#this image is real n canon

[popcrackalackin]

evil yaoi panel edits

guys wheres the part in hsbc when dirk and john have an ULTIMATE bloody anime battle whilst also PASSIONATELY and HATEFULLY making out mid fight and then after they lick the blood off each other!!!!

[seventh-district]

Dying Star

In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

- - - - - - -

Sam’s words have been weighing heavy on your mind ever since you discussed your shared future and the various forms it could take. You didn’t realize just how heavy they were until it all came spilling out of your tired mind on a late night spent together beneath the stars.

Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader

Word Count: 4,053

Contains: [angst] [a dash of humor] [a hint of chubby!Sam bc i like 'em strong and soft] [crying] [cuddling (dub-con cuddles with Quinn in the past & consensual ones with Sam in the present)] [emotional hurt/comfort] [implied/referenced dub-con sex (nothing graphic) (in the past between Darlin' and Quinn to be specific) (refer to my Ao3 notes for further explanation)] [mentioned Quinn] [not quite Dissociation i guess but Darlin' does zone-out/get lost in thought more than once] [pet names (Darlin' (obvs.) and honey)] [Reader is Darlin'] [Sam wears a cowboy hat bc i said so] [some passive suicidality from Sam if you squint (hell, maybe you don't even have to squint)]

A/Ns: Well, well, well, here I am, the person who said they wouldn't write any Redactedverse fanfic. I recently felt a mighty need to expand upon the blurb I wrote in this post, and I'm braving my fandom anxiety by sharing it here. pls be nice 2 me abt it

Timeline-wise, this fic takes place sometime after the ‘Talking About the Future With Your Vampire Mate’ audio but sometime before their presumed eventual departure from the house that William gave Sam, given that they've already had the 'turning' discussion but are still on the same roof in this fic.

This is a songfic, inspired by and quoting verses from 3 songs. Those being:

‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain

‘Fix What You Didn’t Break’ by Nate Smith

‘No Plan’ by Hozier

The roof of Sam’s house is far from a ‘cushy’ place to relax. But as you lie here next to him under the stars, a knowledge settles within you that you wouldn’t trade the rough shingles beneath you for the softest mattress in the world. Not if it meant there’d be anyone other than him lying next to you.

Some people might counter that it’s an easy thing for you to say, given the number of nights you’ve thrown a balled-up shirt onto one end of a worn-out couch and called it a bed. But some people don’t know you as well as they think they do.

You’ve known luxury. Quinn might’ve been just as content taking his fill on a seedy motel bed as he was wrapped in silks at a Hilton, but he knew how to play up the luxe when it served him to do so. And in the early days as he worked to lure you in, it did. Plush sheets and expensive drinks helped to soften the preordained blows and dull the imminent pain that your nights with him held.

Once you’d latched onto the bait though, he let the act drop one piece at a time, like props collapsing on a stage. After all, what was the point in all of those frivolities when you both knew what you really came to him for? It wasn’t to be wined and dined, it wasn’t to be dressed up and shown off, and it wasn’t even to be slowly stripped of it all, laid out across the rolling clouds of a pillowy mattress.

It was to be used. Tranced. Restrained. Bitten. Drank from. Choked. Hit. Edged. Denied. Made to writhe and whine and bleed and plead. Plead for more, for less, for nothing, for anything. Anything to quiet your mind and fill the ever-expanding void inside you where you suspect love was supposed to live.

That’s what you both really wanted.

At least, that’s what you told him you wanted.

That’s what you told yourself.

You only got what you asked for.

To your right, Sam stirs, stretching gently with a yawn. The soft noise he releases as he does so reminds you of where you are, and you trace back through your thoughts to find how you got so lost.

…Right. Luxury.

While your relationship with Quinn certainly changed over time, you never forgot what it felt like in the beginning. 

You remember nights laid next to him, body sore, mind quiet. Quinn’s idea of aftercare was lacking to say the least, but you had nothing better to compare it to at the time, and you’d take what you could get. At least your head felt empty, and the bed was soft. Exhaustion would pull you under soon enough.

The mattress, sheets, and pillows enveloping you were likely worth more than you even made that past month. ...Or several. You found that display of luxury hard to be impressed by though, when it wasn’t the type of comfort you’d been seeking.

As Quinn shifted in his presumed sleep, pulling you in tighter, you didn’t fight it. You found yourself unwilling to fight anything he did, like his mere presence was enough to drain the fight right out of you. You told yourself that you were okay with that. Because you wanted it.

Lying there with your head on his bare chest, you took a deep breath and told yourself that you liked the stench of cheap cologne, poorly masking the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. You silently told yourself that you liked everything. You liked the pain that he chased with hints of pleasure. You liked the loss of power, the way you couldn’t fight back if you wanted to once he looked you in the eyes. You liked all the things he said, no matter how much the truth might hurt.

He was right, you supposed. Your desires, the things you craved, the depravity that you so enjoyed, wasn’t normal. It was uncommon, unusual, and in the eyes of some, unfathomable. To possess such dark desires, there must be something truly broken inside you.

How lucky you were, to have found someone willing to indulge you. Someone that could give you everything you wanted, and be so kind as to keep it a secret too. He promised that word of the things he did to you, the things you let him do, would never get out. You remember the way he held your hand as he told you, falling for the guise of sincerity in his eyes. You remember his warm smile, and his razor sharp teeth.

You remember seeing that exact same smile on his face through one-way glass as he sat across from Sam and told him everything.

You stood in that room and thought back to those nights of luxury. To the feeling of his nails ghosting over the freshly healed punctures in your neck. To the way he held you against him. You remember laying there, lifeless, feeling like prey playing dead. Afraid to move, afraid to disturb him. But why? He hadn’t threatened you. He never told you that you had to stay. He never said that you couldn’t move, or pull away. So why did you feel that way?

As you stood, helplessly witnessing hours of his slander in that interrogation room, you understood. Your rose-tinted glasses had long since shattered, and you saw that smile for what it was. It was the smile of a man playing a dangerous game, brimming with satisfaction, thinking he’d won.

The radio near you begins to crackle, static obscuring the hosts voice as they announce the upcoming song. Sam doesn’t even open his eyes, just raises a hand and reaches out, blindly adjusting the antenna of the old device.

You’ve teased him for holding onto it for so long, as he is wont to do with damn near all of his possessions. But as you watch him deftly extend and angle the antenna with practiced care, the response he once gave you proves itself true once again.

“I don’t wanna replace it, Darlin’. It’s not broken. It just needs someone who knows how to make it sing again.”

The static clears, and music flows through the radio’s old speakers once more.

You watch Sam return his hand to its prior position beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow of his own. The way he’s lying has his hat pushed forward, and it’d be doing a damn good job of shielding his face from the sun if it weren’t somewhere around midnight at the moment. Still, it suits him somehow, despite its lack of any practicality. All he’s missing is a stalk of wheat between his teeth and a tree to lean against and he’d be the spitting image of the cowboy he swears he isn’t.

His other hand rests on the soft curve of his stomach, rising and falling again as he breathes. He’s the image of peace in moments like these, and you’re drawn to it like a moth to flame. Maybe one of these days you’ll find some of your own, but for now you’re more than content to bask in his.

As you admire him, he takes a slow, deep breath and you mirror it on instinct. The grounding practice helps you leave your mind and return to your body, if just for a moment. In doing so, you realize just how tense your ruminations have made you.

You relax your hands, releasing the blanket beneath you from your iron grip. You brush your palms over it, worried that you’ve torn the fabric once you realize that your nails had halfway shifted to claws. You don’t fret much over damage to your own possessions, but this blanket is Sam’s and you’d hate to ruin it. Though, you suppose he doesn’t prize it too much or he wouldn’t have laid it out here across the roof in the first place.

“If I buy somethin’ it’s because I wanna use it. Now quit frettin’ and get over here.” You recall what he told you earlier as he patted the blanket next to him in invitation, and you smile.

Doing a small stretch of your own, you release the tension in your shoulders, turning your attention back to the stars above you. For a while, you let the soft music wash over your tired mind.

“I asked him not to kill me politely. He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source. I washed up on the sea glass shores. I’m nobody's captive.”

In spite of your best efforts to relax, you’re still subconsciously futzing with the loose threads of the old blanket beneath you.

You’re made aware of it when Sam reaches a hand down, gently laying it over yours and effectively stilling your anxious motion.

“Burning like a dying star, invasive weeds rooted in my heart, set in a crooked trajectory. The journey here was hard, I was almost pulled apart. Trying to leave his orbit took what’s left of me.”

You flip your hand over beneath his so you can hold it properly, lacing your fingers together.

For reasons beyond your understanding, emotion tightens your throat, the threat of tears pooling in your eyes.

…You must be more tired than you thought.

As minutes pass and one song fades into another, your gaze dances across the blurry, scattered points of light in the dark sky.

“You were the star in the pitch black, shine the way on the way back. Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers.”

Sam’s always been so much better at identifying stars and finding constellations. But as the music plays, you begin to see one of your own.

“Picked up the towel that I threw in, took in a heart that was ruined. Showed me the past ain’t a tattoo, loved me even when you didn’t have to.”

“Sam.” You squeeze his hand to get his attention.

He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”

“I want you to look at something.” You swallow back the emotion that tries to seep into your voice, but it catches his attention all the same.

He leans up and lifts his hat from his head, setting it aside near the radio. He then reaches to turn a dial back, lowering the music’s volume to give you his full attention.

You release his hand, raising yours up as he turns back to face you. You don’t say anything at first, nearly too lost in your own mind to realize you need to actually voice your developing thoughts.

"What—what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Your hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in your line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above you. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow your less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', your pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along your exposed wrist where your sleeve had slipped back, he takes your hand in his again and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." You say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." You nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting you. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

You scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh. "No—no I mean—like... what's another name for it... Oh, it's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but you cut him off before he can start. "But no. No, this isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in your overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Your frown is audible in your voice as you latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at your over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, honey, I promise."

You huff, but begrudgingly shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention.”

Sam’s brow furrows as you continue to explain, realization setting in that you really are being serious.

“I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...And there you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places and people that I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, at Wonderworld, surrounded by the ghost of him. Your warmth, your presence, your aura—even with all of your walls up, you outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me home."

In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand squeezes yours tight, his urgent tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

You look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, faint shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

You reach out, pulling him down into you. He falters for a moment at the sudden proximity, but quickly embraces you in turn. Burying your face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear your words, muffled against the thick flannel, but his hearing catches them just fine.

"Don't burn out too quickly. Please. I still need you here. I don't—I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

The words feel like a weight being lifted from your shoulders, but with it comes a flood of emotion they’d been holding back. You cry harder into him, and as much as it pains Sam to witness, he lets you feel it, for as long as you need.

Your fear of losing him manifests itself physically, nails curling and sharpening again. When he feels them prick his skin through the fabric of his shirt, he calls your name but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans further down into you, letting his weight ground you. “Darlin’, I am right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

As you eventually cry yourself out, enough wherewithal returns to you to realize that you should probably release the poor man from your grasp, and the awkward position you pulled him into. When he pulls away enough to see your face, you notice a string of snot running from your nose to his shirt collar. Quickly batting it away out of embarrassment, you cringe, voice thick as you apologize. “Eugh, gross. Uh… sorry. About that.”

He shakes his head, laughing good-naturedly as you wipe at your nose with your jacket sleeve. “It’s completely fine, honey. After all, I’ve been covered in plenty of your, uh… various fluids before. When you come from my line of work, this is child’s play.”

He leans to his right, reaching back and pulling—of all things—a handkerchief from his jeans’ left back pocket. You laugh at his words, and at the sight, but with how congested you are it turns into more of a hacking cough than anything. Accepting his offering, you blow your nose into the black patterned fabric.

As soon as you can speak somewhat clearly, you can’t stop the teasing remark that slips out of you, gesturing with the wad of fabric in your hand. “You know, you really aren’t beating the cowboy allegations with stuff like this.”

He rolls his eyes but his soft smile remains. “It’s a practical thing to have on me, ‘allegations’ be damned.”

You shake your head with a smile of your own, but don’t disagree. As you’re visibly unsure what to do with the dirtied fabric, he takes it from you, setting it aside. “I’ll toss it in the wash when we go back inside. Along with my shirt, and…” He eyes you for a moment. “…that jacket of yours too, given how long you’ve probably been wearin’ it.”

Normally you’d argue that it hasn’t been that long, but come to think of it, you actually can’t recall when you last washed the thing.

Reaching up and rubbing your temples, you already regret your crying fit as a headache begins to set in. “Fuck, Sam... I’m sorry for… whatever that just was. I don’t know what came over me.”

His expression falls into something serious again. “You never need to apologize for feeling. And it certainly seems like… you needed to feel that.”

You nod quietly, but don’t elaborate, prompting him to question you gently. “Darlin’. What was that about? The—the askin’ me not to leave. Are you… afraid that I’m gonna leave you?”

You close your eyes, weighing out your response. “…Not in the sense that you’ll break up with me or something, no.”

His gaze narrows and his head tilts as he rolls your answer over in his mind. “If it ain’t that, then—” He remembers how you mentioned ‘forever’ and cuts himself off as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “Oh. …Oh, Darlin’, no.”

You open your eyes to watch as he shifts from leaning next to you, moving to sit up beside you. “Is this about what I told you, when we sat up here and had our uh… turning discussion?”

You hate to admit it, but you nod in confirmation. “…It’s your choice, Sam, and I never want to take that away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I just did, I—I don’t want to make you feel guilty, or like you have to stick around for my sake. But I’d be lying to you if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind. The thought of you… leaving. Like that.”

He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “I… think I maybe should’ve been a bit more clear, when I said that. Because I wasn’t talking about any time soon. I didn’t want to give you the false impression that I plan on sticking around for centuries, but… I also wasn’t trying to imply that I’ve got plans to do it next week either.”

You bolt upright, voice cracking. “Next week?! I sure as shit hope not!” You grab your head, pain flaring and suddenly dizzy from the quick shift in position.

He places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I’m not, honey, I’m not. Did you catch the rest of my sentence? I’ve got no plans to leave this world any time soon. I promise.”

You groan, head pounding. “I heard you, I did, I just—fuck, I don’t even wanna think about you leaving so soon. Here I am, stressing, thinking I’ve only got—I don’t know���some odd years left with you, and…” You sigh, trailing off.

Sam stays quiet for a minute, letting the crickets sing.

Eventually, he interrupts their chorus. “…Can I get closer to you?”

You nod. “…Please.”

He closes the gap between you, carefully wrapping a strong arm around your curled shoulders. “You’ve got way more than a couple years. I promise you that.” Your tension begins to ease a bit as he clarifies. “You… you’ve helped me find a life that I actually feel like livin’ again, for the first time in a long time. And I want to experience it with you for as long as I can.”

“…Really?” Your voice sounds so small, so unsure, so… unlike you when you question him that he wants to kick himself in his own ass for the role he unintentionally played in making you feel this way.

“Yes. Really. I mean—” His voice takes on an edge of humor. “If you decide to set your sights on the year 3,000…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But as far as the 21st century is concerned? …I think I’d like to see it through. For as long as you’re there to see it with me.”

His words cause fresh tears to well up in your eyes, and you sniff in an attempt to hold them back. The sound catches his attention, and he leans forward, thumbing across your warm cheek. “…I’m makin’ you cry again…”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “No—No, it’s okay. It’s good. They’re… they’re good. It’s… relief.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh of his own. “Yeah?”

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

As you rest against each other, breathing in the cool night air, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Can we… lay back? For a bit?”

He squeezes your arm in gentle confirmation. “Of course.”

He twists and reaches back to straighten the wrinkled blanket beneath you, before laying out across it himself. The radio crackles as he turns the volume back up a bit. Watching him with tired eyes, you smile at the sight of him patting his chest in habitual invitation.

“Sit in and watch the sunlight fade. Honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late. There’s no plan. There’s no hand on the reign. As Mack explained, there will be darkness again.”

Curling up against his side and laying your head on his chest, you release a heavy sigh when his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. As his fingers press rhythmically into the tense muscle beneath them, you breathe in his scent. Black coffee and wildflower honey… he smells like home.

“Your secret is safe with me, and if secrets were like seeds, when I’m lyin’ under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made.”

You reach your hand out across his broad chest, slipping beneath his open flannel and sliding down to rest on his waist. He sighs, relaxing further beneath your touch.

“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. That’s how I know now that you understand.”

Yeah, you’ll take this over ‘luxury’ any damn day.

“There’s no plan. There’s no race to be run.”

Laying there with him, listening to the low hum of the radio, the moment grows so comfortable that you almost hesitate to break it.

“The harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song.”

“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.

His hand sweeps across your back before returning to your shoulder. “I’m here, Darlin’.”

“There’s no plan. There’s no kingdom to come.”

You smile. “I… I’d like to be there, to be here, to see it through with you, too.”

It takes him a moment to recall exactly what you’re referring to, but when it hits him he hums a low understanding tone, clearly pleased. “Then let’s see where it takes us, yeah?”

“But I’ll be your man if you got love to get done.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got plenty a’ time.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my extensive notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. My Sam & Darlin' Playlist My Sam Playlist My Darlin' Playlist My Sam & Darlin' Moodboard My Sam Moodboard My Darlin' Moodboard Header Image Credit: Gage Smith on Unsplash

[pastelaspirations]

Does ink has disorder of any kind?

I assume this is related to Ink in Perseverance lol. Okay, s o. I tend to write Ink with some tendencies that I have because it's easier to write more realistic depictions of things if I draw from my own life as inspiration lmao. As such, the only thing I am confident saying he has is social anxiety, as that is the only thing that I'm officially diagnosed with.

That said, I've seen people comment that he displays depressive tendencies, as well as having vivid flashbacks and tends to dissociate as what is sometimes typical of PTSD. Since I mostly write these things based off of personal experience, I am hesitant to say he has these things lol, especially since "mental health testing" doesn't exist in my world as much.

Does that mean he doesn't have them?? E e e e h h. Let's just say the only thing I am 100% sure in saying he has is social anxiety✧˖°.

[rainrot4me]

Return The Favor

Summary: Stumbling in on your neighbor’s chopped up body, an unlikely friendship forms between you and Toby. Striking a deal, you agree to help the killer and his friends, buying them necessary prescriptions. But when one visit turns to multiple, Toby becomes curious, finding a not so subtle love note hidden away.

Characters: Ticci Toby x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Mentions of death, explicit description of a dismembered body, decomposition, death, gore, obsession, vomit, throwing up, blood (non-sexual), blood (sexual), vaginal fingering, degradation, biting, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, vaginal, choking, gagging, somnophilia, rough, Toby literally goes insane about you, virginity kink, first time, desperation

Words: 9.4k

A/N: This shit long asl I'm so sorry... Characters in this story are not canonical!

It’s said that when there’s a dead body nearby, your body can sense it before your brain can. 

It’s almost like instinct, a survival nature programmed into your brain. It’ll start with goosebumps and chills running all over your body as if you were being watched, this uncomfortable sensation that you just can’t rationalize. Then the anxiety sets in, body aching and sweating for no apparent reason but it just knows there’s something wrong. 

Finally, when you’ve finally choked it up to just being your imagination, that’s when you’ll smell it. Throat instantly closing and nostrils flaring at the putrid stench of rot and gore. It’s incomparable, no amount of food poisoning or disease compares to the sickness you feel in your stomach at the smell of a human body decomposing. Every instinct in your body pleading and begging you to get out of there, run as far away until you can’t breathe anymore. 

You would know. And it seemed like the boy huddled in front of you did too. 

There was no real reason for you to even be in this house in the first place, but your all-too-good heart guilted you into it. You had just come home from work, mind tired and body sleepy as you unlocked your front door, tossing your bag onto the kitchen table inside. It was well past midnight, the diner you worked at closing way later than normal, but at least you made some good tips. 

Sliding into your bedroom, you changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your hair back before stepping into your kitchen. You gripped the tiny journal lying on the counter, cracking the worn pages open to where you left off, scribbling your thoughts onto the paper. It was your nightly routine, journaling things you saw or did, a coping mechanism suggested by your therapist. It wasn’t for anything intensive, just minor anxiety and self-image problems, always having negative thoughts about yourself. It helped. Glancing up, you looked through the tiny window above your sink, a clear view of your neighbor’s back porch, Mr. Higgs, an older man who made it very difficult to be friendly. He was a hateful guy, always nitpicking your choice of decorations or specific outfits he didn’t find appropriate. A real sweetheart, obviously. 

But compared to his usual eight PM lights out, the living room lamp was still bright, shining directly through his open back porch door. That was odd. As long as you had known this guy, it wasn’t like him to be up this late, let alone be outside. Every instinct told you to just clean up and go to bed, his angry ass probably scooting off a raccoon or something. But you just couldn’t pass up that nagging feeling, your kindheartedness overpowering you. So, sighing, you tossed a hoodie on and slid out your back door, stepping down the porch steps into the cool grass.

You flinched as a flash of brown passed your vision, small and thin against the dark grass. Cooing, you kneeled down, holding your fingers out as Mr. Higg’s old cat, Addy, sniffed the air around you, pressing against your bare legs as she purred. The man was way too protective of his cat. Something was definitely wrong.

Standing again, Addy pranced away, meowing loudly behind you as your bare feet became wet against the midnight dew, grass sticking to your ankles as you walked, arms hugging yourself against the cold. This would probably just end with you getting told to mind your business and stomping back to bed upset, but it was the thought that counted. Gripping onto the porch rail, you stepped up his creaky wooden porch, knocking against the wooden frame of the open door.

“Mr. Higgs? Everything alright?” You called into the room, refusing to go in. There was no response, you knocked again after a couple of seconds. Still nothing. You gulped, rubbing your arms against your sides, nerves wracking you. “Okay. I’m coming in. Don’t get mad 'cause you didn’t answer me.” You called again, pressing past the door and wiping your wet feet on the welcome mat. 

The house was quiet, the only light being the lamp sat on a coffee table adjacent to the old couch. All the furniture had an older look like something out of the eighties, it made you cringe. “Mr. Higgs, are you home?” You shouted down the dark hallway, all the doors shut except for one at the end which you assumed to be his room. Hugging yourself, your legs felt anxious, your mind racing with all the reasons you shouldn’t walk down there. There was no reason for it, this was all just probably some old guy who forgot to shut his door, but you just couldn’t shake the feeling.

Taking a step down the hallway, that’s when it started. Those feelings, like your body can feel shouldn’t be there. The air suddenly grew thick, a nauseating feeling setting in against your chest, pressing down like a conscious weight. But you shook it off, telling yourself it was just you scaring yourself with all of those crime shows, but you should’ve known better.

The door was cracked, moonlight from the open shades pressing against the doorframe, your hand flat against the wood as you pushed the door open. Then came the smell. It was stout, a putrid funk that wafted against the walls, souring the room. The room was dark, pupils blown wide as they fought to see, hand sliding against the wall and searching for a light switch. Your body was tense, senses on high alert against the dark, breathing ragged against the awful stench filling your senses. Your eyes were beginning to water, wondering what in the hell could be stinking this terribly, until you felt the switch, flipping it on.

Your first instinct was to throw up, throat constricting and stomach tightening, but you just couldn’t move. You were petrified by the scene in front of you. Mr. Higgs was there, at least, what you could recognize of him. His head had been cleaved from his body, intensive amounts of blood staining his beige bedsheets. His cheeks were bloated, a gnarly purple color as his veins poked against his forehead, skin wrinkled and soaked in blood as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. They were yellow now, dark veins contrasting against the orbs as puss leaked from every hole on his expressionless face. The rest of his body was scattered, chunks of muscle shredded from his arms and hands like they had been cut off, legs more or less the same. His wide stomach was completely visible, his skin swollen and dark, bloated against the same liquids spilling from his pores. The blood was the worst part. It was just everywhere. Splattered on the sheets, the nightstand, even the walls, specks reaching the roof. You were so lost in your racing thoughts, your heart pounding heavily against your chest as you gripped the door tightly, knuckles white on the frame. You could feel the cold sweat drip down your brow, utter fear chilling your body. 

You wouldn’t have even noticed the tall boy standing in the corner if he hadn’t flinched, eyes wide and locked on you. He was lanky, easily taller than you and pale. No, not pale, more gray. He had curly brown hair that fell in front of his eyes, his freckled cheeks flushed against the bandages across his jaw. A pair of goggles rested amongst his curls, a dark mask covering his nose and mouth. He wore dark wash jeans loose around his hips and a heavier brown hoodie that was stained with dark blood. Oh God. The boy didn’t look much older than you despite his bruise battered skin. But he wasn’t moving, wasn’t talking, he was just watching. 

His hands were behind his back, shoulders scrunched against the corner of the dark walls as you pressed back off the door frame, breathing ragged. “Who the hell are you?” You grimaced, tone coming across a lot more confident than you felt. The boy flinched, not out of fear, more like a bodily reaction. He refused to answer, eyes scanning around quickly until he pressed off the wall, sliding to the shuttered window and pinching the blinds open, scanning the night without explanation. That’s when you heard loud boots stepping up the porch steps, head spinning quickly down the hallway. “Shit.” You heard him, the boy’s voice panicked and rough, his boots stepping quickly across the hardwood and into your vicinity. Panic strained you, head spinning back quickly before your vision was filled with his arms wrapping around you, palm slapping over your mouth as he pressed you to his chest. 

You tried to fight back, mumbled pleas against his hand as you shouldered his arms, your back pressed firmly against him. He was dragging you into the room, your feet dragging as you struggled, clawing his arms away but he never budged, practically unaware of the scratches you were leaving on his hands. “F- Fuckin’ quit-” He growled quietly, pressing open the small closet doors and dragging you both in, quickly shutting the door as you heard the boots grow louder down the hallway. A sliver of light shone through the crack in the door, leaving you just enough room to see the gorey scene as you pressed off of him, his muscled arms refusing to let you go.

“Toby?” A scratchy voice called into the room, the figure stepping through the door frame and into your line of sight. At his appearance, you froze completely, your body tense against the boy behind you. His arms gripped tighter, bandaged fingers digging into your cheek as he kept you quiet. He was horrifying. 

This man was taller than the one in the closet with you, pasty skin a sharp contrast against his dark messy hair. His eyes were wide, pupils dark against his reddened scleras. He wore a white hoodie, dark jeans covered just the same with Mr. Higg’s blood. But the worst part, the part that made your heart pump in your throat, was his smile. It was etched in, flesh torn upwards into a mocked smile, teeth exposed from the side of his cheek. The area was mangled, seemingly unhealed as blood dried against the cut. He almost made Mr. Higgs seem not that bad.

“Twitch, come on,” He called again, hands shoved in his hoodie pocket as he strolled around the room, kicking Mr. Higg’s severed foot out of the way. “I’m gettin’ tired. This guy had some good beers and I’m tryna get back home and drink ‘em.” He snickered, turning back out of the room and back down the hallway, his loud boots stomping against the old floors. Who you presumed to be Toby didn’t let you go, arms just as tight around you as you gripping his hoodie’s sleeves tight. “Fine then! If you’re gonna play fuckin’ hide and seek then I’m leavin’ your ass here!” He called throughout the house, your body only untensing when you heard the back porch door slam shut, loud boots thunking down the porch and out of earshot. 

You both waited a couple of seconds, heart thudding in your ears as arms slowly released you, palm unclasping from your mouth. Panicked, you slammed out of the closet, turning around quickly and facing Toby, back pressed against the nearest wall as you searched for something to defend yourself with. “D- Dumbass.” He grit, pressing out of the cramped closet and facing you, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie. The stench of the room pressed harder than ever, making your head dizzy as you pressed out of the room and down the hallway, Toby quick on your heels. “Whoever the fuck you are, whatever the fuck you want, I’m sure Mr. Higgs didn’t have it. Why in God’s name is he in pieces in his bedroom?” You hissed, gagging as the image replayed in your mind, turning into his kitchen and wracking the cupboards. When you found a small plastic cup, you ran water in through the sink, chugging the stout liquid down as you calmed your breathing. Toby stayed in the doorframe, crossing his arms. You probably shouldn’t have let your guard down, knowing full and well what he had just down to your neighbor, but you figured if he was going to he would have already.

“It’s none of y- your business. I don’t k- kill innocents, so you s- shoulda just stayed home, m- missy.” He growled back, stuttering through the words. You tossed the cup in the sink, the plastic clattering against the metal as you turned to face him, running your hands through your hair. “Hard to when you guys so obviously left his door open. The bastards hounded me for years, you’d think I’d be happy about his death, but not fucking like that.” You hissed, leaning back against the counter and crossing your arms, bare feet cold against the porcelain tiles. “I mean, Jesus. And I mean, thanks and all for the save back there, but how is killing him and saving me any different? It’s just favoring one innocent over another.” Toby shook his head, sliding past you and tugging a drawer open, shovelling through old receipts until he found the stack he was searching for. He passed it to you, paper crinkling as you skimmed through, old pharmacy receipts for prescription medicine. 

“H- Had the old bastard bu- buying our meds. Paid h- him off and everything. Un- Until he started g- giving us coun- counterfeits, sellin’ u- us out. He h- had to pay u- up somehow…” He huffed, shoving his mask down off of his nose and under his chin, his thin lips chapped against the bandages hugging his cheeks. And of course, he was cute. 

“So he gets shredded?” You had to breathe through that sentence, throat tight with nausea. Toby nodded, a small smirk crooking at the corner of his lips. You grimaced, pressing off of the counter and through to the living room, the old furniture seeming a lot less homey now. You were going home, filing a police report, and praying to God these fuckers didn’t come back to get you instead. 

“U- Uh, might wa- wanna clean up, t- too,” Toby chuckled from behind you. You paused, confused as you looked around, stomach twisting as you looked down. Bloody footprints trekked through the kitchen behind you, a trail leading to your bare feet as you lift your knee, gagging at the sight of Mr. Higg’s blood coating your soles. Toby was laughing, the noise muffled against the ringing in your ears as you hunched over, stomach convulsing as you puked on the hardwood floors, your lunch from work coming back up. Head straining, you panted, wiping your lips. “Oh, s- shit, okay.” Toby hissed, sliding to your side and raising you up, hugging you close to his side. He drug you through the door, stomach still churning as you watched your footprints faintly appear beneath you, purposefully dragging them through the grass to get the blood off. You felt disgusting, giving no fight as Toby brought you to your porch steps, helping you up. He was so bipolar, angry and distasteful for one second, then cautious and endearing the next. It really was like you were dealing with a teenager. 

Addy circled your ankles, her dense fur tickling your skin and making you jump, Toby gripping your arms tighter. “Oh, hi kitty.” You cooed, breathing deep as you kneeled down, scooping her up into your arms as Toby helped you up the rest of the steps. Without asking, he slid open your screen door, helping you both inside as Addy purred against your chest, Toby wary as he stared at her. You dropped her on the floor gently, Toby sliding the door shut as you hunched over your sink, cleaning your mouth and grabbing a rag for your feet. Toby still eyed Addy, fidgeting his nails as he followed her. “Ever seen a cat before? She was Mr. Higg’s.” You chuckled, cleaning the soles of your feet off and tossing the rag into the sink, still feeling unclean. Toby nodded, rubbing his arms nervously as he looked back at you, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah. Us- Used to have one. T- They kinda sc- scare me now.” Smiling, you scooped Addy up again, petting her soft fur as you brought her close to the boy, his neck twitching nervously. 

How could this guy shred a man to pieces, but petting a cat was too frightening for him? You couldn’t understand. Digressing, you gripped his wrist, steadying the twitches as you placed his hand on her back, rubbing gently as Toby flinched, breathing quickly. Addy purred, unbothered by the action as he became more comfortable, fingers playing with her fur before he pulled his hand back, breathing deep.

You were too nice for your own good, too easy at giving the benefit of the doubt. Of course, you would find the redeemable traits in a murderer, heart hurting for this boy who was more or less the same as you. Groaning, you dropped Addy, crossing your arms. “Listen. What you did, it’s… For my own conscience, I can’t let it happen again.” You grit, circling your countertop and sitting on a stool, your journal tucked in front of you as you fidgeted with the pages. “If we can agree, I’ll buy your meds. I have a friend who can write me prescriptions, no questions asked. But I need you to understand, under no circumstances, are you allowed to harm me. I’ll call the cops.” Like the cops could stop these lunatics. But, you needed some type of leverage. 

Toby thought quietly, eyes narrowed as he flinched uncomfortably against Addy rubbing on his shins, purring loudly. If you could hold your end, there would be no trouble, but he had to know he could rely on you. “Th- The meds aren’t for m- me. My f- friends, they need ‘em to function, m- mentally… You g- gotta realize this is- is serious.” Even stuttering his voice was stern, arms crossed as he thought, contemplating. You nodded, brushing your hair from your face as you groaned, realizing how desperately you needed to learn to set boundaries. “I can get them. But you have to keep your end, too.” You hissed back, pinching your fingers nervously. Toby smiled, crossing his heart, literally. Rolling your eyes, you nodded, rubbing your face as you groaned. What the fuck were you even doing? 

“I’ll have them by the end of the week. Come later at night, cops’ll be swarming for weeks thanks to you.” Toby nodded, sliding over to the counter and gripping your journal, tearing a page out as he wrote the list of prescriptions you would need to get. It was a hefty list, some of that shit intense. “Abou- About that,” He slid his mask up over his nose, sliding the screen door open as he stepped out, chuckling. “Do- Don’t go outside. Gonna ma- make it look like a g- gas leak.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he shut the screen, sliding his hood over his head and peeling down the porch steps. Finally taking a deep breath, you stared at Addy, wondering what in the absolute fuck you were doing. Rest in hell, Mr. Higgs.

-

He made it look like a gas leak alright. The house was on fire in minutes, the bright orange flames lighting your room as you heard sirens in the distance, your other neighbors gathered outside their houses as you climbed into bed, groaning your displeasure. Cops and firefighters swarmed for days afterwards, investigating the area thoroughly, but never finding any remains of Mr. Higgs, his body buried somewhere far away. They eventually grew restless, the city quickly cleaned up the charred remains of the house and a new plan for construction was set in soon. It went over smoothly, no one even suspecting a thing. 

The days passed slowly, nervousness building as the end of the week grew closer, feet shuffling as you stood in line at the pharmacy. You got the doctor’s notes easily, already called in and waiting to be picked up as you were handed a small paper bag, the pharmacist eyeing you closely as you hurried out. Once in your car, you rummaged the sack, eyes wide as you read the dosage instructions on each little pill bottle. You read each bottle carefully, cringing at the names of the contents: Thorazine, Prolixin, Haldol, and even Aripiprazole. They were all high-end antipsychotics, the list of treatments for schizophrenia and mania, along with treatment-resistant depression. The last bottle caught your eye, a quick Google search told you it was for tourette's. So his twitching wasn’t just nervousness, huh. Shoveling the sack into your bag, you sped home, Toby well on his way as the sun set low.

The first week was easy, Toby in and out without so much as a hello, nodding his thanks as he bolted back into the woods, eyes dark and heavy. It was easy for you, moving along with your life despite the one night of the week. You felt easier, the boy quick about his stops with some chat, but never hanging around for too long, eyes always scanning the tree line nervously. 

As weeks passed, he grew more comfortable, you learned that he was quick about stopping due to his friends, their curiosity about you making him nervous about losing his ‘dealer.’ You learned to leave his meds on the counter, sometimes not even present when he would sneak in at the late hours of the night, your job taking precedence over your sleep schedule. But with all of this money being spent weekly on medicine, you had to pick up more time at work, everything being paid for out of pocket not to raise suspicion. You were sleeping more, journaling and your hobbies taking less importance until they were practically nonexistent. It was hard, your serving heart refusing to let you rest, making sure Toby got his medication is the most important thing. You were strained, to say the least. 

However, surprisingly, after a couple of weeks, Toby wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He had slid in like he always did, you sat at the counter eating your dinner as you scribbled through the pages of your notebook, summing up the previous days. You were exhausted, Toby making you jump slightly as he shut the screen door, rummaging through the paper sack. “G- Got any more?” He grinned shyly, sliding his mask and goggles off and tossing them onto the counter. You nodded to the fridge, an extra container of leftovers from the diner quickly opened in front of him as he shoveled it into his mouth. “It’s better heated up,” You laughed, shutting your journal as you slid off the stool, gripping the to-go container from him and popping it into the microwave. You both sat there awkwardly, Toby kneeling down to rub Addy’s back as she appeared beneath him, soft purrs echoing. He was still nervous, never petting her for too long before standing back up, the microwave beeping. The food came out steaming, sliding open a drawer and handing him a fork, Toby continued to shovel the food into his mouth. You hissed, holding his arm as the steaming food sizzled inside his mouth, it had to be burning him. “Oh. Y- Yeah, I don’t fe- feel pain. Th’s good, tho- though.” He grinned, slurping up more of the food. He acted like he hadn’t had warm food in forever, stuffing his face and barely giving himself time to chew. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he ate.

The stays became longer after that, his excuse being he was hungry, continuously raiding your fridge until you began to have food ready for him, prepping his meals along with your own. Thirty minutes turned to an hour, to two hours, and then eventually through the night. He would crash on your couch, Addy curled in his lap as the television blared some old movie. That was one of the only times you didn’t see him ticcing, the cat acting as an anchor against his restless body. He looked truly comfortable, using your blankets and pillows to his advantage, beginning to invite himself to stay the night after a while. 

You sat at the counter, Toby snoring loudly as he laid face first into the couch pillow, scribbling into your journal. It was the one thing you had time for, having to get up early for work as the soft glow of the kitchen light lit the pages. Toby was practically pushing himself into your life, his lack of manners and curious mannerisms leading him to take initiative. You were grateful for his friendliness, giving great detail of his missions with his friends and explaining that whole situation. Even still, you were wary. 

But against your better judgment, your relationship with the killer was becoming less transactional. He brought you things to make for dinner, talked with you through your mutual sleepiness, and even took care of Addy when you were too delusional after work. For lack of a better word, he was becoming a friend, showing up for more than just his medication, even sometimes forgetting the bag and having to chase him down. He was infesting your life, arriving earlier than he should and leaving later than you cared for. The end of the week was becoming optional, the screen of your porch door sliding open nearly every night of the week Toby didn’t have a mission. It was annoying but in a comforting way, like you both were becoming closer naturally despite your differences. 

As you heard his snores, you groaned, rubbing your tired eyes as you began to write, letting your pencil guide on the page numbly as you wrote your thoughts. It wasn’t directed at Toby on purpose, but the further you got down the page the further your heart sank, hand fisted in your hair as you rested your elbow on the cold marble counter. “Ah, Jesus…” You grit, scribbling the final few words as you lean back, rubbing your head. The words weren’t lies, more of a hard truth you weren’t willing to accept, chalking it up that you were just tired and desperate. The words could have been about Toby, or they could have been about anyone, you didn’t really care. Sighing, you tore the page out, folding it and shoving it into the back of the book, closing the pages quickly. Sleep sounded much easier as you flipped the kitchen light off, turning the volume of the television down as you trudged upstairs to your room, giving one last glance to the snoring boy and his matching cat.

-

Toby knew his mishaps with you, his moral compass long forgotten the more time he spent inside your home. He told himself it was just easier, food and shelter at his disposal whenever, but he knew better. It was so much more than just picking up medicine for Tim and Brian now, it was a solid relationship, a bond that was forming in his eyes. 

It had been almost four months since the unfortunate death of your neighbor, a smile creeping every time he saw the charred flecks of wood buried in the overgrown grass. You had begun to leave the back door unlocked, reasoning that someone breaking and entering would be less of a hassle than him. That was what Toby really hooked onto the most about you, your humor about everything. Despite your hardships and the emotions you had to overcome, you held a caring heart, compassion always lacing every action. He found it admirable, your humor through your busy life. And, likewise, he did feel bad for making you work so much, tired eyes always hurting his heart whenever you were around. But, it wasn’t like he could get a job, so he helped where he could, cleaning and learning to cook for your sake. He needed this medicine, for his friend’s and his own stability, even at your expense.

You were already nestled at your spot on the counter, writing your thoughts in that damn journal. You barely even looked up as he entered, diving for the fridge as he scooped up Addy with one arm, her purs a nice vibration against his shoulder. Popping the container in the microwave, he leaned in over your shoulder, trying to catch a glance at your scribbling before you shoved him off, closing the book quickly. “Ah, ah, mind yours.” You smiled, forking your own food into your mouth. “O- Oh come on, [Y/N], just a pe- peak.” He smiled back, gathering his food as he began to eat, sliding onto his familiar spot on the couch. It was routine now: where you sat, what he watched, what you both talked about. He explained his latest mission with Masky in more detail than you enjoyed, pushing your food away as you groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You both laughed throughout the night before you whisked your food into the fridge, calling your goodnights before heading upstairs. 

Toby continued to watch the television, brushing Addy’s back with his bandaged fingers as he sat his empty container to the side. His curiosity nudging him, he raised up, tossing his trash before he slid to the counter, you all too confidently leaving your journal there. Slipping back onto the couch, he began to flip through the pages, listening closely for your footsteps as he read your entries, smiling as they dated all the way back to your high school years.

It seemed as though everything you thought spilt onto these lines, emotions erratic between every page as he realized just how much of a people pleaser you really were. All through your recent years, it was nothing but service, acting through the goodness of your soul until it felt sickening, fake almost. He cringed, flipping quickly through but finding nothing juicy, no deep dark secrets that he felt were interesting. Sighing, he closed the journal, standing to set it back onto the counter, until a slip of paper fell from between the pages. Smiling, Toby leaned down, arms twitching as he slid the journal back onto the counter, leaning against the marble as he flipped the paper open, reading carefully.

“Sometimes, when I think about it too hard, I get all emotional about myself. I know I put on a front, like everything I do I’m in charge of and can handle, always putting everyone around me first. But what if I wanted to be put first? I do so much for the sake of others but it never seems to be returned, never compensated for the mental strain. Well, maybe I want to. Maybe I want to be loved like I see others, rough and real. I have no clue how I even would, I can barely handle touching myself before I'm overwhelmed. But I just want someone else to take the reins, show me that I don't have to work my brain so hard and can just numb out. That's not too much to ask, right? Just someone who can love me, not some creep or one night thing, someone who cares. If I never ask for anything again, that would be it. Someone who wants me for me.”

He could have died. The brunette’s cheeks dark as he re-read the crumbled page, excitement coursing through him. In his mind, he wanted to storm upstairs and just rattle you then, showing you how good he could treat you. It was like a bomb had gone off, Toby having to pretend like him having a crush on you wasn’t achingly obvious, convincing himself he just didn’t know how to act around women. But now it was clear, his mind racing with a million wants and needs, body spasming under the excitement. 

Convincing himself to leave, he slipped the note into his pocket, body buzzing with excitement as he slid out your door. He would be back, like always. But this time, he would show you what you truly needed, what only he could give you. 

-

Like always, Toby left a note for the medication you needed to pick up, it sometimes changing week to week. Everything looked normal, the usual combination of pills reading off. But as you scanned the bottom, you groaned, shoving the paper into your pocket. Trilafon, Saphris, and… Plan B. As if your desperation for some affection couldn’t have gotten much worse, your heart twisted, a lump growing. Whether it be for some girl he was laying or a girlfriend he already had, you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get the medicine and go. Crawling into your bed sounded like a much more exciting activity than dwelling on the brunette, heart saddened in all the way you knew it shouldn’t. 

To make your night even better, Toby didn’t show. It wasn’t unusual, for him sometimes not to show up for days due to extensive missions. But a part of you longed to see him, especially after today, just to help your mind with the whole morning-after pill situation. So now, instead of imagining him surrounded by his friends on a mission, you imagined him towering over a girl. Strong arms holding her, body contorting to fit against hers… You could’ve been sick, shaking your head as you ate quickly and pressed upstairs, barely petting Addy before you slinked into bed, hauling the covers over your head. 

It was lonely on nights without his presence in your house. But especially tonight, thoughts racing uncontrollably to the point of tears, thick droplets streaking down your face as your chest hurt, longing for a body, any body, to hold close to yours. Maybe you really were just a transactional thing. 

-

Toby smiled as he trekked through the familiar stretch of woods to your house, heart racing in his chest. He had it all planned out, exactly what he wanted to do, his cock already twitching in his jeans. 

He hadn’t shown up tonight on purpose, hanging back at the mansion to take the best shower he could, Ben teasing him about how good he smelled as he was leaving. You had to be well in bed by now, body tired after working all day just for him. He would take care of you, showing just how grateful he was for how much you were giving up just for his friends and him. Pressing past the tree line, he smiled, pulling his hood down as all the lights in your home were out, signaling your retirement. 

Pressing up the steps, he slid the screen door open quietly, careful not to alert you as he clicked it shut. Stripping his hoodie, he tossed it onto the couch, Addy purring light against the cushions. It was warm in your house, black t-shirt hugging his arms as he untucked it from his jeans, climbing up the steps, his mask and goggles quick to come off next. 

He was too excited for his own good, boots stepping quietly against the old hardwood as he slinked to your door, fidgeting with the knob. A rush of your scent blew into his face, your perfume stout in your small bedroom, eyes searching around in the dark space for your bed. It wasn’t hard with your breathing, quiet snores making him smile as he leaned against your mattress, admiring your unawareness. You looked so peaceful, his bandaged fingers tracing your cheeks and brushing your hair from your face, your skin flinching under his touch. “Hi, baby…” He whispered, the pet name sounding right against his tongue as he referred to you, tugging the sheets down. 

Toby always knew how nice of a body you had, you sometimes sauntering around the house with shorts and a t-shirt and making his eyes trail just a little longer than normal. But now, under his cold hands, you were even more gorgeous. You were wearing an oversized shirt, a slight tug at the fabric revealing that you only had panties on underneath, you slightly stirring as his nails brushed your skin. The brunette was excitedly jittering, kicking his boots off as he climbed onto the bed, kneeling at your curled body sound asleep. You shifted, rolling onto your back as you breathed deep, stretching your arms before settling back into yourself. Toby could have died, your legs stretching out to rest around him, his cock twitching with interest against your now visible panties. A quiet sigh breathed through your lips.

That was all the invitation he needed. Running his cold hands under your shirt, he felt your warm skin and goosebumps rising as you squirmed under them. Your brows scrunched but Toby pressed further, running his fingers along your waist and up to your tits, palming the mounds gently as he smiled. It was crazy to him just how soft your skin was, not weathered or bruised from missions or nature, perfectly smooth under his axe-calloused hands. Pushing your shirt up to your chest, he gasped at your round tits, the weight so perfect in his hands as he pinched at your nipples, rubbing the nubs gently. Toby was never very sure of anything, always brushing through life at the command of others. But the one thing he was sure about? His love for boobs, especially yours. 

Nudging closer between your legs, he rested your knees on his thighs, leaning down to your chest as he popped a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently. The nub was hard against his tongue, slowly circling as he massaged the opposite one in his palm, pinching your nipple gently. That’s when you began to stir, hands sliding against the bed and unconsciously searching for the cause of your sensitivity. Lazy hands pushed against his face, soft groans echoing in the boy’s ears as he popped off your nipple and moved to the next one. Your hands fingered through his hair, tugging lightly until your eyes were beginning to flutter, your mind slowly coming alive. Toby let off your tit, kissing along your chest and licking a stripe between your tits, humming as he watched your eyes slowly blink open, confusion rocking you. He kneaded your tits gently, tugging at your nipples as you realized what was happening, eyes slowly widening as you strained to sit up against him. “Toby? Wha-” Your voice was scratchy, ridden with exhaustion as the brunette kissed up your neck to your cheeks, pushing you back down as he slotted himself flush between your legs. Slowly realizing what was happening, your cheeks flushed dark, hands pressing against his chest as you squirmed, nervously babbling as your body was still half asleep. “Lay b- back, baby… You’re so ti- tired, let me take c- care of you…” Toby sighed, running his hands back down along your skin, relishing in the way your body nervously shook under him.

You physically could not believe what was happening. This had to be a dream, some sick trick your mind was playing as you felt cold fingers hook under your panties, sliding them down. Heavy eyes wide, you grabbed his arms, clenching your thighs together against his waist. “No- No, wait- I don’t even, I mean, I’ve never-” Toby was already shushing you, gripping your wrists together and kissing your palms before pushing them back down to your sides, resuming his tug down your thighs. “I’ve go- got you. Don- Don’t gotta worry about a- a thing…” He smiled, raising your legs up to slide your panties down the rest of the way, hooking them off of your raised ankles before pulling you down closer to him, pushing your shirt over your head. “Read y- your journal, you don- don't gotta act protective, ba- baby. I know this is what y- you want…” If you weren’t already panicking, you definitely were now. 

You wanted to hound him for snooping through your journal, mouth opening to tell him off. But as his fingers brushed against the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your folds, you lost all train of thought. He was watching you, eyes excited in the darkness of your room as he swiped his thumb closer again, your thighs flinching shut. “Anyone else e- ever touched here before?” He mumbled, pressing his thumb against your plump lips and tugging them open, getting a nice look at the wetness that was already forming between your folds. Shaking your head, Toby lit up, cock pushing hard against his jeans as he had to adjust his position, using both hands to pull your lips apart, sighing at how pretty your cunt was. Just something about knowing that Toby was claiming his stake on you, imprinting his touch for the first time before anyone else could, made something deep inside of him burn. It wasn’t like the brunette got much play himself, hooking up with a girl here and there, but being your first? That already made this so much better than any other girl could even try. 

Sliding his fingers through your wetness, you gasped, hands clutching the pillow behind your head as he groaned, spreading your arousal across your lower abdomen. You whined, thighs begging to clench together as he purposefully slid your juices over your cunt, pressing his thumb down against your swollen clit and jolting your back off the mattress. You had only ever masturbated here and there, your body getting too overwhelmed after one orgasm and forcing you to stop, but would Toby stop? As he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them into his mouth, you doubted his restraint.

“Please be gentle…” You warned, hands planting on the mattress as you sat up, resting on your elbows as you watched Toby bring his digits back down to your cunt. He rolled his eyes playfully, tugging your folds open with his opposite hand as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your entrance, pressing in slowly. “I’ll try…” He laughed, your fingers gripping the sheets tight as you watched his fingers sink in slow, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. His index and middle fingers screwed into your tight walls gently, twisting his wrist to draw a moan from your lips, digits spreading against your gummy walls and making your entrance ache. “Just i- imagine my dick in here…” He cooed, eyes darting between your nervous face and your pretty cunt fluttering around just his fingers, barely even handling them. 

Pressing his opposite thumb against your clit, he began to rub in small circles, dragging your hips further and further off of the mattress until you were practically rolling your hips against him. His fingers probed in and out of your cunt at a slow pace, just enough to make you comfortable with the unfamiliar intrusion, but his arms ached to go faster, curl his fingers until you spasmed. “Toby…” You sighed, his hands moving in time with other as he screwed his fingers inside of you, angling them just enough so they pressed against your tight walls. His name sounded like heaven against your aroused tongue, so quiet but so desperate, secretly drawling for more. “Tell me w- what you want, ba- baby…” The pet name made your face hot, your stomach fluttering as you pressed back into the pillows, running your hands down to your thighs and squeezing the flesh. “I want… more…” You sighed through your arousal, cunt clenching desperately around Toby’s cold fingers, sucking them back inside every time he drew them out. The brunette laughed, pushing his feet under him to push his hips up against your ass, your hips raising off the bed as he fingered down into you. You could feel his cock straining behind his jeans below your raised ass, twitching needily with every tug of his fingers and moan that whined from your throat. His size was overwhelming, making your heart pound as Toby began to curl his fingers, making your eyes shut quickly. 

His fingers pressed so deep in your cunt, curling against your sensitive walls and making your jaw hang, beginning to press against your walls at a steady rhythm. It was like a new fire had lit under Toby, fingers screwing in at a quicker pace and making your stomach clench, face screwing into an overwhelmed feeling. His fingers pumped in, knuckles sinking in through your wetness and gripped by your gummy walls, curling his fingertips just right as he got deep. It was so intense, so rough, just a mess of slick and your wet cunt sounding through the room with every squelch as he abused your clit, swiping left and right quickly. Your thighs twitched and ached with every curl, trying to close around his hand practically fucking you into sensitivity. Your hands wrapped around his forearm quickly, begging his wrists to stop curling abusively inside of you as you tugged your nails into his skin. Toby wouldn’t, continuing to pump his fingers as he stared at your flushed face, cunt squelching embarrassingly loud. “Just a l- little more… Co- Come on…” He groaned, nudging his hips against your bare ass as his fingers milked moans and whines out of you, his fingers glistening with your arousal every time he tugged them out. He couldn’t feel you clawing at his arms, loud groans begging him to let up as your cunt clenched, molding around his thick fingers. 

You could feel your orgasm rolling through you, Toby huffing as the veins in his arms popped, his shoulder muscles straining against his shirt as he watched your face carefully, picking up as your moans became louder. “Gonna come f- for me? Yeah?” He teased, clothed cock twitching against your ass, pushing your cheeks apart as he rutted against you. He curled his fingers quicker, mumbling his arousal as he watched your cunt swell around him, clit throbbing under his thumb. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, stomach tightening and forcing you to sit up, Toby was quick to let off your clit and wrap his arm around your back, holding you up as he pumped your through your cunt squelching, tightening around his digits. Your eyes rolled, teeth grit tight as he palmed your clit, slowing his pace to a slow thrust as you became undone against him. No orgasm of your own had ever compared to that, head light and chest heavy as you breathed quickly, gripping Toby’s shirt tight. 

Refusing to let you go, Toby leaned in, pressing kisses against your neck and licking at your sweat, relishing in the warmth around his digits. You whined, cunt sensitive as he tugged his fingers out, his skin raw and pruned against the wetness coating his digits. Your folds were absolutely drenched, Toby spreading his fingers through your lips and pushing his sopping fingers over your warm thighs wrapped around him. “God, y- you’re so wet-” He gasped, pressing his fingertips back against your clit as he laid you back, gripping your tit. Your mind panicked, cunt flashing with sensitivity as he began to rub against your clit, swiping left and right against the rub quickly. “Toby- Stop- Toby, please-” You cried, breath catching in your throat as your stomach clenched, his fingers pressing hard as he pinched your nipples, eyes trained on your wet pussy. “You e- ever squirt before?” He smiled, transitioning fast between digging his fingers into your cunt and pulling them back out to swipe against your clit. It was nauseating, cunt crying desperately for relief as he dug nails into your tits. Gasping loudly, you gripped his arms, knees screwing tight against his sides as you cried out, hips bucking up against his hands. 

Every time his fingers slipped into your entrance, they squelched loudly, fluttering around the intrusion before desperately aching as they tugged out and moved onto your clit. “Squirt li- like a whore, m- mkay? Quit fightin’.” He hissed, letting his hand off your tit and scooping under your left knee, pushing it back to open your cunt wider, spreading your legs further apart. Your head was dizzy, heart pounding as you gasped for air, panting at every push of his fingers. You were already quick to cumming, but it felt weird, not that normal clench you felt in your stomach, more of a strain against your cunt itself. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as he forced your pussy against his will, ruining you. 

As he swiped his fingertips down hard against your clit, your entrance clenched, mouth opening wide as you cried out, hips bucking up as you felt your cunt squirt, thighs trembling hard. There was literally nothing to compare it to, mind hazy as you sprayed onto his black shirt, his fingers digging into your entrance and pushing more juices out of your swollen folds. Toby was smiling, moaning his approval as he rubbed your clit softly, pushing the last of your orgasm out as you strained against the mattress. “Gunna fu- fuck you dumb, baby…” He growled, tugging the soaked shirt over his head and tossing it as he unzipped his jeans, tugging them down and off his legs as his cock hung heavy against your drenched cunt. You couldn’t even react, head spinning as Toby gripped your hips, pushing you onto your side as he grabbed your ankle, pulling it onto his shoulder and straddling your other. 

Neck craning with excitement, he teased the tip of his swollen cock between your folds, slicking himself up with your ruined juices. “This is wh- what you wanted, is- isn’t it?” He smiled wildly, pressing his cock into your ruined cunt, groaning loudly as you swallowed him in, warmth gripping tight as he gripped your leg, other hand stable on your tit. You groaned, face turned into the pillow as he began to thrust deep, giving you no mercy as he tugged at your nipple, biting at your calf as he fucked into you. You felt so full, your body so exhausted already as stretched you further, your entrance burning against the sting of this new girth. You squeezed him so tight, cock forcing itself deeper with every tug of his hips as you began to cry, tears staining your pillowcase.

“Fuckin’ tal- alk to me, baby. Gunna mak- make me cum al- already.” He sighed, teeth chewing against the meat of your calf as he pressed your cunt wider, sweat dripping from his nose as his curls clung to his forehead. He let off your tit, left hand slinking up to grip your jaw and turn your face back to look at him, your eyes heavy as they blurred with tears. Toby looked so good right now, cheeks dark against his freckles as he towered above you, cock pushing against your gummy walls and making your mouth hang. “So pretty…” He smiled, slinking his hand down to your throat and squeezing, cock pulsing as your face tightened, mouth gasping out as he clamped tighter, refusing you air. There was something so orgasmic about cutting your airway, watching your body react as he fucked your virgin cunt, holding your life in his hands. He had to breathe deep to stop himself from cumming, his violent brain spasming out. 

He pushed your ankle over his head, pulling out roughly as he rolled you onto your stomach, you gasping from the wave of air hitting your lungs. Pushing himself against your ass, Toby swore, pushing his cock back into your cunt as he pushed your back down, making you arch against him. “Just a l- little more, m’kay?” He growled, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and squeezing hard, pressing your face down into the pillow. With a new pace, he fucked down into you wildly, hand kneading your ass hard as digging his nails into your skin, little welts forming across the soft flesh. Your muffled cries sounded against the pillow, head light and static filled as you gasped for air, Toby’s cock ramming down against your g-spot. “Never s- seen a bitch so willing, so des- desperate for my dick you’d gi- give it up so easily.” He teased, growling as he let off your neck, neck sore as he leaned down, pushing your hair off your neck. Toby hadn’t felt like this before, wanting to mark you, fucking you so desperately he wanted to carve his shape deep inside. He couldn’t let you go without knowing exactly who you craved, corrupting you, ruining you, molding you to fit only him. 

He licked against your shoulder, sucking onto the skin before he pressed his teeth, digging both hands into your hips as he sunk them in, groaning at the pop as your blood soaked his teeth. You were crying, screaming into the pillow as your entire body begged for him, craving him, mind going blank as your blood dripped from his chin as he licked at the wound. He pressed on, nibbling into the crook of your neck and sucking revolting hickies into your skin, marking you like an animal. “Wan- Want you to come on m- my cock, baby. I got- gotta fill you full, want y- you ruined for everyone b- but me.” He mumbled quickly, cock begging to spill inside of your warm cunt as you reached around, gripping his hair as he sunk his teeth in again, walls fluttering around him. You pulled his hair, dragging his mouth off of your neck and to your lips, smashing your swollen, tear-stained lips against his as he groaned, kissing you roughly. 

You were cumming again, back arching onto Toby’s cock as you moaned into his mouth, walls holding him tight inside. He tried to move, to continue thrusting, but you were so tight all he could do was rutt his hips, begging for friction as his own seed spilt, his brows screwing tight as he came deep inside of you, warm cum seeping deep into your cunt. Your mind was blank, eyes rolled as you cried into his grasp, his nails digging into your hips until you were nearly bleeding. Your cunt squelched, milking his cock as he finally pulled from your lips, letting the last of your orgasms fizzle out before he pushed off of you, slowly tugging himself out as you whined. Looking back, his cock was soaked, glistening with your arousal and streaks of blood, Toby’s eyes wide. “Ah… Yo- You tore…” He hissed, wiping his soft cock with his shirt before pulling his boxers on, quickly trotting out of your room. You dropped your head back onto the pillow, cunt aching and body ruined as you sat in your sweat and each other’s cum, mind tired as you slowly blinked. 

Toby was back in seconds, a water bottle, a wet rag, and a small bag all in tow as he climbed back onto the bed, flipping your lazy body onto your back. You smiled, sipping the water bottle slowly as he began to clean you up, gently running the warm rag between your folds and against your thighs until he was satisfied, gently rubbing your skin. Finally, he grabbed the bag, your confusion evident as he tugged out the prescription bag, rummaging for the plan b he made you buy and popping one of the pills out, handing it to you as he smiled. Your chest welled, previous anxiety dissipating until you began to tear up, taking the small pill before reaching to wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down next to you. Toby went easily, body cradling against yours as he kissed against the bruised spots on your neck, rubbing your bite mark gently.

As you began to doze, Toby mumbled something about your note, your mind too dizzy to hear the rest. The last thing you saw was a subtle flash behind your eyelids, sleep overtaking you as Toby held you close.

-

Morning came quickly, your body stirring, reaching for Toby but finding the bed empty. Confused, you sat up, eyes heavy and head still pounding but you pressed off the bed anyway, searching for the boy. Downstairs, on the countertop, laid his hoodie neatly folded, with a small piece of paper resting on top. Sauntering over, you reached for the top, sliding it over your head, it falling before your hips as you gripped the paper, reading its contents.

On a mission. Be back later tonight. Meanwhile, enjoy ;)

Flipping the paper over, you gasped, slapping your hand over your mouth. A small picture was taped to the back, a polaroid-type photo of the two of you cradled together, your bare body pressed against his, bruises and sweat on full display. Smiling, you tucked it into his pocket, breathing the scent of his hoodie deep as Addy circled your ankles, begging for breakfast. 

Staring out your back porch door, you made sure it was unlocked, always open for him. Killer or not, that boy was yours now, accepting his every mishap the same way he did yours. For the first time in a long time, you felt wanted. 

Rest in Hell, Mr. Higgs.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[1lovewony]

Escape the Spotlight (Hanni of Newjeans)

Hanni x Male Reader (Y/N) Word Count: 1841 words Summary: Y/N fucks Hanni after her birthday, oh also this is canon so sum issues about them rn.

The soft hum of the city filtered through the dorm’s open window, carried by the cool evening breeze. Hanni had left it cracked just enough for the noise to feel distant, like a reminder of the world outside, one she was eager to escape from tonight. She leaned against the desk in her small, cozy dorm, her phone loosely grasped in her hand as she reread the last message she sent.

“Hey, come over. I need a distraction.”

Simple, direct, and maybe a little too forward, but she was tired of holding back. Her birthday was supposed to be a time to celebrate, but all it had been was a whirlwind of interviews, scheduled social media posts, and the pressures that came with being under the spotlight as an idol. For once, she wanted to forget about the cameras and scripts and just be herself.

The only person who could assist her in doing that was Y/N.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, but the minutes dragged as she waited. Her heart pounded in her chest, anticipation creeping up her spine. It wasn’t often that she invited someone into her private space like this, but Y/N was different. There was something about him that made her feel... safe. She didn’t need to put up her walls or play a part when he was around.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. His message was brief:

“On my way. Be there soon.”

Hanni exhaled, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She pushed herself away from the desk, pacing a bit to calm her nerves. She had no idea what tonight would lead to, but she knew she wanted it to be far from the reality she lived in every day. No cameras, no judgment, just her and Y/N.

As she moved around the room, she glanced at herself in the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her reflection showed a different side of her—Hanni Pham, the idol, was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she was just Hanni, in a simple oversized hoodie and comfortable shorts, her dark hair tied up messily. She was free from the usual layers of makeup and the high-maintenance outfits, and for once, she liked it. It was the real her. She wished more people would see, but they didn’t.

She rubbed her arms absentmindedly, feeling the familiar anxiety settle in. Being an idol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. The expectations, the scrutiny, the never-ending demand to be perfect—it was exhausting. And as much as she loved her fans, sometimes she just needed a break.

Tonight, she hoped Y/N would be that break.

The knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. She moved quickly, her pulse quickening. Pulling the door open, she was met with the sight of Y/N standing there, looking a bit out of breath but with that familiar smile that always made her feel at ease.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and slightly teasing. “Didn’t keep you waiting too long, did I? ”

Hanni shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “No, you’re just in time.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and for a moment, there was an awkward pause as they stood there. The tension between them was subtle but palpable. They’d known each other for a while, but tonight felt different. Something was hanging in the air, something unspoken, and neither of them seemed ready to address it—at least not yet.

Y/N took in the room, noticing the faint scent of lavender that lingered, the warm glow of the dim light she’d set up, and the slight mess that hinted at her life outside of the polished image people saw on stage. It was intimate and personal.

“You look... comfortable,” he remarked, his eyes tracing over her figure, not in a way that made her self-conscious but in a way that made her feel seen. Really seen.

She smiled, playing with the hem of her hoodie. “It’s my birthday. I wanted to be comfortable.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to spend it... with me? ”

She shrugged, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to spend it alone.”

That admission hung in the air, and Y/N seemed to understand. Without saying a word, he stepped closer, his presence immediately grounding her. He wasn’t there to judge or to expect anything from her. He was just... there. And that was what she needed most.

They moved to sit on the floor, leaning against the foot of her bed. The conversation flowed easily at first—catching up, joking around, talking about things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. But as the minutes passed, Hanni found herself opening up more, telling him about the things she didn’t usually share with others.

“It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “The whole idol thing... it’s not as glamorous as people think.”

Y/N listened intently, his gaze never leaving her face. He nodded, not interrupting, just letting her speak.

“I just... I want to be myself, you know? ”She laughed bitterly. “But sometimes, I don’t even know who that is anymore.”

There was a silence, heavy but not uncomfortable. Y/N reached out, gently taking her hand in his. It was a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth through her that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“You’re Hanni,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “That’s enough.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. It was such a simple statement, but it meant everything to her at that moment. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel the need to put on a mask. She could just be... her.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, her lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It was soft, almost hesitant, as if she were testing the waters. But when Y/N kissed her back, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, something inside her clicked.

This was what she’d been missing. This connection, this intimacy. The world outside didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was him and the way he made her feel like she was enough, just as she was.

The kiss deepened, growing more urgent as the tension between them finally broke. Hanni’s hands slid up his chest, pulling him closer as their breaths mingled, the room around them fading into the background. All of her worries, her stress, her insecurities—they melted away in his embrace.

As they pulled apart, breathless, Hanni rested her forehead against his, her fingers still tangled in his shirt. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “For being here.”

Y/N smiled, his hand resting on her waist, grounding her. “Always." Y/N removes his shirt with a quick motion, leaving Hanni with a desired look. Hanni instantly kisses Y/N with more passion, as if she were dehydrated for lust. Both of them moan as their mouths explore each other. After an intense makeover, Hanni grabbed her shorts and tossed them to the side. Y/N then put his hands over her thighs; Hanni’s already wet from the sloppy kisses they had. Y/N rubbed his hands on her pants, making circles on Hanni’s clitoral area. Instinctively Hanni moans under his mouth. “Ugh, yes, make me cum Y/N.Hannah is reaching her limit; she holds on with the kiss and moans louder and louder with every hand movement of Y/N. “I am going to cum, Y/N, I am going to cu... ughh.” She reached her orgasm, slowly fading to Y/N's body as she loses her energy. They looked at each other with a smile. “I want you on me, Y/N.” Without wasting any time, Y/N removed his pants, greeting Hanni with a bulge in his boxers. Hanni’s face was flustered by the view. She was smiling and grinning. “Wow.” leaves from her mouth. Instantly she moves onto his boxers and removes slowly while looking at Y/N eyes. Y/N cock flew from his boxer and hit Hanni’s face. Both laughed, but then Hanni swallowed the rod in her face. “Oh Hanni.”

She bobbed her head up and down, swallowing inch by inch of Y/N cock. She is making slurping sounds, moaning while taking what’s her. She continued the blowjob, occasionally changing the pace. “I am getting close.” When she hears this, she increases the pace like she's racing a deadline. She speeds her bobbing, galloping every inch of Y/N cock, and after a minute Y/N shoots his hot semen in her mouth. She swallows all of his cum, even licking the ones that overflow from her mouth. Hanni then stands over Y/N, removing her hoodie, showing her cute boobs to him, and playing with her nipples—that’s already hard.

Hanni slowly lowers her body to Y/N, aligning her opening to him. She kept eye contact with him, having conversations with their eyes and being playful with it. His cock entered the heavens when Hanni finally let him come in, breaking the silence with a moan from both of them. She adjusted as the tip was entering. It is not their first time, yet she's still tight as ever. Y/N groaned from the feeling of his cock entering Hanni’s pussy. As she lowered her body more, it also adjusted with Y/N's size; after all,  7 inches isn’t that easy to penetrate.

Hanni gives up and lowers her entire body to him, leaving her to lose control of her body and slams to Y/N, but luckily he catches her and at the same time kisses her on the lips, creating another makeup session. She slowly moves her hips and starts her ride. “Oh, god, your cock feels so good on me,” she blurts from her mouth.

Just like the blowjob, she also increases her pace slowly. She truly wants to make it all the time and to experience another world far from her idol image. They parted lips as the pace started getting faster. Hanni then let Y/N do more of the work; he's now the one driving the pace as he fucks her hard, leaving Hanni with moans and pleasure.

“Fuck!! ,” she screamed as she  coughed. Y/N followed with his seed shooting inside her. ‘Oh sh*t, I cummed inside fuck my bad,” he said to her.

Oh yes, cum inside me. I am on pills, you dumbo.” With her approving of him to cum inside of her. Y/N carried Hanni and changed into a dogstyle position and kept fucking her.

This goes throughout the night; time passes, lives change, and a new world is ahead.

Hanni kisses Y/N, “Thanks for coming; I had fun.” “Me, too. I am always here when you need me. Goodnight.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Thanks for reading!!

A/N: Hanni smut?, Hanni smut, Hanni smut!, HANNI SMUT!??!!!

[avis-writeshq]

01 — better than revenge

summary: “she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.”  pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn warnings: fluff, angst with a happy ending, Lila is a real piece of work here, VERY CANON COMPLIANT, Spencer’s a bit of an ass :( wc: 10.4k a/n: special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading MWAH SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

“Hey kid, wheels up in thirty.” Derek nods towards you, dropping a case file on your desk. 

You raise an eyebrow, flicking open the case file to the first page. A small laugh of disbelief leaves your lips. “Ooh, Los Angeles, media capital of the world. What’s the occasion?”

“Three murders, all shot in the head executional style.” 

Your face falls into a grimace as you grab your go-bag and tuck the file under your arm, following the rest of the team to the jet. “Spence and Gideon are there already, right? Talk about timing.”

Elle can’t help but grin at your words, slinking an arm over your shoulder. “Looks like you’ll see loverboy a lot sooner than you think.”

A shriek of betrayal leaves your lips as you throw her arm off of you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Sure you don’t,” JJ all but cackles as she boards the plane, grinning the entire way. 

“I’m gonna kill you,” you grumble, dropping your things on one of the seats in the jet. “Seriously, I mean it. I know how to get away with murder.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze that of a disappointed yet amused father. “Not the brightest thing to say while you’re in a room full of FBI agents.”

Elle lets out a ‘hah!’ as she sits across from you, crossing one leg over the other as she grins. “Get comfortable, buttercup, six hour flight and you’re not going anywhere.”

“Assholes.” You roll your eyes teasingly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to your case files. “And it’s not like that.”

“Oh, of course not,” Elle snickers, “you’re just friends.”

You throw a pen at her and it bounces off her leg harmlessly. “I can smell the sarcasm.”

“You’ll be smelling more of it,” Derek laughs, ruffling your hair. “Sit tight, kid, we’re in for a long flight.”

Once everyone was settled and the jet was high in the air, the team began to look through the files with Garcia on speaker as usual. 

“First two victims, Wally Melman and Chloe Harris,” You recite dutifully, glancing over the grotesque crime scene images. “Seems like they were both killed in public places.”

“Chloe was killed while walking her dog on the beach in Santa Monica which she did every morning, and Wally was killed outside of a massage parlour,” JJ reiterates, sitting down with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“In Culver City,” Derek adds. 

“Which he went to every Tuesday,” Elle continues.

Derek looks to the rest of the team, a thoughtful look on his face. “Well, if he knows their schedules, maybe that means he follows his victims for a while.”

“And not a single witness. So we know this UnSub can blend in,” Hotch mutters. “Regardless of the location, he has the ability to hide in plain sight.”

“So, he’s meticulous.” Elle nods, her eyes drifting from Hotch to the case file. 

“The media is calling Natalie Ryan’s murder the biggest celebrity homicide since Sharon Tate,” JJ adds, looking through the images of the newspaper clippings that were sent to her laptop.

“Great,” You muse, although frustration is clear in your voice. “What does that mean for us?”

Hotch lets out a sigh. “That everybody will be watching.”

***

“This guy is an assassin?” Detective Kim asks with disbelief as the rest of the team reiterates their thoughts once they were in the police department. 

“When you look at the victimology, there’s no obvious links,” Morgan points out. “All the kills were clean except in the instance of the last victim, Jeremy Collins.”

You nod, tucking a strand of hair as you reference the case files. “There’s absolutely no evidence left at the crime scene. Labs have found zero DNA, no manifestation of psychosexual release, and from what we can tell there’s no detectable signature of any kind. These kills are straight forward, almost like he’s on a mission.”

“Remember, our profiles are formulated not just by what’s present at the scene but also what’s absent,” Gideon says to Detective Kim.

“From all the evidence that we’ve gathered, we believe you’re looking for a Type Four Assassin,” Elle explains.

“Type Four?” 

Spencer immediately jumps in to explain, gesticulating throughout his explanation. “Type One’s are political assassins like John Wilkes Booth. Type Two’s are egocentrics looking for simple recognition.”

“Type Three’s are psychopaths,” Hotch continues, “cold-blooded killers who leave far messier scenes. Type Four, our UnSub, suffers from a major mental disorder and is frequently delusional.”

“The closer we come to figuring out that delusion, the closer we’ll get to finding the UnSub,” Reid points out. 

Everyone is left to their own thoughts and you look over to Spencer, a soft grin on your face. “How was your father-son bonding time?”

Spencer gives you a pointed look, but a soft laugh leaves his lips. “It was… fine.”

“Fine? Out of everyone on the team, Gideon chose you to present a talk about behavioural analysis and profiling to the LAPD. You love conferences. C’mon, give me something!” You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“We uh.. we went to an art gallery the other day. We met a movie star, so that was cool…” his cheeks are dusted with a soft pink as he talks and your curiosity only increases. 

“A movie star, huh? Look at you, mingling with the high and mighty.” You poke his cheek with a laugh. “Tell me about them.”

He flushes at the contact, clearing his throat. “Um… her name is Lila Archer. Have you heard of her? She’s–”

“Reid, (L/N), we’re meeting with someone,” Derek cuts in, nodding towards the both of you.

You blink in confusion as you follow him to another room. “Suspect?”

“Someone received a note,” Derek says quickly, glancing over at the note in Elle’s hands. “On a newspaper clipping of the latest murder.”

“Lila?”

A blonde woman was sitting in the next room over, her legs crossed over as she waits. Her eyes light up in recognition and she stands up. You can’t help but be impressed as you give her a quick once over. She’s gorgeous, exactly what you expect from a famous movie star. 

“I’m Agent (L/N),” You say gently, moving from your spot next to Spencer and holding your hand out. “This is Agent Morgan and I’m assuming you already know Doctor Reid. I understand that you received a note this morning?”

She wearily shakes your hand, her blue eyes flitting between you and Reid. “Yeah.”

“We just have a few questions to ask. We know that these things are sensitive, but we promise we’ll try to make the situation as easy as possible for you.” You shoot her a kind smile, excusing her weariness for fear or anxiety. “Is that alright?”

“Sure.” She respond curtly, shooting a smile towards Spencer before walking past you.

“Uh… okay?” You let out a little laugh in confusion and Derek raises an eyebrow at you.

“What was that about?” He asks, frowning.

You shrug your shoulders, watching as Spencer leads her to an empty desk. “Trust me, I have no idea. Maybe she’s just nervous and wants to talk to a familiar face.”

Derek hums in thought. “Maybe. But usually victims like this are more willing to speak to someone of the same gender. It’s strange that she was so direct to you.”

“She’s been through a traumatic experience. If I got a newspaper clipping with a message written in blood, I probably wouldn’t be too thrilled meeting new people either,” You defend, pursing your lips. “She’s probably just… scared, right?”

He doesn’t respond, moving to follow Spencer and Lila further into the police department. A few questions were asks about her relationship with the other victims, only to find that she was in fact the connection between the other victims. Wally Melman was a producer who Lila met with a few times to discuss a role, only for him to cast Natalie Ryan instead. Chloe Harris looked an awful lot like Lila, so it was likely that the UnSub got rid of her in order to ‘ice-out’ the competition. 

“(L/N), may I talk to you for a moment?” Hotch asks quickly, waving you over. 

You blink in confusion but nod, walking over to where he stands by the desk. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I want you to try and get as much information from Lila as possible.” He gestures to where Lila sits in one of the victim waiting rooms. “This is your area of expertise. Try and find out if there’s any distinct information that she’s given to anyone so that we can track the UnSub.”

“Got it.” You offer a smile, fixing your shirt as you agree. “I’ll update you if I get any new information.”

You make your way over to where Lila was sitting, trying to look as friendly as possible. “Hey, Lila. Are you alright? Can I get you anything?”

She glances over you for a second, looking you up and down before shaking her head. “I’m fine. Where’s Spencer?”

Your brows furrow at his words. “Doctor Reid…? He’s currently going through the timeline of events with our colleagues. In the meantime, I was hoping to ask a few questions, maybe shed some light on the entire situation.”

She raises an eyebrow before nodding. “Okay.”

“Alright…” you clear your throat, taking a seat across from her. “You mentioned that you receive a bowl of red anemones on the seventh of every month. Do you mind… telling me why you like those flowers so much?”

She shrugs dismissively, running a hand through her blonde hair. “They’re pretty. I like the colour.”

You nod slowly, writing that down in your notes. “Well that’s understandable; they’re very beautiful flowers. But they’re a little uncommon as a favourite flower, don’t you think? If you like the colour, a more common favourite flower would be poppies or roses… are you sure there isn’t another reason? The meaning behind red anemones is forsaken love and death… does that intrigue you at all?”

She scoffs, “are you trying to accuse me of something?”

“Not at all,” you say quickly, “I apologise if it comes off that way. I’m just trying to find out as much as possible about the entire situation. For all we know, those flowers could have been sent by the UnSub.”

A short silence lulls in the room as well as an awkward tension. So, you try to take things from another angle. 

“I love hydrangeas,” you say gently, a small smile on your lips. “I like the way they’re always bunched together and the colours are beautiful. Only a few people know that I like them though. My close friend and colleagues, my family… do you remember telling anyone about your favourite flower?”

She’s quiet for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know.”

Your face falls and you press a little more. “Are you sure you don’t remember? Maybe… maybe your manager, or a friend of yours?”

“I said ‘I don’t know’, okay?” She snaps, her hands balling into fists as she glares at you. “God, it’s not that hard to understand.”

You lean back in your chair, your gaze hardening. “I understand that this is difficult for you, but any information–”

“I don’t have any information!” Lila huffs, her hands placed in her lap. “Are you stupid or something?”

“The likelihood of these people being murdered because of you is incredibly high,” You say sharply, shutting your notebook. “If you’re withholding information from us it could prove detrimental to the investigation. I’m only trying to do my job. Asking you questions is part of my job.”

Her lips twitch at your words and she scowls. “I already told you I don’t remember.”

“Not remembering and not knowing are two different things, Ms Archer.” You place your card on the table. “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

You get up from your seat, heading to the door, only to see that it was wide open with Derek and Spencer standing at the doorway. In seconds, Lila’s gaze softens and she runs out of the room, sniffling as she does. Your gaze follows her as she runs out of the police station, a look of disbelief on your features.

“What the…”

“Seriously (Y/N)?” Spencer demands, a frown on his face. 

You gape at his words. “What are you–”

He cuts you off, running after Lila. Derek raises an eyebrow in their direction before turning to you. 

“You okay, pretty girl?” Derek asks gently, patting your shoulder. 

“Honestly? I have no idea,” You confess quietly, biting your lip. “I’ve never seen him get so…”

“Upset? Angry?” he finishes, a small laugh leaving his lips. “You and me both. Look, kid, it’s not your fault. She was clearly being dismissive of your questions and she needed a reality check.”

“It’s not like I’ve never spoken that way when interrogating someone before,” You point out, brows furrowed in frustration. “Even then, Spencer has never had an issue with it. I just– I don’t understand what’s got him so worked up.”

Derek can’t help but laugh. “You’re a profiler. Isn’t it obvious?”

You pause for a moment, thinking through their interaction. “He has a crush on her, doesn’t he? He likes her. Of course he does. Brilliant, now he’s involved.”

Derek pats you on the back sympathetically. “Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a job to do.”

***

Despite your original hesitancy, Hotch asked you personally to go with the others, meaning that you had no right to refuse. Well, you could, but that would mean throwing Elle under the bus and she would be much more helpful at the precinct than on set. So, before you could fake being sick and bail the investigation, you,  Derek, and Spencer went to check out the set of Lila’s movie, hoping to better observe her interactions with her costars and the staff. 

The inside of Lila’s small trailer is hot. Incredibly hot but relatively empty. As you look around, you gather that she’s either a minimalist or just didn’t have to spend a lot time in the trailer at all. Lila sits in front of the little group, wearing a robe to cover her costume: a cyan sequinned bikini set that she looked absolutely criminal in. Her hair has been styled in a classic blowout and you wonder how much time it took to get it to look so effortless.

“I’m not stopping my life,” she says, her voice almost stern as she steps out of the trailer and back onto the set.

You purse your lips as you glance at the paper in the plastic pocket, now labelled as ‘evidence’. Apparently it was taped up to the door of her trailer. Your eyes shift to Spencer who’s gaze doesn’t leave the door that Lila just walked out of for much longer than necessary. Neither of you have spoken since yesterday’s incident.

You hum thoughtfully, as you pull out your notebook, glancing at the notes you’ve been making. “Well, I guess the only thing we can do is talk to the people on set. Maybe they saw something. I’ll see if I can find out who has access to Lila’s trailer.”

Spencer nods in your direction. “Yeah, that’s… that’s a good idea.”

One of your eyebrows quirk up. “Okay…? Why do you sound so surprised?”

He flushes under your scrutiny, clearing his throat as the three of you begin to walk out of the trailer and towards the set. “I’m not! I– I’m not surprised. You’re good at your job.”

“You didn’t seem to think that yesterday,” You respond lightly, your tone petty and passive aggressive, gaze flickering between the cameras and lights on set. 

Derek coughs awkwardly before excusing himself and entering further into the set leaving you and Spencer alone outside by a vending machine. Spencer falters at your words and he runs a hand through his hair. The harsh Los Angeles sun beats down against your skin and you fiddle with the notebook in your hands. In turn, he fixes up his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbow, giving you a clear view of his forearms and large hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He says softly, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t– I was out of line.”

“You were,” You agree, your gaze shifting between the chilled bottled drinks in the vending machine and him. “Buy me a drink and we’ll call it even.”

A boyish grin grows on his face and he nods, pulling out his wallet. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, awesome. Iced coffee?”

“You know me so well,” you respond with an equally large smile, poking his cheek. “Thank you!”

He presses a few buttons, grabbing a Cola for himself. You can’t help but laugh, giving him a pointed look. He quickly moves to defend himself, “It’s a hot day, okay? An exception.”

“An exception,” You repeat, trying to hide your smile as you crack open the lid of your drink and take a sip. “What happened to ‘Cola has 50 grams of sugar in it. That’s the equivalent of eating two full bars of milk chocolate’?”

He pouts at your words, opening his drink and you watch as a few bubbles rise to the top of the bottle. He takes a swig of his drink, sighing in content. “Shut up.”

You laugh again once you officially enter the set, nudging Spencer with your arm teasingly. He nudges you back, rolling his eyes and poking your cheek. You retaliate by doing the same, swinging your drink as you walk. 

Before you could do or say anything else, Derek taps your shoulder. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.”

Spencer’s brows furrow. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to cross reference answers,” Derek dismisses. 

“Let me pull up my list,” You respond helpfully, grabbing your notebook. “Hey, Spence, do you mind canvassing the rest of the crew? See if anyone pays any special attention on Lila?”

He nods at your words, moving towards Lila, sipping on his drink. In the meantime, you turn towards Derek, a curious look on your face. 

“Little Miss Madonna has been glaring at you since the moment you entered the set,” Morgan says quietly, his gaze flitting to where Lila was making coffee. 

You practically snap your neck as you look up in her direction, watching as she quickly fumbles to make herself a cup of something. You turn away and you could practically feel her gaze burning against your scalp. A frown makes its way onto your face and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. You glance over to where she and Spencer were talking, blanching when you watch as she takes a swig of his Cola.

“You don’t mind, do you?” You hear her ask as she drinks and Spencer hurriedly shakes his head.

A quiet scoff leaves your lips and Derek nudges you with a look that reads ‘behave.’ You lift your hands in surrender and follow him over to where Spencer now stands by himself, Lila gone to talk to some other staff member.

“An exception, huh?” You ask Spencer, referring to his aversion to germs and sharing food. Your tone is mostly teasing despite the underlying bitterness beneath it. 

“Shut up.” He mutters quietly, cheeks hot from embarrassment of being caught.

Derek snorts, clapping his shoulder before moving on.

***

The next day, you were going over the evidence that was provided by the LAPD. Considering that it was a relatively young case, there weren’t copious amounts of evidence, meaning that there were still untied strings to go through. The entire situation proved more difficult than necessary; no one seemed to notice anything  amiss when it came to Lila and her relationships, and considering that the actress wasn’t very forthcoming with the information she knew, you were hitting dead-end after dead-end. 

Although geographical profiling was more of Spencer’s expertise than yours, you figured it wouldn’t do anyone harm by triangulating the previous three murders. He was standing beside you, his presence not unwelcome as he guides you step by step on how to plot an understandable and accurate profile. Hotch had asked him to coach you through the entire situation and explain his point of view, as well as his thought process when it came to geographical profiling. With a comfort zone now clearly expressed, you were discussing probable suspects on the phone with Garcia.

“Will Hunter… currently the town hermit, previous criminal record of armed battery and robbery,” Garcia recites, and you pull up his file.

“Mm… maybe? No, I don’t think so. His crimes don’t match the UnSub’s profile. He seems to be messier, uh, tending to use bats and knives than a clean shot to the head. And the profile suggests that the UnSub is able to blend in with the crowd.” You hum in thought, turning to Spencer.

“Hermits like Will Hunter wouldn’t be able to do that,” He explains to Garcia, putting his file into the ‘unlikely’ folder.

Garcia sighs in frustration and you can hear her furiously type away on her computer. “How about–”

“Hold that thought,” Elle says quickly, cutting Penelope off apologetically. “(Y/N), did you know Lila’s here?”

You blink in confusion, slowly shaking your head no. “She’s here? I didn’t get any calls from her.”

Elle shrugs at your words. “She looks like she’s going to burn a hole through your head.”

Your brows furrow and your gaze shifts to the blonde woman through the office window. She has her arms folded over her chest, a scowl on her face, before her cheeks burn in embarrassment of being caught. Spencer follows your gaze, his face lighting up at the sight of the actress. It’s almost as if he has selective hearing when it comes to his celebrity crush, clearly not hearing the part where Elle points out that Lila has been glaring at you the entire time.

“Can we talk outside?” You ask Elle quickly, getting up from your seat, not taking no for an answer.

Spencer opens his mouth to say something before he shuts it, watching as you drag your other co-worker out of the room. Your attention shifts between Lila and Elle, your brows furrowing. 

“What is it?” You ask, your back turned towards the actress. “Why is she here?”

“She gave me a list of people who know what her favourite flower is,” Elle says quietly.

Your ears go red at her words, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Excuse me?”

“She called me yesterday,” she explains, handing you the list of people. “She said that she remembers who they were and came in today to give me a list of people.”

You scoff in disbelief, throwing your hands up in the air in frustration. “I gave her my card.”

“She called and asked for me.” 

You scoff again, rolling your eyes. “Oh, so suddenly she can remember everything when she talks to you, but nothing when she talks to me? She’s not very slick.”

The door behind you opens, revealing Spencer who has been listening in the entire time. His jaw is clenched and a frown is etched upon his features as he looks at you accusingly. 

“Maybe she just didn’t remember,” he points out harshly as you and Elle re-enter the room.

An incredulous look makes its way into your face. “Excuse me?”

“She didn’t remember, and now she does,” Spencer says, and from the corner of your eye you watch Elle slowly leave the room once more. The door closes with a soft click.

“That doesn’t change the fact that she went to Elle and not to me,” you respond, trying to keep your voice even and your words clear. You take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself down.

Spencer scowls at you. “Maybe she has every right to go to Elle after you snapped at her the first time you tried to talk to her.”

“Are you– are you being serious right now?” A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you glare up at him. “Look, Reid, I’m sorry that I’m not her biggest fan and that I don’t kiss the ground she walks on, but I was doing my job. A job that I believe I am quite good at. It’s not like speaking harshly is unheard of when it comes to the retrieval of information.”

He flinches when you call him by his last name but he stands his ground. “If you were so good at your job, you wouldn’t have to speak to her that way,” he argues, and you can see the vein in his forehead begin to protrude.

His words sting and bite you and suddenly you feel your resolve snapping. “You know what?” The words are slow and deliberate as they leave your lips, and you jab a finger against his chest. “I get that you have a crush on her and that you’re finally going through puberty but that does not mean that you can ignore the job you are currently on.”

He swallows thickly and he opens his mouth to retaliate but you push your finger against his chest once more.

“I am not finished.” Your voice is low with frustration and annoyance as you scowl, glaring up at him. “I don’t care who you’re attracted to or who you want to sleep with. I don’t give a damn if that someone is victim in the investigation because it’s not my problem. I do, however, have a problem when you undermine my ability to do my job and do nothing to fix it.

The worst part is the fact that you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive and helpful and– and– and understanding.” Your mouth is moving quicker than your brain can register and you’re stumbling over your words as you snap at him. “I’m supposed to be able to go to you if I’m going through something. I should be able to talk to you if someone or something is bothering me, but now I’m just afraid that you’ll call me crazy and then criticise me all over again.”

His face falls and he looks at you like a kicked puppy as the words slowly sink in. He reaches out to you, his hazel eyes searching your face but the only emotion that you’re showing is anger. You push his hand away, the frown set on your eyebrows. It’s only then when you realise that Garcia has been listening into the conversation the entire time, your heart lurching to a stop when you hear her cough on the other side of the line.

“Um… is now a bad time to say that I didn’t get any other hits for the profile?” She asks tentatively through the speaker, and you feel your face burning.

“I need air,” you announce to no one in particular, before grabbing your files and storming out of the room.

Elle catches your arm on the way out, her eyebrows knitted together in concern. “(Y/N)-“

“Hey. Sorry.” You bite your lip, loosening the grip you have on your papers. “Where’s Hotch?”

“With Derek and Gideon,” she says gently. “Lila got another note and we’re going to check on her manager. Do you want to come with?”

You exhale before nodding. “Yeah. That’d be good.”

“Okay.” She squeezes your arm gently, her eyes flitting between you and Spencer who was inside the conference room, pacing back and forth. “Is… everything alright?”

“Honestly? No.” You offer her a wry smile, shoving your files into your bag. “But it’s fine.”

She chuckles a little in disbelief, leading you to the black SUVs outside. Derek and Gideon were already there, waiting patiently for the two of you while Hotch has already left in another SUV. Apparently the ‘no profiling each other’ rule was thrown out the window as soon as they saw the state you were in, and Derek quickly makes his way over to you.

“(Y/N), are you–”

“I’m fine,” you snap, before closing your eyes tightly and letting out a deep breath. “Sorry, Morgan. I’m okay, just had an argument with Reid.”

At that, his eyebrows shoot upwards. “Since when did you call him ‘Reid’? And what do you mean you had a fight with him? He literally can’t say no to you.”

“Yeah, that was before a Miss Archer walked into the room,” you mutter bitterly. “Shot a literal arrow through his heart. She put her name to good use. I never stood a chance.”

“Hey now, don’t say that,” Elle says, climbing into the SUV. You follow closely behind and she continues. “He’s just confused right now.”

You can’t help but scoff. “I really doubt that.”

Gideon starts the car, looking at you through the rear view mirror. “You’re a profiler. What do you really think?”

The words die at your tongue and you deflate into the seat of the car. You hate to admit it, but Gideon is right. You should be able to figure out exactly what Spencer is thinking. After all, he’s your best friend– you shouldn’t have to be worrying about guessing games when it comes to him.

Hotch is the first to arrive at the manager’s office, watching as your group pull up in front of the building. Once everyone clambours out of the car, they enter the building, a sigh of relief leaving them as they enjoy the air conditioned lobby. With a flash of a badge, the receptionist is quick to tell you which floor and room number Michael was in.

“Floor 11, Room 03,” you mumble to yourself as you scribble it down in your notes.

The elevator ride is silent and you rock back and forth on your feet as the lift begins to rise. Your head is spinning with thoughts and regrets as you consider the harsh words that you spat at Spencer’s face less than an hour ago. You must not have been hiding your frustration well because Hotch finally says something. 

“Is everything alright?” He asks, much like a father would when their child is having a tantrum. It’s fitting.

You shrug. “I will be.”

“Is it to do with Reid?” 

You cough awkwardly, glancing back at the notes in your hand. “That obvious?”

Derek snorts from behind you. “Yeah, a little.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with him,” Elle adds, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“I am– I am not in love with him!” You all but shriek, shooting her a half hearted glare and you stutter out a response. “I mean, I– uh– I like him but–“

“You are a horrible liar,” Derek cackles and you groan. 

Hotch and Gideon watch amused at the interaction, and the latter finally pipes in.

“Profiling isn’t something you can just turn off,” he explains to you, his tone gentle. He reminds you of a grandfather giving advice to their youngest grandchild, and a small smile makes its way onto your face. He continues to speak, “it’s subconscious and it becomes a habit. The only time it stops is when you either need it most, or when you don’t want to see anything.”

The elevator comes to a stop on the eleventh floor and Michael’s office wasn’t far away. The writing on the frosted glass reads ‘1103, Michael Ryer & associates, talent management’ and Elle raps on the door.

“Hello?” 

“Mr Ryer?” Gideon calls.

She knocks a few times again before opening the door entirely. “Michael–”

You’re met with Michael Ryer, dead in his arm chair and shot to the head, just like all the other victims. Despite having faced these circumstances before, you still feel sick to the stomach as you stare at Michael’s lifeless body and soulless eyes. It’s unnerving.

“Up until now every victim was a person who could be perceived as a threat to Miss Archer,” Hotch comments as they enter the room, pulling out his phone.

“Yeah, but Michael was a friend,” Elle says with a frown.

You look up from your notes. “He was a threat to the stalker.”

In less than twenty minutes, the LAPD dispatched forensics and evidence teams to the office. Lila and Spencer were on their way back to her house, deciding that it was best to deny the stalker access to her. You rifle through Michael’s belongings: his schedules, his files… everything until you come to one particular manila envelope. 

“Morgan, Elle, look at this,” you murmur, pulling the photos out of the envelope. “Pictures of Lila… nude.”

A flash of a grimace passes along Elle’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears. “He was probably paying someone to keep them out of the press.”

“The name on the file says Joe Martinez,” Derek mutters, turning the envelope over.

The name must have struck a chord, because Detective Kim’s head immediately snaps around to look at you. “Paparazzo?”

You blink. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, I deal with him a lot,” Kim responds, his face stoic. 

“We should follow that lead,” You comment, tucking the photos back in the envelope and looking over at Detective Kim and Derek. “I’m ready to go when you are?”

After an okay from Hotch, you, Derek, and Detective Kim make your way over to the Joe Martinez’s place. After knocking on the door to his place multiple times, Derek decides to open it in the way he knows best: by kicking it down. You grip your gun, holding it out in front of you as you travel through the hallways. 

“Clear!” You yell out upon pushing another door open, seeing nobody inside.

“(Y/N), you need to check this out,” comes Morgan’s call, and you follow the direction of his voice

Pinned above a small desk are picture upon pictures of Lila Archer. When she has lunch, when she’s out with her friends… it’s almost as if this person has completely documented her life. It’s a little nerve wracking, knowing that someone could follow you and take photos without anyone even realising.

“Hey is that–” you pause, pulling a piece of paper off the wall. “This is Lila’s schedule.”

Derek blinks in surprise. “I’m guessing he’s not supposed to have that?”

“No,” Detective Kim responds, and your gaze shifts to the table.

“Hey, isn’t that–” you feel your heart practically stop as you see who’s in the photos. 

“That’s Reid,” Derek mutters.

Kim shifts through the photos. “There’s a whole bunch of them,” he says, pulling out at least five or six print outs. “Is he a target now?”

Derek scoffs, throwing the photos on the table and pulling out his phone, making a beeline for the exit. “Not if I can help it.”

You and Detective Kim follow him out, making your way to the SUV. 

“Reid? Hey, it’s Morgan. Listen, you gotta watch your back over there, we just found a bunch of close-up photos of you at this guy Joseph Martinez’s studio. It looks like he could be the UnSub.”

As he speaks you feel your heart pound in your ears. Your head is dizzy with fear and you’re following after Morgan who’s walking unbelievably quickly. 

“He has a ton of photos of Lila and Nathalie plus a call sheet for Lila’s show,” Derek continues, the speed of his walk not wavering. “(Y/N) and I are on our way right now but I need you to be real careful until we get there, all right?”

You look down to shove your notes back into your bag when you hear it. The distinct vrooming of a motorcycle engine. You don’t think too much of it, only turning your head to look over your shoulder, your hand finding the handle of the car door. That’s all it takes for the motorcyclist to drive straight toward you and the others, pointing an arm out.

“Gun!” You manage to scream, just before the UnSub open fires, hitting Detective Kim. 

You dive behind the car, grimacing when your knee collided roughly against the pavement. By the time you manage to recover and grab your gun out of its holster, the UnSub is long gone. You stare as Morgan fires a couple shots before watching the motorcyclist ride off into the LA traffic,  and you turn to Detective Kim.

“You got hit. Where?” You ask, shoving your gun back into its holster.

He grunts in pain, his entire weight on the car as he groans out, “yeah, it’s fine. Just my shoulder.”

“Derek, call for help,” you order, pressing firmly at the wound with your hand to lessen the bleeding. He lets out a cry of pain and you wince. “Sorry, it’s bleeding a lot. Gunshot wound to the shoulder, no exit wound. Seeing as you’re not already dead, I don’t think it hit any major arteries, but it might have busted your collarbone. You’re lucky if that’s the extent of the damage. The shoulder contains a bunch of important and major bloodlines, as well as nerve endings.”

Derek turns to you with a wry smile. “You’re starting to sound like Reid.”

“You spend four years with him, you’ll start to learn a few things,” you respond with a humourless laugh. You continue to press against Detective Kim’s wound, murmuring an apology. 

“You should talk to him,” Derek prompts.

You scoff, “we have a detective bleeding in front of us and the thing you’re worried about is my love life?”

“Isn’t the first rule of relieving pain through distraction?” He asks. You shoot him an unimpressed look and he quickly nods his head. “Okay, sorry.”

Ten minutes later, Detective Kim is hoisted into the ambulance. You cringe as you wash his blood off your hands, once, twice, then a third time to make sure everything is gone. Your shirt has a couple of blood spots and you can’t help but frown; you liked that shirt. At least the stain isn’t too big– just a few splotches here and there. 

“It’s a good thing you held the wound,” an EMT praises, working quickly to secure Kim’s shoulder. “He shattered his collarbone, but you seemed to have managed to control the bleeding.”

If it weren’t for the circumstances, you would have shouted a clear ‘I told you so’ to both Derek and Detective Kim, but you keep your mouth shut.

Hotch, Gideon, and Elle arrive moments later, speaking to Derek about the detective’s injuries. 

“You okay?” Elle asks gently, squeezing your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you murmur, wringing your hands together. “Just a little jumpy. I’ll be fine.”

“We need to get to her house,” Gideon mutters, glancing at the group. 

Without another moment to lose, you’re clambering into an SUV, gripping the steering wheel until your knuckles turn white. Elle climbs into the passenger seat beside you, her brows knitted together in concern. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it, watching as you start the car and speed off into the direction of Lila’s house. 

After slamming the door shut and gripping the gun firmly in the palm of your hand, you follow Derek through the back entry of the house. You weren’t even sure if it could even be counted as a ‘house’; the place looked like it had at least five bedrooms on both floors. Derek glances at you, signalling to be quiet, then another to keep your eyes on him. A quiet splashing in the pool alerts your attention, and despite his attempts of getting you to not look, you do. And as soon as you do, you really wish you hadn’t. 

You are met with the sight of Lila Archer in her bikini-clad glory, in the pool with Doctor Spencer Walter Reid. Doctor ‘pools are incredibly unhygienic, harbouring more than 50 million different types of bacteria’ Reid. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you watch as their lips touch again and again, his hands cupping her face and her hands arms around his neck. 

Spencer pulls away from the kiss, his breath heavy and his head spinning. This is wrong. He’s not supposed to being do this. His brain is short circuiting and it’s even worse when he considers all the germs that could be in this pool. His head spins with the names of viruses and bacteria that could be festering in the waters he was currently in, and then he remembers he has more pressing matters to attend to. Namely the girl who was literally pressing her lips to his. 

He pulls away, stammering over responses. “We can’t– we shouldn’t. I’m a federal agent and you’re–”

Lila stares at him, amused, with her hands cupping his neck. “There’s no one here.”

“I’m supposed to be protecting you,” Spencer tries again, anxiety gnawing at his stomach. This is wrong. Unprofessional. Then his mind wanders to you and the nagging voice in the back of his mind urges him to do something. 

“There are police out front,” Lila says, kissing him again before continuing, “there are coyotes out back.”

“This is completely inappropriate,” Spencer stutters out, his hands reaching for her shoulders. Her skin is cold from the summer night’s breeze, even more so considering how they’re submerged in disgusting chlorine-filled pool water. 

“This?” She presses her lips to his once more. “What’s this?”

“This isn’t–” he swallows thickly, his cheeks flared. “No, there’s this thing called transference–”

Lila pulls away, her stare drifting from his eyes to his lips as she asks, “you don’t like me?”

Spencer blanches at the question. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” Lila repeats, more sure of herself now. “It’s because of her, right?”

He frowns at the insinuation. “‘Her’? Who’s ‘her’?”

“The other person on your team,” Lila says, her words bitter. “You like her don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry and he opens and closes it like a fish out of water. “What?”

“Let me change your mind,” she whispers, bringing her lips to his for the nth time. 

Spencer barely has time to react, his hands moving to the side of her face and he imagines that she’s you. But she’s not you and you would never kiss him in the middle of the pool. You would never pull him in by his tie and cut him off when he’s speaking. He pulls away. 

“Stop. Stop, Lila, I’m sorry, I have to– I have to tell you something.” His mind is blanking. Why is it that when he needs it, his brain shuts off?

“What?” Lila asks, her lips moving to his cheek and then to his jaw. 

“I didn’t want to tell you this before because I was a bit worried.” He’s screaming at himself in his head, kicking himself because ‘why the hell did he just say that?!’ Regardless of the way he wishes he could shut his mouth and run out of the pool, he continues, “I don’t know how to say it but I can’t not tell you.”

“What is it?” She finally pulls away and Spencer lets out a breath of relief.

The relief is short lived because he starts to blab, “Your manager, Michael–”

“What?”

“Gideon went to check on him but he got there too late.” Spencer thinks he’s going to hurl, his mind running a million times an hour and screaming, ‘No you idiot! No, no, no! Out of all the things you could say–’

Lila scrambles out of the pool, clearly distraught, and he reaches out to touch her arm… only to be swatted away with her sobbing and telling him not to touch her. He figures he deserves that and follows out of the pool after her. 

“How could you– how could you not tell me?” Lila demands, her tears mixing with the pool water already on her face. 

“I was afraid you’d be upset,” Spencer says lamely, water dripping from his trousers and he just wants a towel. 

“You– you knew what you knew and… how could you not…?” She’s on the verge of hyperventilating and she looks at him before looking away. 

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says quietly, not knowing what else to say.

Lila retreats into her house, shutting the glass sliding door behind her and Spencer can only watch as she throws a pillow at the wall before going up the stairs to her room. He stands there, in the cold, dripping wet from the pool water and he wipes his face with his hand. His gun sits on the table, damp, and he has the urge to scream. Before he could do something exceedingly stupid, the sound of footsteps alert him and he spins around. 

“Elle?”

“We found him in the bushes,” she says to Spencer, nodding to the guy being cuffed by Derek. 

“I told her she should cut those.” He says dismissively, wiping his gun with a towel. He looks at her and then at you. He swallows thickly, noticing the way your eyes look him up and down, the disapproval oozing in your stare. “I– uh– I fell in.”

“Yeah,” you respond, holding the camera up and a sarcastic smile blossoms on your face. “I’m sure there are plenty of photos of it.”

He sighs, “(Y/N)–”

“Hey, stop shoving me, man!” Joe snaps as Derek pushes him to walk forward.

“You’re a suspect in the murder of Wally Melman, Natalie Ryan, and Jeremy Collins.”

You watch as Joe’s face comically contorts from annoyance to confusion as he jumps to defend himself. “Murder? What? Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

“Just shut up with the ‘whoa’. We know for a fact that you have hundreds of photographs of Lila Archer and Natalie Ryan on the walls of your studio. You have Miss Archer’s daily schedule on your desk. You’ve been stalking her.”

“Look, guy, hold up. Every paparazzi’s a celebrity stalker,” Joe says and the rest of the group turn to look at him incredulously. He continues to speak undeterred. “If you don’t stalk them, you don’t get the shot, and if you don’t get the shot, you don’t sell no pictures.”

“Yeah, well this one’s gonna cost you,” you hum, holding the camera in your hands and ripping the film out despite his yells of defiance.

Derek steps forward, pushing Joe to keep him walking. “Tell it to your lawyer.”

“Wh– I’m still being locked up?”

“That’s right, at the very least you’re trespassing.”

Elle and Derek walk Joe out of the premises, and you push the pulverised film against Spencer’s chest. He grips it in his hands, a soft ‘oof’ leaving his lips at the contact. 

“You’re welcome,” you mutter, albeit a little bitterly, as you turn to follow the rest of your team out.

“(Y/N), listen, it didn’t mean anything,” he says softly, squeezing the film in his fist tightly while the other hand reaches out to you. 

You roll your eyes, opening up the sliding door. “I told you, Reid, I don’t care who you sleep with.”

He splutters a little, pushing his hair away from his face. “We didn’t– I didn’t– we didn’t sleep together, you know that.”

“Even more reason why I shouldn’t care.”

His hand grips onto your shoulder, turning you around so that you’re facing him. “But you do. ‘Shouldn’t’? You care. You clearly obviously care, (Y/N).”

“I don’t,” you deny, pushing his hand away. “Reid–”

“Stop calling me that.”

“–it doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

He grabs onto your arm, stopping your retreat. “Why are you being like this?”

“I am not ‘being like’ anything!”

“(Y/N).”

“Doctor, this is highly unprofessional.”

He has to stop the frustrated groan that was moments away from leaving his lips as he stares at you. His eyes ghost over your frame, stopping directly at the dark red splotches on your shirt.

“What happened?” He demands, taking a step closer. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Who’s blood is that?”

“Detective Kim’s.”

“What– were you shot at?” 

His hands fly to your face, trembling and cold, and you would have thought it was romantic if he didn’t do the exact same thing less than twenty minutes ago with another girl. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quietly. 

“Don’t say that.”

“God, you act as if we’re dating or something!” You snap, pulling away from him. 

He stops short, his cheeks and ears reddening at your words. His mind goes blank and suddenly he feels very warm at the idea. Dating you? Every moment he had with Lila in that pool is nothing compared to the idea of dating you.

He watches as you roll your eyes before tugging your arm out of his grip. He wants to cry out again, to say something, but his head just seems to repeat the words ‘we’re dating’ over and over again. 

“Just forget it, Reid.” You look to the house and your gaze grows steely once more. “Your girlfriend is calling.”

*** 

“I want to try and talk to some of Lila’s close friends,” you say to the others after getting off the phone with Garcia. “According to Penelope, there’s a girl named Maggie Lowe on the list that Lila gave us and they’ve known each other since college. Apparently, they spent a lot of time together and Lila helped her get a job.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elle says instantly, climbing into the car. “Why Maggie?”

You start the ignition, backing out of the driveway and onto the main road, following the GPS directions. “They spend almost all of their time together. I mean, she must have noticed something off, you know?”

Elle nods slowly in understanding. “She knows about the red anemones, right?”

“Yeah. And she was the one who found the note taped to the door.” You pause, thinking through the evidence again. “Her apartment is right in the middle of the comfort zone.”

“You think she could be the UnSub?”

“It all seems too convenient. But then again, we didn’t profile the stalker as a woman. There have got to be some inaccuracies or things we overlooked because of the gender,” you murmur, stopping at a red light. “Call Garcia for me.”

The phone rings once before Penelope’s unmistakable voice chimes through. “Speak my pretties, and you shall be heard!”

“Hey, Pen, can you check what vehicle is registered under Maggie Lowe’s name?” You ask into the speaker, parking in front of the apartment.

“Checking, checking… aha! It’s a Honda Motorcycle, she just got it serviced six and a half months ago.”

“That’s the vehicle that the UnSub was driving when they shot at us,” you mumble in realisation. “Call the others, the UnSub might be Maggie Lowe. We’re checking the apartment now.”

“Gideon and Derek are at the art gallery to talk to Parker Dunley,” Elle points out. “I’ll let them know we’re at her apartment.”

There’s a typing on the other side of the line and Penelope chimes in once more. “Bad news, my loves. The cameras report Lowe’s motorcycle leaving the apartment complex half an hour ago.”

“Garcia, call Reid and tell him what we know. Elle and I are going into the apartment. We might find evidence or clues on who the next victim might be.” 

With that, you hang up, getting out of the car and running up the stairs with Elle hot on your heels. 

“Maggie Lowe?” You call through the door, knocking once then twice. 

You’re met with silence and you grimace, deciding to do Derek’s favourite move: kicking the door down. With a crash, the door slams open and you grip your gun a little tighter in your hand. Bathroom, clear. Kitchen and pantry, clear. Lounge, clear. Bedroom, clear– you stop short. Pictures– framed pictures– of Lila hung around the wall. A cork board with newspaper clipping and magazine cut outs were pinned meticulously to the cork backing, each one with Lila’s face and name circled with bold red marker. 

“Holy shit…” Elle whispers, holstering her gun and staring at the wall. “This is… this is beyond obsession.”

“You’re telling me,” you respond, putting on a blue glove and flipping through the cork board. “Call the others, Maggie is definitely the UnSub. Someone this obsessed must have…” you pause, filing through the desk on the other side of the room, “… a diary. Each murder was described to detail in each entry, as well as her feelings towards Lila.”

Elle grimaces as she looks over your shoulder to read the diary entries. “Grim.”

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Above her desk are images of Lila. Every single show she’s been in since Julliard, every time she was mentioned in an article, posters, newspaper clippings of the murders… the entire ordeal makes you feel sick. 

Elle sucks in a breath, staring at the desk. “She’s got Lila’s entire life documented.”

“And she’s probably already at Lila’s house,” you mutter, grabbing your phone. “We need to get over there, now.”

*** 

“The city of angels everything you thought it would be?” Derek asks amusedly, leaning against the wall of the jet as he watches you pour your third cup of coffee in the past three hours. 

It’s a couple days after Maggie Lowe was apprehended and the team were on the jet home getting some much needed rest. The aircon was put on full blast and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, enjoying the coolness on your skin in contrast to the hot Los Angeles weather. 

“I’m never coming back here,” you quip, your gaze shifting to where Spencer sits. He’s reading a book but he hasn’t turned a page for the past thirty seconds. “If I were to overthrow America, Los Angeles is the first place to go.”

Derek snorts, his eyebrows raising. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” you huff, finally looking at him. “I’m serious!”

“Sure kid. Totally believe you.”

He’s teasing, a knowing smirk on his face as he watches you chug the coffee with a grimace. Your tongue burns and you fill the cup with water and chug that as well, ignoring the amused look Derek keeps sending you. From the corner of your eye you see Spencer reading his book. At least, it would appear that he was reading to someone who didn’t know him. But you know him. He’s been staring into the pages for the past minute now and that alone was enough to let you know that he was paying more attention to your and Derek’s conversation than to the words on the page. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you sit beside Elle who is already fast asleep. You envy her for a moment as she leans against the plane window, blissfully unaware to your mental torment. Stupid Spencer and his stupidly pretty face. From where you’re sitting you can see the back of his head and you glare at that the ridiculous mop of brown on his head. 

The rest of the plane ride is uneventful and by the time you make it back to the office it’s already late. It’s nearing one in the morning and everyone begins to head home. Derek is yawning as he leaves the office and Elle has a look that screams ‘Don’t talk to me’. Gideon is long gone and Hotch was in his office, packing up the last of his papers and files. 

Spencer is sitting at his desk, combing through the paperwork and stashing a couple pages into his satchel. He bids farewell to Derek and the others before shoving his train pass into his pocket. 

“You’re taking the train?” You ask, finally speaking to him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he shifts on his feet, gripping the strap of his bag. “Um, yeah. I took the train here, so...”

“Oh.” You nod, glancing at the clock. “No you’re not.”

He huffs out a laugh. “What?”

“You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you get onto a train at one in the morning,” you say, pointing with your chin to the elevator. “You might be a man and all, but it doesn’t change the statistics.”

You know his weakness. Statistics. Facts. Spencer hates the fact that you know him so well. 

He relents, getting into the elevator with you. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He hears you scoff, pressing B1 on the elevator. “Just because I’m mad at you, doesn’t mean that I’m going to let you do something potentially dangerous.”

He hates the way your words makes his heart flutter and he continues speak. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you did,” you respond curtly, watching as the elevator doors open. “Come on, my car is that way.”

Spencer flinches at your tone. “I’m sorry.”

You laugh. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for.”

“I–” the words die on his tongue as he wracks his brain. “I thought it was because you didn’t like Lila.”

“That’s true,” you murmur, unlocking the car. “Look, Reid–”

“Please,” he cuts you off, his voice cracking as he practically begs. “Please stop calling me that.”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes flicker to him as you tug the car door open. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”

Spencer’s nostrils flare as he gets in the car. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

You laugh again as you start the engine, glancing at the mirrors. “Everyone calls you Reid. It shouldn’t be any different for me.”

He huffs. “But it is different. You’re… different.”

“How?” You challenge, backing out of the parking spot and getting onto the main road. You’ve memorised the route from Quantico to Spencer’s apartment in DC– an almost one hour drive and you understand why Spencer hates driving to and from work. 

He falters before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just please don’t call me by my last name again.”

“Spencer,” You try again, missing the visible relief in his eyes, “I’m not mad at you because of something as miniscule as a girl. You’re entitled to your own relationships outside of work.”

“I don’t under– oh.” The realisation dawns on him when he recalls all the words you threw at him at the precinct. “I wasn’t a very good friend, was I?”

“No, Spencer, you weren’t.” You don’t hesitate to say it and Spencer winces at how quickly you agree with him. “You were unfair and let your emotions get in the way of the case. You criticised me and undermined my authority and then you had the absolute nerve to act as if nothing was wrong.”

“I’m sorry,” he croaks out, the lump in his throat getting bigger. 

“It hurt, Spencer,” you say, and your voice cracks as well. “It hurt because you’re my best friend and I would have supported you through everything. You know that. And I get that friends fight, but I thought that we wouldn’t fight about something as stupid as who you hook up with.”

“I didn’t hook up with her,” Spencer says quietly, and he thinks he might cry. “I’m serious, (Y/N), I didn’t hook up with her. She kissed me–”

“It doesn’t matter.” Your gaze shifts to him for barely a second before it’s back on the road. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter who you’re attracted to. I just didn’t think it would effect our friendship.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer says again, holding onto his bag. 

You’re quiet before continuing, “ I know you are. I know that. I’m sorry that you thought that you needed to justify your feelings to me.”

He swallows thickly, watching your face carefully. You didn’t do anything to make him feel like he had to justify himself. If anything, it was Spencer’s conscious that made him feel the need to explain himself. The guilt that he felt after kissing Lila was enough to get him to feel sick. The guilt that he felt after knowing how badly he hurt you was enough to make him want to grovel at your feet. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” He mumbles, wetting his bottom lip. “You had– have– every right to be upset.”

“I don’t want to be upset anymore,” You say as you continue to drive down the freeway. 

He’s quiet before he finally says, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

He swallows the lump in his throat and he presses the pads of his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

You finally park in front of his apartment, leaning against the chair. “I know. I know, I’m sorry too. I said… a lot of things.”

“I deserved it,” he says, a small laugh leaving his lips as he finally looks at you. “You’re right, I wasn’t being fair.”

You hum, leaning over the console to give him an awkward hug. He presses his nose into your shoulder, breathing in your vanilla perfume. His arms wrap around your middle and he realises how much he missed this. How he missed being close to you. 

“I won’t do it again,” he promises. 

“I know.”

“I really am sorry.”

“You need to stop apologising.” Your words come out like a laugh and he realises how much he misses that sound too.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says into your shoulder. “Coffees for a month. I’ll even get you those croissants you like, even though they’re really overpriced.”

You laugh again and he smiles. 

“You apologising is already good enough,” You say, squeezing his arms. “Now go get some rest, Spence.”

His smile widens at the nickname and he finally pulls away. “Good night. Thank you for driving me home.”

You smile back. “Good night. Don’t mention it.”

The next morning, you find a steaming coffee on your desk and a freshly baked croissant in a brown paper bag. Spencer waves at you and you can’t help the goofy grin on your face as you take a bite into the croissant. 

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Ours Together pt 3

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 8k

Notes: Agatha All Along Spoilers, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, intimacy bordering on smut but no actual smut, happy ending, everyone survives

Summary: Things get rocky between the coven as they work to get through the rest of trials and off of the road. It begins to feel like Agatha, Rio, and their fallen angel versus the rest of the witches.

An: Took me awhile to write this one, but it is longer than the other parts. This is the final chapter of Ours Together, so I hope you guys enjoyed. Feel free to like, reply, reblog, and slide into my inbox with any questions about this fic. Thank you for reaading 🫶.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

You were trying to find a way to be ok with leaving Agatha behind. The argument that the road wasn’t real, wasn’t working anymore. Not when you could remember the feeling of your wings being severed.

“Looks like the next trial is up ahead.”

A cabin. It’s disarming enough, but you knew better. A glamorous home, and the gates of heaven were both omens on this trail.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mumble entering the wooden structure.

You were uninterested in what was to transpire until you came to the understanding that this was Agatha’s trial. That information made you focus more on quickly executing the task.

Learning that you had to Ouija was disappointing. Due to your previous affiliation you were not allowed to touch the boards. If an angel were too touch a Ouija board there was a chance that their soul would get lost with the others.

So you watched on edge as the others did the board. You couldn’t help, but laugh a little when Agatha pretended to be possessed. You even laughed a bit when board said that Death was here with you. However your laughter completely stopped when it kept spelling out punish Agatha.

When she let go of the board you knew it was going to be all bad. The witches in the coven turned on her pretty quickly.

“It’s clear what we have to do, punish Agatha.”

“Try again because you’re not touching her,” you kept your voice low and calm.

You could feel their eyes on you.

“Y/n it’s what the trial wants. You should know-”

You stop them there, “You’re right, I do know because I had to have my wings cut off. What I learned is what happens in these trials is painfully real. So I dare you to touch her.”

Rio stands by your side, arm loosely hanging over your shoulder, “I’m on her side.”

“That’s not fair. Agatha has literal Death and The Fallen Angel protecting her, what are we supposed to do?” Jen throws her hands up in exasperation.

It starts a bickering amongst everyone. They all send looks your way. It's not something you mind anymore. You had gotten used to hostile starts a long while ago.

“What if it's the only way?” Agatha says just so the two of you can hear.

“We will find another way,” Rio reassures the woman.

That's when the lights go dark. You stay close to Rio, forming an outward facing circle with the rest. Agatha had vanished from her spot.

“Agatha,” you call her name tentatively.

Its not until Teen flashes his light at the ceiling that you see a clearly possessed Agatha drop down. Everyone screams at her appearance.

“What the fuck?” Slips out of your mouth as you watch your lover crawl and swing her arms around.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Rio calls out tentatively.

“Oh my god.”

Agatha has Jen in her hold before anyone can do anything about it. You all try to get her to loosen her grip, but nothing works until Lilia hits the lights. Once she does you and Rio become frantic as Agatha disappears again.

“Agatha! Where is she, alright? Where is she!” Rio’s frustration grows.

You take her hand in yours, silently. Your eyes wandering the room because you’re still trying to find Agatha as well.

“What’s that?” Teen says as a almost translucent cloud forms in front of the stairs.

Your frown deepens, “A ghost.”

“I hate ghosts,” Rio grumbles as the image of a woman who is familiar to the both of you materializes.

Lilia asks the ghosts who she is. Evanora, answers and you can’t hide your look of irritation.

When Agatha speaks up from her spot on the stairs you feel relief wash over you. She’s ok, you breathe a little easier. Simultaneously, your heart breaks as you watch her pretend to be nonchalant about her mother possessing her.

“You must finish the road without Agatha, leave her with me.”

“No, no way!” Rio’s eyes burn into the ghost.

“Weren’t you guys fighting at some point before all this?”

You glare stays on Evanora, “Yeah, well, her mother can’t have her.”

The ghost floats towards Rio, who takes a step back. You block Evanora’s path, your eyes taking on that dangerous black color.

“Mom? Why do you hate me still?” Agatha comes down the stairs to question her mother with a vulnerability that you didn’t think anyone else would ever see.

“You were born evil. I ought to have killed you the moment you left my body.”

When you see a tear slide down Agatha’s face, you lose it. While the rest of the coven is taken aback by Evanora’s harsh words, you weigh your options.

“We have to go,” Jen says, turning to leave Agatha behind.

Agatha pleas are genuine as they fall from her lips, “Please take me with you. Don’t go. Don’t leave me with her I can be good. Please!”

“NO ONE IS LEAVING!” Your voice shakes the walls as you speak.

Jen tries to take a step forward, but she can’t in fact no one in the room can move freely except for you, Rio, and Agatha.

Evanora sees your display of power and tries to hide herself in Agatha’s body.

“Oh no you don’t, you raggedy bitch.”

You’re quick to lay your wrists against each other and open your palms outward. The magic that emits is black just like your wings. The power hits the ghost. She lets out a cry of agony, looking wildly around as her soul is being melted away by your magic.

“Holy shit,” Teen says as they all watch it unfold.

“You’re a fool. An angel ripped from heaven because of my daughter’s sinister impact, yet you protect her. She doesn't love you, she's incapable. She’s evil reincarnated, she will never-” Evanora’s ramble is quick and panicked as she begins to fade from existence.

You let up on your attack just to get closer to her. You squat down to her level, “Being in love with Agatha is one of the best things that could've ever happened to me. I will never regret it. She has always been good to me, even when I haven’t deserved it. For what you’ve done to her, I will erase you from every plane of existence because you, Evanora Harkness deserve a fate worse than eternal damnation.”

Your wings come out without your permission, making the moment look like something from a movie. With a single hand you begin unleashing your power on the ghost again. Your eyes, black and unblinking, your wings spread wide, your body firm in it’s place as you watch the ghost squirm underneath you.

Her words are incoherent as the screams take over. Her eyes begging for any other fate than this. You black magic drowning her out, until nothing is left. The screams are gone, her soul is gone. Not resting, not in a better place, or a worse place, just gone.

The trial had ended and the exit makes itself present yet, everyone is still frozen in place. Not by your voice, but by what they had just witnessed. Slowly you stand from your spot. Though you want to comfort Agatha, you turn your attention to the coven.

“If you ever think about leaving Agatha behind, I will kill you. I don’t care how old you are, I don’t care about what you want from the road, I do not give a single fuck about your feelings. I honestly hoped you’d shoot your magic at Agatha and just fucking die, but no we have to be on this stupid fucking road,” your anger rises with each word you speak.

“Y/n,” Agatha is gentle as she calls your name.

You shake your head, “Let’s just go.”

You march out of the exit with Agatha and Rio following behind you, and the rest following behind them.

“Sweetheart, I did say we'd go after one more trial,” Rio is careful as she speaks with you, back on the road.

“I’m not leaving her with them. If you have to go then go,” you can feel your jaw clench.

“Hey, I’m not the one who was going to abandon our girl, don't snap at me,” Rio says.

You take a deep breath, “Sorry, that just really pissed me off.”

“I know, I don’t think I remember the last time you destroyed a soul like that,” you can see the worry in her eyes as she looks at you.

“She deserved it. That woman was a piece of shit. Nothing she said was true,” you look at Agatha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet.

“Agatha,” Rio calls her name but she doesn’t answer. “Agatha,” she tries again more firm this time still nothing.

Its not until Death stands directly in front of the woman, her hands on the others shoulder, that Agatha reacts to her.

“I think we should camp for the night,” Rio says softly, and Agatha nods.

You turn to face the coven. They stop as soon as you turn, “Set up camp.”

“We always set it up, while you the go rendezvous for however long you want,” Teen talks back to you.

“Kid, don’t start with me,” your tone has a warning edge to it.

“No, I think I will. You’re not even a witch, why should we listen to you about the witches’ road?”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t know half as much as I do about the witches’ road.”

He stands his ground, “I’ve studied the ballad, I have notes. I am a witch.”

“ I’ve studied the ballad. I have notes. Blah blah blah,” you mock him.

Your words stir something inside the boy. Something that has the magic simmering at the edge of his fingers.

“I bet it was a harsh reality to deal with, once you realized you’d never go back to heaven. Considering that's probably where Nicholas went.”

It happens too quickly for anyone to stop you. You shove the teenager against a tree with an unimaginable amount of force. The tree cracks under the impact. You have two fistfuls of his shirt, tightly wound in your grip.

Your breathing is erratic and your eyes are once again black. The witches around you are screaming and pleading, but you aren’t focused on them.

“You don't get to speak about him like you know him. No one here knows him. You don't know what happened, so stop hypothesizing about my son’s death. It will get you killed, boy.”

“Y/n, let him go,” Agatha’s voice breaks through all the others.

You don’t get the chance to release the boy, as you feel yourself being repelled away from him. The magic is strong enough to push you off, but you don't fall down.

His hands are glowing with blue sparks and you see a crown forming around his head.

“Look who’s grown,” you don't back down from him.

“More than you can say for you son.”

You growl, “DOWN.”

The road seems to shift with your voice. The teen hits his knees. His magic vanishes from his hands. You don’t let him get the chance to speak before you blast him with your power.

He screams, but you don’t care. You stalk closer to him. You can feel hands on you trying to pull you back from him. Yet your vision is tunneled in on him. You strike him with your magic once more and he doubles over.

“Y/n look at me baby.”

Rio stands in your way, blocking you from the teen. You ignore her words but reach for her waist. You grab her dagger and hold it against the boy’s neck.

“You know what losing my son taught me, kid? Sometimes, boys just die,” a single tear rolls down your cheek as you smile sadistically at him.

“Can’t you do something to stop her?” Jen says.

“She’ll kill him,” Alice follows.

“Working on it,” Rio says, gears turning in her head, hoping to find a solution.

“It’s not his time,” Lilia murmurs.

You add pressure to the blade, watching him try his best not to move.

“Please, please I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I can be-"

“Good?” You cut him off.

His words, stuck in his throat, as he realized the similarities between himself and Agatha.

“It won’t bring him back,” you hear Agatha’s voice in your ear.

Her hand is firm on your forearm, keeping you from digging into the teen’s neck.

“Did you hear what he said about Nicky? This little shit deserves it.”

“Love, please,” Agatha tries to reason with you. “He wouldn’t want you to do this.”

You let out an animalistic grunt before pulling the dagger away from the teen’s neck and shoving it into the ground. You stand abruptly and walk away from the group, trying to cool off.

“Word to the wise Billy, do not go pissing off people more powerful than you,” Agatha’s voice is sarcastic, but her gaze travels the boys face trying to find injury.

“You knew? Did you-”

“Yes I knew, you're as predictable as your mother and no I didn't put the sigil on you.”

Lilia speaks up, “I did, for your protection.”

“And the plot thickens,” Rio teases.

“Your familiar almost killed him,” Alice points out.

Rio’s dagger is back in her hand. She twirls it around a bit, “Are we surprised? Billy here, does not know when he should shut the fuck up. Talking about a dead boy, he should be ashamed of himself. Nicky isn't some tool you can use to get a response.”

Billy looks to Agatha for back up, but instead finds her cold stare.

“I know Y/n would've regretted killing you, even if it doesn’t seem like it now. That was more for her than you. I don't ever want to hear his name come out of your mouth again. Understand?”

He nods, his gaze not meeting Agatha’s eyes, “I understand.”

“Great, well go ahead and set up camp, while we go deal with Y/n. Unless anyone has an issue with our rendezvous,” Agatha looks around for objections, she gets none.

Rio and Agatha take off in the direction you were headed. They walk side by side, looking for any sign of you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that before” Agatha looks to Rio.

The Green Witch mirror her look of worry, “Me either.”

They find you sitting by the edge of a creek. Your knees your chest as you stare past the water. The anger no longer seeping off of you like before. They sit on either side of you, slightly disappointed when you curl further into yourself.

“Sorry,” is the only word to leave your lips.

Agatha shakes her head, “It’s my fault.”

You and Rio try to protest, but Agatha simply raises a hand. “I let them believe whatever lies have been spun about my relationship with Nicholas. I believed them to be all less hurtful than the truth. It was ok when it was just me they antagonized, but if I knew you would've been their target, I would've come clean.”

“It’s none of their business. The truth would do no good for them. They have no empathy,” you mumble.

“How can you be so sure?” Rio is cautious when she reaches out towards you.

You take her hand and hold it up to your cheek, seeking comfort. Agatha sees this and moves so her shoulder is against yours, her arm tucks it self securely around your waist. Rio’s head falls onto your shoulder. You feel yourself un-tense at the contact.

“They heard my story, they saw our scars, they heard what Evanora said about Agatha, and yet, they still want to pick trivial fights,” your anger was replaced by exhaustion.

“He’s young,” Agatha tries to defend.

“It’s not just Billy. They wanted to leave you behind Aggie. What if Rio and I weren’t there, then what? They would’ve let her have you.”

You blink as the tears being to well in your eyes.

“I can't blame them, sweetheart. I would've done the same if it were any of their trials,” Agatha confesses.

Another sigh escapes you, “I’m assuming Billy made the road as well, while we’re on the topic of frustrating things?”

Agatha nods a few times, “I’m pretty sure. His powers they’re like his mothers, very tied up in his emotions.”

“I was going to kill him,” exasperation on your tongue.

Rio kisses your collarbone, “You didn’t, we wouldn't have let you.”

“He’s right, I’ve thought about it a lot you know? Nicky is somewhere up there like I was. I could’ve been there for him,” you look up to the sky as you speak.

“He’s in safest place he could be,” Agatha bows her head slightly.

“Who knew this made up road would be so stressful?” Rio concedes defeated by the things that have happened.

“At least it brought us back together. I don't think I could’ve spent another century, burning from the inside,” You attempt to joke.

“I think I know something that could relieve some of the stress,” Agatha says suggestively.

She stands, two pairs of eyes watching her intently as she begins to peel off her clothes.

“W- what are you doing?” You stutter, but don't look away from her.

She sits her clothes on a nearby rock, and struts into the creek.

“I’m taking a dip, you two are welcome to join me.”

Your jaw opens slightly at her proposal, “What if they see us?”

Rio stands as well, following Agatha’s suit, “I doubt that they would dare say anything after such a powerful display from our sweet angel.”

“Come on baby, loosen up a bit,” Agatha speaks from her spot in the water.

Rio slides up next to the witch, whispering something in her ear, causing them both to giggle.

“You know I’m supposed to be sulking,” you say getting to your feet, pulling off your clothes.

“Sulking, soaking, same difference,” Rio argues.

The water is pleasantly warm as you sink into it. The three of you bare, in the faux night of the road. It reminds you of the early parts of your relationship. Both women always up for dip in whatever body of water they came across. Nights spent in bodies of water, bathed by the soft light of the moon. Dark purple marks from the eager lips of your lovers.

The memories brought a slight color to your cheeks.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”

Agatha and Rio circle you, in somewhat of a predatory fashion.

“I bet she’s thinking about all the things we used to do in the water. Am I right doll?”

“Perhaps,” you say coyly. “But if you think after centuries, I’m going to give myself to you on the witches’ road, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“Fair, but a couple of kisses wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Rio wraps her arms around you from behind.

She trails a few kisses up the side of your neck.

“I suppose not,” you crane your neck to give her access.

“I think love bites are fair game,” Agatha’s hands find your waist. Her mouth latching on to the opposite side of your neck. She sucks with delicate force, playfully biting, before soothing the space with her tongue.

“Mhm,” you hum, the pleasure getting to you.

Your hands rest on Agatha’s stomach slowly climbing up to her breasts. You can’t help but play with them in your hands. You lick your lips recalling, how they felt in your mouth. Her moans when you would suck and tease her nipples.

“I thought we weren’t doing this here,” Agatha said breathlessly, as you play with one of her nipples between your fingers.

“We’re not,” you say, with a warmth spreading across your body.

“Then-”

You cut her off with a sensual kiss. She moans in surprise. She slips her tongue into your mouth and you suck on it teasingly. The woman laughs at your antics, which breaks the kiss.

It isn’t a moment after that you feel a hand wrap around your neck. You let Rio pull you into a hungry kiss, turning you body fully towards her. She’s trying to be dominant, but when your teeth tug on her lower lip, she lets out a whimper.

She ends up kissing down your body. Her lips stop right above your scar. She makes eye contact with you as her tongue meticulously traces over it.

It doesn’t go away, you all knew it wouldn't because it had already healed on it’s own. Yet she looks up at you with a pout that makes your knees weak.

“It was worth a shot,” she speaks innocently.

You want nothing more than to grab a fistful of her hair and yank her up to kiss your lips.

“That was hot,” Agatha says, watching with dark eyes.

“We have to stop,” the disappointment in your tone makes the other women chuckle.

“Awe, does baby want to cross her own boundaries?”

You separate from them and make your way back to land. An irritated groan leaving your lips, “We’re not fucking on the road.”

“Don’t be too mad about it hon, this was supposed to be relaxing,” Agatha teases following you.

Rio is the last out of the water, “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait.”

Going back to the makeshift camp, puts a sour flavor in your mouth, but it’s better than the burning rage you had felt when you left. Everyone is asleep when you return except for Billy.

“I wanted to apologize, for what I said. It wasn’t fair to blow up at you like that,” his remorse was real, you could tell.

“It’s fine, kid. I should be apologizing to you, hundreds of years old and I still can’t keep my temper in check. Let’s just squash it,” you start to make yourself comfortable.

“Did you mean what you said, about letting Agatha kill us?”

You suck in a breath unwilling to lie, “Yeah, I did. It might be hard for you to understand, but I’ve spent centuries away from Agatha and Rio. Having them back is everything to me, and the road strives to take them from me. I would do anything to get us off of the road and nothing will change that.”

“I- I understand. My brother, I would do anything to see him again. Whatever it takes.”

Agatha smiles, “Spoken like a true witch.”

“Word to the wise kid, power plays are never as personal as they seem. In this life, things are taken from you if you hesitate for even a moment. Don’t be afraid of your power and never hesitate.”

“Pretty sound advice for someone who isn’t a witch isn’t it?” Rio teases Billy.

He laughs awkwardly and nods.

“Get some rest, we have a road to conquer,” Agatha’s tone was parental.

Billy does as instructed, feeling better after the talk.

Your stare lingers on him a bit longer. A hand rests on your shoulder, “He’s fine.”

You nod to yourself, “Yeah.”

It’s easier falling asleep than it should've been. Your body is completely exhausted from using your powers so frequently. Time is strange on the road, you couldn't really tell how much time had passed due to the darkness.

“We gotta go now!”

You are startled awake by a panicked voice. You’re quick to get to your feet.

“Where’s the fire?”

You’re damn near being pulled along the road, as you hear steps running all around you.

“The seven are here.”

That sentence seems to shake the sleep from your body. Your eyes open wide as you begin to pick up your pace.

“Then why are we moving so slowly?”

“I’m running as fast as I can,” Lilia speaks, out of breath.

“We could use analog magic to fly?” Billy suggests it and the witches groan as a collective.

“I don’t hear anyone else coming up with ideas,” you say in his defense.

“Blast them with your angel powers,” Jen exclaims.

“Not an angel and I'm not doing a 7 on 1 attack,” you say.

One of the seven ends up catching up to you and like Jen suggested you blast them with your power. She gives you an ‘I told you so' look and you mock her.

“Brooms now,” Agatha says breaking off a branch from a tree.

Once everyone has a working broom you expand your wings and shoot up into the air.

“I thought we were any to have the coolest moment ever, yet here she goes upstaging us,” Rio smirks as she takes off, Agatha isn’t far behind her.

You don't remember the last time you flew prior to your time on the road. This is different than your trial. The cool air surrounds you as your wings flap with a familiarity. You feel free for the first time in a long time. A genuine smile takes a place on your face as you fly.

Agatha and Rio can't take their eyes off of you. It has been too long since they've seen you move freely in the sky. To them, it looks like you are home. Your smile makes them do the same, sharing a look of love between the pair. The shared adoration for you, fills their hearts. A soft fondness in their eyes as they fly side by side. Their love for each other unspoken, but heavy.

The road decides to break up the moment, forcing everyone back on to the path. You end up landing gracefully while most of the others take a rough landing.

It's no surprise that you land in front of another trial. Just like with your trial, everyone rushes in to avoid any of the wandering seven. Once inside it feels like a distasteful costume party. The witches dressed as their famous caricatures, while you have tiny fake black wings on your back with fake horns to accompany it. The only person who looks more ridiculous in your opinion is Rio.

“Why the fuck am I Skeletor?”

You giggle, but place your hands on her fake blue abs, “I think it’s all in good fun.”

Your laughter stops in its tracks when you get a glimpse of the ceiling. Knives dangle overhead threaten to fall. You see the tarot spread and immediately think of Lilia.

“Well looks like you’re up Lilia,” Alice places a hand on the older woman’s shoulder.

“Who am I reading for?”

The others chime with thoughts and theories, but for you the answer is quite clear.

“Your trial, your reading,” you say cutting through all of the chatter.

“Smart girl,” Lilia says beginning her own reading.

When the death card comes up, you can see attention shift to Rio.

She throws her hands up, “All roads lead to me, we already know that.”

The exit opens, but before anyone can step through it the seven are rapidly approaching.

“I’m tired of running,” Lilia stands her ground.

You shake your head, “You’ve got to get out of here, its not your time yet.”

“But-”

“But nothing, you’re a damn good witch, but right now you have to go,” you send her towards the door.

“What’re you doing?” Agatha asks with panic in her voice.

You don’t respond to her, “Billy, if you want to show off that power, now is the time."

Your powers manifested in your hands as you begin to shoot it at members of the seven.

“I’ll try,” magic sparks like electricity at the tips of his fingers.

“Y/n, we have to-”

You shook your head, “Get them out of here Rio. The kid and I got it, just have Alice on standby.”

Rio doesn’t reply, instead she shoves you towards the exit. She uses one hand to push you out of Lilia’s trial and with other she throws out the teen.

She closes the door behind the teen. You begin to bang on the door. You try hitting it with your power but it doesn’t budge. Your fist hits the door a few times, before Agatha pulls you back from the door.

“Why would she do that? She can’t- Agatha, we have to help her. We have too,” you were on the brink of being a mess.

Agatha grabs your face in her hands, trying to get you to focus on her. She gives you a tiny smile, “Sweetheart, they are locked in with her not the other way around. She’s la muerte.”

On cue, you hear the sound of screams coming from the room you were just in. You listen hard and pick up the unforgettable sound of a sword piercing flesh.

“Should we…” Billy says, ready for a fight.

“Easy there tiger, sounds like she has it under control,” Alice keeps the boy back with an exaggerated grab.

Rio doesn’t walk, but skips out of the space where Lilia’s trial was held. Her dagger in hand, glistening with blood. The gleeful nature of her return nearly makes you forget that you were in danger

“ The seven are now the zero,” she says spinning the knife in her hands.

“You could’ve done that the whole time?” Jen questions Rio.

Rio shrugs, “I don’t like getting my hands dirty, too much paperwork if I’m the one that does the killing.”

Instead of stopping to rest like the other trials, you decide to continue on. There’s only one member of the coven to test, before you could finally leave this hell hole.

You can basically see the nerves bouncing off of the kid. If this is the end, then whatever is next is for him.

“Well, looks like your last up kid,” you place your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m ready for whatever it is,” he steels his jaw.

“Just remember, take what you want. Don’t hesitate,” you lose pace with him to fall back with Rio and Agatha.

“Not too long ago you were trying to kill him, and now you’re giving him advice. Look how far you’ve come,” Rio teases you.

You roll your eyes, “I’m just trying to get out of here.”

“No soft spot for him?” Agatha pushes farther.

A smile tugs at the ends of your lips but you hide it well, “Nope. ”

“Guys I think we have a problem,” Alice’s voice calls for your attention.

A row of shoes in front of everyone seems to make silence fall across the group.

“Our shoes,” you hear the anger simmering beneath Agatha’s tone.

“We’re back where we started,” Alice says in disbelief.

“The witches’ road is a circle,” Billy adds on.

“And this is the finish line?” Jen is just as shocked as Alice.

You see Agatha try to use her powers and as nothing happens her face begins to contort into a scowl, “That’s it?”

She glares at Billy before yelling again, “That’s it!”

“Well, maybe we passed the trial?” Lilia tries to reason with the group.

“Then how exactly do we get off?” Agatha’s anger finally tips over.

“Well maybe we-”

“IF YOU DON’T KNOW KEEP QUIET!” She tries to stalk towards the boy, but you’re quick to pull her back into you.

You look to Rio, who carefully watches the interaction in front of her. It’s strange, because you three are the only ones who know that the road has been manifested by Billy. Therefore it is technically his domain, meaning he designed it like this.

“We need to keep going,” Agatha says with her voice low.

The rest of the group quickly breaks into chaos shouting their refusal.

“FINE! STAY HERE!” Agatha growls at the group.

Billy keeps staring at the shoes.

Rio speaks up, “Go ahead, put them on.”

“What do the shoes have to do with anything? “ Alice questions.

“Well you took them off for respect for the road right? Has the road been respectful too you?” Rio points out.

“Screw the road,” Billy says before slipping his shoes on.

No one gets a chance to say anything else. Instantaneously you find yourself confined in a dark space. You panic, feeling all around you until you find a zipper. Once you're free from the bag, you notice that you're in an all white room.

Billy, Agatha, and Jen all appear in the same situation you are in. You leave the body bag and look around.

“Where are we?” Billy asks.

“My basement give or take,” Agatha answers him.

“Where are the others?” Jen asks.

“Not too far,” you answer her.

She squints, “How can you be sure?”

“Cause my insides aren’t boiling from being away from Rio.”

“But Agatha’s right here?”

You sigh, “It’s an and/or type of thing. Meaning if one of them is too far it burns, significantly less than if they were both far, but still burns nonetheless.”

“Glad to know they’re close, but that doesn’t make us any less trapped,” Billy points out that the door is sealed.

“These are grow lights, are we supposed to grow something here?”

“There’s no water or soil,” you point out.

Agatha huffs in irritation, “Sure seems like another stupid fucking trial.”

She digs around in the body bag and gasps lightly, “We do have our personal effects.”

She pulls out her locket, causing the others to dig in their bags. You didn’t come on the road with anything so you weren’t surprised to find your bag empty.

You see Agatha struggling to put on the necklace and walk over to her. You take it from her hands and gently sweep her hair out of the way. Knowing what’s inside the locket, keeps your hands steady as you hook the chain.

You see her smile, relief plastering over her features, “That’s better.”

You go to step away, but she grabs your wrist, keeping you close by.

Billy isn’t so lucky with his notebook, “It’s worthless.”

The body bags disappear once he tosses the book in there.

“Well, I guess the road agrees,” you say sarcastically.

It’s then that the grow lights flicker.

“And now we have our countdown,” Agatha points out.

Jen leans against the wall watching the countdown. Agatha can’t help, but antagonize the woman as their time ticks away.

“I’ll be damned if I let us all die here, after making it this far,” Jen peels herself off the wall to stand in the center of the room.

“You don’t have any magic,” you tell her without any animosity.

“Well she saved me, maybe she doesn’t need it,” Billy points out.

It’s at this point where Jen mentions Boston. You can’t help it as your mouth falls open and you look at Agatha. Her eyes also opening wide, while staring at Jen.

“You need to do the unbinding ritual,” you tell them.

“Doesn’t she need the witch that bound her to do that?” Billy says not connecting the dots.

“Agatha? Are you the one who bound me?” Jen says, rightful frustration in her tone.

She shrugs, “I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at her, crossing your arms over your chest, “Now is not the time.”

“You nonstop sociopath!”

“You’re the one who bound her?” Billy can’t believe it.

“How did you even know I was in Boston?” Agatha questions you.

“Old habits die hard, you always went to sell your services in Boston when times got rough, but enough deflecting, do the ritual.”

“You kept me like this for 100 years?” Jen yells.

Agatha tries to defend herself, “ I didn’t know it was you. It was the 1920’s I did the odd spell for bank notes. The patriarchy really shelled out to shush a lady. It was bind or burn!”

“100 years!”

As much as you wanted to push to get the ritual over with, you knew Jen was justified in her anger. That was time that she’d lost forever. You knew better than anyone what it felt like to walk around for years on end as a shell of your former self.

“This is so awkward.”

Jen pulls Agatha into her and starts the ritual. Once it’s over and her magic is running through her she sobs. The reunion of her and her powers means her journey is over. She vanishes from the road.

“Where did she go?”

“The road gave her what she was missing. And now she’s gone,” Agatha deadpans.

You can sense the shift in her attitude immediately. It feels as though she and the teen are facing off against each other.

“This can end right now. I want power, you have power, juice me up.”

“So you get what you're missing and I’m left here to rot?”

You scoff at him, “She could’ve killed you at any point by now. When you were bleeding out of your side or when my knife was at your neck kid, use your head.”

“No one was talking to you, do you even want anything from the road ? Shouldn’t you have disappeared by now too?” Billy tries to pick a fight with you.

“You are the only thing standing in the way of what I want,” you tell him seriously.

“So what it’s 2 against 1 now? I’m not scared of either of you,” he gets in Agatha face, but keeps his glare on you.

The gesture pisses you off and you march over to them. Agatha puts her hand out, motioning for you to stay back. You reluctantly follow her gesture

“What a good little familiar,” Billy directs at you.

Before you can do anything Agatha interrupts, “Sit.”

“Why?”

“We’re going to find your brother."

His whole energy changes, “What?”

She sits down, “That’s what you want right? Tommy isn’t waiting out there. Not in a body anyway. Why do you think Rio came here to begin with? She knows you could do it for him.”

“Do what?”

The teen was so dense that you couldn’t help your outburst, “Give him another life. Another spin around the dance floor.”

His eyes snap to yours, “You think I can bring Tommy back?”

“Time to grow up, kid,” you say to him.

Agatha pats the floor and he cautiously sits down across from her.

You watch her work in only the way she can. Her instructions clear and concise. Just as prodding as they need to be to stir his memories, and get him talking. In another life she could’ve had a coven of disciples.

She keeps him focused on his breathing. Though she has no magic in this moment, you could feel it in her aura. The way she carries herself, there will always be a witch underneath it all.

When she grabs Billy, the lights flicker. Things become intense quickly. He hyperventilates, but Agatha holds him as he begins to rock.

He begins ramble about a dying boy his questions tug at your heart strings, but you remind him, “Don’t hesitate, Billy. Don’t be afraid of your power.”

“Am I killing this boy so my brother can live?”

He lets out a strangled scream, and then he’s gone.

The lights in the room are almost completely gone. Agatha sits still her place.

“No, Billy. Sometimes… boys die.”

It breaks you to hear her like that. You sit behind her and she leans back into your arms. The lights fade faster.

“I’m sorry, we should’ve left when had the chance,” she says unable to look at you.

You just hold her tighter, “Seeing you again has meant everything to me.”

She opens the locket and you both look at the strands of Nicky’s hair. She takes it out of it’s place, finding a small dandelion seed. Agatha sniffles and you bury your head in her shoulder. Your wings expand, wrapping around the both of you.

She looks between your wings and the seed, “Out of death, life.”

She lifts your face out of her shoulder, and swipes the small seed across your tear stained cheeks. She quickly buries it in a crack of the grounds foundation.

You watch as a dandelion quickly sprouts and the room begins to shake. You are quick to hop to your feet as the lights turn back on and the walls begins to shake. Dirt begins to fill the room, much like with your trial.

“What’s happening?”

“The trial is over, we can’t stay here, come on” you begin look towards the previously locked exit.

Agatha pushes the door, but it doesn’t budge. You join the effort to help her, but it’s like something is still blocking it.

“Stand back,” you push her behind you, ready to shoot your powers at the door.

Just as you’re about to blast it, the door is opens. You and Agatha rush through, covered in dirt

On the other side is the coven, who watch the two of stumble into Agatha’s backyard. Your back hits the grass and you close your eyes. You can’t remember the last time you were this relieved to be on the earth’s soil.

The peace doesn’t last long as Agatha tries to use her powers and it doesn't work.

“You have to be fucking kidding me? I WANT MY PRIZE,” Agatha exclaims.

You look at Billy from your spot on the floor, “What gives kid, everyone gets a prize, but her?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Rio ruffles the boy hair with a laugh, “Isn’t it obvious? Billy, conjured up the witches’ road.”

The other witches turn to him, with their jaws dropped. He begins to sputter and point wildly at you three, “Are we seriously going to believe them? Death, the Fallen Angel, and Agatha. What do they even know?”

“We know that the road was never real,” you say sitting up in your spot.

“But Agatha said she walked the road?” Alice points out.

“Is it surprising that she lied?” Jen chimes in.

“She didn’t lie,” Rio defends.

Your jaw clenches, you close your eyes and take a breath. You speak calmly, “Agatha, please… tell them truth about the road.”

She plays with the locket around her neck, “The ballad… I made it, with our son. That’s why I know it’s originally coven 2, it’s about me and him. It wasn’t even about witches, it was about the winding roads we used to have to travel.”

“What really happened to him?” Lilia is the one to ask.

Neither Agatha or Rio speak up. You bring your knees to your chest and face away from the coven, “Nicky, was born sick… he wasn't- he couldn’t. He was made from scratch. With tears of a fallen angel and a heartbeat from death.”

“Rotten ingredients,” Rio doesn’t hide the crack in her voice.

You nod, “Agatha was the only one who could provide him with flesh. It didn’t matter, how much with loved him. Our ingredients just never mixed well. Nicky wasn’t the first, but Agatha begged and pleaded.”

“And threatened,” Rio says quietly.

“Rio had already broken the rules for me. To do it again so soon, was a big risk for her.”

Alice was the one to ask, “What did you do?”

Rio bites her lip, “I could only give him time.”

You bury your head in your knees, “Being around him could’ve gotten Rio in trouble, so we all decided it would be best for us to keep our distance from Nicky.”

“How much time did he get?” Billy asks.

“He was only 6,” Agatha clutches the necklace harshly.

You bury yourself further into your knees as if it would protect you from her words. Rio looks at the ground, unable to relive this yet again.

The coven looks between the three of you, piecing the rest of it together. The tragedy of it all displayed across each one of your bodies.

“The one day I didn’t kill any witches, he died. I went on a rampage after that, I used the ballad to lure witches into my trap. Then I’d get them to attack me and drain them of their powers,” Agatha explains wiping her own tears.

“So that’s what you were going to do to us?” Billy asks, but his tone isn’t accusing.

“Pretty much,” she says with a bored tone.

Jen interrupts, “So you knew it was him the whole time, even with the sigil?”

“Well as soon as the road appeared, I had a hunch.”

They all begin to go back and forth about how it was all for nothing and unfair. The spew words of negativity at Agatha for hiding the truth from all of them. It doesn’t sit right with you or Rio.

“Are guys even listening to yourselves? Alice you aren’t cursed anymore, Lilia you’re done running from your powers, Jen you’re unbound, and Billy you reincarnated Tommy, all thanks to Agatha. So, what are you bitching about? She helped you all achieve what you wanted, whether you want to admit it or not,” Rio goes off on the group.

“She deserves this and as her coven you know that,” you say, getting to your feet.

“Fine, I’ll do it, just don’t kill me” Billy speaks up.

“Scouts honor,” Agatha says as Billy gears up to shoot her.

You stand next to Rio, leaning on her slightly. She wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you further into her side. She feels your eyes on her and meets them. You slowly glance over to Agatha and Billy and then back at her. She shakes her head and you nod to yourself.

When Billy shoots Agatha the coven gasp seeing Agatha’s power in real time, sucking the magic out of the boy.

“She’s going to kill him,” Alice mumbles under her breath.

“She won’t,” Lilia and Jen say at the same time.

Agatha hears them and subtly surprised by their confidence in her. Upon hearing it, she cuts the ties with Billy. He stumbles to the ground, but is quickly helped by the rest of the coven.

“Finally, everyone get what they wanted?” Rio claps her hands together.

The all hum in agreement.

“Great, now get out,” she points to the exit of the backyard.

It starts a commotion again as they start to talk over each other.

“SILENCE!” Your voice echoes causing them all to stop talking. “I get it, you’re a coven now, found family yay, etcetera, etcetera. As a familiar who has been separated from her witches, I would really hate for you to get in the way of what would be our first time alone together in centuries. That would really piss me off.”

They murmur in consensus.

“We’ll let you know when it’s ok to come over,” Agatha says shooing them away in the process.

They all pile into Billy’s car and the three of you wave them away. As soon as they pull off, you enter Agatha’s home.

“Well, now what?” Rio asks.

Agatha flicks her fingers replacing her dirt covered clothes, before doing the same to you.

“I don’t know about you, but my back has been begging for a mattress after sleeping on that awful ground,” Agatha cracks her back.

“Pillows,” you nod in agreement.

The three of you climb up the stairs to the bedroom. Once you’re inside, you fall face first into the middle of the bed. Moaning in pleasure as the bed melds to hold your body.

“I hope to hear more of that later,” Rio lays in the space to your right.

Agatha lays to your left, “Such a pretty sound, sweetheart.”

You groan, turning your head between the two women, “Yes, later we can do that, but now it’s time to sleep. So less talking, more cuddling.”

“It’s not even 5 pm.”

“I can go sleep on the couch if you want to argue with me,” you tell them.

“No,” they say in unison.

You smile, “That’s what, I thought. Now, hold me.”

Agatha and Rio’s fingers intertwine as they wrap their arms around you. It’s warm and safe, the horrors of the road, no longer haunting.

You too, had gotten what you wanted from the road. It was this. Rio and Agatha; you all back together. For a moment, having a simple domestic life.

You knew it wouldn’t last long, especially now that Agatha had her own little coven of chaos. Yet the thought of it made you smile. As long as the three of you were together, everything would work out alright.

[temiizpalace]

☆┊YOU DREAM OF ME??

SUMMARY: entering the dream world was such a strange feat.. especially seeing yourself in somebody else’s dream.

CHARACTERS: jade leech-centric

GENRE: fluff, crackfic

WARNINGS: you act cringe because jade leech is a cringy guy with wattpad fantasies + BOOK 7 SPOILERS + canon divergence (some dialogue is not exact cause i lowkey forgot, some moments didn’t actually happen, and i shortened it a lil so i don’t have to write too much)

NOTES: while writing this, it turns out someone else had a similar idea so i was hesitant to upload the writing. however, I’ve decided to anyways. that being said, crediting said individual is still in order since they had the idea first.

please check out @.paralleljoys post here (IF ANY ISSUES PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK, TY!)

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🐬∘˙

you didn’t expect this. nobody expected this, actually.

jade leech, cunning, observant, quiet, and mysterious. he was one to keep his cards close to his chest and play it safely to ensure the best outcomes. and yet, here we are, in said eels dreams. a look inside of his thoughts, how he truly saw people, how he—

“jade you’re so cool! i love love love love loveeee the way your mind works sooooo much!” a voice, sounding similarly to yours, chimed. “fufu, you flatter me, my pearl..”

your jaw dropped, grims jaw dropped, you can hear idia falling out of his seat from behind the screen, jamil’s eyes had never been opened wider, floyd cringed, silver looked away, ortho could barely compute, and sebek had the most genuine disgust written on his face.

was that you? you thought azul and floyd looked stupid, BUT THAT WAS YOU? jamil slapped a hand over grims mouth, preventing the direbeast from cackling his lungs out at the sight of your pathetic image. “MYAHAHA, HENCHMAN YOU LOOK SO STUPI—“ “keep quiet.” jamil mutters, slightly smirking. you could tell he was also containing his laughter, making your face change in hue.

“eww, no way. i knew jade was all lovey dovey with the prefect but i dont wanna watch it. what a sap.” floyd groans, looking at dream you, real you, then at jade. “i dont wanna watch this either! if you guys are embarrassed how do you think i feel?!” you murmur, hiding your face in shame.

“my pearl, open wide.” jade grins, holding a piece of shrimp in his hands. “oh my, jade you sweetheart!” you giggle, opening your mouth so jade can feed you. idia snickers, holding back a laugh. you can practically see his smug expression in your mind. “he has the fantasies of a trashy middle school fanfiction, what comedy gold.”

silver clears his throat, trying to regain the attention of the group in order to free jade from his dream. while everyone with a logical mind held an equally logical discussion, you, floyd, and grim were too focused on the scene before you. “jade, you and shrimpy should just get married.” dream floyd grins, pushing you two together.

“agreed. you both are a match made in heaven!” dream azul says in between sobs, wiping his tears away with one of his tentacles. “why, what a splendid idea! azul, please make arrangements right away. we shall wed at once, my dear.” jade chuckles, holding you close in his arms. “j-jade!? i don’t know what to say..”

“do you not wish to marry me?” he asks, his thumb tracing your chin. his voice was low, yet soothing at the same time. “it’s not like i don’t want to..” dream you mumbles, avoiding his eyes by looking at the ground with a pout. REAL you, on the other hand, can’t bear the sight of it anymore. neither can floyd. or grim.

“let’s continue to overcome hardships and conquer many mountains together.” jade laughs, pulling you all in by the shoulders. as the dream variants of jades loved ones cheer, floyd swims in and swoops down, attacking his brother and his dumbed down dream him.

“I CANNOT STAND IT ANYMORE!” floyd grunts, scowling at his dear brother, who held an expression of shock. “f-floyd? there’s two of you..?!” he stutters, looking at his dream twin and his actual twin. “they’re mirror images of each other! how can you tell them apart!” azul exclaims, wiping his eyes to get a better look.

“who is this? can i hug you and eat you? hehe.”

“i originally thought you weren’t interested in other people, but you have a limited memory. “i dont eat dance and eat shrimps stuck in between rocks.” floyd scoffs, staring at his dumbfounded doppelgänger. “floyd.. doesn’t eat shrimps.. or dance..?” jade ponders, feeling his mind begin to waver.

“jade! im scared!” dream you screams, curling up in the boys arms. your eyebrow twitches, tired of the humiliation you witnessed thanks to jades horrible imagination. following your impulse, you run out with floyd, despite the shouts of your name.

“PREFECT! GET BACK HERE! WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU TRYING TO ACHIEVE?!” sebek shouts, but his voice falls on deaf ears. he made a point though, what were you doing? it’d be much safer to just stay back and watch this play out, so why the hell are you trying to get involved?! “p-pearl?!” jade gasps, eyes wide in disbelief.

“th-there’s also two of you.? what in the seven is going on here?” he swam back slowly, unraveling the scene before him. two brothers, two lovers (well not officially..), and a whole school of students that seem familiar, but unsure as to where.. you could tell jade was beginning to wake up! it’s only a matter of time..

“jade, don’t be fooled. floyd shouldn’t be that ugly bastard, he should be more innocent and cute. and look at [MC], they love you so much they don’t know what to do with themselves! don’t be tricked by that fraud.” azul sneers, pointing at you and floyd, much to your dismay. just taking a glance at floyd was enough to be able to tell he was this close to breaking every bone in dream azul’s body and frankly you don’t blame him.

“i see.. floyd has been very charming to his relatives and my pearl wouldn’t leave my side so quickly,” jade hesitates, glancing at his two brothers. “i should go. they all really need me.” he smiled politely, swimming towards what once looked like his loved ones, now forming into large piles of dark goo. as jade was nearly consumed by the darkness, floyd swims past quickly. you stood on the eels back, landing a hit on dumb dumb floyd, crybaby azul, and cringe wattpad you.

“I DO NOT SOUND LIKE THAT.” you finally yell, catching nearly everyone’s attention. “it’s no use. we have to help out.” jamil sighs, lifting his magic pen. “let’s go!” silver shouts, rushing into the spot where you and floyd had already began your attack. as the fight rages on, the others serving as a distraction for jade, floyd had continued to land hits on the watered down versions of yourselves with ease before they finally shouted for help.

“it hurts! help us, jade!” dream floyd cries. “rescue us, jade!” azul cries. “oww! protect us, jade!” dream you screams, finally catching his attention. “how dare you! you fake. get behind me, i got this.” jade hisses, attacking floyd directly. you felt your balance falter on floyd’s back, slipping before falling near the vents. “prefect!” ortho shouts, rushing over to catch you til you fell into jamil’s arms safely. “it’s not safe, the vents are crumbling due to the fighting. retreat for now!” he directs, running towards a safer location.

“your carelessness nearly got you killed, prefect.” jamil sighs, looking down at you with a concerned yet tired expression. “sorry, i just couldn’t take it anymore!” you groan, crossing your arms angrily. “you can set me down now, jamil.” you pat his arm, breaking him from his daze. “..right.” he mutters, placing you down gently. they began to discuss different ways to wake up jade, before sebek finally settled on just electrocuting them.

“be careful, sebek.” silver reminds him, patting his shoulder before the boy ran out. “pierce the cloudy sky, lightning! living bolt!”

the tweels stop their fighting, electricity trickling all over their body leaving them temporarily paralyzed and passed out. after a few moments, their eyes fluttered open, being met with millions of other stares. “jade!” azul shouts, pushing floyd at the way with a grunt. “thank goodness you’re alive! i could’ve lost my cute subordinate!” he sniffles, causing jades eyebrow to raise. “..cute subordinate?”

“i’ll cry if jade is gone! don’t go anywhere!” dream floyd sighs with a dopey expression. “jade you idiot! you could’ve gotten seriously hurt and id never forgive you!” dream you sobs, rushing over to hold his hand hastily. “hm. that’s strange. the floyd and azul i know would never say something like that.” jade scoffs, looking at the two with disgust.

“huh?” they gasp, staring at him as if he said something crazy. “was sebek’s lightning so powerful, jade is finally starting to awaken?” silver mumbles, raising a finger to his chin. “awaken.. why am i here in the first place..?” jade groans, recollecting his thoughts slowly. “so.. i am a student at night raven college.. on land? agh.”

“my head feels like it’s going to split!” he winces in pain, holding his head as he shouts. all his memories finally began to come back to him, all the moments he had during the year turning the gears in his mind til he was finally back to his senses. “how could i possibly have forgotten something so important?” he huffs, looking back at the doppelgängers behind him.

“floyd would never act so obedient, he’s much more domineering. azul would give orders to others without putting himself in danger as much as possible.” he pauses for a moment, staring at your fake before shaking his head. “[MC] would have never acted so defenseless. what an embarrassing feat. i was acting quite strange.” jade sighs, turning his back towards the trio.

they had all began to complain to jade, asking why he would believe such fake things. dream you broke into tears, curling in floyds arms with a sob. jade would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous, but it’s not the real you so he’ll hold back. a little. they all clung onto jade, begging him to reconsider his decision before he finally spared them a word.

“can you please not touch me? creepy.” with a quick slash, the floyd and azul clones were reduced to goo. jade looked at the fake you, slightly hesitating at your trembling figure. alas, they were spared no expense and fell back into the darkness, crying his name and dragging out each syllable.

“no mercy..” idia stuttered, chewing on his nail. “he was protecting them with his life, only to end them once he realized they were fake.” jamil states, scratching his chin while replaying the scene back in his head. “scary..” idia murmurs. “finally awake, jade?” floyd punches his brothers arm, earning a chuckle. “yes, thank you.”

they share a laugh before hitting each other suddenly, startling each and every one of you. “floyd, you dare have hurt your own brother? i thought my whole body was going to fall apart. have you no mercy on your own blood? how terrible.” jade wiped away a tear, floyd not buying it for a single second.

“jade leech.” his banter was cut short by the sounds of your voice, your stern tone telling that this will not end well for him. “w-why, [MC]! how might i be of service.?” jade smiles, remaining his composure well. “don’t “how might i be of service” me! you have some serious explanation to do once we’re out of this stupid dream.” you scowl, staring him down with an intimidating glare.

jade, seemed unfazed. he was certainly embarrassed, but who is he to let it show? “oh dear, is it quite wrong for one to dream of their mate while asleep?” he shakes his head, catching you off guard. “mate?” everyone collectively questions. “uhm, yeah. do you guys not notice?” floyd scratches the back of his neck as if it were the most obvious thing.

what the hell is he talking about? mate? what.. when? that’s.. it’s not possible. “what are you on about, leech?” you sneer, causing him to grab your hand with a smile. “would you care for me to show you?” he grins teasingly, pulling you in til you rested on his chest. “hey! why you—“

“enough. you two are more than free to discuss this mishap after malleus is defeated. right now, we’ve got bigger problems to focus on.” jamil frowns, separating you two from each other. “..right. im not done with you yet.” you glare at the eel in front of you, much to his amusement. “i look forward to it.”

despite the topic being held for later, you couldn’t help but let jade’s words and fantasies linger in your mind for a moment longer. the statements he had said, the actions he had performed, all of it made you feel.. special.

“he dreams of me?”

A/N: i got lazy at the end whoops. anyways what if i write a jamil one?? double anyways what if jamil and jade love triangl— *gunshots*

im not used to writing long fics for characters by themselves and i think you can tell

date published: 8/22/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Good fucking day, Robot enjoyers! Gaze upon the updated semi-accurate height comparison of Bumblebee across the multiverse.

This is an updated version of a chart I made a few months ago. I had gotten some feedback and then TFOne came out and I kinda had to update it. I also added a Gen 1 Optimus Prime for scale, for fun... no other reason... (edit: slight adjustment made, just corrected a slight mistake in the order)

I am also working on at least two more character charts and one universe chart, so hopefully I can finish those soon (for some fucking genius reason I decided to do the characters that show up EVERY FUCKING UNIVERSE so I'm s u f f e r i n g)

*PST! Optimus, Megatron, Shockwave, Soundwave, Ratchet, and Ironhide ones are done now*

Master Post

Listed Heights, Explanations, and Justifications below the cut, bc you couldn't shut me up if you tried and I had shit to say.

Gen 1 - ~10 feet (TFwiki says greater than 3 meters so I rounded up to the first whole number because round)

Netflix Cybertron Trilogy - ~10 feet (He looks identical to Gen 1 so... the reason his photo looks weird is because I couldn't find a good full body photo with him standing straight up facing the camera so I put two images together to make the worst looking photoshop job you have ever seen)

Earth Spark - ~10 feet (There is no confirmed height yet, but using this screen shot (see below) of him standing in front of a barn door, I was able to make a reasonable guess, bc I'm so smart.)

One V1 - ~13 feet (I am well aware of what the TFWiki says: 26.429 feet. And I fully reject that number. A: These numbers are sourced from the Walmart Promotional AR Experience that came out before the movie. B: There are three decimal points, and that number does not convert into a whole number in meters (which is originally what I thought was weird about it). C: The director has said that this movie is both canon to the LA movies and its own separate canon, and Bumblebee in both sets of LA movies does not exceed 20 feet tall. Ever. So, for sanity's sake, I have used the KCV numbers as my baseline. Bee grows when he gets his t-cog so shrink this one down a few feet. Look, I'm working on the Optimus chart rn, and one of the numbers from Beast Wars on the wiki was very observably wrong, and if I can dispute numbers older than me, I can dispute numbers 2 decades younger than me from fucking Walmart. Also, yes, his picture is 3 images sandwiched together)

Animated - 13 feet 3 Inches (There is no actual given heights, but in the comments of the previous version, @phoenix-inanis told me that they had done their own analysis of TFA heights and, gonna be real with you, I am blown away by all of their work and how detailed it is. Go marvel at how much work they put in -> https://phoenix-inanis.notion.site/TFA-Height-Chart-f6ad2960ca8c4c5b859ee4958723aaa4?pvs=4 )

One V2 - ~15 Feet (Please see reasoning above. Since this is as tall as we see Bee get, he's the same height as KCV Bee. Sweet fuck, I have put way too much effort into this shit)

Knight/Capel-Verse - 15 feet (No actual numbers, but Mirage is stated to be 15 feet tall (TFWiki), and he and Bee are like the same height, so... Capel directed the ROTB movie if you're wondering why his name is there)

Bayverse V1 - 16 feet (TFWiki. This is like the first 3 movies minimum, I don't remember when he hits his growth spurt. Also mr bay is king, we have numbers for nearly every character in BV)

Cyberverse - 18 feet (I'm gonna be honest, the only info we have is from a really shitty screen shot of a magazine. SO if any one has a copy of this book from the video below, a high quality scan would be greatly appreciated and I will kiss the ground you walk upon. Yes I found the video where the screen shot comes from leave me alone)

Bayverse V2 - 18 feet (TFWiki. Movie 4-5 I can't remember which one, I'm not re-looking this up. I fucking love the bayverse tho, this is the only universe with concrete and consistent this-character-is-this-height info)

Aligned Cont. WF/FOC - 20 feet (TFWiki/Fandom. Video game info screens you godsend, kiss me sweetly)

Aligned Cont. TFP/RID15 - 21 feet (These two designs are canonically identical, like in ALC canon, Bee has not changed visually at all...Ok, yes I got this number from fandom and they give literally no source for where they got these numbers. But, I can fully believe these are accurate. Just by looking at these characters on the show I can verify these numbers in my mind. Here, let's Compare.

This is Sam compared to Bee from one of the BV movies, I'm too lazy to check which one. Sam is average size for a human and we know Bee is 16 feet tall in the first three movies. Checks out. Let's now look at a TFP Character who is also 16 feet tall.

Jack is average size for a human, and the size difference is about the same. Can you see why I can't question the Aligned heights, even if they don't have a source??!?! They specifically made this universe to be full of freakishly tall robots for some fucking reason.)

Not Pictured: Aligned Cont. Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Academy Bumblebee - 21 Feet tall. Look, did you want to see all 5 versions of ALC Bee? No, you don't. They're all the same height anyway; the back row would have just been a wall of redundant yellow. 5 different fucking art styles in one universe, why is that one my favourite.

Here's the front row and the back row separated into their own jpgs. I know it's kind of hard to tell which Bumblebee is which when they're all together.

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: burnt french toast

masterlist

backstage!

• satoru gojo helping out his students to the higher ups in every universe

• public apology on main? oh bros down BAD

• cue the pining and yearning arc😍

• toge and panda were laughing at all the videos of megumi in the taco bell parking lot😭

• toge def retweeted his fav ones on main and then got told off by gojo LMFAO

• i feel like nobara has used that reaction image before but idgaf ITS TRUE AND REAL

• PLEASE TELL ME YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABT WITH THE SANTA EDITS

• santa im writing to you because i want a pink pony for christmas…

• maki saying butch is canon

• i know she runs mcdonald’s like it’s the navy🫡

• the hate for kit connor has me seething

• no i haven’t watched heartstopper and i don’t plan to

• maki & nobara ARENT as mad this time bc like they know yn won’t do anything stupid and plus ig it’s justified… i think?

• the guys actually…. bonding?

• tridant not fighting for once*NOT CLICKBAIT*

• is this the bromance we’ve all been waiting for?

• this truely is my she’s just a phase😍🫰

• shakes magic 8 ball the stars say sukuna wants me bad !!! come here baby i’ll eat ur burnt french toast💔

a/n: ok maybe i over exaggerated how bad it was gonna be just a tad bit… 🤗 i was gonna initially have a written part for yn and sukuna but it just felt WRONG lmfao like it lowkey sounded like the megumi one so no thank you !! :/ also i know the party girls gc is LONG but its much needed i think !! anyways sorry it’s late u guys know me i’m never on time w posting :3 happy sjap saturday !!

taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[prettylilyanime]

Blooming Hearts ♡ Chapter 05

˚✿˖ Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem reader

˚✿˖ Synopsis: All your life, you’ve had it all—wealth, beauty, and a quirk good enough to secure your spot at UA. But after three years, you still feel more like an outsider than a future hero. Social life? Barely existent. Friends? Who needs them? You’re ready to coast through your final year solo… until fate lands you squarely in the lap of a certain hot-headed blonde—literally.

˚✿˖ tags/warnings: 18+, smut in the later chapters, reader is spoiled, shy reader, they're all third years at UA, Fluff, strangers? to lovers trope, not really strangers, miscommunication, drama, y/n just wants to make friends, reader is canonically pretty, reader is a hero in training, whipped bakugou, she falls first but he falls harder

˚✿˖ Authors note: subtle yn lore gets dropped here…

˚✿˖ Masterlist ♡ Previous ♡ Next

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

After Bakugou had been generous enough to help haul in your endless pile of boxes—a consequence of your admittedly irresponsible spending—it seemed he decided to spare you further torment by announcing his departure.

Something about heading to the training arena to "get some real work done."

Not that his presence was bad.

No, it was torturous in the best way possible!

The I-want-him-to-stay-in-my-room-forever-and-keep-calling-me-princess kind of way.

Did that sound crazy?

Even with your ever-growing crush on the blonde, you couldn’t deny the wave of relief that washed over you at his exit.

He’d seen you like this—flustered, fumbling, barely holding yourself together—had even insisted you put on those stupid glasses, and yet…

Somehow, it wasn’t as horrible as you expected.

A warm flutter settled in your chest at the realization. He hadn’t cared about your appearance, hadn’t picked you apart like so many others had. It was a refreshing change from the judgment you’d grown used to.

You never quite understood why people felt so comfortable talking about your looks.

You barely felt comfortable talking to people, period.

And yet, strangers—people who didn’t know a thing about you—felt entitled to comment.

Your figure was amazing. Your hair looked great. What diets had you gone on?

God…

Bakugou didn’t seem to care about any of that.

His focus had been on your vision—or lack thereof. A stupid little thing, but the fact that he didn't seem to care about your looks made your stomach twist in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Now, left alone in the quiet of your room, you sat cross-legged on your bed, manicured fingers scrolling through your phone.

Your official account, @OfficiallyFlora, gleamed on the screen. The blue checkmark beside your username felt more like a weight than an accomplishment.

Your profile picture, an overly polished shot of you in your glittering hero costume—stared back at you. The flawless image, taken against a pristine white backdrop, was the product of your mother’s money and marketing efforts.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

Too pretty. Too refined. Too far from the girl sitting here now, sock clad in her bedroom, still reeling from the lingering scent of caramel and smoke that Bakugou had left behind.

Are your teeth really even that white in person?

You don’t know…

Your bio reads: Official Page of Pro-Hero Prospect Flora, making your hearts bloom with every step towards justice!

You sighed, rolling your eyes hard enough to strain something. The bio had been written by your mother’s PR team, dripping with saccharine energy that made you cringe every time you read it.

The rest of your feed wasn’t much better: high-definition shots of battles, cherry blossom-themed merch promotions, and glamorous magazine features.

It was a glossy, manufactured version of you that bore little resemblance to the person staring at the screen, glasses perpetually sliding down her nose.

Growing bored of the staged content, you switched to your private account.

Your followers on this one are, well. Your classmates, surprisingly enough, and one of your mother's pool boys who had asked for your Instagram years ago before you ever even had an official page in hopes of getting to talk to you more?!

You can't help but quirk a brow, you should really get him off your page...

Here, the photos were more personal: snapshots of your travels, close-ups of meals you’d enjoyed, and a random assortment of things that caught your eye.

The likes rarely climb beyond single digits, but it was real and a better representation of yourself than the other page.

A pang of curiosity struck as your fingers moved on autopilot, typing in Bakugou’s name.

His official account, curated by Best Jeanist’s team, popped up first. His posts were as structured as yours—action shots, hero promotions, and carefully orchestrated PR moves.

But unlike how you felt about your feed, his action shots were breathtaking.

One image, in particular, caught your attention: Bakugou holding a tiny kitten that had been stuck in a tree. His sharp features softened as he cradled the fluffy creature, his biceps bulging against his hero suit.

You snorted, amused by the juxtaposition. No matter how intimidating he looked, the sight of him with a kitten was almost too much.

Shaking your head, you scrolled through some of your classmates’ accounts. Their updates showed them at the beach, enjoying pizza nights, and huddled around a glowing campfire.

Seems like without Bakugou around to act as head chef, they had to order takeout instead.

You frowned, an unshakable pit forming in your stomach.

You drop your phone onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. Maybe what you needed was a nice meal—something indulgent to shake off the restless energy.

The thought of heading to the nearest convenience store for another pint of ice cream crosses your mind, the idea warm and tempting. But no.

Not this time.

Instead, maybe you could make an effort. Doll yourself up a bit, put on some makeup, and head out into town. Who needs a big group when you’ve got yourself?

Determined to follow through, you sit up and scan the endless boxes of your new purchases. Finally, you land on a little buttercup-yellow tweed Chanel set, complete with a mini skirt and cropped blazer.

You slip it on, the fabric hugging your figure perfectly and highlighting your silhouette in all the right places.

Hell, for this price point, it better do all of the above!

You turn to your vanity, reaching for your makeup bag. You opt for a soft, casual look—subtle yet radiant, with just enough shimmer to catch the light. Twinkly in all the right places.

To complete the look, you sling a new ivory-colored purse over your shoulder. A cute yellow dandelion charm clipped to the side adds just the right touch of cuteness.

Standing in front of the mirror, you take a moment to admire your reflection. You look polished, confident, like someone ready to take on the evening—even if it’s a solo adventure.

Maybe you’d check out that new sushi spot closer to home!

Yeah, it’s fine that your classmates wouldn’t join you! They'd probably just make you more anxious anyways.

But as you’re heading downstairs and toward the door, you suddenly freeze. A realization dawns on you.

Hajime has the weekend off.

You groan out loud. How are you going to get there? You can’t drive!

Frustration bubbles up, and you slap your forehead. Were you really this helpless? The thought makes you wince, embarrassment creeping in at the edges of your thoughts.

"If I speak, you gonna jump and scream again?" A voice, an irritatingly familiar voice announces his presence.

The familiar gruff voice startles you, and admittedly, you do almost scream. Holding it back though, you whirl around to see Bakugou having just walked out of the elevator behind you.

He seems freshly showered, with his hair still a bit damp, out and pushed back from his handsome face. You could smell him from where you're standing.

Ugh, delicious as usual.

“You did kind of surprise me,” you admit, voice sheepish as your eyes dart away from him.

His eyes roam over your figure quickly, though you don't notice the action over your own mourning of the evening.

“You’re going out?”

The question leaves his mouth before he can stop it, and if he could, he’d smack himself upside the head. Why the hell did he even ask? It’s obvious you are. And more importantly—why is he even starting a conversation in the first place?

Up until literally yesterday, you were just another classmate. Background noise. But these back-to-back interactions are becoming unavoidable, and unfortunately, you’re slipping out of the backdrop and into his world.

You shake your head, lips pulling into a soft, resigned smile. “Well, I was going to, but… I just realized I don’t have any way of getting there.”

“Hah? Can’t take the train?”

Heat blooms across your face, creeping down your neck. “Oh, well… I’ve never taken public transportation.”

There’s a beat of silence—just long enough for you to see the exact moment Bakugou short-circuits.

“Is that some shitty joke?”

You thought your cheeks couldn’t possibly burn hotter, but—oh, look at that! They can!

“I- um, well, no. It’s not.” You swallow, fiddling with the strap of your ivory purse. “Hajime’s driven me everywhere since I was little.”

He blinks, slowly. More in disbelief than anything.

“Hajime?”

You nod. “Yeah, um… my personal driver.”

For a second, you think he might actually roll his eyes. On anyone else, the whole spoiled rich kid routine would piss him off. But with you, it’s different.

Maybe it’s the way you look so flustered, like you’re embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe it’s the way your voice dips, like you’re apologizing for just existing.

Either way, it leaves him feeling something weird—something dangerously close to wanting to help. Again.

Twice in one day. A world record, if he says so himself.

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”

You wince, shoulders curling inward. “I know! It’s bad, okay? But it’s just how I was raised…”

How you were raised?

Bakugou’s brow lifts slightly. So what, you were raised to be a stay-at-home daughter? Spend money like it’s a full-time job?

He knows about your family. Everyone does.

A mother who inherited an entire hero firm from your grandparents—a dynasty so powerful its stocks and investments practically fuel Japan’s economy. And a father who died in the field before you were even born—a rising star in the hero world, gone far too soon.

Your mother, a young heiress to millions. Your father, a pro hero at the height of his career. Expecting their first child. A baby girl—you.

And then, just like that, it all came crashing down.

A mission gone wrong.

A hero lost.

Your father’s death sent shockwaves through the country, leaving Japan in mourning—not just for the man he was, but for the legend he never got the chance to become.

He doesn’t say anything right away—just stares at you with an unreadable expression that makes your stomach churn.

Then, without warning, he mutters, “Get your stuff. We’re going.”

Your head snaps up. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.” He’s already pulling on his sneakers, his movements brisk and determined. “No way in hell am I letting you graduate from U.A. without knowing how to take a damn train. That’s pathetic.”

“Bakugou, you really don’t have to—”

“Second time today.” He cuts you off with a sharp look over his shoulder. “It’s already happening. Move it, princess.”

Your mouth opens, ready to argue—but the words die in your throat when you see the set of his jaw, the fire in his gaze. He’s not going to back down.

You’re not sure what’s more overwhelming—the idea of taking your first train ride…

Or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one dragging you along for the ride.

You gulp, hurrying after him as he strides out of the dormitory, his natural pace effortlessly long and brisk. You almost trip trying to keep up, the heels of your boots clicking against the pavement.

God, why does he walk so fast?

“We’ve got a station down the block from the UA gates,” he says, barely glancing at you. “We’ll go to that one.”

You nod, stiff as a board. “Gotcha. So, um… where did you want to go?”

His blonde brow arches, the side of his lip curling like you just said something unbelievably stupid. “What? This isn’t about me. This is about teaching you how to get on a damn train.”

You wince, embarrassed. “Right. That makes sense.”

The two of you walk in relative silence, the crisp evening air settling over you like a thin veil.

The streets leading to the station aren’t crowded, but there are enough people out that you can feel the occasional passing glance—whether they recognize you as a hero-in-training or simply because you look like you don’t belong in a place as mundane as a train station, you’re not sure.

Your perfectly tailored blazer, Italian leather purse, and neatly manicured nails feel almost too polished for the scuffed pavement beneath your feet.

Bakugou, on the other hand, fits in seamlessly.

His hands are shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, his comfy sweatpants loose around his legs and tight at his waist.

He looks completely at ease, like this is just another part of his day—meanwhile, your heartbeat is rattling in your ears at the thought of navigating a train station for the first time.

After a few minutes, you reach the station entrance, the underground stairway yawning open before you. A few commuters shuffle past, swiping their cards at the turnstiles, moving like they’ve done this a million times.

You, however, stay frozen at the top of the stairs.

Bakugou doesn’t notice at first, too busy pulling out his own train pass. But when he looks up and sees you still standing there, brows drawn tight with hesitation, he sighs.

“Seriously?” He tilts his head, exasperation flickering in his red eyes. “It’s just a staircase, princess.”

“I know it’s just a staircase,” you huff, crossing your arms. “I just—” You hesitate, glancing down at the tiled steps leading into the station.

You’ve never been in one of these before, never had to navigate the organized chaos of public transport, never had to think about swiping a train card or picking a route.

A ridiculous thought hits you—you’re not sure what’s more embarrassing: the fact that you don’t know how to take a train… or the fact that Bakugou Katsuki is the one who has to teach you.

You bite your lip, it's silly and you know it. “What if I mess up?”

Bakugou stares at you for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he snorts.

“With that attitude, you’re definitely gonna mess up. Sour face you got going on”

Your jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

His smirk is almost smug. “But that’s the whole damn point. You mess up, you figure it out, and then you won’t be a clueless dumbass next time.”

You scowl. “Your motivational speeches suck.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes before nudging your shoulder—just a small push, barely enough to make you step forward, but it’s enough to shake you out of your own head.

“Come on,” he mutters, starting down the stairs. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You inhale sharply and, with no other choice, follow him down.

The air shifts as you descend—cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of rails and the distant hum of an approaching train. Your grip tightens around the strap of your purse, nerves bubbling in your chest.

Why is everything so loud down here?!

Bakugou moves ahead, seamlessly navigating through the turnstiles. He scans his card with an effortless flick of his wrist, stepping through without hesitation.

You, on the other hand, stop in front of the machine, frowning at it like it’s a puzzle you weren’t given the pieces to.

Bakugou turns, watching you expectantly.

“Well?” he drawls.

You glance at the screen, then back at your card. “Do I just… tap it?”

“No, you rub it on the damn thing and hope it opens.”

Your glare is sharp, but you say nothing, instead hesitantly pressing the card against the sensor. The gate beeps, unlocking with a mechanical click.

You blink. That’s it?

“Wow, you did it.” Bakugou’s tone is mockingly slow, like he’s congratulating a toddler for taking their first steps.

You don’t know how, when, or what possesses you with a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, your hand reaches out, shoving his shoulder.

His muscled frame barely budges under your touch, solid beneath the fabric of his hoodie.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He snorts, a short chuckle slipping out as he steps toward the platform, the train’s arrival chime ringing through the station.

Then, as you approach the edge of the platform, a realization slams into you like a ton of bricks.

“…Wait.” You stop in your tracks, eyes widening. “How do I know which train to take?”

Bakugou exhales so deeply it sounds like his soul is actively trying to escape his body.

“God help me.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his jaw tightening as if he’s physically restraining himself from saying something he’ll regret.

For the first time today, you swear he actually looks pained.

Oh lord. Oh good grief. If you were just about anybody else right now, Bakugou wouldn’t just be snapping—he’d be out of here so fast, you’d be left choking on smoke.

The fact that a pro-hero-in-training, someone who’s supposed to be saving lives, has never taken a damn train is the kind of thing that should be illegal.

So why is he still here?

Why hasn’t he turned on his heel, thrown up his hands, and left you to fend for yourself like any rational, self-respecting person would?

He blinks, his gaze lingering on your face, and for a brief moment—so fast you almost miss it—you swear there’s something unreadable flickering behind those sharp red eyes.

Maybe it’s the way your lashes frame your doe-like eyes, dark and long, casting delicate shadows across your cheeks. Curse you and your stupid, stupid eyes. Is this some kind of second quirk? A hypnosis ability?

Or maybe—just maybe—it’s the way you fidget without realizing it.

Your hands twist together, fingers tangling like they’re trying to hold onto something steady.

Absentmindedly, you twirl the diamond-encrusted eternity band on your index finger, turning it over and over in a nervous rhythm. It catches the dim station light, flashing every time you spin it.

Bakugou’s gaze follows the movement, and something about the unconscious gesture makes his scowl deepen.

“…Tch.” He clicks his tongue, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “You really are helpless, huh?”

The words are gruff, edged with frustration, but he still doesn’t walk away.

Instead, he takes a step toward you, nodding toward the digital display overhead. The glowing letters flicker slightly, listing station names, times, and train lines in a way that makes your head spin.

“C’mon, dumbass. I’ll show you how to read the damn schedule before you get yourself lost in the middle of the city.”

Relief washes over you as you quickly follow his lead. “Ah, thank you!”

“Don’t thank me… just pay attention.”

And you do. You pay such good attention that by the time you finally grasp how the whole system works, you’re practically bouncing on your heels in excitement, a bright grin stretching across your face.

You stand on the platform, buzzing with a newfound confidence, while Bakugou—looking as perpetually unimpressed as ever—waits beside you with his hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets.

Then, the distant hum of the train grows louder, and soon enough, the sleek cars pull into the station with a sharp metallic whir.

The doors slide open, and you eagerly step forward, your heeled boots clicking against the platform as you move inside. Bakugou follows closely behind, scanning the interior in one quick glance.

The train is relatively full—enough that only one open seat remains near the doors. Without hesitation, Bakugou nudges you toward it.

“Sit,” he says gruffly, grabbing onto the nearest safety pole as the doors begin to close.

You shake your head, brushing him off. “I’m okay.”

He scoffs, tilting his chin toward your feet. “The train moves fast and isn’t super smooth. I’m sure you don’t wanna go through all that with those on.”

You glance down at your shoes—sleek, heeled boots, stylish but sturdy. Your lips curve into a small smile.

“I’ll have you know my hero costume boots are even higher than these.”

His brow arches slightly, the hint of sarcasm sparking in his eyes. “Yeah? I’m impressed, considering how fast you ran away from me on day one.”

Oh, hell.

Heat creeps up your neck at the reminder, your confidence faltering for a split second. But you recover quickly, squaring your shoulders with a dramatic huff.

“Wow, Bakugou Katsuki, impressed? By little ol’ me?” You place a hand over your heart, feigning exaggerated awe. “It’s an honor.”

He snorts, shaking his head, but there’s something unreadable in the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment longer.

Then, the train lurches forward.

Despite all your earlier bravado, you do wobble slightly—just enough for Bakugou’s smirk to return in full force.

“…Told you to sit, dumbass.”

But you can’t.

Not because you’re too stubborn. Not because you’re still trying to prove a point.

But because—oh.

A singular, large hand is suddenly tight on your waist, steadying you with an effortless grip.

Oh my.

Who needs a safety rail when Pro Hero Dynamight is holding you like this?!

You internally scream, the realization hitting you all at once. The touch itself isn’t anything crazy—it’s barely even a thing, just a reflex, something automatic, instinctual. Nothing compared to the absolute torture of this morning’s, uh, straddling situation.

And yet, this feels just as bad—if not worse.

Why? Because Bakugou, in all his brash, loud, obnoxious glory, doesn’t even seem to realize he’s still holding onto you.

His grip is firm, warm even through the thick expensive fabric of your clothes, and worst of all? It lingers.

Still there.

Still present.

Still burning through your skin like a brand.

Oh, hell.

⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖°⋆˚✿˖

[kxsagi]

“𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲”

otoya had a reputation, a notorious one. if there was a girl within a ten-mile radius, best believe he was out here dropping "you look familiar, have we met before?" like it was his personal slogan. you, his girlfriend, had tolerated it for far too long, but when you caught him giggling at some girl's instagram story reaction, you saw red. 

“you wanna act like you're single? bet. you are single," you texted before blocking him on everything. 

otoya? oh, he panicked. 

so, naturally, he did what any man in distress would do: grand gesture with maximum embarrassment. 

the next day, he pulled up to the most crowded place in town, the starbucks parking lot, strapped with his JBL Xtreme 3, bass boosted to the max. with his hoodie up like a heartbroken soundcloud rapper, he pressed play. 

♪ "i want you to be mine again, baby…" ♪ 

fetty wap’s voice BOOMED through the air like a personal attack on every innocent bystander just trying to enjoy their caramel macchiatos in peace. 

heads turned. people stared. a dog barked. 

but otoya didn’t care. he stood there, dramatically holding the speaker above his head like a tik tok romeo, scanning the crowd for you. 

and then, like his “source” had told him, there you were. 

you. sitting outside with your iced coffee, sunglasses on, ignoring him like he was nothing but a background character in your life. 

he took a deep breath and yelled out your name. “PLEASE! I’M A CHANGED MAN!” 

you took a slow sip of your drink. “oh, word?” 

otoya nodded aggressively. "I DELETED SNAPCHAT FOR YOU!" 

the crowd gasped. someone whispered, “that’s real.” 

you squinted at him. "and the 'close friends' list on instagram?" 

"... gone." 

a dramatic silence fell over the parking lot. even the barista inside stopped mid-order. 

you finally stood up, crossed your arms, and sighed. “fine. but if you even THINK about sending another ‘wyd’ text past 11 PM –” 

"I WON’T! I SWEAR!" 

you rolled your eyes and grabbed his speaker, pausing the music. “come on, romeo. let’s get out of here before someone records this.” 

otoya grinned, slinging an arm around you. the crowd erupted in cheers. someone threw a cake pop at him. 

and as they walked away, the speaker accidentally unpaused. 

♪ "i know my lifestyle is driving you crazy…" ♪ 

you smacked the pause button again. "don't push it, otoya." 

and thus, balance was (temporarily) restored. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: THIS IS CANON DON’T LIE (header image credits go to @_266hr on twitter)

[awearywritersworld]

the three times gojo thinks he might be in love and the time he knows for sure

gojo satoru x reader summary: title says it all w/c: 1k tags/warnings: ft baby megumi. fluff, then some more fluff. gumi refers to reader as mom. one curse word. brief reference to canon typical violence. a/n: i am ridiculously soft for this man. he needs a hug masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

the first time it happens, it's the dead of winter and you're both still teenagers. it's the year before the star plasma vessel mission, when everything in gojo's life feels like it's falling into place. he has friends, real friends, for the first time in his life.

you drag him, kicking and screaming (it's all for show, he'd go anywhere with you), out to a snow covered field. you innocently beg him to turn off limitless, and of course he acquiesces, only to be pelted in the face with a snowball.

he throws himself into the snow upon impact, arms flailing dramatically. "i'm dead! you've killed me!"

you join him on the ground, arms out stretched and nudging the fabric of his coat. "hm, then i guess i'll have to drink all the hot chocolate by myself-"

"i have returned to the living realm!!" he shouts, shooting up into a sitting position. "had to fight god for it, told 'im i couldn't bear to leave my (y/n)-chan!"

"oh, you are so full of shit," you accuse with an amused smile.

you gaze at one another as the snow falls around you silently, both somehow feeling warm despite the frigidness of the air. his glasses have slipped down his nose, giving you a glimpse at his eyes. you're thinking about how the flakes blend in with his lashes before melting away entirely. he's thinking that he might be in love with you.

~~~

some time passes before the second instance, which takes place in the spring. gojo makes his way around campus, looking for wherever you and megumi ran off to. the small boy has been attached to your hip ever since gojo brought him home two years ago.

when he finds you, you're both splayed out in the grass and pointing up at the clouds.

"that one looks like a dog!" megumi exclaims excitedly.

"and that one looks like it might be his ball, don't you think?" you question. he agrees wholeheartedly with an enthusiastic nod.

after awhile, megumi sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "can we go inside now, mom?"

there's a split second he doesn't realize what he's said, but when it dawns on him, he looks down right scared. "'m sorry!"

your features soften and your heart soars before you're gathering him up in your arms.

"oh, my sweet boy," you coo.

rocking him back and forth, you hold him for a few passing moments. he hides his face in your chest, his hands gripping onto your shirt as if it's his life line.

you pull away just enough to see his face. you'd do anything to stop the tears swimming in his eyes, just like any mother would. "you can call me whatever you like 'gumi."

"p-promise?"

"yup!" you assure, bopping his nose with your pointer finger. it earns a small giggle.

gojo watches as you rise from the ground, megumi's head now resting on your shoulder and his arms around your neck. you're humming as you walk back toward the buildings.

gojo's legs are like lead and his heart feels as if it's shifted up into his throat. for the first time, he thinks about getting married, about having a family. your face is at the forefront of every image that forces itself into his mind.

~~~

the third time happens in the dead of night. megumi is asleep and the two of you decide to watch a movie, but you're yawning before he even presses play.

you sit so close to him that you can feel the warmth radiate from his body and although you fight to keep your eyes open, you can't help but be lulled to sleep.

he tenses for a moment when your head lands squarely on his shoulder. it seems as if you're both frozen, but then you let out a soft snore as your body shifts and your hand moves to his stomach. he finally relaxes.

your hair had fallen across your face and he pushes it back behind your ear so that he can see you. he tries to ignore the urge to brush his fingers across your cheekbone, or over your bottom lip. he fails.

gojo remains still for hours, and it feels strange to the usually hyperactive man, but he's terrified of disturbing you. terrified that you'll pull away from him and he'll never get to feel like this again.

he lets that stupid movie play through twice, but he spends most of the time stealing glances at you. he does eventually turn the tv off and the only sounds that remain are the trill of summer crickets outside his window and your soft, slow breaths.

he has no idea what time it is when he falls asleep, but when he finally does, he dreams about that day in the snow.

~~~

leaves fall at your feet as the two of you make your way down the sidewalk. every now and then, your fingers brush against his and it makes his heart skip a beat. he wonders (hopes?) if anyone has mistaken you for a couple.

you come across a familiar mansion, one that the two of you exorcised together as teenagers. it feels like a lifetime ago. you stop at the gate, a bronze glint on the ground catching your eye.

crouching down, you brush away shades of orange and red to reveal a memorial for all the people who had died on the once cursed property.

"for the lives that were taken here, and for the lost soul who took them... may they rest now in the afterlife."

gojo scrunches his nose, about to make some comment about how pitiful it was to commemorate a cursed spirit, but the words die in his throat when you look up at him with watery eyes.

"this is so beautiful," you remark, turning back to the engraved words.

he shoves his hands in his pockets, peering down to read over the words once more. maybe he'd missed something?

"this community was so fearful, remember? people lost friends and family here." he nods even though you aren't looking at him, watching how your fingertips move across the words as if you're considering them further. "the spirit scared them and it stole from them, but they still regard it with sympathy and kindness.. it takes strength to do that, you know?"

he feels his chest tighten as he registers your words. for a fleeting instance, he feels like an asshole for ever finding it pitiful, but that was the thing. you have such an easy way about you, a sort of gentleness he had yet to find in anyone else. the time he spends in your company seems like the only respite he ever gets from the horrors of the world.

he hasn't answered you yet, so you look back to him expectantly. "don't you think it's beautiful, 'toru?"

god, he could fall to his knees right then and there. he could roll over and die on the chilly concrete and he'd consider it a privilege to have died by your side.

i love you. i love you. i love you. those are the only three words his brain can muster.

"yeah," he finally chokes out. "it really is."

[sanaexus]

social's as chigiri's girlfriend

-liked kuniisuke, nagi.seishiro and 155.6k others

yourusername: he lets me touch his hair i win losers

tagged: chigi.who

kuniisuke: yeah but i'm the one who he kicks balls with ↳hiyori: MATE. NO. ↳yourusername: yeah and i'm the one playing with his balls ↳karasu_tabito: okay what the fuck ↳chigi.who: not true please don't trust her ↳eita.otoya: you sure ab that princess? ↳yourusername: ew don't you have enough bitches already?

nikkoki: he looks so tired of you in the second picture ↳yourusername: YOU CAN'T EVEN SEE HIM WHAT ↳nikkoki: exactly. his annoyance radiates off the picture ↳yourusername: go back to crying like a lil wuss or something

user1: i love your eyelashes ↳yourusername: i love you ↳chigi.who: no you don't ↳yourusername: i'm a free independent woman with my own free will ↳chigi.who: icecream if you shut up ↳yourusername: ok ↳karasu_tabito: so you just buy her silence? ↳chigi.who: yes ↳yourusername: HE LETS ME TOUCH HIS HAIR TOO SO HONESTLY I'M WINNING ↳karasu_tabito: valid

kenyu.yukimiya: what the fuck is he doing in the first picture? ↳chigi.who: can't you see? ↳chigi.who: oh wait no nevermind he actually can't ↳yourusername: THAT'S SO RUDE?? SAY SORRY ↳chigi.who: i'm sorry that you're blind as a bat i guess ↳kenyu.yukimiya: fuck you

mikka.kaiser: why is everyone fucking everyone in this comment section ↳alexis.ness: could be us? ↳isaichii: no one's fucking

-liked by megubachi, reo.miikage and 163.9k others

yourusername: in a world full of boys he's a gentleman (the last image is me n him)

tagged: chigi.who

chigi.who: no that is not us what the fuck. ↳yourusername: aww hyo don't be shy ↳chigi.who: you like playing w my hair right? ↳yourusername: no i'm sorry+ i love you+ don't remove my hair touching privilege + i'm js a girl + don't be a hater

megubachi: the last image is canon (i was the chair) ↳yourusername: my real one fr ↳isaichii: bavjura i didrn except tjis frmo yoi ↳rin.itoshi: what ↳yourusername: "bachira i didn't expect this from you" ↳megubachi: you're still my number one ↳isaichii: sorry guys kaiser was chasing me around like a mad maniac ↳mikka.kaiser: come to papa ↳reo.miikage: what the fuck

nikkoki: was the last picture really necessary? ↳yourusername: are you really necessary ↳isaichii: throwback to the time when someone asked chigiri if his haircare was necessary and without any hesitation he went "are you really necessary" ↳shiidoryu: dk ab that but i can throw a back ↳chigi.who: did it once and i'll do it again

user2: you should date me instead i'll let you touch my hair ↳yourusername: oh emm gee let's go on a date to the park and we'll terrorize kids tgt !! ↳user2: ofc bae ↳chigi.who: i am that kid because what the fuck . ↳yourusername: 🙁 ↳chigi.who: ew ↳yourusername: BEO YOU BETTER FUCKING SLEEP WITH A EYE OPEB I'M GONNA FUCKING CHOP OFF YOU'RE HAIR STEAL YOUR SISTER AND THAN LIKE DRAW IN YOUR FACE ↳mikka.kaiser: bro* an* open* your* then* on* ↳shiidoryu: SHUT UP CAN YOU NOT ENJOY THE DRAMA W/O BEING AN GEEK FOR 2 MINUTES ↳alexis.ness: it's a geek and don't talk to kaiser like that you good for nothing zesty butt loving horny demon ↳itoshi_sae: please help he keeps touching my butt ↳shiidoryu: you're into that bae 😘

-liked by julian.loki, oliver.aiku and 211.5k others

chigi.who: i actually act like a normal boyfriend

tagged: yourusername

julian.loki: just how broad is normal in this situation? ↳yourusername: broader than yo mom ↳julian.loki: .. ↳julian.loki: ok i kinda maybe sorta might have laughed ↳yourusername: normal can mean pushing me off a swing or fighting w a 7 year old who was rude to me btw ↳oliver.aiku: bro got bullied by a 7 year old ↳yourusername: you got cooked by a guy who does puzzles btw ↳oliver.aiku: bye

yourusername: i'm spiderman (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT 3AM CHALLENGE GONE WRONG 🙀🙀😱😱💯💯) ↳rin.itoshi: weren't you batman? ↳yourusername: shhhh that's a secret ↳megubachi: I'M BATMAN??? ↳yourusername: no but you can be hello kitty ↳megubachi: deal

nagi.seishiro: how much we betting y/n fell of the roof on her ass ↳yourusername: RUDE !! I HOPE CHOKI DIES ↳nagi.seishiro: not cool dude :x ↳chigi.who: she did in fact actually fall on her ass ↳yourusername: ihy ↳chigi.who: not what you were saying last night ↳yourusername: I'M STILL A MINORR ↳eita.otoya: TRYNA STRIKE A CORD AND IT'S PROLLY A MINORRR ↳mikka.kaiser: drake fr got cooked ↳yourusername: so did you ↳karasu_tabito: drake x kaiser

yourusername: no but i fr love you ↳chigi.who: i know you do ↳yourusername: WOULD IT KILL TO TELL ME YOU LOVE ME BACK?? ↳chigi.who: i'm js a girl ↳kuniisuke: I FUCKING CALLED IT HE WAS TOO 💅💅 TO BE A SWEATY MAN WHO KICKED BALLS ↳reo.miikage: what ↳megubachi: wajt ↳isaichii: huh ↳hiyori: the fuck ↳mikka.kaiser: why ↳alexis.ness: what ↳eita.otoya: 💀 ↳karasu_tabito: w h a t . ↳rin.itoshi: what the actual fuck ↳shiidoryu: I FUCKING KNOW RIGHT ↳itosh_sae: no ↳barou.shoei: get help and sleep because it's 2 fucking am ↳chigi.who: :p

chigi.who: you're pretty ↳yourusername: i know

wellll that was mid asf i don't know how to write chigiri exactly if you can see but it's fine

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Mind Games (2)

Direct cntinuation to Mind games (til we lose control) (takes place before lost time)

Ben/Soldier Boy X Supe!Fem!reader

Summary: Herogasm proves to be a disaster for everyone involved, but at least you and Ben still have each other at the end of the night. Takes places during the Herogasm episode but like I did my own shit

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it mfs), p in v, shower sex (pls don't try to recreate this, SB has super strength, your man does not, you might break sum), oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie, dom!Soldier Boy, praising kink, Ben calls her mean things a lot (but she likes it), choking, hair pulling, spitting, Soldier Boy cause mf is a warning on his own, typical canonical violence for this show, no use of y/n, Violet isn't her real name, just a nickname.

WC: 6.9k I'm so sorry

A/N: WHAT DID I TELL YALL MFSSS. Took me 2 years to revisit it but yk what it's fine cause every year is Soldier Boy's year. So yeah here we are. I will warn yall im not too good at writing action/fight scenes, like it made sense in my head but idk if that image translated well into the scene. I only know how to write smut im sorry. But to my Ben/Jensen girlie's, this is for you. I'll see yall in hell <3

Gif is not mine I found it on Pinterest

Universe masterlist | I no longer have a tag list so if you'd like to keep up with updates follow @midnightreadinglibrary

Fucking Herogasm. Christ, you didn't remember the last time you were here. Funny, the last time you went to a Herogasm party it was coincidentally with Ben. And it was in fact the last one you ever went to. It never felt right to go back without him. 

"Fuckin' Herogasm," Butcher laughed and shook his head, glancing back at you with intrigue, "You ever been Violet?" 

Your lips curled up a bit and you licked your lips slowly, glancing at Ben for a second before you found two pairs of curious eyes on you. 

"Yeah, every year for like ten years." You responded, and you were met with a look of disbelief from Hughie, and even Butcher had a slight glint of surprise in his eyes. Perhaps they didn't take you as the orgy, drugs and depravity type of supe, not that you blame them, that never truly was your idea of fun. But you weren’t entirely innocent either. "I'm serious. You can ask Ben if you don't believe me." 

Both men gave Ben a long glance and he laughed, shrugging at you. 

"She ain’t lying, I took her to her first one, in 74' was it? Should've seen her, such a pretty doe-eyed lil’ thing, with a face like hers she fooled everyone." 

"Oh, yeah, you showed innocent little me all the ropes. It was very educational." You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the small grin on your face, and Ben had one of his own. 

For a moment you forgot neither of the other two men quite understood whatever was going between you and Ben, so you missed the uncomfortable look on their faces. 

"Oh, I showed you a hell of a lot more than just the ropes, sweetheart." 

"And I'll show you both the barrel of a gun if I have to endure another second of your trip down erotic memory lane. Can we focus here?" Butcher groaned, looking both annoyed and disturbed by your relationship, like a parent who was tired of keeping his two horny teenagers in line. 

You exchanged a look with Ben, eyes big and lips pursed as you tried not to laugh and you gave him a look of having just been scolded. He simply rolled his eyes and half paid attention to Hughie and Butcher as they went back and forth about who was going in first. 

You, as always, just stood there and observed, absentmindedly twirling your knife between your fingers as you listened to them agree that Hughie should go in first so you could be in and out as quickly as possible. In between your own priorities, Ben being the main one, you had almost forgotten why you were here in the first place. Despite the fact that you were picking off Payback's members one by one, you quickly realized this wasn't for you, or Ben and his plot for revenge. No, it was about Butcher getting his. And the two of you were simply there to make it happen. 

You had begun to wonder if this was all there was to it, a means to an end, and in reality neither you or Ben had much of a chance to make it out this revenge mission alive. But if there was something you knew for sure, it was that you would die before you let anything happen to Ben again. Deep down, you hoped he would do the same for you. 

"I'm gonna go check the area before we go in, make sure there aren't any surprises." Butcher announced after a minute or two of waiting, Hughie not being back yet. He started walking, but not before turning to glance at you both with narrowed eyes, "And you two behave, last time I left you cunts alone you broke a bathroom." 

You did a mocking salute to him and snorted when he rolled his eyes at you, grumbling something you didn't quite hear as he began to walk away. He was out of your sight pretty quickly and you could already feel Ben's intense gaze burn on your face. You ignored it at first, but when he stood in front of you, eyes never leaving you, you had no choice but to look at him. You stopped your fidgeting and you looked up at him expectantly as you leaned back against a tree.

"I don't need to read your mind to know you want to tell me something, what's up?" 

"What you said back at the motel, did you mean it?" He questioned, leaning close to your face as he placed a hand beside your head. You stared at him for a second, trying to dig in your mind for whatever it was that he meant. You found his green eyes and you realized. 

Ah. The three fucking words. 

"Seriously Ben?" You groaned, your head falling to the side with annoyance, but more of all you wanted to avoid his gaze, avoid the shame of having confessed your deepest feelings, knowing feelings wasn't something either of you ever talked about let alone ever admitted to. Because feelings meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant weakness. And weakness wasn't something either of you would ever admit to.

He grabbed your chin, grip tight as he forced you to look at him, "Did you? ‘Cause I meant what I said, all of it." 

Your face softened and your lips slightly curved into a tiny smile. You never wanted to search his mind without his permission, it was like a line you never liked to cross, but you didn't need to this time. Just by looking into his eyes you always knew. You could tell a lot by looking into someone’s eyes. You searched his eyes for any kind of deceit or even manipulation, but you didn't find any. You knew what he meant, and coming from him, it meant everything. 

"Yeah," You sighed softly, "I meant what I said." 

"Good." His pink lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he squeezed your face and leaned down, capturing your lips into his own. It was slower, no rushed and desperate touches like before, but he still kissed you hard. There was nothing gentle about it, but was there ever anything gentle about him? 

His tongue slipped into your mouth as he dropped his hand, resting it on the column of your neck. He pressed his armored chest against yours, pretty much pinning you against the tree. His mouth was so skilled, like he knew exactly how to take your breath away in seconds, he knew you that well. You would never allow a man to have this much control over you. But it was always different with him. Your hands found his long strands as you explored his mouth, and you pulled hard. You felt him groan against your mouth and he squeezed your neck in response. You gasped, the sound quickly fading into a soft moan. He pulled back and watched with amusement the look of pure ecstasy on your face as he squeezed your throat. 

"You fucking slut, you still get off to me hurting you, don't you?" He bit his lip as he released your throat, thumb brushing over the skin he knew would bruise, just like everybody else's, even if it was for a little bit. 

You inhaled deeply, the short lack of airflow making you dizzy, but in the most delicious way possible. You opened your eyes, finding his green ones and god you wished nothing but to just ditch the mission and go somewhere where he could take you, over and over again. 

"Are we here to get revenge or are we here to get your dick wet? ‘Cause I'm getting some real mixed signals here." You mumbled, breath heavy and he chuckled. He leaned down, pressing his lips to your jaw before he moved them to your ear. 

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard I'm gonna break a hell of a lot more than just a mirror." He coaxed. The way he spoke in your ear made you rub your thighs together and the pool forming in your panties was impossible to ignore. It was embarrassing how quickly he could pull you apart and do with you what he pleased. "When we get back. Now pull yourself together, we're on a mission." 

And just like that he was standing a few feet away from you. He was looking behind his shoulder, almost as if he could hear someone. And of course, just in time for you to somewhat regain your composure, Butcher came back. Though it wasn't before you locked eyes with Ben one more time as you tried to control your breathing, and the cocky bastard winked at you, lips curled into a shit eating grin before Butcher actually approached you both. 

This motherfucker. 

"All clear. The twins are in there. You shouldn't have a problem going in," He said to Ben, but then looked at you, "You, though, you might get some attention. Pretty girl, dressed in black leather and strapped with knives, that's some BDSM shit if I've seen one." 

"Okay and?" You frowned, now standing by both men.

"Just stay close to him, people might recognize you and approach you. Do what you can to keep a low profile. You might have to get your hands a bit dirty." He looked between you and Ben. You stared at him with a small frown at first, but when he raised his eyebrows at you, you quickly realized what he meant. 

"Wouldn't be the first time." Ben commented with a chuckle when he caught on. You looked at him, slightly unimpressed by his lack of discretion but you simply rolled your eyes. 

Butcher sighed heavily, clearly done with your antics by then and he simply motioned you off with an unimpressed expression, "Off you go, ya dirty cunts." 

"Looks like you might get your dick wet after all." You commented to Ben as you both headed off to the house. 

He chuckled, shooting you a glance as you stood in front of the door. You were both eager to get this over with, you more than him. It was one thing for him to be able to face the assholes that betrayed him, and you were happy to do it with him. But the idea of being around dozens of supes, in an environment where there were no rules, no respect and no boundaries, made you uneasy. You didn't know if you could handle that many voices all at once. It had been a long time since you had been around other Supes, let alone that many, and you had made that decision for a reason. 

Almost as if he could feel the anxiety radiate from you, you felt a large hand fill your own. Confused, you looked down and saw he had intertwined his fingers with your own. "There's nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart, it wouldn't be the first time we do this." 

"I haven't been around other supes since…" You inhaled deeply, your throat slightly closing up at the memory. The last time you stepped foot at Vought Tower, when you realized you couldn't do it anymore. Ben looked at you, eyebrows slightly knitted into a frown, "It's been a long time is all." 

"Just stay by my side, nobody will lay a hand on you. I'll always protect you, remember?" He gave your hand a slight squeeze and the calm yet assertive ring in his voice made you feel almost at ease. Almost. 

You stayed silent, needing all your energy and focus to keep the dozens of voices beginning to infiltrate your mind one by one. The sound of Ben speaking as a very naked man opened the door sounded far, distant, you didn't catch much of what they said. You only knew to move when you felt Ben tug you along. Now the sound of your racing heart was almost as loud as the voices. So fucking many people here. So many Supes. So many voices. All at once. It was deafening. It disgusted you, to have to hear every passing thought these depraved beings had. You didn’t realize you started digging your blunt nails into Ben’s gloves.

It didn’t hurt, but your enhanced strength definitely made him feel the tightening grip of your shaking hands. He stopped and looked at you with a twisted frown.

“The fuck is wrong with you now? You look like you saw your father.” 

You eyes snapped up to find him looking back at you with both confusion, and his version of concern. You opened your mouth but you could only stammer but no words actually came out. You couldn’t think. It was so loud. Your lip quivered ever so slightly as you felt your chest start to grow heavy. Ben saw the look on your face, the way your eyes were frantically looking around the room, your jaw wound up so tight he thought you’d break it. The last time he saw you like this was when you first joined Payback and didn’t have full control of your abilities. 

“Stop that, right now.” He gripped your shoulders hard, really fucking hard, enough to make you shift your focus on him for a moment. You looked at him with wide eyes. “Hey, I need you to focus. Get your head under control. I need you to have my back here, okay?”

“I… I don’t.. I can’t get them to stop. They won’t stop.” You said, so close to being on the verge of tears. “There’s so many, I can’t get them to shut the fuck up. I--” 

“Hey,” He shook you ever so slightly, leaning in close to your face. “The fuck did I just say? Get. yourself. Together. You used to tune ‘em out, remember? So tune them out.” 

You breathed in, your chest rising as you tried to drown out the noise, focus on his face, on his voice. But you couldn’t. You hadn’t been around this many people in nearly a decade.

“I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” You shook your head frantically and tried to slip out of his grip but he didn’t let you. 

“I need you here. Just—hey,” he grabbed your jaw, looking out of the corner of his eyes to make sure you weren’t bringing in too much attention before he met your teary eyes. “Just look at me. I’m right here. Remember you used to tune everyone else out and only focus on my voice, hm? Focus on my thoughts, okay? It’s just you and me, fuck everyone else.” 

You stared at him, the green in his eyes seeming more and more green the longer you looked. You even saw a ring yellow in there. His voice. His thoughts, they had always calmed you, centered you. The voices grew more and more distant the longer you looked at him. You listened to his voice as his thoughts became your own. Until only the sound of his voice was in your head. Your breath was shaky as you closed your eyes, a laugh of relief leaving your lips.

He held your face for a little longer, his deep frown less harsh as he watched your face slowly visibly relax and the tension left your body.

“Are we good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” You exhaled deeply and nodded at him, feeling like you were slowly regaining control of yourself. “Let’s go find the terror twins.” 

You walked around this house for what felt like hours. But it didn’t help that you were being stopped every five minutes by every naked Supe you walked by. Ben was anything but amused.

“I swear to fucking Christ if one more of these slimy jizz-covered fuck faces asks you to use your knives on them I will actually shove my shield up their ass.” Ben grumbled with a look of disgust on his face.

“They’d probably like that.” You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at the death glare he shot you.

“Eat shit.” You actually snorted this time, and you were full on giggling when he started mumbling curses at you as he walked off. 

You ultimately decided splitting up was probably the way to go, the house was way too big and had too many rooms, you’d find the twins quicker if you each went your own way. Ben was reluctant at first, a bit apprehensive to leave you on your own after you almost broke down earlier. But you reassured him you were fine and perfectly capable of going on your own. You ultimately realized you made the right choice. You didn’t know exactly when or how but out of nowhere you heard a loud blast in the next room and you were launched right through a wall from the blast. Pain immediately started shooting through your body at the impact. You were a Supe, sure, but you weren’t Soldier Boy, you weren’t fucking invincible. You bled and you felt pain like any human. 

It took you a good minute to understand what the actual fuck had just happened. And when you did, you almost forgot about the throbbing pain going through your body. You pushed yourself up to your feet, stumbling and holding on to walls as you dragged yourself through the rubble and burned bodies. Your jaw slightly fell open at the sight of this much mayhem. You didn’t believe in God, but fuck were you praying to a higher power for Ben to be okay. 

You managed to stay on your feet despite the pain. It would go away eventually, in a day or so, but the first few hours were brutal. Still you pushed through, determined to find Ben. You stumbled into a hallway, the walls were falling apart and chunks of cement were all around the floor. But what caught your attention was the sight that fucking American flag and blonde head of hair you had grown to despise. Your heart stopped, you were frozen. You held your breath as you realized fucking Homelander was here. And he currently had Ben pinned to a wall.

This was such a bad fucking idea. You could die a very agonizing death. A bad idea indeed. 

Adrenaline kicked in, you sprinted and with a bit of momentum you landed on Homelander’s shoulders. You were surprised he didn’t hear you coming.You were thankful he was preoccupied with Ben. Your nails dug into the side of his temples and you used all of the energy and power you had coursing through your veins, and sent that straight to his brain.

You weren’t sure if it would even tickle. You tried using your shock powers on Ben once, a long time ago, just to test out how it worked on Supes with enhanced strength, he said it felt like being electrocuted. And right about now you were praying Homelander felt something, enough to stun him at least. You could kill an average Supe if you used enough power, but you weren’t so sure if you were strong enough.

You held on, but you were struggling, commanding your body to release this much energy was mentally exhausting but the sound of Homelander groaning in pain made you smile the slightest bit. The shocks of electricity weren’t going to kill him, but it sure did hurt, and it stunned him. Nobody’s brain was invisible afterall. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it motherfucker? Your body may be indestructible but your mind can only take so much before it breaks.” You spat. Sparks were coming from your fingers as your eyes flashed bright purple. “It’s fucked when its you being held down against your will, huh?”

He screamed, stumbling around as he attempted to grab at you, but this wasn’t the first time you tried to fry someone’s brain off while on their shoulders. You gasped when you saw his laser eyes go off as he screamed, leaving indents on the wall. This split second of distraction was enough to make your focus falter, and it gave Homelander the opportunity to find a grip on you. You cried in pain when he grabbed your ankle and tossed you off. 

You landed fucking hard, it knocked the air right out of your lungs. You coughed as you attempted to get up, but Homelander was grabbing you and pulling you up by your neck before you could blink. He held you up in the air as he levitated so you couldn’t find a way to escape. He held you at arm’s length so you couldn’t reach him, either. The way his empty, ice cold eyes stared you down with evil glee as you gasped for air was terrifying. 

“I always knew you were a fucking bitch. I should’ve killed you when I had the chance. Matter of fact, I’ll do that right now.” Your eyes widened when his eyes gleamed bright red. 

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Ben behind Homelander, with a grin as he grabbed Homelander’s cape and pulled down, and he pulled really fucking hard. Your body collided with the ground roughly, landing on your side with a pained cry. But you still saw Ben throw Homelander around by his cape, and had you not been mere seconds away from death, you would have laughed at the comedic irony. You were in and out of consciousness, an aura surrounding your vision. But in between your delirium you could see Butcher and Hughie had arrived, and the three of them were taking on Homelander. It wasn’t long before the three of them had Homelander pinned down. You could feel yourself fade, your muscles give out and your mind shut off. You hadn’t used that much power since you were in Payback. 

You heard indistinct voices and shouting before everything went black. 

“The fuck are you waitin’ for? Blast this cunt!” Butcher shouted and Ben grunted.

“I can’t! Just—Fuck.” His eyes found you in the corner, bloodied and passed out. You couldn’t run away and you wouldn’t survive the blast, he knew that. “You—kid, take her, and get out here. Now!”

“No fucking way!” Hughie shouted back, and Ben felt the urge to blast him instead. 

“Do what he says, take the fuckin’ girl and go!” Butcher shouted at Hughie, catching on to what Ben was trying to do. But before any of them could do anything, Homelander blasted his lasers, screaming as he overpowered the three of them while they were distracted. And just like that he was gone. 

The three men sat in silence, in defeat. They had a chance and they blew it. Ben knew it was mostly his fault, he shouldn’t have hesitated. But he refused to ever let you get hurt. In silent anger he glared at both of them and he stood and walked over to your passed out body. He clenched his jaw as he picked your limp body and carried you. He made eye contact with Butcher and Hughie and it took all of his power not to shoot both of them in the face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your whole body ached, and your head was founding. It was unbearable. You winced in pain as you began to peel layers of clothes off your body. God it fucking hurt. You closed your eyes as you attempted to hold back tears, only snapping back into reality when you felt Ben trace his fingers over your back. He noted every bruise and every cut. He knew they would heal, sure but it still made him seethe with anger. 

“What the fuck were you thinkin’, taking on Homelander like that? Did all the fucking pills you take for your psychosis fry all of your neurons or what?” He was so angry, and he never was exactly kind with his words. You always knew that, but it still hurt when he talked to you that way, especially when you had only been trying to help him. 

Your back was turned to him, so he couldn't see the hurt frown on your face but he did notice you huff at him and move away from his touch, refusing to look at him. 

“Okay.. Hey, no. I didn’t.. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck.” He bit his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut with regret of his choice of words. You kept your back to him as you continued to undress. He groaned. “You would have died. And it would have been on me. I couldn’t live with that, is all.” 

“Well, I was passed out so it would have been a quick death, if that's of any consolation to you.” You answered shortly as you stripped down to your underwear. You don't think he understood that you stopped caring whether you lived or died a long time ago. 

“Okay, could you not be a bitch for two seconds?” He sighed, already annoyed by your attitude. 

“No. If you want a girl who doesn't talk back to you, go find Countess. Oh, wait, you can't ‘cause she sold you to the Russians. Guess you're stuck with me.” You answered with even more spitefulness, just to tick him off a little bit more. You didn't need to read his mind to know he was beyond pissed. You weren't exactly in a colorful mood, either. Your back was still turned to him as you tossed your bloodied gear in a corner. 

He breathed in deeply, pitching the bridge of his nose, “Violet, look at me when I'm talking to you.” 

You turned around with exasperation, your eyes open wide with a ‘what’ expression as you motioned your hands around passive-aggressively. 

“I didn't mean what I said. I know you were trying to help me… And I know that you can't always control your powers. I sometimes can't deal with my own head, I can't imagine having to deal with everybody else's.” Ben wasn't one to apologize. He was actually allergic to the words I'm sorry. You knew that. But you knew he at least tried to apologize using other words. So you listened. You knew he was having a hard time, too. “But I'm not really one to talk. I think I'm the one that's fucked in the head.” 

Your lips slightly parted at his words and you looked at him with a tiny bit of sadness. You never asked him details of what happened to him. Sure, you could look, but you never wanted to dig through his mind without his permission. He'd tell you if he really wanted to. But you didn't need to know everything to understand that what he went through messed him up. And it messed him up a lot. What happened at Herogasm was proof of that. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened at Herogasm? Don't make me look through your head, I don't want to.” You sighed softly, ultimately giving in, like you always did. Your delicate fingers dragged over his vest as you absentmindedly began to take off his gear. 

Ben stayed silent for a long time. He didn't think he even knew what happened. You were down to the last layer of the top part of his suit by the time he opened his mouth. 

“I blacked out. I don't.. I don't know what the fuck happened. I was talking to the fuck twins and then nothing. Next thing I remember is the burned bodies and the place was all fucked up.” He breathed out a little unevenly, a frown knitted deep on his face. He looked down at you when you stayed silent. “I didn't mean to. You believe that, right?” 

You did. But did he? 

“Of course I believe you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, hands flat on his chest. He brought one of his hands to the back of your hair, holding your head in place. After a few seconds, you hummed, parting your lips slightly. “Can I ask you a question?” 

He nodded. 

“Why didn't you kill Homelander? You had a shot. Why didn't you take it? You would have done the whole fucking world a favor.” 

Ben stared at you with confusion. Did you really not get it? Were you that clueless or was he just that bad at showing his devotion for you? Probably the latter. 

“You saw what my blast did to the house. You wouldn't have survived that. I should have, I know, Butcher won't stop fucking reminding me. But he has nothing left to lose. Can't kill two girlfriends in the same week, y'know?” 

Your mouth fell open with indignation and you shoved at his chest, but deep down you felt warm at the fact that he chose you over his mission, for once. You still pretended to be angry at him, though. “Fucking prick.” 

He brought his lips to your jaw, leaving blunt kisses and you pretend to hate it. But the smile on your face was inevitable. 

“Wanna shower now or what?” He eventually said. That was the reason you were in the bathroom after all. 

You nodded. You could use the hot water on your bruised skin. You finished stripping, Ben just watched you with a perverted grin and smacked your ass before he stripped himself. 

He got in first, turning on the water and letting it run until steam began to fill the small space. He knew you liked it boiling hot. He didn't mind. You got in and immediately went under the shower head. You moaned in relief, the hot water running down your tense muscles, alleviating the soreness on your body. Ben watched you with a surprising amount of patience as he stood behind you. He leaned down and pressed his soft lips behind your neck, licking along the skin before he moved down your neck to your shoulder. He rested his hands on your hips, squeezing the skin as lightly as he could. You had enough bruises for one day. 

“I'm gonna take care of you tonight, m’kay?” He mumbled against your skin before he made you turn around. 

He crashed his lips against yours, rough fingers gripping your jaw as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You whined, already craving more. When he kissed you like this, you just couldn't help yourself. 

“Need you, please.” You were breathless against his lips, your blunt nails digging into his chest desperately. He gave your bottom lip a small tug as he pulled away. 

He made you stand in front of him, his back to the shower wall as he slowly sank to his knees. Your eyes followed him longingly.

“C'mere.” He pulled you towards him, his eyes were full of greed as he made eye contact with you while he directed you to rest one of your feet on his shoulder. 

His eyes stayed locked with yours as leaned forward and licked a long stripe from your hole up to your clit. He wrapped his lips around the bud and sucked. You gasped, instantly pressing your hand against the damp wall to keep yourself up. Your mouth fell open in delight as he dragged his tongue around your sensitive clit. 

“O-Oh. Shit. Shit, Ben.” You whined softly, your free hand falling to his wet hair. He held your hip with one hand, steady vice grip holding you in place as he pushed his tongue into your hole. You swore the cry you let out was heard in the entire apartment. “Oh, my God. Fuck. That feels so good.” 

Ben hummed in approval as you wrapped your fingers around his hair and held his face against you. As if he would go anywhere. He happily kept his mouth on you, head moving up and down as he worked you with his tongue, his nose brushing your clit with every movement of his head. To say that you were so close was an understatement. You could feel your leg start to give out under you the longer you felt that heat build in your stomach. Ben was more than happy to assist you with that, too. His free hand grabbed the underside of your thigh and forced you further against his mouth until your leg was dangling over his shoulder. His other hand stayed on your hip, vice grip holding you upright effortlessly. 

His tongue found your clit one more time, and the emptiness it left was replaced by two long fingers pushing into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open in a silent cry. You leaned your forehead against the tile as you dug your nails into his scalp. Fuck, you didn't remember the last time a man ate you out, let alone ate you out like this. It felt so good you wanted to cry, you didn't even remember the pain in your body, all you could feel was pleasure. 

“Feels good, doesn't it sweetheart?” He spat into your clit as he fucked you with his fingers. If the shower hadn't been running the lewd sound of his fingers dragging in and out of your wet hole would've been so loud. But he could still hear it, and fuck did he love it. He took a second to look up at you. Such a pretty little thing when you were so close. “Oh, you wanna come don't you? Mhmm, yeah, you do. C'mon, gimme what I want. I know you can do it.” 

His tongue was back on your clit, he licked harsh stripes as he slipped his thick fingers in and out of your cunt with urgency. The sounds of him licking and sucking on your clit were almost as filthy as the sounds coming out of your mouth. His fingers fucked you without mercy, there was not a single thing gentle about his touch. It was rough and relentless. Just like he was. And it had you seeing fucking white before you even realized. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, lips parting in a silent cry as you held his face against you. But it wasn't like he'd go anywhere, if anything he kept his tongue on your swollen clit and his fingers never stopped. Tears formed in your eyes as your thighs shuddered. And when he didn't stop you were pulling at the ends of his hair to pull him off you. He groaned at this. Quite unhappy to be leaving the warm place between your thighs. 

“I wasn't done.” He looked up at you with a frown. You took in a deep breath, blowing out a small laugh as you grabbed at his face, weakly attempting to pull him back up.

“You can be down there all you want later, I just..” You swallowed hard, somewhat regaining your composure as he stood up to his full height. You pulled him down by his face and kissed him, and you kissed him fucking hard. And the taste of yourself still left on his tongue made you need him even more. “Just need you, okay?” 

“Need me where?” He grabbed your jaw, fingers sprawled out over your throat as he held your face back. He stared you down, malicious eyes full of greed as he waited for your answer. And he wouldn't give you anything until you did.

“Inside me.” You muttered through gritted teeth, almost delirious as you rubbed your thighs together with anticipation. He didn't look satisfied. You breathed in deeply, the aching need between your legs unbearable. “Need your cock, inside me, right now, Ben.” 

He lifted his eyebrows up in satisfaction and gave you a simple hum before he switched positions with you, without a word pressing your front against the shower wall. 

“I fuck you once and you're already acting like a pathetic whore? Okay. But you better fucking take my cock like the good fuck doll you've always been, hm?” He kicked your legs apart with his knee, his back pressing you further into the wall as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance. You took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're gonna take this cock like a good lil’ fuck doll.” 

You gasped when he pushed himself inside with a snap of his hips, but it quickly turned into a moan when he pushed himself to the hilt, hips rutting against your ass. You dug your nails into nothing as you closed your eyes, taking in the delicious feeling of his thick cock stretching your walls.

“What a tight fucking cunt.” He grunted, gripping your hips, not wasting any time. He barely gave you time to adjust. “So fucking wet. Just for me, huh?” 

You were nodding against the wall instantly, pushing your ass back against him as he fucked you without mercy. You felt his lips on your shoulder as he leaned over you. The lewd sound of slapping skin was drowned out by the shower running but you could hear it clear as fucking day. 

“Yes! Mhmm feels so good.” You moaned softly, mindlessly reaching behind you to touch him, any part of him. Your fingers found his beard as you ran your hand over his face desperate to feel him, then you found his hair, and you latched on for dear life as he drilled into you. 

“Yeah? Like how my cock feels in your guts? You missed it, didn't you?” He pressed the side of his face into your head, allowing himself to close his eyes and soak the feeling of your nails on his scalp, he could even feel the faintest bit of electricity shooting through your fingers. He fucking loved it. 

“Yes! God yes.” You couldn't even describe how much. 

Ben smirked at this as he wrapped his arm over your chest and his fingers found your throat. He forced your head back, making you look at him. 

“Open your mouth,” He ordered, he held his finger to your pulse as he felt the fast rate of your heartbeat. You did as he said, and with a huff he spat in your mouth. “Slut. Swallow it.” 

How he could so easily break you down to nothing and treat you like no other man could, truly was beyond your understanding. But your mind didn't have to understand it. Your body just did it. You felt a pool of wetness seep through you at the damn near animalistic groan that rumbled in his throat. 

“You're such a good fucking girl.” He spat, pressing his lips against yours in a messy filthy kiss. You could barely keep your mouth open, not with the way he was so determined to make you fall apart for him. “You're my good fucking girl.” 

“I want to come. Please I—fuck.”  Your words were broken as your whole body burned up, and it wasn't from the hot water. 

“Of course, you do. It just feels so good, doesn't it?” He squeezed your throat harder, only choked out sounds could leave your mouth as he slipped his other hand to your swollen clit and rubbed harsh circles. 

Your orgasm hit you so hard you didn't realize it until you were shaking violently, your eyes rolled back into your head as you fucked yourself on his cock. Not that he ever stopped. He moaned loudly at the feeling of your wetness seeping on him. The wet sound of his cock slapping against your cunt made him want to come, too. 

“Fuck. Fucking Christ Violet. C'mon, make me come. Fuck yourself on my cock just like that. Be a good fuck doll for me, that's it.” His hand left your throat to pull at your hair. He dug his fingers deep into your scalp as his face fell on your shoulder. With a deep grunt he held you down on him. “Fucking take it, that's it, girl. Just like that. Fuck.” 

You could feel your mixed releases slip down your thigh. You sighed deeply, allowing yourself to close your eyes in ecstasy as he pressed his lips to your jaw. You hummed softly, reaching behind you to run your fingers through your hair. 

“I never want to leave this cunt. Feels so fucking good.” He muttered against your skin. 

You laughed softly, eyes still closed, you breathed heavily, “You're gonna have to eventually.” 

“Like fuck I am.” 

Both of his hands were on your hips and he turned you around. You whimpered softly at the emptiness he left you, but it was quickly replaced by choked out gasp when he grabbed both of your thighs and effortlessly hoisted you up around his waist. Your back was pressed against the tile wall and he slipped his cock inside you without a warning.

“Ben—” 

“You wanted my cock inside you? Well you better fucking take all of it. Every fucking inch ‘til I say so. You want it, don't you?” He spat, already fucking into you like you were nothing more than a toy. He held you up by your thighs as he kept them wide open so he could take as much as he wanted. And that he did. “Of course you do, this cunt is all mine to with as I fucking want. That ain't never gonna change.” 

What a long fucking night you were going to have. But you'd take a million of this over another day without him in your life. And this? This was all you ever wanted. You didn't need anything else, just him.

[skztext]

Mad and for what?

< Messages: Boyfriend SKZ

Recipient: Female Yn

a/n: insomnia and boredom makes me creative. all for kicks and giggles. apologies if i misrepresented the group and the members. no names mentioned in this is meant in any ill intent, jin was just a name i could think of. no link to the idol or any real person. yeji and dk are mentioned but no ill intent towards them or their idol image. this is all just a head canon of how i think they would act with their girlfriends (you). if you would like a mini series for one of the boys don’t be afraid to ask. i would be glad to make it. sorry for the lay out of the messages. ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢs 🫂 ʜᴏᴍɪᴇ sᴍᴏᴏᴄʜᴇs ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ💋 app social maker

warning (s): sassy kings// top tier drama queens// profanity// insecurity// suggestive cheating// jokes of offing self// pet names// loving bullying// some angst, some comfort, all fictional