheels up in 30." Hotch said once the BAU gathered at the SUVs.

Everyone got in, expecting to ride where they had on the way here; Prentiss, Morgan, JJ in one car and Y/n, Spencer, Rossi and Hotch in the other. However, Y/n outsmarted him. Waiting until Spencer got in before getting in the other car.

"Y/n..." Emily trailed off as she looked at the girl joining her in the back seat. The look of disapproval on her face annoyed Y/n.

"You seriously can't be taking his side!" Y/n exclaimed, not caring about JJ and Morgan witnessing her anger.

"I'm not taking sides," Emily stated. She hated to be split between her friends. "He did something stupid, yes, but you can't be mad at him." She rationalised.

Except, Y/n wasn't thinking rationally. "Well, I am." She simply said as she turned away from Emily to face the window. Her bottom lip was between her teeth, and she bit it hard enough to make it bleed.

The car ride was an uncomfortable silent one. Thankfully the motel was only 5 minutes away.

Once they got there, Y/n didn't wait for Spencer to go up to their room. She usually did.

Spencer, still oblivious, didn't think anything of it. He rode the lift with Hotch and Rossi, talking about Jack's soccer tournament on the weekend. Spencer was spouting off facts about how to ensure the boy didn't get injured when he reached their hotel room door.

Unusually, it was open. He always warned Y/n against that even if he was going down to the lobby for 10 minutes. He'd seen how it could play out.

"You've really got to lock the door, Y/n," Spencer told her as he walked in. His casual tone even pissed her off.

She looked frantic as she packed her belongings. He could tell she was mad, but he didn't understand what about.

"Oh, sorry," Y/n replied in a sarcastic tone. "I've also stopped caring about my safety." Sarcastic and snarky. Her voice was dripping with venom, and it caught Spencer off guard. She never spoke to him like that.

"Y/n, come on." He pleaded, walking over to where she was zipping up her bag.

Gently, he reached out to place his hands on her waist. That was the closest he had been to her since he walked in. Her eyes were blood shocked and her jaw was clenched. It shocked him when she tore them off.

In one motion, she put her bag over her shoulder and walked out the door without another word. Spencer was left shellshocked. She had never acted like this around him. Usually, it was him giving the silent treatment.

He didn't know how horrible it was.

As quick as he could, he packed his bag, racing down to the lobby in the hopes of catching her, and finding out what was up.

"She left," Emily said, looking up from her phone at the tall genius. "With JJ and Morgan."

Spencer groaned, tugging at his curls. "Damn it." Emily gave him a look, and he knew it meant he was in trouble. "What did I even do?"

"For a genius, you can be dumb," Emily replied, very unhelpfully. "She's mad you rushed in there without thinking about what would happen if you died." She finally explained.

Spencer felt a tightening in his chest, a bad one. "I had to stop him before he killed another girl."

"I know." Emily agreed. "But without a vest?"

Spencer didn't bother to argue. It was a heat of the moment decision. He thought the vest would have freaked a schizophrenic out.

It freaked his mother out.

Hotch came down, and they got in a car with Rossi to get to the jet.

Spencer didn't know how to fix it, but his brain was working overtime. Mostly, he felt like an idiot. Why had he not thought about Y/n? Obviously, the girl that loved him wouldn't be happy with him putting his life at risk.

He couldn't get her mad face out of his head. He'd fucked up, majorly.

The only plan he could work up was to talk to her on the plane. When he got on, she wasn't in their usual seats. She was sitting at the table, next to Morgan.

Spencer quickly slid into the seat across from her. It broke his heart when she didn't even look up at him. She had learnt her silent treatment from the best.

She already had her headphone in, and her nose in a book. It was obvious she was fully prepared to ignore him for 3 hours. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through.

He couldn't even bring himself to read, so he just looked out the window. The sky was pitch black, the land under them lit up with lights. When he finally snapped out of his daydream, he looked around at the team. JJ was asleep, so was Emily. Morgan, unusually, was as well. Rossi and Hotch were at the back of the jet, talking quietly.

"Y/n, please." She looked up, maybe it was because his tone was so broken. Still, she didn't say anything. "I'm sorry," Spencer told her.

All she did was shake her head, and look back at her book. Ouch. It physically made him wince. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to cry.

He rested his fingers on his head, hoping it would make him think better.

Eventually, the jet landed in Quantico. Around midnight.

The team were too tired for any celebrations. Plus, they wanted to be well-rested to do their paperwork tomorrow.

Y/n didn't speak to Spencer as she loaded her stuff in their car. She did say her goodbyes to the rest of the team, which made him feel even worse.

Then, she got in the passenger seat. Spencer usually didn't drive, but Y/n didn't think she was going to be able to.

So Spencer drove, sneaking glances at her as she tightly gripped her book.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" He offered, thinking about their favourite pizza place.

Usually, he didn't care for pizza, but it was different late at night. It was the smallest pizza shop, open 24/7. The only other people that were there whenever Y/n and Spencer went were drunk. The couple would laugh at their drunken antics, and stuff themselves full of pizza because they both rarely ate enough on cases.

Y/n shook her head. At least it was some form of communication.

Spencer drove straight to their apartment, parking before getting their stuff. Y/n snatched her bag out of his hands. He wanted to help his tired girl out, but she was adamant about doing it herself.

So, she lugged her bag up the flights of stairs before reaching their apartment door.

Spencer unlocked the door, and she marched in. She dumped her stuff outside the laundry and walked into the lounge.

He wasn't sure if he should go after her or not, but he did.

As he walked in, she scrambled to wipe her cheeks. She looked so delicate, crying as she sat on the edge of the couch. The moonlight was streaming in the open curtains. An odd mix of exquisite yet fragile.

Nothing broke Spencer like seeing her cry. He couldn't help the tears coming down his own cheeks.

He breathed deeply before walking over. Suddenly, he felt awkward as he fumbled for where to sit. He decided on the ottoman, so they were at eye level, only inches apart.

"Y/n." He softly spoke, his voice cracking as he choaked out sobs. He kept his hands at his side, despite how hard it was.

Y/n was full-on crying now, all her rage coming out tears. Deep down, she knew she was only mad because of how scared he'd made her. The broken look on her face hurt him so deeply. He'd never thought it was possible to love someone like this until Y/n.

She still didn't speak to him, she just cried as she wrapped her arms around herself. All Spencer wanted to do was hug her.

"Baby, look at me." He begged. Lightly, he placed a hand under her jaw. He lifted it, forcing her to look up at him. She didn't move it, instead, she met his brown eyes. They were filled with tears, like hers.

Spencer didn't know what to say next. He still felt the sharp pain in his chest as she looked at him. He just wanted to make it better, he wanted to stop her pain.

"I'm furious with you," Y/n admitted, tears still streaming down her cheek. They ended up on Spencer's fingers.

Spencer nodded, moving his hands, so they were cradling her face. "I know. It was stupid."

"So fucking stupid, Spence." It felt good to hear the nickname fall off her lips. "You could have gotten yourself killed. Do you know what that would do to me?" She didn't wait to give him an answer. "It would break me. I would never be the same again." She told him. It was factual.

Hearing her say made more tears fall down his cheeks. His stomach twisted tightly, at the thought of the love of his life heartbroken and it all being his fault.

"I'm sorry. It was a bad call." Spencer knew that now. Even though he had gotten the job done, he'd hurt Y/n. "Tell me how I can make it better." He begged.

Y/n shrugged. "Can you just hug me?" She asked, finally breaking.

Spencer couldn't oblige quick enough, pulling her into his arms. He ran his fingers through her hair, trying to calm her. Finally, his breathing steadied. The world was right.

"I was so terrified when you went in there," Y/n admitted. The guilt Spencer felt was immense, like nothing else. "Then, when you came out, I just felt so angry with you."

At her confession, he moved his hand to trace shapes on her back.

"I'm so sorry." Spencer sobbed out again, holding her as tightly as possible. "I'll never do it again."

Y/n continued telling him the truth. "I thought you didn't care about our future, that it didn't matter to you. It was like you were just throwing it away."

Spencer was thankful she was opening up to him, but the guilt didn't stop. He couldn't believe he'd made her question his love. His shirt was getting damp from the tears she'd spilt, and it made him feel terrible.

"Never." He shook his head. "I care about our future more than anything." He reassured her. "Never again." He promised.

Y/n nodded, pulling back to weakly smile at him. There was nothing more beautiful in the world. "Never again." She said, holding out her pinky finger to intertwine with his. He happily locked them together before placing a kiss on hers. He pulled back, to look into her eyes.

"I love you." He told her, their faces now only inches apart. He adored moments like this when he got to admire her face up close.

"I love you too." She replied, finally closing the gap between them.

With their lips together, Spencer felt at home. She managed to heal all his pain, he just hoped he'd done the same.

"Carry me to bed?" Y/n asked before nuzzling her face into his neck. Her legs were locked around his waist.

"Of course, my love." Spencer quickly followed her request, standing up with her in his arms. His slim arms were far from weak.

When he got to the bedroom, he put her down so they could both get undressed. She climbed into bed first, and Spencer followed. He wrapped his arms around her waist, so he was spooning her. He held her tighter than usual.

With his curls nuzzling her neck they could finally relax. He was just taking in her scent. Everything was okay.

"Spence, can I ask you something?" Y/n quietly asked, her hands had travelled down to where his wrapped around her waist. She played with his fingers, stroking over his prominent veins. It reassured him that whatever she was going to ask would be okay.

Spencer nodded, his curls tickling her neck. "What is it, baby?"

"Why'd you do it?" His heart immediately sped up, as it clenched in his chest.

Spencer desperately didn't want to answer, but he did. "Uh, the unsub... I just wanted to help. Like I couldn't with my m-mum." His voice was shaky.

Y/n flipped over in his arms so she was facing him. "Spence." She cooed, taking his face into her hands. "I'm sorry."

Spencer shook his head. He couldn't stop the tear stream down his cheek, Y/n wiped them up. "No, I know it was a dumb thing to do."

"Spencer, your mum loves you. You've helped her since you were a kid." Y/n reassured him. She just wanted him to believe he was half as amazing as she thought he was.

"But I couldn't save her." He continued to cry. He felt so helpless and stupid. Y/n was the one who deserved to cry, yet here he was. "Did you know she doesn't even recognise me?"

Y/n's heart fractured. No matter what Spencer did to her, it would never hurt as much as watching him in pain. She'd rather endure years of torture than have Spencer get hurt.

He was so pure, he never deserved to feel hurt. She didn't know what to say so she just pulled him in for a hug, running her fingers through his curls to the base of his neck.

Spencer pulled back to look into her eyes again. "I really appreciate you," He told her, wiping the tears out of his eyes with his index finger. It meant more to Y/n than an 'I love you.'

"Baby." She cooed again, pulling him back in for another hug. When she pulled away, she smiled at him. "You did a good job today, the unsub needed you." She reassured him.

Spencer smiled. Bloodshocked eyes and all, it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. "Thank you. I won't go in without a vest ever again, though." He promised.

"Good. No matter how mad I was, I'm still proud of you." Those words meant more to Spencer than anything. He never heard it enough as a kid, so every time someone said it, it meant to world to him.

Y/n closed the gap between them, her lips on his once again. It was both of their favourite feelings in the world, like every part of the universe had aligned.

Tag list

@archer561 @measure-in-pain @bingereid

[miekasa]

break up with your boyfriend, i’m bored

+ pairings: um… armin x reader…. but, spotlight on jean—just... read it to understand, please

+ genres and warnings: college au what’s new, fluff… you’re just going to have to work with me and trust me on this one alright

+ notes: free colt he ain’t do nothing wrong i just needed someone outside of their immediate friend group to blame i am so sorry justice for my boy colt and falco too

+ more notes: longer levi fic still in progress, so have jean thee comedian in the meantime

“I think I have a crush on someone.”

Jean crosses his arms and makes it a point to huff even louder than before so that you can accurately assess his annoyance at moment; going so far as to slump back into your not so comfortable couch to really sell it.

“And that is why you manhandled me all the way to your apartment on a Tuesday afternoon?” he asks, voice flat and eyes hooded.

You groan and roll your eyes. Jean’s eyebrows are pinched together with more judgement than confusion at your current state of distress when you sit next to him on the sofa, a knee bent in his direction.

“Jeanie, I don’t think you’re understanding the severity of my issue.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” he drawls, “But, please, do enlighten me. It’s not like I have an essay to write or anything.”

“I have a crush,” you reiterate, hands mapping out every syllable in your sentence, “On someone who is not my boyfriend.”

“I see,” he nods, but his voice remains flat, “And, pray tell, what exactly is my role in all of this?”

“You’re supposed to use your philosophical psychoanalytical bullshit to tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it.”

“Philosophy and psychology are two different disciplines.”

“They sound the same to me.”

“That’s because you’re a single-celled chem major.”

“I think it takes more than a single cell to study chem.”

“Oh, is that what they tell you guys, now?”

“You’re not fucking helping.”

“Yes, I am,” he tuts, “It’s called talk therapy.”

“It sounds like you’re just taking shots at me.”

“Best friend talk therapy allows for a few digs here and there.”

“Jean,” you pinch his arm. He flinches, and yelps loudly, immediately raising the affected arm to counter with a flick to the center of your forehead. You glare, the palm of your left hand covering the sting on your skin, but concede, “Well played.”

“Thank you,” he nods, “I learned from the best.”

“Okay, now that you’ve gotten your ego boost for the day, can we worry about my problem, please.”

He shrugs, crossing resting his left ankle atop his right knee, “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“What exactly is the problem, again?”

You sigh, and lean your head on Jean’s shoulder, “I have a boyfriend—”

“We’ve been over that.”

“—and the person I have a crush on is not my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “Are you going to do anything about this crush?”

“Well, I… no,” you ponder, “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” he repeats, “So, then why are you so worked up about it?”

“Because!... Because… I don’t know, it’s… wrong? I’m in a relationship with someone else—isn’t this, like, emotional cheating?”

“Maybe,” he says, “I don’t know a whole lot about relationship psychology.”

“Come on, Jean.”

He sighs, “I’m serious, I don’t know, (_____).”

You whine, sounds muffled by the fabric of Jean’s sweater where your cheek lay pressed against his shoulder. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”

“You’re not, stop it,” Jean answers firmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “You’re not horrible for having emotions that are difficult to work through.”

“Okay, then, I’m just a horrible girlfriend.”

“Maybe.”

“Jean.”

“Sorry,” he winces, patting your head for extra encouragement. It’s meant to be comforting, but it makes you feel like a patronized six-year-old, at best. It’s quiet for a while, with you mulling over Jean’s words, and him trying to pull you into the worst side hug in all of existence.

“Do you think,” you break the silence, “Maybe I should I break up with him?”

“Yes,” his answer comes too quickly, and much too enthusiastically.

You lift your head from his shoulder, unamused, but Jean doesn’t even try to hide the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”

“No,” he pauses when he catches glimpse of the disbelief on your face, “Okay, yes, I don’t like him. At all.”

“Jean—”

“But maybe this is your subconscious telling you that you don’t like him either, and that you should, instead, go after your crush.”

“Oh, so now you want to use your psychobullshit on me?”

“If it means I don’t have to pretend to like Colt anymore, then yes,” he replies, a stupid, shit-eating grin on his lips.

You scoff, arms crossed against your chest, “You don’t even pretend to like him now.”

Jean shrugs, “I pretend to like him to his face.”

“No, you don’t,” you insist, “You’re probably the worst at it, in fact.”

“I’m not worse than Connie.”

“You called him an asshole. To his face.”

“Connie poured tequila on him.”

“Connie was drunk. You were completely sober.”

“Connie would have done it sober and you know it.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but the words fall silent in your throat. Connie probably would have done it sober. “Okay, fine, whatever, you don’t like him,” you wave away the subject, “Do you really think this crush is my subconscious telling me to break up with him, though? I mean—it’s just, crushes are kind of fleeting right?”

“Sure, but—”

“What if I break up with him, and then I get over my crush, and realize I made a mistake.”

“Then you learn and grow, and find a new crush.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he insists, “You’re beating yourself up pretty bad over this mystery guy—”

“—It could be a girl.”

“Is it a girl? Oh, is it Mikasa? Are you still hung up over her—you know I’m sure she’d make out with you asked. I think you both could relieve a lot of tension that way, actually.”

“You’re the worst person to walk this planet, you know that?” you sneer, annoyed by the smug grin on Jean’s face. So what if you had a tiny crush on Mikasa? Most people did, Jean included.

“Look,” Jean continues, “You and I both know you’re not a cheater, but you and I also know you’re just like Eren when it comes to things like this.”

“Just like Eren?”

“Falls too fast, too hard,” he clarifies, “I get the feeling you’ve had these feelings for a while, and that they’re not fleeting.”

You pout, and Jean knows that he’s right. “Okay, so say I do break up with Colt—”

“Which you should do, regardless.”

“—If we break up, then what? I still won’t know what to do with my left over grief. It’s not like I can just... go ask this guy out right away.”

“Yes, you can,” Jean presses, “In fact, you should.”

“No, I can’t,” you insist.

“Why not?”

“Well for one, I’ll look like a heartless whore.”

“You’re not a heartless whore for asking a guy out.”

“I am if I do it right after breaking up with my boyfriend.”

“Your internalized misogyny is showing,” he sing-songs, “Come on, you’re not a whore for doing what you want with a guy, you know that.”

“Okay, fine, not a whore, whatever,” you roll your eyes, “But I still couldn’t ask him out.”

“It’s the twenty first century, just because you’re a girl doesn’t mean you can’t ask him—”

“Not because of that, dumb goose,” you glare, “I meant because—it’s, well, it’d be really sudden and kind of… awkward?”

“It’s not like he’d know you just broke up with someone, unless that’s one of your conversation starters.”

You sigh, a hand on your forehead. “Yes, he would, Jean.”

“How could he possibly—oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mock, a heavy sigh leaving your chest as you resume your previous sulking position, head leaning against his shoulder with your right cheek squished against his sweater.

“(_____), I’m honored, but you’re not really my type. I’d be willing to help you get over him though.”

“It’s not you, you fucking long-necked pigeon, it’s Arm—,” you cut yourself short, hands clamped over your own mouth.

“Oh my god!” Jean all but screams, propelling his body away from you with just enough distance to extend his arm, finger pointing directly at your chest, “You like Armin!”

“Shut up!”

“You have a crush on Armin!”

“Shut up, Jean!”

“You have a big, fat crush on Armin!”

“Shut up! I said shut up, you pasty fucking giraffe looking ass bitch!”

“Oh my—okay, you have to break up with Colt, immediately,” Jean rushes, “I can’t believe this—if you think Armin wouldn’t go out with you, then you really do have the intelligence of a single celled organism.”

“What in the ever loving fuck are you talking about.”

“We’re talking about the same Armin, right? Armin Arlert, about this tall,” Jean raises his hand significantly lower than Armin’s actual height, “Studies astrophysics, follows you around like a lap dog—”

“He does not,” you scoff.

Jean guffaws, “Didn’t he take you on a tour of, like… the NASA museum for your birthday? With the super high-tech planetarium that people die to get into?”  

“Actually, it was their headquarters, but it’s only because he gets special privileges for being an intern.”

“Didn’t he name a star after you?”

“Anyone can name a star after anyone,” you roll your eyes, “It’s really not that hard.”

“People do not fucking go to NASA and ask for stars for just anyone!” Jean screeches, hands flailing wildly.

“Armin does!”

“Yeah, for you!” Jean emphasizes, “Come on, do you think if anybody else called him right now and asked him to get a star in their name, or even just fucking take them to headquarters of the most renowned space organization in the country, that he would actually do it?”

“I mean, maybe, if like… Eren asked.”

Jean opens his mouth to refute, but freezes half way with a head-tilt and pursed lips. “Okay, yeah, maybe—whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to tell him.”

“I don’t need to tell him shit.”

“You’re seriously choosing Colt over Armin? Who willingly stays with some greasy prick with the world’s most annoying younger brother, over a handsome, straight-A astrophysics student with a penchant for marine biology, and, like, really clear skin.”

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know Bertholdt was studying astro.”

“I wasn’t talking about Bertholdt.”

“It sounded like you were talking about Bertholdt.”

“I mean, Bertholdt’s got great skin, but it’s no where near as clear as Armin’s. He glows.”

It’s quiet again, as you eye Jean with a raised brow that’s all too familiar. “Are we sure that you’re not the one with the crush on Armin?”

“Shut up, you’re avoiding the point.”

“What’s the point, exactly?”

“That you’re in love with Armin, who is miles better than your current boy toy, so you should ask him out immediately.”

“I have a boyfriend, not a boy toy.”

“Ah ha!” he yells, “You didn’t deny that you’re in love with him—oh my god, you’re in love with Armin!”

He’s standing now, practically bouncing off the the walls at the revelation. You take to smacking him with the nearest pillow. “I’m not in love with him! I just—just really like him, okay!”

“Very convincing.”

“Shut the hell up, you’ve been pining after you know who for seven eons at this point.”

“You bitch,” he growls, “We’re not supposed to bring him up.”

“Well, you keep bringing up Armin!”

“We never established that Armin was on the list of he’s who shall not be named.”

“Well I vote that he should be.”

“Your vote has been vetoed,” he grins, “Look, I’m completely serious when I say that Armin is just as in love with you as you deny you are with him.”

“That sentence hurt my head,” you pout, resuming your signature brooding position.

“It’s okay, your single brain cell has been through a lot in the past fifteen minutes,” he pats your head again, earning him a glare that he simply chuckles at, “All it means is that you love Armin, and I assure you that he’s equally, if not more, in love with you.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Now, up, up, up,” he tuts, pulling at your biceps until you’re standing, only to immediately start ushering you to the door, “You have a shitty boyfriend to go break up with.”

“What—Jean, come on, I didn’t mean right now!” you exclaim; but he’s stronger than he looks, and continues to propel your body out of the open door.

“No time to waste!” he insists, “Every hour you stay with Colt you lose another brain cell.”

“I thought I only had one to begin with,” you say, sarcasm evident in your tone.

It makes Jean’s grin triple, “Exactly, so go, not another hour to waste!”

“Jean, wait, I—,” you begin, only to be silenced by the silver door shutting in your face. The lock clicks soon after, and it’s only then you realized what he’s done.

“You knobby kneed bitch, this is my apartment!”

[realcube]

trying to be nice to their crush hcs

navi | masterlist | taglist

thank you to 🍦anon for this cute request!

characters: tsukishima, kyōtani, sakusa & suna

content warning: swearing & sexual references 

kei tsukishima 

♡ this is all yamaguchi’s fault （︶^︶）

♡ he found out tsukki had a crush on you bc he mentioned you a lot in conversation so yamaguchi interrogated him for answers then lo and behold, the beanpole had a lil thing for you 

♡ you sit in front of tsukishima in homeroom while yamaguchi sits beside him so when you leaned back and asked him if you could borrow a pencil and he spat back a snarky remark about you being too irresponsible to care for your own pencils, yamaguchi hastily offered you one of his own before scolding tsukishima 

♡ he explained to his clueless friend that being nasty to people isn’t a good way to get them to like you 

♡ so perhaps he should be nicer :)

♡ honestly, tsukishima would’ve just looked yamaguchi straight in the eyes and went ‘no’, if it wasn’t for the fact you shot tadashi the sweetest smile anD PLAYFULLY BLEW HIM A KISS AFTER HE JUST GAVE YOU A DAMN PENCIL LIKE WTF 

♡ after that, he decided to give up his current personality and pick up a new one 

♡ jk jk 

♡ but he had to binge a whole bunch of those youtube psychology videos that are like ‘psychological tricks to make people like you’ and ‘THESE 5 MIND TRICKS WILL MAKE YOU THE MOST POPULAR PERSON *EVER*’!!

♡ spoiler alert: he wasn’t the most popular person but perhaps that was bc he only went to the effort of using those tricks on you 

♡ god bless him; he tries hard, he really does. (not his best, just hard)

♡ but you don’t have to be extremely observant to realise that he’s began acting different around you and of course, it confused you seeing tsukishima being nice

♡ what irritated you was how dismissive he was being of your questions though, as he was clearly trying to lead you to believe that you were crazy and he’s just always been a nice guy 

♡ but as soon as he figures out that he angered you, he’ll instantly switch back to him normal self - draining his mind of the hours of phycology studying he did last night to just pretend like it never happened 

♡ and if he’s feeling flirty, he might be extra mean to you （￣︶￣）

♡ also he makes a mental note to never take yamaguchi’s romance advice ever again 🙄

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you sighed, removing your hand from your bag after desperately rummaging through it in search of a pencil once again - deja vu. once you accepted that a pencil wasn’t going to materialise out of thin air, you peered over your shoulder and tapped the corner of yamaguchi’s desk, who wore a suspicious grin which you decided against questioning. 

“yamaguchi, do you think i could borrow a pencil again? sorry, this is the last time, i swear. i’ll be sure to get some on my way home after school tod--” 

yamaguchi dropped the line him and tsukishima had rehearsed many times beforehand, while clutching his pencilcase dear to his chest, “woah, (y/n). you’re so irresponsible. sorry, i can’t lend one of my pristine pencils to someone who is too forgetful to remember to buy some; what if you forget to return it to me?” 

tsukishima cringed at how forced it sounded but he couldn’t help but admire yamaguchi's dedication to his role. this allowed tsukishima to swoop in, pencil in hand, “here.” that wasn’t in the script but he panicked! okay, now, eye contact. 

you just sat there and stared at both of them with the most dumbfounded look plastered on your face. what just happened?  why were they both acting like they were in drama class?  and why are they both so bad at acting? they’re both passing performing arts for fucks’ sake!

kentarō kyōtani 

♡ sorry but i firmly believe kyōtani is the sorta guy to be extra mean to ppl he fancies smh

♡ the rest of them just act (somewhat) like themselves around their crush but kyōtani is himself2 (himself^2)

♡ like one time yahaba found you trembling in your locker bc you had gotten mud on mad dog’s white shoes so he chased you through the hallways of the school, threatening to trek mud on your forehead 

♡ yahaba took it upon himself to investigate as to why kyōtani was so rude to you and he got his answer as soon as he mentioned your name to mad dog and the boy’s face immediately flushed red 

♡ so after practise, yahaba schools mad dog on how to get chicks (⌐■_■)

♡ in short, his advice was ‘good guys get laid’ and for kyōtani’s understanding, ‘good’ and ‘kind’ were interchangeable 

♡ mad dog wasn’t completely oblivious to how he treated you and he was aware that he was far from ‘kind’

♡ although he usually doesn’t listen to people in general, yahaba seemed to know what he was talking about so he figured there was no harm in trying to be nice 

♡ but ngl, he just spent the rest of the day wondering...what is kind?

♡ after a few messages back and forth with yahaba, he figured that the best place to start was by apologising for - y’know - chasing you around the whole school 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“oi!” kyōtani bellowed through hallway, paying no mind to the students that cast him dirty looks as his sights were locked on you. standing unsuspecting by your locker, stuffing your textbooks into your bag until you heard his deep voice echo through the hall, to which you visibly perked up and began frantically looking around.

he marched towards you, hands in pockets and when you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, you were more than ready to drop all your shit and bolt away. but he didn’t let you as before you were able to take off on your heels, he grabbed your shoulder and spun you around to face him - then he noticed your hands raised in defence by your face and your head hung low.

his heart sank and his grip on your shoulder immediately softened, “i’m not gonna punch you, idiot.” he spat, rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth, trying to appear angry in hopes you’d mistake his light blush for pure rage. 

“i just wanted to say that i felt bad for chasing you through the halls yesterday - you didn’t stand a chance so i guess it was a bit unfair.” he said, frowning as you replied with silence so the duty fell on him to fill it, “and i got the stain out, anyway so.” 

more silence. lovely.

suddenly, he puffed his cheeks out as his eyes snapped to meet yours and he roared, “ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING SAY SOMETHING OR ARE YOU TOO BRAINDE-”

“are you wearing eyeliner?” 

and that was the true story behind why you missed last period, because you and kyōtani had a 30 minute conversation about eyeliner and make-up, then he convinced you to skip the rest of class with him so he could buy you ramen as an apology gift.

so yeah, he figured that perhaps he should try being nice more often.

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he didn’t need someone to tell him to be nicer, he’s just predisposed to attempt to show kindness to someone he is fond of

♡ in his mind, showing kindness, respect and stripping himself of all his personality = the only way to be desirable 

♡ (ofc this takes place before he meets atsumu tho lol)

♡ so it’s not the realisation that’s the problem for him, it’s the execution 

♡ like how is he supposed to be nice without either sounding creepy or condescending? 

♡ *cut to sakusa practising in the bathroom mirror* ‘your hand looks- no-’ he scoffs, flicking cold water onto his face, ‘your hair looks cool- pretty- nice?’

♡ *camera pans to sakusa laying in bed, staring intently at the ceiling while imagining vivid and scarily detailed scenarios about ways he could mess up while talking to you* 

♡ *camera zooms in on sakusa’s face as he manifests a nicer version of himself*

♡ he might - depending on how insecure he is - watch one of those psychology videos or read a wikihow for help

♡ but other than that, he independently tries to alter his personality in order to gain your favour bc..true love ?

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you smiled as a basketball rolled up to your feet during gym class, followed by the sound of someone approaching you and upon raising your gaze, your eyes met sakusa’s unmistakable black ones. his face hovered only a few inches away from yours due to the fact you had both reached down to pick up the ball at the same time.

he quickly pulled himself away, tucking the basketball under his elbow as he adjusted his mask so it properly covered his face to ensure that you didn’t see the light blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. he then proceeded to blurt out what he had been rehearsing for the past few nights, “oh, thank you, (y/n). your hair looks lovely today, by the way.”

you giggled, holding your hands firmly by your side to avoid fidgeting and making it obvious that his sudden comment flustered you, “thanks, sakusa. and, if we’re handing out compliments today, i didn’t know you were good at any sport other than volleyball but you’re doing surprisingly well at basketball.” you joked, your lips slowly curling into a cocky smirk, “though, i don’t think you’d stand a chance against my team.” 

god, you’re such a tease. you make it so hard for him to be nice to you. so, of course, your comment returned his ability to utter almost every sarcastic comment that comes to mind - screw being likeable. “you think so?” he quirked a brow, tossing the ball onto your lap then pacing backwards, “go on, then.”

rintarō suna

♡ it was probably those tips on social media that told him he has to be nicer 

♡ and plus he saw terushima get all the chicks and he was just sitting there like ‘where are my bitches at? 🥺’

♡ anyway, all the guys on social media that had girls lining up outside their door always had one thing in common: misogyny  obnoxious personalities !!

♡ and his whole personality was a sacrifice suna was willing and ready to make for just a crumb of cooch  🤲

♡ though you weren’t exactly his crush yet, suna thought you were the best person to carry out this experiment with bc he heard through the grapevine that you had a crush on him so perhaps this would make you happy

♡ he didn’t prepare much beforehand though which he immediately regretted as soon as he approached you bc admittedly, his game plan of ‘be self-assured but friendly’ was a bit vague 

♡ so he basically just had to bullshit through a whole, awkward conversation with you while wearing a forced ‘bold’ smirk which, in reality, looked as though he had just seen tiddies for the first time 

♡ hardly self-assured or friendly 

♡ also, the fact you thought he was playing a prank on you must’ve drastically altered the results of his experiment 

♡ at one point he says something extremely stupid you’d just quit playing along and just blurt out ‘wtf is wrong with you today’

♡ to which he’d be like ‘ahaha, nuthin much bbg, how bout you?’

♡ THE EXPERIEMNT ISN’T OVER UNTIL HE SAYS IT’S OVER OKAy?!

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

you rubbed your temples in order to soothe the throbbing headache suna gave you simply by existing. like yes, you had a crush on him 10 minutes ago - but that was before he came up to you and started acting like terushima on dodgy medication. “oh and your skin is glowing bab--”

“jesus christ, rintarō, shut up!” you cried, gripping the edge of your skirt to prevent your self from delivering a swift punch right to his stupid face. he’s seriously gotten on all your nerves at this point; firstly, by spamming your phone in the middle of the night asking for homework answers (accompanied by cursed memes) as he actually managed to wake you up. secondly, by acting so oblivious to the fact you clearly had a crush on him and now, this!

heat rose to his cheeks in embarrassment as his creepy smile instantly fell right back into his resting bitch face, “this isn’t working, is it?” 

“what’s not working?”

suna scoffed, rolling his eyes - his façade having evidently disappeared. “this.” he sighed, looking around as if someone was going to save him before his eyes finally settled on you and he was reminded of what he wanted in the first place, his sparkle was rekindled for just a moment which caused him to blurt out, “just fuck me already, i’m not asking for much.”

[anxi-aashi]

smooth lines and chocolate rhymes

atsumu x gn!reader

words: 990

warnings: couple curse words, fluff, kind of good kind of bad pick up lines i found on the internet, atsumu is a dork, TIMESKIP SPOILERS

summary: does atsumu have a plan for this holiday party? yes. will he execute it the way he wants? i think we all know the answer to that

a/n: 10 words under the word max look at me go :) btw theres no actual rhyming in this that was literally just the first title to pop in my head so i ran with it pls bear with me. this is my submission for @lostinwildflowers xmas event!! hope it turned out ok im a bad judge of these things but this was fun to write anyways

Atsumu, for a long time, was a firm believer in the psychology behind The Great Hair Phenomenon: the tried-and-true theory that a single haircut could cause astronomical changes in a person’s psyche. The right haircut or dye job could either make or break a person’s self-esteem in a heartbeat, but if done correctly, the chance was well worth the risk. Though hidden beneath an aloof exterior and sibling rivalry, Atsumu often struggled with self-esteem issues as a kid, wanting more than anything to find a quality about him that set him apart from his brother in a good way. He found one day that a trip to the hair salon did exactly that.

Looking back on it, he could admit that his color choice was not the greatest–Osamu made sure to remind him of it whenever his ego was a little too inflated. But, adhering to The Great Hair Phenomenon, Atsumu soon re-dyed his hair to a more natural blond, and reaped the benefits of endless confidence-boosts by the amount of flattery sent his way.

At the age of 23, Atsumu was in the prime of his life–the top of his game, as the setter for the MSBY Jackals. He had it pretty good: stable income, amazing friends, coworkers and family, a career he’d always dreamed of, and great fucking hair.

But somehow, he still lacked the ability to ask you out on a fucking date.

The bleach was supposed to fix everything. He had no problem flirting with people–never had, even with his god-awful piss-hair. And believe him, he had tried flirting with you. But you and your smile and your eyes and your attentiveness and your intellect and your compassion and your ability to somehow manage to be kind and funny and still make him the butt of a joke always, without fail, stopped the flirtations right in his throat.

This was what Atsumu reflected on as he (in)discretely eyed you from across the room at the MSBY holiday party.

Light music played over mild chatter in the background, matching the warmth of the colorful lights that hung from the ceiling. Atsumu’s eyes flicked over your form for the nth time while you talked to a fellow team physician, re-reading the “ROCKIN’ AROUND THE” lettering stitched around a decorated Christmas tree on your attempt at an ugly sweater. For a moment he imagined what you would look like in a sweater of his if you could make one as simple as that look so good, but he shook the thought away. He had a mission to focus on.

Atsumu straightened up when he saw your coworker leave. You waved them off, a smile lingering on your lips, and made your way to the food table alone.

This was his chance. Atsumu whipped his phone out and skimmed the lines he had memorized in preparation for this moment one last time, cleared his throat, and smoothed down his a-little-bit-too-small sweater. He breathed in and commenced operation.

The first thing you noticed when you turned to face the owner of the finger that had tapped you on the shoulder was that their sweater was not the right size. Just the width of their chest was enough to tell you this was one of the players you looked after. The second was the cartoon.

On the very small sweater was a cartoon mug full of hot chocolate, with a cartoon fox wearing sunglasses sitting in it as if it were a hot tub. Around the design, were the words “HOT FOX-OLATE.” And as you looked up to see who was so brazenly giving you a full display of their sculpted pectorals, your suspicions were confirmed when you were met with the face of Miya Atsumu.

“Hi,” he drawled, mouth pulled into a smoldering grin.

“Hi.” You returned his grin, but still a little curious as to where the sudden suaveness had come from.

Atsumu’s smirk widened and he opened his mouth to speak, while at the same time reaching a hand out to lean against the table you both stood next to. His mouth snapped shut in alarm, however, while his hand only met air, causing him to stumble the slightest to catch his bearings.

You hid your laughter under your breath at his blunder, though attempting to smother it with a neutral expression when he shot back up, hair and eyes holding a little more distress than before. He cleared his throat and started over, this time a little bit closer to the table.

“Are you a really popular chocolate holiday drink? ‘Cause yer too hot, but I’m gonna try an’ pick ya up anyway,” he flourished with another grin and a half-lidded gaze.

Your mouth dropped open in a mixture of hilarity and disbelief, mouth twitching between a smile and agape as if you couldn’t decide which emotion to go with. You choked out an airy “what?” trying to keep your laughter at bay.

Atsumu took that as a bad sign. “Okay, wait, lemme try again–” he rushed, summoning the confidence again– “I didn’t think there was anything hotter than hot chocolate, but I guess you just love proving me wrong, don’t ya.”

“Atsumu, why are all your lines about hot chocolate?” you asked still trying to contain your laughter and preserve his dignity just a little.

He sighed, dropping his act and slumping his shoulders. “Was tryin’ to fit the theme.” He gestured to his sweater half-heartedly.

“Were you trying to flirt with me?” you chuckled.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, reaching up to scratch his ear that was turning redder by the second. “I think yer really pretty.”

“Ah, I see.” Your face began to heat up a little as well.

“Did they work?” Atsumu asked, albeit a little apprehensively.

A full smile started to bloom across your face and Atsumu swore he stopped breathing for a second as you answered in kind, “Maybe a little.”

[xiaojusaur]

Highway to Heaven

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Genre: Fluff | Smut

Warnings: Car sex, virgin reader, fingering, oral

Word Count: 2.8K

Description: Jaehyun and you are celebrating your first anniversary and he wants to make it special. Pretty inspired in ‘Highway to Heaven’ - NCT 127

Freedom and privacy are two amazing things, more when you share them with the one you love. Not that you experience them often since your parents are strict and wouldn’t let you enjoy much with your boyfriend.

But today is a special occasion: is your first anniversary and Jaehyun made plans to take you on a roadtrip. He asked your parents and convinced them that he would take good care of you. At first they were doubtful about it, but Jaehyun was good with words and he used reverse psychology to get them to say yes.

You got ready in a flowy dress and when he got home to pick you up, he was wearing a simple white shirt and some jeans.

He promised to get you back in one piece but he also said you would arrive a little late.

In the inside of his car he finally could kiss you the way he wanted: passionately. “Gosh, I really wanted to do that,” he said still holding your cheeks in his palms.

You just smiled and looked at him the way that he is: the love of your life.

“So what are the plans?” You asked excitedly.

“Go around, see places we haven’t seen before, do things we can’t do regularly... The day is beautiful today,” he explained.

And he was right, the sun was pale, the day was breezy, and the sky was blue.

You guys were driving down the highway with no destination at all, going wherever life takes you.

Jaehyun had his hand on your thigh while he drove with the other, he looked super sexy. His thumb caressed your thigh unconsciously while he had his eyes on the road. There wasn’t much traffic today, in fact, it was deserted. There was only grass on each side of the road, which was getting pretty boring.

Suddenly, Jaehyun stopped on a curve. You got scared because you thought the car had problems or something.

You looked at him alarmed but he just laughed and said, “Relax, I just want to have alone time with you.” He ran his hand up your thigh.

“Here? On the middle of the highway?” you teased him.

“There’s no one around,” he shrugged.

He got closer and kissed you, you responded placing your hands gently on the back of his neck. The kiss turned more passionate with each passing minute until you both were gasping for air.

“Baby,” he whispered on your lips while his forehead was on yours.

“Mhm?” you asked.

“I know we haven’t had the chance to be this close before, I know this would be your first time ever and it’s supposed to be special, but I really, really want to go to the back of this car with you and make you mine,” he confessed with his eyes closed.

It was really scary. You were gonna have your first intimate moment with Jaehyun and you couldn’t wait. But in the middle of the highway in a car? That changed the whole picture.

“Here? In the middle of the highway? Can’t we go somewhere more private? I wouldn’t mind being in the car but... here?” You were unsure.

“You’re right,” he agreed, “let’s look for something more private.”

You both composed yourselves and he started the car again to continue with your roadtrip.

A few kilometers farther, he saw a lonely tree in the middle of a grassland. He drove right into it, not knowing what you would find on the way because you could barely see other thing than tall grass, but he finally arrive to under the tree.

That place looked magical, like a fairytale. You got off the car to look around you. The breeze was nice, the birds chirped in the distance giving a nice and relaxing atmosphere. Jaehyun embraced you and started caressing your arm. You looked at him and he was already looking at you. He breathed in and said, “This is nice.” You smiled and nodded.

He opened the door and sat on the backseat, looking at you, inviting you with his eyes. You sat by his side but then he whispered in your ear, “Come here,” in the most teasing tone ever.

You straddled him and quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, as he wrapped his around your waist. Like magnets, your lips crashed with each other, not being able to wait another second.

Quickly, his lips ran to your neck, sending a shot of pleasure right between your legs. You tangled your fingers in his hair while his mouth kept going south, now kissing your collarbones. He could feel your breath getting agitated and he took the chance to look you in the eyes and ask, “How are you feeling?” while his hands slid your dress’ straps off your shoulders.

“I feel great,” you whispered. You could feel him getting hard under you, so you started getting impatient. Out of instinct, you started grinding on him. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the backseat, enjoying the feeling. He hummed and said, “Are you sure you don’t know what you’re doing?”

You smirked and said, “I’m just following my instincts.”

“Well your instincts are doing amazing, baby,” he groaned.

When you were about to start kissing again, your phone rang. You both jumped and you took your phone to see who dared to interrupt such a moment of heat. It was your best friend.

“Don’t answer,” he said softly. “Tell her you’re busy, she should know.”

And that was probably true, so you just answered quickly, “I’m kinda busy, is something wrong?” Jaehyun kept kissing your neck, nibbling it, he was so mean! He was testing your strength.

You could hear her smirk almost, “Oh? OH! Okay!!! I’m sorry!” She hung up quickly.

“Where were we? Oh, right...” Jaehyun said with a groggy voice and then kissed your shoulder. “Shall we take this off?” He asked grabbing the hem of your dress.

“If it bothers you,” you shrugged.

“Everything covering your body is bothering me right now, baby girl,” he confessed as he lifted your dress. He threw the piece of cloth to the front seat.

You haven’t been with anyone yet, but just in case this happened, you wore your white lace lingerie and it worked since he was left speechless as soon as he saw you.

You got shy when he eyed you from bottom up and you covered your face with your hands.

He took your hands in his and whispered, “Don’t be shy, you look stunning. In fact, you look like a Greek goddess.” His hands traveled to your hips, where he pulled you closer to kiss you. You unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his perfect torso. GOD! How come did you have such a perfect boyfriend?

He bit your bottom lip, letting it go slowly. Every touch from his hands had you seeing stars, this was such an intimate moment you couldn’t experienced before. The mellow music on the background was perfect, meanwhile you had your eyes closed as he ran his hands from your thighs to your waist. “So perfect,” he whispered on your mouth, pecking your lips one last time before unfastening your bra.

He froze at the sight of your exposed breasts. His hands quickly grabbed them gently and then he got closer, giving them butterfly kisses until reaching your nipples. He sucked them, licked them and nibbled at them gently, the pleasure going straight to your core. His hands held your back firmly, trying to stop you from melting into his fingers. You were squeezing his thighs with yours in an attempt of easing the ache between your legs.

His hand slid down your torso, past your navel and his fingers snaked their way inside your panties. You felt the butterflies of anticipation in your stomach. Your boyfriend was finally touching you the way you wanted to be touched for so long.

His delicate, long fingers slid between your folds skillfully, he totally knew what he was doing. “Oh...” you moaned as soon as he reached for your clit.

He groaned back at you, “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet...” He looked at you to see your expression while his middle finger was sliding inside of you. The stretch was kinda uncomfortable but had you closing your eyes.

“Oh god, baby, you’re really tight,” he bit his bottom lip. “I really can’t wait to be inside of you,” he confessed in a whisper.

“Let’s make it happen,” you said desperate already.

“Let’s take these off,” he said as he pulled the hem of your panties.

You stood up a little to help him take them off. There you were, all exposed in front of him. As if hypnotized, he studied all your body and bit his lip again.

“Lay back, I gotta prepare you first,” he commanded. You did as told and he moved within the limited space at the back of the car.

Your stomach curled in anticipation. He sat in front of you and said, “Open your legs baby”. That phrase alone sent shivers down your spine. You did it slowly, he was looking right between your legs and he licked his lips when he saw your dripping core.

He helped you to be comfier on the backseat, placing one of your legs on the upper part of the backseat and the other over his shoulder. He bended over, his head was between your thighs, he kissed his way down to your heat. His mouth was too close, you started heavy breathing.

“Calm down, babe, I’m gonna make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice getting deeper. He’d never talked like that before and you were loving every second of it.

Jaehyun dived between your legs, giving a gentle kiss to your mound and then went south, kissing right where you needed him. You jumped from the new sensation but he was being so gentle with you, he looked at you to make sure you were okay. He continued, kissing your clit and then he ran the tip of his tongue between your folds. You felt your eyes rolling back, a moan escaping your lips, “Oh my God...”

“You like it, baby girl?” He stopped his ministrations to ask you.

“Mhm!” You nodded desperately.

He continued licking slowly, enjoying your wetness. Then he increased his pace, flicking his tongue quickly and after, he sucked hard, making you scream, “AH! Fuck!”

Jaehyun sticked his finger again and then added another, stretching you even more. When he knew you were ready, he stopped, leaving you with an emptiness.

“Jaehyun, please, I need you baby,” you pleaded.

“You can have me, I’m all yours,” he replied, smiling sweetly while unbuckling his belt to pull down his pants.

You didn’t dare to look down, even though you were all naked, you were shy to look at your boyfriend. He knew that, so he said in a sultry voice, “Look at me, look at how hard i am for you. This is all for you, my love.”

You ventured into looking down and your eyes got full of his beautiful member, his tip as pink as his ears when he gets flustered.

He took your hands and wrapped one of them around his lenght, hissing at the sensation of your soft hand. He helped you move it up and down, consuming in the feeling.

“Lay down, baby, I’m gonna make you mine,” his voice getting lower by an octave.

You did as told while he fished for a condom in the pocket of his already discarded pants. You watched him roll the thing down his length skillfully and reality hit you: you were about to have your first time with this gorgeous man.

Suddenly you got nervous, what if he didn’t like it? You were inexperienced while he had all the knowledge about it.

He could see the concern in your eyes and he assured you, “Hey... it’s gonna be okay. I’ll be gentle with you, alright?” His soft voice calming you almost instantly. You just nodded letting him know you were ready.

He settled between your legs and holding his dick with one hand and your waist with the other, he started looking for your entrance. You started heavy breathing at the touch of him.

He finally found it and with a little push, his tip entered you. The stretch was burning and you whimpered because of it.

“Shh... it’s okay, we’ll take it slow,” Jaehyun hissed.

You pursed your lips and closed your eyes tightly, bearing the pain while he kept sliding inside you oh so slowly. “My Goodness, you’re so tight,” you heard him say under his breath. When he finally got balls deep into you, he let out a moan in his glorious voice. He looked at you with fiery eyes and asked, “Are you okay?”

You just nodded because you were speechless. He stretched his hand, caressing your cheek and you leaned on it and trapped his thumb inside your mouth, sucking it.

“Oh, baby...” he groaned. “Can I move?” He asked.

“Please...” you begged.

Jaehyun started moving his hips, looking so deliciously sexy while thrusting you slowly. A few strands of his hair were dangling on his face and he looked amazing so concentrated in making you feel good. Every time he went in he hissed and when he went out let out a sigh.

“Oh my God... Jaehyun...” you moaned and he hummed savoring the sound of your voice.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty,” Jaehyun hissed. “You’re taking my cock so well.”

You whimpered at his dirty talk, discovering how much you liked it.

“Can I go faster?” He asked for your permission, but at that moment he could just wreck you open and you would say thank you.

He took your right leg and placed it on his shoulder while your other leg was hanging from the backseat. Jaehyun held you by the waist and started going fast and deep, constantly hitting a spot that made your eyes roll back.

“Oh my God!!!! Yes!!!! Yesss!!! God!!!” You screamed and gasped, trying to hold yourself from the seat, from the door, from the window, desperately. The car was moving at the rhythm of Jaehyun’s hips, if anyone could see it, would know what was happening inside.

You started feeling a buzz in your head and something in your pelvis trying to explode.

Jaehyun could feel you clenching and groaned, “You wanna cum already babe?”

So that was what you were feeling! “Mhm!” Your breathing got faster and you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, to let go of something inside you that you didn’t understand.

“Let go baby,” he panted, “Let me see you cum on my dick.”

“Oh Jaehyun! I want to scream!” You confessed as a whine.

“Do it baby, what’s stopping you?” He said, still ramming into you.

You let go and started feeling some delicious tingles throughout your body. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned loudly.

Jaehyun groaned from the feeling of you clenching him, “God! You feel so good!” And with that he came. “Ah~ so good...” he whispered as he gave his last thrust. He leaned over and kissed you, bringing you back to yourself. You ran your hand on his hair and he whispered “I love you” and then kissed the tip of your nose.

He discarded the condom and helped you get dressed again.

You guys continued your journey around town. You stopped at a restaurant and then at the top of a mountain, enjoying the sunset together.

“I booked a hotel for us, but we don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I planned a special night for us,” he said as he kissed your hand.

“Jae, I would go anywhere if you are by my side,” you whispered and then kissed him sweetly. “Plus, now I’m addicted to you,” you confessed, your cheeks flustering.

“Was it THAT good?” He was holding a laugh.

“It was amazing, Jeong Yuno,” you followed his game.

“In that case, I can make it even better,” he was smirking.

“I can’t wait,” you smirked back.

“Oh my God... your parents are going to kill me if they ever find out,” he said in a playful tone.

“They don’t need to,” you shrugged.

“Oh? Watch out world, we have a baddie,” Jaehyun said mockingly.

In the hotel room, on the huge bed, Jaehyun made you his once again. Looking you in the eyes while he thrusted you passionately, enjoying every twist of your face and every moan that escaped your lips. His hair tickling your face whenever he leaned in to kiss you, his hands roaming your body, kneading every inch of your skin to make you feel special.

After you both reached your high, you laid there in his arms. You were tracing imaginary figures on his chest absentmindedly while he caressed your arm. He smelled so nice, so manly, it was addictive.

“I love you so much,” Jaehyun said in a groggy voice, sign of his exhaustion.

“I love you too, Jaehyun,” you smiled.

“Happy anniversary, my angel,” he said as he closed his eyes to take a nap.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Pregnant!Female!Reader) pt. 12

Cult girl deals with an unexpected and unwelcome guest.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: pregnancy, emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, infidelity, threats of violence

Step three: kill Anna

So maybe there was an understanding that the pregnancy was to be kept secret from Anna.

The withdrawal of Archie and Max from the picture left a hole in the plan. Just when it looked like you had secured that much-needed victory, it shriveled up and died right before your eyes. That much was certain. Everything else was a big question mark.

Ever since he felt the baby kicking, Hannibal became even more hopelessly enamored with the idea of being a father. He never mentioned it, of course, but it was there. It was there in the way he cooed at your stomach and how his hand lingered after he felt a kick. He was in heaven.

For a few days, it looked like the downward trajectory was beginning to flatten. Then you remembered your favorite line from Ryan Reynolds' Deadpool:

"Life is an endless series of trainwrecks with only brief, commercial-like breaks of happiness." You repeated to yourself as your phone flashed Theresa's call icon.

It took you a minute to remember that Theresa in your phone was actually Anna, because you hadn't bothered to change it. In a way, it was symbolic. Theresa was the head you cut off, and Anna sprouted up in her place. All in the pursuit of making your life unbearable.

You pulled the toothbrush from your mouth and placed it next to the sink. Lazily, you brought the phone to your ear. "What?"

"Hey pretty girl!" Anna said, using her most transparently fake cheery voice. "How's it going?"

Then it clicked. You felt kind of stupid that you didn't see it coming. In the world of cults, this was known as 'lovebombing'; a manipulation tactic in which the cult leader showers their target with affection, compliments, validation or anything that would make them associate good feelings with the group. In any other context, it would be called 'ass-kissing'.

You narrowed your eyes in skepticism. "What do you want?"

"Jeez, who crapped in your corn flakes?" She scoffed. "Can't a girl just call her little sister to say hi?"

It would have been one thing to say 'cousin', which, despite your bad blood, would have been technically accurate. But 'sister' was crossing a line. The blood that binded you and Anna together was thinner than water.

"We're not sisters, Anna." You corrected. "Why are you calling?"

"I just wanted to let you know that all is forgiven." She said, slipping back into that phony cheerful tone. "That little fiasco at the funeral, it's water under the bridge."

What Anna didn't know was that the water under the bridge was never water, but gasoline. Every drop that flowed under that bridge only created a more dangerous blaze for when you finally burned it down.

"Awesome." You said, flatly.

"I also wanted to say, 'may the best woman win'." She jeered. "I don't want to alarm you, but Liam and I have been fucking like bunnies."

You gagged. "I'm not alarmed but I certainly didn't need to know that."

"I've been keeping track of my ovulation," She disregarded your objection and continued the conversation she wanted to have. "And I even put child locks on the computer so Liam can't watch porn. Can't spare even a drop, y'know. It's too crucial."

"I will literally let you have the entire inheritance if you please just shut up right now." You said through gritted teeth.

"Oh?" She perked up. "Come on, don't give up. Don't make it too easy. Winning is just more fun when someone else loses."

She was growing into her Theresa shoes quite well.

"Seriously, though," You raised your eyebrows. "If it means I never have to see you again, by all means. Take the damn money."

"You know I love you, right?" Anna blurted out, pretending to be offended. "You may not think so, but I love you like a sister."

Again, you fought the urge to feel bad for her. Her model of sisterly love was Theresa. She could use the word to invoke sympathy, but would never know what it meant. It hit your ear exactly the same as when fundamentalist christian strangers said they loved you and that's why they were harassing you. Just an empty annoyance.

You rolled your eyes. "Goodbye, Anna."

"Wait!" She shouted as if she was about to die.

You threw your head back in exasperation. "What?!"

"I wanted to give you a little good-luck gift." She said.

You were slightly interested. "Oh?"

"Yes." She answered. "Can I swing by and drop it off later?"

You sighed. "Whatever. As long as you make it fast."

You were most certainly noticeably pregnant, but a fluffy robe obscured any misplaced curves just enough. You just hoped she wouldn't ask why you were wearing a fluffy robe in July. Anna arrived at the house, with Liam, who was holding a small basket of colorful jars and bottles.

You waited a minute to see if she would just leave the basket on the porch, but she didn't. You resignedly opened the door.

"[F/N]!" She shouted with that hyper-enthusiastic smile. You cringed, trying not to let her presence trigger your morning sickness.

The smile disappeared from her face. "Jesus H, you look like hell."

You desperately wanted to inform her that it was the strain of growing a human inside your body, but you held your tongue and thought of an excuse.

"I'm hungover." You said. Yeah, that would work.

"The usual, I see." Anna snipped at you under her breath.

You eyed the basket. You didn't even bother to mask your disappointment when you realized it wasn't food. "What's this?"

"Oh, this?" Anna said as if she were starting a sales pitch. "This is my olive branch. My exclusive DoTERRA fertility rejuvenation kit."

Your brain refused to process that Anna had been sucked in to an MLM, as it was really only a matter of time. You just didn't think it would take this long.

"Dude, you're twenty-nine and I'm twenty-six." You narrowed your eyes at her. "What on earth are we rejuvenating?"

She pointed to a collection of little bottles. "So these are for the initial cleanse. Put a few drops of this in your food, and some of this in your bathwater-"

She rattled on with practiced certainty about the fictitious health benefits of thyme and geranium oils, how they promote fertility and whatnot.

"Thanks, Anna." You cut her off, reaching for the gift basket. You didn't intend to use any of it, but you could pawn it off on some struggling hunbot for less than they would buy it new.

Anna pulled the basket out of your reach. "Oh. I wasn't giving it to you."

Nothing surprised you anymore, and this was no exception. "I thought you said it was a gift?"

"Oh, god no." She shook her head. "This whole kit costs, like, five hundred dollars."

You grimaced. "So you came here to show me your snake oil collection?"

"I came here to tell you in person about this amazing business opportunity." She said, returning to her fake smile. "For just $1000, you can be part of this amazing company-"

"Anna, what am I studying right now?" You cut her off.

She looked at you with round, clueless eyes. She looked back at Liam for help. He tapped his head to give her a hint.

"I want to say..." her voice trailed off. "...brain surgery?"

You shook your head. "No. Liam?"

"Clinical psychology with a specialization in cults." He answered. "You want to be the next Steven Hassan."

Anna didn't deserve Liam.

"So you're saying you're too smart for me?" Anna said, crossing her arms. "You're too busy going to your fancy college, living with your fancy boyfriend to support your own sister's hustle?"

"I'm saying you're in a cult." You countered. "A pretty obvious one, at that."

"Oh, when your only solution is a hammer every problem looks like a nail." She scoffed. "You think everything is a cult. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

"I'll be happy for you when you accomplish something that isn't built off the backs of people you fucked over." You said, allowing yourself to finally snap.

Anna's jaw hung open. "Do I even need to gesture to this house? Those clothes? That degree? All paid for by your rich boyfriend."

It's time.

You stepped on to the porch and shut the door behind you. "Liam. I have something to tell you."

Liam handed the basket off to Anna and approached. "Alright."

"No she doesn't, Liam." Anna objected. "Don't listen to her. You know she's a liar."

"Liam." You said, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember Nathan Sparks?"

"Anna's ex from college?" Liam folded his arms and looked at his wife. "Vaguely."

Anna gritted her teeth at you. "I swear to fucking god, [F/N]-"

"Anna, stop." Liam cut her off. "Let her speak."

"Anna continued to see him for two years after you got together." You smirked.

Liam's dial-up internet brain sputtered to life.

"Oh my god." His mouth hung open. "...is he 'pineapple'?!"

"Nope." You said. "You are."

"Is this true, Anna?" Liam said, in the overlap between denial and anger. "Did you keep seeing Nathan after we got together?"

Anna threw the basket on the ground, jars shattering, releasing a noxious cloud of concentrated snake oil. She was too busy glaring daggers at you to answer her husband.

"Fine. Don't tell me." He spat, turning back to you. "I'll hear it from you, [F/N]. You're the only one in this family who's been honest with me."

"She only wanted to get with you because your uncle is CEO of that publishing house." You added. You felt bad for essentially rubbing salt in the wound, but he was right to assume he wouldn't hear it from anyone else.

He placed his hand over his head as if to nurse a migrane. "How could I be so stupid..."

"Liam-" Anna said, her voice jumping a few octaves.

Liam put up his hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"I'm sorry, Lee." You offered. Even though you loved seeing Anna caught, you felt bad for every person she victimized along the way. Liam was no exception.

He dropped his shoulders and sighed. "Thank you, [F/N]. I'll be out of your way, now. Anna--"

He stopped himself, presumably to avoid saying something he would regret. "...find your own way home."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away, leaving Anna with you.

"Thanks for coming." You sneered at her, feeling around behind you for the door handle. "I'd call an uber if I were you."

"You twisted bitch." She scowled, hands hovering in your direction. "You just get off on ruining people's lives, don't you?"

"Oof, that's some serious projection, Anna." You said, unconsciously untying the belt of your robe and pulling it off your shoulders.

"You're-" She sputtered, her eyes growing to the size of personal pizzas. "You're fucking pregnant?!"

Shit. You thought, cycling through whatever braincells you had left for an idea of how to play this off as if you meant to do it.

"Surprise." You shrugged. Yeah, that would work.

"That's impossible!" She stammered. "You're- you're not even married!"

"Grandma never said anything about marriage." You grinned.

Anna struggled to find her words. "That is unfair!"

"So now that you're not winning, the game is unfair?" You raised an eyebrow.

She pursed her lips and pointed at you. "You aren't going to get away with this."

"Just like you didn't get away with cheating on your husband?" You taunted.

"I'm serious, [F/N]." Anna said, backing down the porch steps. "I will destroy everything you love just like you did to me."

For a half a second, the voice in your head told you to beware, that the threat should be taken seriously. Upon remembering it was coming from Anna, you pushed the thought from your mind.

You shouldn't have.

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 12: What Happens in Alleyways

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Sorry it's a lil short, it's more of a transition chapter to actually jumping into this case and Reader's now even more confusing "relationship" with Hotch. Things get kinkier and angrier and more explicit from here, but I'll do my best to tag stuff. Thanks for your patience as always, guys, especially amidst the dumpster fire that is current events right now <3 Your reblogs and tags slay me and I love it.

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary: Turns out, the world doesn't stop on its axis just because you had sex with your boss. You’re unsure whether or not that’s a good thing.

Words: 1,882

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Violence, dark themes, explicit sexual content. More specific warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You awoke to the dim light of the dawn, rain gently pattering on the windows, and the blaring sound of Hotch’s ringtone three feet from your face.

“Jesus christ, old man,” you groaned, blinking your eyes open, “turn your hearing aids up.”

Already sitting up in bed, he paused with the phone halfway to his ear.

Shit. You were being too casual - waking up in his bed, joking with him. Acting like you belonged there. You didn’t know how he felt about what happened, for all you knew he regretted every second and-

“You’re paying for that later,” he smiled before answering the call.

The playful threat filled you with relief before it made your stomach flip, and the memories of last night came flooding back. His body, his eyes, his hands all burned inside your eyelids as if you’d been staring directly at the sun. You’d never been in this situation before - waking up next to someone you’d spent the night with and desperately hoping it was the first time rather than the last. But you’d also never felt your body sing with the white-hot pleasure it did when it was touched by the seemingly unattainable man who did so last night, so. There was that.

The low rumble of his voice brought you back to the present, and you looked up at his face to find it was twisted up in concentration, resignation, and something else.

“I’ll be right down,” he said, standing up swiftly and pulling his work clothes on with practiced speed. “Don’t let anyone touch anything.”

He shoved his phone in his suit pocket and looked at you, still tangled up in his sheets.

“Get dressed and meet me downstairs,” he said, terse. “There’s a body in the alley outside the building.”

“Outside this building?”

“Yes,” he responded, “and there’s a note.”

As he swept out the door, leaving you reeling, you realized what the other expression on his face was. Fear.

***

Hotch had gotten ready and exited the apartment before you had even processed the situation, and your mind was racing a mile a minute as you flung yourself out of bed and scrambled to get dressed. The logical assumption, of course, was that the stalker had left the body. People didn’t just end up dead in alleyways in this part of town, and certainly not in the middle of a rainstorm mere floors from where the BAU Unit Chief slept - not without a reason.

You threw on your coat and boots, forgoing contacts and makeup in favor of your glasses and a hat to cover the tangled mess last night’s tryst had made of your hair. Without even pausing to look in a mirror, you scurried down the stairwell and exited the lobby into the cold October wind.

It was easy to tell which alley the body occupied - there were an excess of thirty people milling in and out of the space to the right of the building. Crime scene investigators, policemen, and other personnel talked in hushed voices. You spotted a clearing in the sea of people and knew that’s where the victim would be, given a wide berth per Hotch’s instruction.

The team hung out at the edge of the circle watching Reid, who was kneeling in front of the body slumped against the side of the apartment building. Moving closer, you could tell he was in the middle of one of his spiels, gesturing wildly while the everyone nodded along. You joined the group that had formed around him and caught the middle of what seemed to be a hypothesis about victimology.

“ -no patterns, obviously, but if we assume similar characteristics would be present in all his victims, it’s hard to discern what statement he could be making. Positing a male in his mid-to-late twenties is statistically most likely, but stalkers of this age group also frequently have some sort of sexual motivation, and if the autopsy is consistent with what we can observe now,” he gestured to the body, “I don’t think that’s the case here.”

Throughout his speech, you’d been scrutinizing the victim - a brunette women who looked to be no older than 20, arranged in a half-sitting position against the wall behind her. There was no blood anywhere you could see, in fact, she barely looked dead at all, likely thanks to the below-freezing temperatures last night that had put a pause on the early stages of decomposition. Pinned to her shirt was a white envelope that bore an ominous message in bold, black ink:

“For my friends at the BAU.”

Not hard to guess who had killed this woman.

“Can you determine cause of death, Spence?” Prentiss asked, her arms folded.

“I’m not sure, but if I had to guess…” he used his pen to push the victim’s hair to the side, exposing a neck mottled with stark blue bruises. 

“Anger, then,” you offered, speaking to the psychological drivers behind strangulation, “but I doubt we’ll find any sign of sexual assault. The unsub made it clear that his disdain is directed towards us; it’s not likely that would extend to his victim.”

The rest of the team nodded in thought, but Hotch looked at you in surprise, as if just noticing your presence. As his eyes glued on yours, his face changed, and he grabbed your arm in an unpleasantly tight grip.

“Open the note. I’ll just be a moment.”

Unaware of his boss’ sudden change in demeanor and the vice on your elbow, Morgan gloved up and reached for the envelope. Hotch, meanwhile, unceremoniously dragged you down the alleyway and around to the deserted back side of the building.

“What the hell?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of his grip.

“Did you fail to look in a mirror before you came down here?” Hotch’s narrowed stare betrayed nothing but contempt, and you scrambled to determine the implication of his question.

“I’m sorry, did you want me to take a shower before looking at the dead body? I did the best I could, it seemed urgent -”

“No,” he snapped, “I’m referring to the fact that your neck looks worse off than our victim’s does.”

You processed his words for a moment before the implication hit you.

“Are you talking about the hickies?! Christ, Hotch, I’ll get a scarf then. Just give me a second!”

“Please do. I’d like my agents to appear professional, not like they’re college kids coming off a one night stand.”

His words halted your stomp back into the building, and you turned back, furious.

“You put them there! How is this my fault?”

“I didn’t think I would have to be this explicit about the fact that I don’t want the fact that we had sex last night broadcast to everyone at the crime scene.”

You gaped at him in disbelief.

“Are you embarrassed or something? I’m sorry if you regret what happened, but you don’t need to lash out at me like this -”

“I’m not lashing out,” he interrupted, “I’m informing you of my expectations for my agents. Is there a problem?”

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to smack that perfectly raised eyebrow and controlled expression right off his face. But he was boxing you in - speaking to you as your boss and not the man you slept with last night, and as much as you hated him for it, your sense of self-preservation won out.

“There’s no problem,” you mumbled, unable to make eye contact as you slipped past him and around the building.

You made it halfway up the stairwell before the tears started flowing. Had you really thought sleeping with him was going to change something? That he was going to ask you to be his fucking girlfriend, like he wasn’t the chief of your unit and you weren’t a twenty-something intern? For all you knew, he did this all the time. His level of skill in the area certainly made it seem like he did.

That wasn’t true, though, you knew it. He may not reveal much, but you could tell it had been a fraught decision to let your relationship develop the way it had. Perhaps even a decision he regretted now - and it certainly seemed so, given his behavior.

Wiping tears on your sleeve, you fumbled with the spare key he’d given you to his apartment and walked in. You glanced in the mirror by the entrance and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. Hotch wasn’t exaggerating when he likened the marks to strangulation - indigo smudges, still peppered with the angry red of burst capillaries, circled your throat.

It was a juvenile, possessive, ridiculous display, and Hotch was absolutely right to label it unprofessional. And yet, the thought that you’d walked onto the scene bearing the marks he’d given you filled you with a thrill so intense you had to brace yourself against the entryway table and clamp your legs together.

Breathe. There’s still a fucking murder scene downstairs.

You steadied yourself and headed for your duffel bag, where you’d thankfully packed a scarf in preparation for the cold snap that was predicted to hit the state this week. Midway through unzipping your bag, though, your eyes landed on his dresser and the devil sitting on your shoulder, buzzing with a deadly combination of anger and arousal, whispered a terrible, reckless idea in your ear.

***

You practically skipped downstairs to rejoin the team, who appeared to be engaged in a lively debate about the contents of the envelope Morgan was holding. After gloving up, you reached out a hand towards him.

“Can I read it?”

He handed it over, distracted by another stream of consciousness from Reid. Hotch took note of your return and glanced in your direction before turning back to the conversation.

You pretended to read the note and waited for him to notice.

You waited all of three seconds.

He whipped his head back so comically fast you struggled to suppress a snort, and you knew exactly what he was looking at. A midnight blue cashmere scarf, nicked from his dresser and wrapped artfully around your neck to cover the bruises, just like he’d asked. The first compliment you’d ever paid him was in regards to this scarf; tentatively whispered when he’d worn it to a chilly 2 am crime scene. He’d accepted the compliment passively, but the optimistic part of you had noted that he seemed to wear it much more frequently after that.

You weren’t entirely sure what statement you were intending to make by wearing it, but his reaction told you you’d certainly succeeded at provoking something.

Morgan reached back out for the note you were still pretending to read and dropped it in an evidence bag. If he noticed Hotch steaming from the ears next to you, he didn’t say so.

“They’re ready to pack everything up and head back to the lab. Let’s meet ‘em there?”

Everyone nodded in the affirmative and headed back to the SUVs.

“You riding with me?” Morgan asked, nudging your ribs with an elbow.

“No,” Hotch answered for you, an unseen hand suddenly gripping the back of your neck. “She’s not.”

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