#trigger warning hit and run victim

[svetzzi]

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

[kaidasdesires]

"You should be scared."

☾ pairing: dom! incubus yeonjun x sub! human afab reader

☾ rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

☾ wc: 6.9k

☾ content warnings: somnophilia, yeonjun is a demon/incubus, dubious consent into full consent as the story progresses, shape-shifting, choking, hair pulling, yeonjun has a knot ♡, mentions of killing and death, knife/blood play if you squint, pet names, cursing, reader almost dies, slight size kink, yeonjun cries

TRIGGER WARNING: Some scenes may be triggering for survivors of SA. Please read at your own risk.

☾ summary: y/n meets Yeonjun at a club and goes home with him. Yeonjun is an incubus that has to have sex and cum to stay alive but if he's not careful he could kill his victims. including y/n.

One of these days you would stop going out on the weekdays but you found that going to the club kept a lot of negativity and anxiety off your mind when things were stressful. You had a few drinks and could already feel yourself getting a bit tipsy but that didn’t stop you from having a good time. You were sitting at the bar when your friend Wooyoung (obviously wasted) pulled on your arm.

“Y/n, come on.~ Come dance with me!” He whined, giving you his best puppy eyes. Wooyoung usually went with you wherever, but he would never turn down an opportunity to get drunk.

“For fucks sake Wooyoung” you laughed, “how are you this drunk already?” 

“I don't know what you're talking about.” He smiled, poorly feigning innocence.

You shook your head in disbelief before following him onto the dance floor anyway. You danced with him despite his unsteady feet. You danced with him for a while, all your worries fading into nothingness as the music and movement melted away the tension from your body. Or at least that’s how it was until Wooyoung lost his balance and fell into you.

You stumbled backward running into other bodies on your way down. It wouldn’t have been as bad, but as soon as your butt hit the ground, you felt like it was raining. Lukewarm, sticky, smelly rain. Someone had spilled their alcohol on you as a result of you knocking into them. You heard cussing above you but when you looked up Wooyoung was nowhere to be found.

 “Hah. Of course, he's gone.” You scoffed shaking your head before bracing yourself to get up and also to face the embarrassment of the situation you were in.

“You okay?” You heard from above you. The deep voice sent a chill down your spine. You looked back up, meeting the brown eyes of a boy you’d never seen before. You felt your cheeks become rosy as you looked over his features. Brown eyes that seemed to have a hint of red to them, messy black hair that was a little bit sweaty. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into his pants with a few buttons undone, exposing his collar bones, and black dress pants with a skinny belt. Not to mention the smirk plastered on his face as he watched you stare at him. He waited for you to respond with his hand outstretched. 

“Oh, thank you. Sorry if I hit you.” You said quietly, taking his hand. You were surprised by how gentle he was as he helped you up. He smiled down at you and your heart clenched. He was a good bit taller than you, and his hands were so much bigger than yours. Not to mention how incredibly handsome he was.

“You didn’t. But I saw your friend run off, so I figured you’d need some company now.” He chuckled. “What’s your name?” The boy asked his gentle eyes looking you up and down. 

“I'm y/n,” you responded. Typically you didn't give random boys the time of day, but this one had piqued your interest. Something about his aura maybe? 

“Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Yeonjun.” he paused before continuing, motioning to your clothes, “You are covered in someone else's beer, can I take you to get some fresh clothes?” 

You had somehow forgotten that you were covered in alcohol. Now the stickiness was a lot more obvious. “Oh…” you hesitated. Yeonjun however didn’t give you time to think before chuckling, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the crowd and towards the door. Normally you would be pulling away, but there was something about this boy that was… magnetic. You didn’t mind letting him tug you away, besides, Wooyoung had left you alone anyway. He would just have to suffer the consequences of his own actions.

Once you had made it outside the bar, Yeonjun sighed, taking in a breath of the cool air outside. “That’s better. It was too fucking loud and hot in there.” he laughed. 

“Right? Well thank you Yeonjun, I should probably catch a taxi home now so I can get cleaned up.” You also sighed, but instead of in relief, it was in frustration. You felt for your wallet in your back pocket. Yeonjun watched as you let your arms fall beside you. “It’s gone…” you mumbled. 

Yeonjun faked a frown as he pushed your wallet deeper into his back pocket, but then quickly perked up. “You can just come to my apartment. I know you don’t know me and this is probably a huge red flag but I’m not up to any fuck boy shit. I promise.” He said, holding out a pinky to you. 

You snorted. Everything told you to run away. This was a bad idea. It was dangerous and definitely a red flag. But you couldn’t help it. For some reason, you didn’t want him to leave. Yeonjun felt trustworthy, and maybe a little bit addictive. You intertwined your pinky with him, completing the promise. “Only if you promise you’re not kidnapping me.” 

“I promise.” You saw that red shimmer in his eyes again as he took your hand. You walked with Yeonjun for a little while before your feet started to cramp up from the heels you were wearing. Once Yeonjun noticed your pace slowing down, he quickly turned around and lifted you off the ground. You gasped at the suddenness as well as how easy it seemed for him to lift you. 

“Don’t worry. Just rest. I can carry you the rest of the way. It’s only a couple blocks.” He said reassuring you. 

You nodded. His scent pulled you in closer as you leaned against his chest. You closed your eyes and let yourself be overcome by his warmth and smell. There was just something about him that made you want to stay close to him. You were so drawn to him in a way you’d never been drawn to anyone before.

You must have dozed off momentarily, but you were quickly awoken by Yeonjun’s gentle but slightly out-of-breath voice. “Y/n,~ I’m sorry I would carry you into the house but I have to open the door.” 

You opened your eyes only to be met by a cute pout. He must have genuinely felt bad for having to put you down. He lowered you gently back onto your feet before opening the door and letting you walk inside first. His apartment was small, a little bit disorganized but clean. 

“Here I’ll grab you some clothes and put them in the bathroom for you. Then you can wash up if you want to.” Yeonjun said as he took off his shoes and then walked to his bedroom. 

You watched as he came out of his bedroom with some folded clothes in his hands as well as a towel or two. Then he stepped out of the bathroom again before motioning that the bathroom was now yours. 

“If the clothes are uncomfortable or don’t fit right just let me know and I’ll grab you something else!” He smiled as he walked back into the living room and plopped down on the couch.

You gave him a nod and responded, “Thank you Yeonjun, you didn’t have to do this.” Before heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You locked the bathroom door of course because this guy was still someone you didn’t know + taking a shower + being naked + the unlocked door just didn’t feel quite right.

But after you locked the door, you allowed yourself to relax a bit, using the restroom and starting the shower before peeling off your sticky beer-covered clothes. You hopped into the shower and let the hot water caress your skin. It felt nice. You didn't bother to wash your hair but you did use Yeonjun’s body wash to clean off your body. The smell of his body wash was nice, not too manly but not girly either. After letting your muscles relax in the hot water for a bit you eventually decided it was time to get out of the shower. You noticed that Yeonjun’s towels were nice, they seemed high quality as you dried yourself off. Then you finally picked up the clothes he had brought for you. A big white t-shirt with some sort of logo on the front, and some sweatpants. You slipped the clothes on, not able to wear your beer-soaked bra, and ultimately forced yourself to put back on your sweaty panties. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked comfortable and cute. Your cheeks were pink from hot water and the clothes stuck to your damp body. Your nipples are easy to see in the shirt but you shrug it off, being a man you’re sure Yeonjun probably wouldn’t mind the free view. You decide to tie your hair up into a ponytail to complete the comfortable look before unlocking the door and stepping into the hallway. When you walk back into the living room you find Yeonjun in the kitchen cooking some eggs and toast. He turned around at the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

He hummed contently with a raised eyebrow as he looked you up in down in his clothes. “You look cute.” 

“Thank you.” You responded, feeling a little bit shy before joining him in the kitchen. 

It was quiet for a little bit while he cooked food for himself and you. You took a second to admire him, he was still in the button-down shirt but it was much more open and now he was wearing dark sweatpants. His figure was quite enjoyable to look at, his slender waist easy to see with his shirt tucked in. 

Eventually, he finished cooking and handed you a plate of scrambled eggs and some toast along with a glass of wine. “Here, I figured you might be hungry but if you’re not that’s okay!“ he said with a smile. 

“You’re so kind Yeonjun.” You replied before taking a few bites. The two of you sat and ate together while chit-chatting and getting to know each other a little better. After a while, you felt the wine turning your cheeks pink. 

“Do you… want to watch a movie with me?” Yeonjun smiled, cleaning up the table. “If not, I can take you home.” 

“I’m definitely not letting you take me home, you’ve been drinking too, stupid.” You said with crossed arms as you headed over to his couch. He chuckled before joining you in the living room. As he approached you, you could really see how nice his figure was, including the tent in his sweatpants. You quickly looked up after realizing you definitely had been staring for too long and met his eyes. There was that stupid smirk again. Had he seen you checking him out like that? If he did he definitely didn’t say anything. 

He sat beside you and that’s when you realized how much bigger he was than you. His hands were twice the size of yours, he was much taller than you, and his arms and thighs were muscular and toned. For a moment you wondered what other parts of him were muscular or big. You shook the thought off quickly embarrassed at yourself for even going there. But you couldn’t help but bite your lip as he put his arm around you. 

You could feel your skin light on fire as he pulled you against him. The sudden proximity warmed you to the core. You swore you’d never been so interested in someone like this before but you couldn’t understand what made him so different. He turned on the TV and put on a movie. You had a hard time concentrating on the movie though. Between the unprovoked lewd thoughts and the fact that you were exhausted, after a while you found yourself dozing off on him. Yeonjun was warm and he felt safe even though you had just met him. 

Yeonjun watched as your body began to go limp in his arms. He wasn’t surprised that he had taken control over you this easily but still, it amused him to watch as your head fell into his lap. He leaned his head back and tried to calm himself. He wasn’t usually like this but he hadn’t had sex in months and if he didn’t soon he was going to become sick and unable to control himself. He would become dangerous to those around him.

He was hesitant because of what happened last time. He was afraid of hurting or killing anyone. He wasn’t like the rest of them. He really didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. Maybe if he was quick you wouldn’t wake up and you wouldn’t get hurt. He knew he could keep you sleeping for a while as long as he maintained focus. 

Your head was sitting in his lap now. He adjusted how he was sitting but that didn’t help much because now he could feel the blood starting to pulsate into his cock. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled.

He looked down and watched as the tent in his pants grew. Your warm breath tingled against the head of his cock through his pants which caused him to thrust up against your face unintentionally. You didn’t respond, but you let out a little whine which only made things worse for Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun felt his body heating up. It’s not like he could just get himself off and be done, he needed this to stay alive. His cock only continued to grow, the head now rubbing against your unsuspecting lips through his sweatpants. 

He gently rested a hand on your head holding it in place as he began to slowly rut against your face. The drag of his sweatpants against his skin stimulated him in a way that only made him hotter. He continued this for a minute, watching your innocent features as you slept in his lap. This only aroused him more and more. He knew this was wrong, but he didn’t have a choice.

He clenched his jaw before carefully pulling down his sweatpants. His length sprang out just perfectly rubbing across your lips leaving a string of precum connecting to the head. 

“Oh fuck.” He cursed. The image in front of him was unholy like him. He ran his fingers through his hair before shaking his head. He couldn’t believe he was about to do this, but you were so beautiful and he couldn’t help it. Something like this was inevitable.

With one hand Yeonjun pinched your cheeks which parted your lips and with the other, he pushed down on your head gently until he was able to push the tip into your mouth. 

He paused, the heat and wetness of your mouth making his head spin. All he had to do was keep himself calm and not lose it. If he could just cum once he’d be able to deal with it for now. He needed to cum and to have sex to feed, to stay alive, but he never wanted to hurt anyone. It was a difficult cycle. He loathed it.  

He took a shakey breath before pushing himself further into your mouth. Right now, since he was calm and fully human Yeonjun’s cock was only about 6 inches and was a normal width so he was able to push himself father into your mouth without any issues. 

While the younger boy fucked into your sleeping mouth, he let his free hand wander around your body. He let his hand crawl under your top and his fingertips kneaded your skin. 

Yeonjun thrusted deeper and he could feel your gag reflex kicking in on its own as well as small whines signaling that you were starting to wake up. He sped up, not close enough yet to cum. 

“Shit.” He thought. He had taken too long and you were starting to wake up from the dream he had put you in. He was going to have to use a different approach…

You were having the most erotic dream when the constant motion against your skin started to awaken you. You felt like you were drooling and having to work harder to breathe. You felt hot and aroused but it had to be because of the dream. That’s when you remembered where you had been. You had fallen asleep in a stranger's lap. 

When your eyes started to flutter open everything was spinning. You were no longer lying down but instead, you were sitting up with something hard pressed against your back. It was dark except for maybe one lamp, but you were in a room you didn’t recognize. 

That’s when you realized there was something in your mouth. A hand grabbed your chin and tilted your head upwards. Your eyes met his, but they weren’t the same as before. Yeonjun. His eyes a dark burgundy color now.

“Hi there little bun. Be good for me and don’t move okay?” His voice cooed into your ears. 

You started to panic slightly when you finally felt his hips move and then you realized that his cock was in your mouth and that’s why you were dreaming the way you had been. 

He started thrusting quickly without much warning causing you to grab onto his thighs as you gagged. 

“You’re such a good girl. Taking my cock so well. Open up wide for me honey, I’m not going to hurt you.” He said while rubbing your head. His voice was as sweet as honey and the tender motion of his hands running through your hair with his words somehow melted into your brain easing your anxiety. You felt dizzy with lust. That was because of your dream right? 

He pets you a few more times before pushing your head back against the wall. His cock was sliding deeper and deeper into your throat as your spit continued to build. You started gagging more and more which began to pull you out of your daze. 

You started to panic adrenaline fighting against Yeonjun’s mental abilities. The rush caused you to start pushing against his thighs again, a sudden subconscious act of fight or flight.

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe at all. Yeonjun had pinched your nose closed completely blocking you from breathing. 

“Don’t worry little bun, I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you, just trust me.” He said as he continued to keep you from breathing. 

However, now you weren’t gagging, he was pushing his cock all the way down your throat and your head was spinning. Although you were nervous and scared, you still trusted the younger boy. Suddenly, your hands felt heavy and weak so you let them fall to your side, no longer an obstacle for Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun continued to thrust into your throat sharply, the lack of oxygen to your brain was making you dizzy. You felt so weak and fuzzy. You weren’t gagging anymore but your body subconsciously started trying to gasp for air, your throat spasming around Yeonjun’s cock. You heard the younger boy curse above you before he pushed himself all the way in his body shaking slightly. You could feel his cock pulsing as he came down your throat. You looked up at him as your vision started to become spotty, you could have sworn this was a dream too because of the shadows coming up from the boy's back and how the pupils of his eyes were almost glowing and red. His cum was hot and the feeling distracted you from the fact that you were starting to black out. 

When you started to become conscious again, everything was still dark. You were lying down, it was warm and you felt a pressure behind you. You blinked a few times before you realized Yeonjun was spooning you. Your jaw was a bit sore, there’s no way everything that just happened wasn’t a dream right? You must have just clenched your jaw from the vivid dreams you were having.

You thought you could hear Yeonjun lightly snoring behind you which made you question yourself even more.

The larger boy adjusted and suddenly you could feel pressure from behind. You blushed. His cock was pushing against your clothed ass. His cock was hard, you could feel that it was throbbing and this made a chill go down your spine. You wanted more.

Yeonjun adjusted again, this time wrapping his arm around your waist and his face was near your shoulder. His breaths were heavy and even, so you were almost certain he was asleep. That was.. until you began to feel his hips rolling against you. His cock pushed against you, slightly dragging with the motion. 

You couldn’t move, you were so flustered by his actions you couldn’t help but want to see what would happen also, why were your limbs so fucking heavy. He continued rolling his hips gently for a few minutes. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter with every passing second, you wanted more than this. 

You bit your lip before slowly starting to pull the sweatpants you were wearing off. Since they were too big for you they slid off easily but you still moved with hesitation for fear of waking Yeonjun up. After another minute of gentle thrusting, you lifted your ass slightly and held your legs apart. With another thrust, Yeonjun’s cock slid down to underneath your ass and with this next thrust, his cock slid between your thighs against your clothed pussy. You gently let your legs fall back together and covered your mouth as the boy now thrusts against your heat. 

You felt dizzy with lust, your mind was racing yet only focused on what was happening behind you. The sweat made for a good lubricant between your thighs and you could feel Yeonjun’s cock growing harder. Yeonjun’s breath was hot against your neck. 

The thrusting continued against your heat until you felt your thighs slick with sweat and precum. You whined quietly, your mind was hazy and your pussy was throbbing. You wanted more but you also didn’t want to wake him. 

“Do you want me that bad princess?” You heard a voice but the voice was in your head? You shook your head a bit thinking you were literally losing it. “My previous actions weren’t enough for you? Are you that desperate?” The voice again. But that’s when everything started to change. 

“Do you know what you’re messing with Angel?” The voice spoke once more in your head. You felt Yeonjun’s body shift and you jumped as you felt sharpness digging into you where his hand was around your waist. A knife?

You’re body and mind were conflicted, fear pulsed through your body at the sudden change in mood but you couldn’t help but push back against Yeonjun’s cock which you swore had gotten bigger than when it was in your mouth. Wait but that was a dream? This is a nightmare, right? It was time to wake up. 

You shook your head again and pinched yourself. This earned you a deep chuckle from behind. “No use love. You’re mine now, but what happens next is in your hands.” The voice in your head again. 

“Yeonjun…” you spoke out loud the following words sounding ridiculous as they left your mouth, “What is going on? Is that you.. in my head?”

“Mmm… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But I couldn’t. It was much too risky. I’m an incubus, and you are my prey but.. I have no intentions of hurting you as long as you can handle it.” Yeonjun spoke aloud now, his breath tickling your ear. 

Tears pricked at your eyes as your flight or fight kicked in once more. “h-handle it?” You stuttered.

In a sudden movement, yeonjun had flipped you to where you were on your stomach and he was pressed on top of you. His cock still rubbing against your heat. The younger boy put his hands where you could see them and you watched in horror as his fingers shifted into slender claws. He lifted a hand to graze a claw against your neck. Their sharpness a likened to a brand new razor. You didn’t dare to move.

“Do you think you can handle me, princess?” He paused, “If you can’t, you don’t have to be afraid, I’ll make it quick and easy and you’ll never feel pain ever again. But if you can…. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” He whispered into your ear kissing it a few times sending shivers down your spine. 

You didn’t have a chance to answer before Yeonjun flipped you over and pinned you down his claws tearing into the sheets like little knives. Your heart and mind were racing unsure whether you were more fascinated or frightened by the scene in front of you. You watched as small dark black horns grew from his head and then he grimaced as dark bat-like wings came out from behind his back and lastly a whiplike tail with a spade on the end. You were horrified truly but despite the insanity of the situation you were in you tried to focus on the boy's face. You watched his face as the changes in his body caused him agony. You could tell he didn't want to be like this, not when it hurt him so much. You wanted to hug him, do anything to ease his pain.  

When his eyes finally met yours again they were still the deep burgundy color. He smirked once more as he watched the tears trickle down your cheeks. Fear had pulled them unwillingly from your eyes despite how you wanted to appear brave. He pulled a hand back and wrapped it around your throat once more. You whined and then realized still hadn't answered him. 

You reached up and ran a hand through his tousled hair and then over one of his horns. “You won’t hurt me Yeonjun. You don’t want to.” You managed to choke out as his hand tightened on your throat. You were sure that his next move would have been to kill you if you didn't speak up.

He seemed surprised at your response. His hand loosened slightly and his eyebrow picked up in curiosity. “You’re not afraid?” He said. 

“Of course I’m afraid. This is possibly the worst nightmare I've ever had but… Yeonjun, if you wanted to kill me you would have done it already, and besides…" you paused, "I really really… want you right now.” You replied, still aware of how his body was pressed against yours and how wet you were. 

Yeonjun’s cock throbbed at your words. He hadn’t really ever experienced this. Usually, when his prey woke up early he would just kill them. They usually woke up screaming or crying. The fear in their eyes was unbearable for him. He hated to see people be so afraid of him. He didn’t like killing people either. Many times Yeonjun had wished one of his prey would have had the means to kill him so he wouldn't have to do this anymore.  

Yeonjun sat back, releasing his hand fully from your throat and you watched as his tail came up and slid underneath your shirt. It was cold against your burning skin. The spade traveled all the way up to your neck before coming back down in fast motion ripping your shirt cleanly into two with zero resistance. You jumped as the spade cut you slightly across your chest on the way out. You were now exposed to yeonjun. 

Yeonjun watched for a moment as the blood trickled down your bare chest. He was also taking the time to admire your bare torso. Then he leaned down and licked from your belly button up to your neck, stopping to lick up the blood from your skin. When he got to your neck he kissed gently, eliciting a quiet whimper from you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, running a hand through his hair again and tugging gently near the base of his horns. Yeonjun growled at this, continuing to kiss and suck beautiful bruises on your neck. Your head spun as he licked against the shell of your ear before coming back down to lick at your erect nipples. He sucked at one and then the other, only causing your pussy to throb with every slight move. 

You grabbed at his shirt wanting to be able to feel his skin against yours. The younger boy simply just tore his shirt open from the front before using his tail to pull it off of his wings. You ran your fingers down his chest surprised to find numerous scars, some more fresh than others, and black marks like tattoos all across his pale skin. 

He watched you patiently as you took in his features. “You should be scared of me.” He said quietly, glancing down at his own scars being reminded of the many atrocities he had experienced and caused. 

You looked back at him with a small smile. “I’m not afraid Yeonjun. You're beautiful” you responded, tracing a scar with your fingers. Yeonjun nodded before smirking once more. “Well, not yet you’re not princess.” 

You lifted an eyebrow but before you could question him, Yeonjun was pulling down your panties. You blushed now being fully exposed to him so quickly. 

Yeonjun licked his lips as he realized how wet you were for him. “Ah… darling… did you perhaps want this all along hmm?” he said as he ran his claws down your thighs scratching them but not enough to draw blood. “Pretty girl.” He cooed, pulling your panties all the way off. 

You turned your head away slightly embarrassed at the situation. Yeonjun wasn’t able to use his hands to finger you, so instead he opted for his tongue, pulling your legs apart to kiss and lick at your heat. You moaned at his actions, clutching at the sheets because of the sudden pleasure of friction against your clit. He licked you fully, including using his tongue to push into you slightly which felt so good that you reached down to push his head down more. Yeonjun seemed to enjoy this slight dynamic change, licking at you like you were the only meal he had had all day. 

After a few minutes of this, Yeonjun came back up to face you. He licked his lips again. This time you caught a glimpse of his elongated canines. 

Yeonjun leaned into you, wrapping his arms around you suddenly. He was holding you as if he didn't want to let go. You felt him begin to rut against you again. His cock was still unbelievably hard. “y/n.” He panted “I won’t be able to stop once I start. You have to trust me if things become… frightening.” 

You nodded, rubbing his arms in reassurance. You weren’t sure exactly what he was trying to say but there wasn’t anything you could do about it now and the truth is, you didn't want him to stop anyway.

Yeonjun sat back up and began to pull down his pants. You desperately wanted to see what you hadn't yet been able to see. You were sure his cock was just as pretty as he was. You watched curiously until the lights began to flicker. Just as his length was about to come into your view everything went pitch black and you could feel as Yeonjun pushed his bare cock against your heat. You whined and the younger boy groaned both of you finally feeling the relief of skin-to-skin contact.

He continued this for a moment making sure to lubricate himself with your wetness before you felt the tip of his cock pushing at your entrance. He pushed in slowly at that’s when you realized something was different. The head of his cock was slender and more pointy than normal and as he pushed into you you could feel bumps and ridges that were more than just veins along the sides of his cock. This was curious to you but it felt much better than normal.

He was going slow but still, you felt so full already. You heard him moaning quietly above you as he bottomed out. You whined at the stretch. It didn't hurt but it was enough to leave you wanting just a little bit more.

The lights flickered back on but everything was dimmer than before. You met Yeonjun’s eyes and without notice, he began fucking into you. He wasn’t being rough yet, but the bumps on his cock rubbed the inside of you in ways you had never felt before. You couldn’t help yourself from letting out quiet moans as his cock slid in and out of you easily.

The younger boy leaned into your neck again as he fucked you. “God fuck. You’re so good, baby. Taking my cock so well.” He whispered into your ear. “Ah- yeonjun,” you moaned back, shuddering as his breath tickled your ear once again. 

He continued to fuck into you harshly but surprisingly it never really hurt. You felt full, hot and so much pleasure. You felt like you could cum at any second with one perfect stroke or one brush against your clit. You’d never felt anything like this and it felt so good. You wondered briefly if Yeonjun had any control over your pain and your pleasure.

Yeonjun pulled back after a moment to push your legs up. You squeaked at this sudden change and how much deeper it felt. You dug your fingernails into Yeonjun’s skin which elicited a slight growl of pleasure. 

His eyes were almost animalistic. Maybe this is what he had been talking about. That was until you felt a sudden throbbing in your heat. The throbbing was coming from his cock. For a moment you wondered if he was cumming?

The lights began to flicker again and you felt it as his cock pushed against your walls. His cock was growing, stretching you around double what it had been. It was overwhelming and a little bit painful. Your mind swirling with a mix of emotions and feelings you squeezed your eyes shut to dull the pain.

“Take it, princess.” He said with a devious smirk. “I’m not finished with you yet.” 

You whined at tears pricked at your eyes from the pain. It wasn’t overwhelming yet but it still hurt. But god you felt so full and the friction only made you hotter. You didn’t want him to stop, not that he would anyway. You just wanted more and more of him.

“Fuck.. Yeonjun” You cried, gripping the sheets around you unable to really reach him at the moment. 

He fucked into you aggressively. You could hear him panting as he thrust. You moaned as tears ran out of your eyes onto the pillow below. 

The younger boy reached down and wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling a whimper from you. This sudden intimate position caught you off guard. In return, you once again tugged on his hair. He groaned in pleasure. He had you basically folded in half pushing your physical boundaries to the edge. 

Yeonjun’s thrusts began to get shakey and you wondered if he was close now. You quickly lost sight of this question when you once again felt that you were becoming impossibly fuller except now this was only at the base of his cock and it was rubbing directly against your g-spot. 

“Fuck Yeonjun. I- I-“ you moaned as the feeling overwhelmed you. 

“There you go pretty.” He said, his voice dripping in lust. “Good girl.” 

Your head was spinning the sudden pleasure mixing with pain overwhelming you and orgasm approaching quickly.

“Yeonjunie- please. please I want to cum.” You whined, clawing at him desperately.

“Fuck, baby.” He said in response thrusting impossibly harder and faster. The sudden begging caught him off guard and encouraged him.

He grabbed a fist full of your hair before tugging harshly and in a deep raspy growl all he said was “Cum.” 

His knot pressed harshly into your g-spot along with his undeniable command causing you to see stars, waves of pleasure wrecking your body as your orgasm hit you. Your body was overstimulated and felt like it melting.

“Good girl.” was all you could process from above you as you came. Your tightening around him caused Yeonjun’s orgasm to come quickly after you. But in the heat of the moment, you grabbed the younger boy by the horns and pulled him in to kiss you. 

He kissed you roughly as he came, filling you up with his own heat. The feeling was euphoric, almost better than your orgasm. You still just wanted more despite being so full and wrecked. He continued to kiss you as you both came down slowly from your high. That was until he realized that you were no longer kissing him back. 

He pulled back quickly realizing his mistake. He looked at you in horror as you lay there limply. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” Yeonjun said in a panic, fear running down his spine, “God fuck.” 

He had forgotten in a moment of weakness that kissing, especially along with sex, was the fastest way for an incubus to suck the life from its prey. And here you were, lying motionless in his arms.

He lifted your head and ran his fingers through your hair softly. “y/n, I’m sorry. I- I- didn’t mean to I swear.” Yeonjun began to cry, tears quickly running down his face. He didn’t want to be like the other ones. He didn’t want to hurt people. To kill people. He really didn’t want to hurt you. You were the only one who hadn’t been afraid of him. You were different. "I swear I didn't mean to. Please," he begged.

All you knew was that you had been kissing him when suddenly you felt very weak and felt yourself beginning to lose consciousness. Your head was throbbing and dizzy as you felt his tears dripping onto your face as he hung his head above yours. You could hear the younger boy sobbing quietly, strings of desperation slipping from his mouth. “Yeonjunie.” you managed to whisper out. “Please don’t cry.”

The younger boy lifted his head. “y/n?” He choked out between tears. 

You worked hard to get your eyes open, only to see the fully human boy once again. His hair was messy, his skin no longer scarred, no wings or tail, his face was red, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

He gently pulled you into his arms, both of you still naked and messy. He stroked your head as he continued to cry. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you please don’t be afraid of me.” You felt him trembling.

You let out a small huff of a laugh. “I’m not afraid yeonjun. I’m not afraid at all.” You replied as you placed a reassuring hand on his cheek and wiped his tears with your thumb. You stayed like this for a minute, Yeonjun must have been taking the time to calm himself down.

Yeonjun carefully picked you up and carried you back to the shower where this time he helped wash you and kept you standing. You still felt so weak but having him take care of you felt so good. You couldn't help but want to soak up every single moment of attention he was giving you.

He gave you water and carried you back to the bedroom before getting into bed with you and holding you close.

You reached up to play with his hair because you could tell he liked it before. Sure enough, his head leaned into your touch, following your hand in a silent cry for the much-needed comfort. But while cuddling into him you began to dose off. 

“I know we just met but… I hope you don’t plan on getting rid of me…” the younger boy said quietly. “Demons… we create really deep bonds you know… and nobody has ever not been afraid of me like that before.”

You weren't sure if Yeonjun had meant for you to hear him or not. But it didn't matter because you had no desire to leave.

You smiled and leaned up to kiss him once more. You held his face in your hands squishing his cheeks a bit. “I told you I’m not afraid Yeonjun. So now it’s your turn to not be afraid.” You said teasing him gently for his insecurity. 

You weren’t sure if you were under the spell of the young incubus or if what you were feeling right now was real or a dream but it didn’t matter. The handsome boy with fluffy hair or the demon with bat wings and horns, either way, you couldn’t help but smile as he held you closely. He nuzzled you before adjusting so your head was lying on his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of him rubbing your back. You decided that even if this was all a dream, it was one that you wanted to have again and again or never wake up from.

[spicysourchimken]

Murder! Murder! Murder!

TRIGGER WARNING: discussions of death, murder, descriptions of corpses, gore and corpse desecration

(This Idea is loosely inspired by @/the-witchhunter's 'Ghost in the Morgue', please go check it out if you like this concept and have not yet read it)

[Other stuff in this AU: World Building]

Corpses au Danny, not just Corpse but Corpses. Every time Danny transforms he drops a new body, Danny honestly has lived with it long enough that it's funny at this point (and also. maybe made him a little weird about his own death and or deaths). This is not the same for Tim, who now has to deal with a potential serial killer.

Tim is looking into a string of strange and suspicious deaths that might point to the appearance of a new rogue, this results in him taking a visit to the morgue as Red Robin, only to meet a potential victim, Daniel Fenton the latest medical examiner for GCPD.

----

Tim was the one who had found the first body a week ago. He'd been on patrol when he'd spotted it propped up against a dumpster in an alley. It couldn't have been there longer than an hour, the blood was far too fresh.

Tim had planned to just check out the scene and call it in, but then he actually saw the body. It'd been eviscerated, torso ripped open organs spilling out and its hands had been frozen to the ground- hell the entire body seemed to be coated in a layer of frost.

Tim kept tabs on the investigation, if anything for simple curiosity. Then they'd found the second body. Body frozen to the ground, same victim profile- but the death had been completely different. Slashed throat, face mutilated.

Then there was another, and this time Tim wanted to see it in person. This was either a serial killer or the start of a new rogue, and for Tim to be able to tell he needed to see. He sent word to Gordon, if anything more of a warning. He was greeted by the medical examiner.

Greeted was a strong word.

The medical examiner was... strange. Tim had heard news of him starting work and as far as Tim was aware of he was clean, and an almost boring person. The medical examiner that Tim met was unnerving. Pale, staring almost through him and carried blase attitude to his work.

What was worse is that he reminded so much of a corpse, not just a corpse but the corpse.

Then it struck him.

Fenton could be a target. Fenton could be the focus of the killer's obsession.

He'd have to keep tabs on Fenton, too bad he might be the most reckless Gotham citizen in existence.

----

Gotham, admittedly hadn't been Danny's first pick after he finished medical school. Danny had always intended to become a medical examiner, dealing with your own corpses for years would do that do you. 'Finished' was the real problem, Danny had been doing well, great even but then he'd died. Twice. Real unfortunate really, hit and run and then poison, left him with a dry throat for weeks.

His own classmate apparently tried to kill him, which means it would be more than hard to actually finish medical school. That's fine, he had access to Tucker, an actual godsend who was able to make it look like he had all the proper qualifications... as long as you didn't look too hard.

Gotham was apparently pressed for a good medical examiner. All he needed to be was experienced.

Thankfully he had that in spades.

Things frankly only started going down hill last week. He'd made a habit of taking on requests between work, occultist avoided Gotham like the plague leaving him the only voice for the dead. Usually it was pretty easy gig, collect some momentos, help a few ghosts recognize they're dead. Until he'd had to deal with a Wraith.

It didn't go well. Danny was dead set on handling it as a human, appearing as Phantom could cause all matter of chaos. Danny had also not been informed that the claws of a wraith could pierce through human flesh so there's that. Danny was once again evicted from the mortal coil, dropping his own corpse and having to finish the fight off

Danny had planned to deal with his body after gaining his human form back and making sure that the thing could no longer return to the earthly plane. Turns out a bat got there first, turned the place into a crime scene. Just his luck he was beaten bloody enough to be unrecognizable.

His luck continued to go down hill when he was killed, not once, not twice but three times (this of course, wasn't accounting for the times he'd needed to go ghost). He'd gotten good at taking care of his bodies in Gotham at that point, or so he thought, until he was told he had not only a new body on his table and Red Robin waiting to be escorted to his morgue.

Now Danny has to juggle the growing chaos that it they spirits of Gotham while trying to make sure none of his bodies are identified, even if that means making a mess of Red Robin's investigations.

[hp-hcs]

Reader (male preferably) x T.N and M.R

Where reader gets into fights a lot. Like a lot. Almost double the amount that Theo and Matt get in combined in just a week. The only reason Dumbledore lets him stay at Hogwarts is because he’s top of every class. What bugs a lot of his peers is the fact that he doesn’t try. He doesn’t study, he just gets it straight up, he barely shows up to class, he fights everyone and anything that speaks bad about the slytherin house, and he’s got the face every guys jealous of. Reader is just made to make people mad, is how he’d be described. But he’s not aggressive. He doesn’t lose his temper easy, it’s just when his house or Theo and Matt are mentioned that he loses it. It’s like a trigger going off in his brain, to protect what’s his. And Merlin does that turn them on.

NSFW (optional)

Reader loves to mark them as his. To have everyone be able to see the dark hickeys or slowly healing bite marks. To display a type of claim over the two. They’re his. And he knows exactly how to make them feel good. Make them writhe for him. Degrading Mattheo while edging Theodore, wrapping his bloodied hands around their throats while he pushes them up against the wall. Fuck and when he’s all beaten up after a fight? They can’t fucking resist him.

• smut • bloody knuckles — poly! sub! sweetie pie! theodore nott x poly! sub! brat! mattheo riddle x gn! poly! dom! reader

❕no pronouns or gender/assigned sex markers of any kind!❕

warnings: SMUT MDNI, BLOOD KINK JFC IS THERE A GODDAMN BLOOD KINK IN HERE, same with degradation holy fuck, pain(?) kink, violence, mild descriptions of gore/wounds, usage of the word ‘blood’ or ‘bloody’ approximately 12000000 times, THE BOYS ARE ROMANTICALLY & SEXUALLY INVOLVED WITH EACH OTHER, some pretty aggressive dom/sub roles for ya silly little deviants

i don’t know why i gave the boys pure opposite personalities. the dichotomy of man, i guess.

this is quite easily the filthiest fucking thing i’ve ever written, and i was too embarrassed to let my allosexual boyfie edit/help with this one so it’s real bad 😬 enjoy your asexual-written smut? ig? i did my best, anon, i’m so sorry

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Seamus Finnegan was not expecting to start off his Monday morning with a broken nose.

To be fair though, it was kind of his fault. I mean, six years of school together and the boy still decided to run his mouth without a single care in the world.

“Heard Riddle’s a slut. That true?”

Your head snapped up and a furious look crossed your face. “What?”

“Hot though,” Seamus shrugged. “‘s why y’keep ‘im ‘round, yeah?”

Your hands clenched into fists down by your sides.

“He a good fuck, at least?” Seamus asked carelessly, seemingly unaware of your brewing anger. “I bet ‘e is. Think ‘e’d put out?”

Before anyone could even blink, you had Finnegan down on the ground. His face quickly became the victim of your furious fists.

He tried to shove you off, but you just smacked his hands away and got a solid hit to the center of his face, punctuated by the sound of snapping cartilage.

Blood rushed in your ears and the crowds fell away as you focused solely on Make him pay. Make him pay. Make him pay.

You were abruptly brought out of your bloodthirsty rage by a pair of arms wrapping themselves around your torso and yanking you off of Seamus.

You spun around in anger, the question of who the fuck-? dying on your lips when you saw the concerned face of Theodore Nott, and the bright red face of Mattheo Riddle.

~~~

“Darling-”

“Shut up, it’s my love language,” you pouted.

Theo rolled his eyes fondly, leading you by your shoulders into their dorm’s bathroom. “You know we can handle ourselves, love. You’ve met both of our fathers; we’ve had much worse than some Irish pipsqueak theorizing about our sex lives.”

“Well, I thought it was hot.” Mattheo interrupted with a cheeky grin. “Our badass lover who’s willing to throw down with a Gryffindor to protect our honor? Proof that chivalry isn’t dead.”

“Well, I just don’t want other people talking about you like that,” you scowled.

“We know, love,” Theo grinned, crouching down to dig the first aid kit out from under the sink, patting your thigh in a patronizingly reassuring gesture. “Now, lemme see how bad it is.”

You huffed in faux annoyance, holding out your bloody hands in front of you and lifting your chin so he could see the state of your face.

Theo sighed and began his millionth lecture of the day as he started dabbing antiseptic ointment on the few small scrapes scattered across your face.

Mattheo was unusually quiet, adding nothing to the playful bickering between you and Theo.

You glanced over at him, only to find that he was practically enraptured, staring at your hands. His eyes followed a single bead of blood’s meandering path down your knuckles and fingers, watching as it dripped off the tip of your index finger and splattered onto the tile floor.

You could’ve sworn you saw him lick his lips.

You traded a knowing look with Theo before speaking. “Whatcha looking at, Matty?”

His cheeks flushed red and his gaze snapped back up to your eyes. “Nothing!”

You took a step forward. He took a step back.

“Oh, really?”

He gulped.

You reached forward to rest a hand on his shoulder, gently pressing him up against the wall. “A blood kink, huh? Shit, you really are a slut, love.”

Mattheo looked down, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

You gripped his chin and forced his head up to look at you. His eyes widened in surprise at the firmness of your grasp.

You pressed two blood-streaked fingers against his lips, groaning at the sight of his tongue instinctively darting out to kitten-lick them.

“Shit, Matty,” Theo whispered from behind you.

You trailed your fingers down his jaw and the side of his neck before loosely wrapping your hand around his throat.

He gasped and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Y-Y/n-”

“You like this? Hm?” You crooned as the blood on your hand smeared onto the skin of his neck.

Mattheo nodded frantically—as much as he could with the limited range of motion.

“That’s fucking disgusting, Riddle. What a filthy fucking boy.”

(He whimpered. He fucking loved it when you called him by his last name.)

You let go of his neck, stepping back and leaving him with a pleading whine caught in his throat as you turned to your other boyfriend.

“And Theodore, my pretty little angel,” you cooed softly, running your fingers through his hair and cupping his cheek. “How’s my little lovebug doing?”

He watched you with wide eyes, his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips. “Y-Y/n…”

You ran your thumb over his cheekbone, smiling softly. “Answer my question, pretty boy.”

“I-I’m doing good, love,” Theo whispered, his voice cracking as you trailed your thumb down the side of his neck and swept it across his collarbone.

You abruptly pulled your hand away, spinning on your heel and leaving the en-suite without another word.

Your boys followed you into the dorm room like lost puppies, trailing after you with confused and needy expressions.

You sat down on one of the beds, lying back against the pillows with a relaxed and unbothered expression on your face. “Teddy, over here. Matty, go sit in the chair.” You waved your hand towards the desk chair, lazily motioning for Theodore to take off his shirt and join you on the bed.

Mattheo pouted and whined. “What? But- darlin’, I’ve been-”

“A greedy bitch,” you scoff as you yanked off Theo’s trousers and boxers in one swift motion, rolling him over onto his back. “Now sit down and wait your damn turn. Don’t you dare touch yourself. You’d better keep your hands where I can fucking see them.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned back to your other lover. You ignored Mattheo’s protesting whines in favor of wrapping your fingers around Theo’s dick, appreciating the way Theo’s hips jerked up with a startled moan and his hands scrabbled for anything to hold onto as you did so.

“Riddle. I changed my mind. Get the fuck over here.” You snap, narrowing your eyes at the boy wiggling uncomfortably in his seat. “Hold Teddy’s hand.”

He jumped into action, quickly clambering onto the bed next to the pair of you and scooping up one of Theo’s hands in his.

You nodded, pleased at his cooperation, and slowly started jerking Theo off.

“Pretty, isn’t he, Matty?”

You expected him to say something in agreement, or tease Theo lightly, but your question was met with silence.

You glanced over, curious as to what caught his attention. Mattheo’s eyes were laser focused on Theo’s lower half. You followed his line of sight, confused as to what he was looking at, when you realized.

The blood from your busted knuckles had smeared itself all over Theo’s cock.

“Suck Teddy off.” The demand left your lips before you could even fully think it through.

Neither boy seemed disinterested in your proposition, if the way Mattheo all but scrambled down the bed as he leapt onto your boyfriend was any indication.

Mattheo kneeled between Theo’s thighs and pinned down his hips, practically drooling at the perverse sight in front of him.

Theo moaned brokenly as he felt Mattheo’s tongue lick a long stripe up his dick before taking him fully into his mouth. You hummed appreciatively at the gorgeous view in front of you, reaching out to stroke your hand along Theo’s hip and thigh.

The dorm was quickly filled with the sweet sounds of Theodore’s little moans and sighs, and the filthy wet sounds of Mattheo’s mouth.

He drew Theo closer and closer to his release. But right as your sweetest lover’s body began to shake, you caught sight of one of your brat’s hands subtly sneaking between his legs. You growled, tightening your grip in his hair to warn him to pull off.

As soon as Mattheo pulled off of Theo’s cock, panting for air, you harshly grabbed his jaw and yanked his head up to face you.

“Greedy fucking whore,” you sneered, “I told you not to touch yourself. Apologize to Theo for being such a self-centered brat.”

“S-sorry! So-sorry! I-I’m sorry, T-Theo!”

“Good boy,” you murmur, petting his hair and lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. “Good, love. Continue.”

Mattheo let out a shaky breath, still reeling from the whiplash of your sudden gentleness as he leaned back down to continue his earlier ministrations.

He quickly realized why you’d been so suddenly sweet when he felt your hand start roughly palming him through his trousers. He whined around Theo’s cock, which in turn made Theodore gasp and moan loudly.

You grinned at your boys’ reactions as you leaned down to murmur in Mattheo’s ear, “You can cum if you get Teddy off, alright sweetheart?”

Sparked with renewed interest at the incentive, Mattheo resumed sucking off Theo with vigor. Theo’s thighs shook as he babbled incoherently, a mix of “Fuck!”s, “Merlin-”s, and “Y/n!”s.

“Good boys, that’s it,” you cooed sweetly, brushing sweaty curls off of Theo’s forehead. “You’re just so close, aren’t you, my love?”

Theo sobbed pitifully and nodded. “Pl-please- Y/n- please!”

“Go ahead,” you whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

With your permission, Theo fell apart with a loud moan, his entire body shaking and spasming. You continued palming Mattheo, intent on keeping good on your promise.

“Come whenever you’re ready, Riddle,” you murmured. He had pulled off of Theo by now, and stared up at you with wide, glazed-over eyes. You wiped a smear of cum from the corner of his lips with your thumb, grinning teasingly at the pair of them as you promptly stuck it in your mouth and swirled your tongue around the digit.

With one final moan, Mattheo’s body stiffened up and broke down into shudders as he was wracked with the force of his orgasm. His arms gave out and he collapsed onto the bed, tucking his face into the hollow where Theo’s thigh met his pelvis.

You gave both of your boys a minute to collect themselves, murmuring gentle praise as you littered their faces with soft kisses. “Both so good for me, my best boys. So perfect.”

You sat in a contented quiet for a few more minutes, just caressing them gently. But once their breathings had steadied out, they startled you by sharing a look and abruptly tugging you down and rolling over on top of you.

“Your turn now, love.”

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Taking Care - Part Four - human!Alastor x human!fem!reader

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Go to Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Hello! I know this chapter is quite long, but I realized that after writing it and decided not to split it into two separate chapters. Please make sure to pay close attention to the trigger warning, as the beginning is a bit intense. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable while reading it. I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

Words: ~6300 TW: time specific views on women, domestic abuse, murder, violence, gore, masturbation

Francis's footsteps echoed through the silent forest, his breath heavy as he was desperately looking for a way out. Alastor told him one single word after he untied him: Run. And that's what he did. He ran as fast as he could, hoping that maybe he could escape. Maybe there was still a chance for him, but frustration caught up to him when he realised there was not a single clue in his mind about which way to go. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel the adrenaline pumping in his veins. The scent of damp earth filled his nostrils, mingling with the coppery taste of fear on his tongue as he ran, his body numb against the biting cold. His breath caught in his throat as branches clawed at his skin, the sharp crack of twigs beneath his feet only deepening his sense of impending doom.

He stumbled, his legs weak from all the running, as he hardly hit the cold ground. He tried to get up, but his body felt weak, exhausted from all the running.

Whistles echoed in the forest, getting closer with every moment. The idea of escaping suddenly felt so dumb, the realisation painfully getting to him. Alastor knew this forest like the back of his palm - of course, he wasn't going to be worried that his victim would escape.

He cheerfully came closer, looking around like a cat toying with a mouse, pretending not to notice its futile attempts to escape.

He stopped whistling when he found Francis on the ground, crouching down to his level. He placed a hand on his shoulder with a gentle and yet...devious smile.

"My my my, look at you. You're completely out of breath. You look exhausted..."

Francis tried to find his words, but everything that came out was only panting. He couldn't even find the strength to stand back up on his own. He was completely worn out and at Alastor's mercy. "I... I can't... can't run anymore..." He managed to stammer out in between pants, his breaths coming out short and quick.

"Tired already?" Alastor’s voice dripped with mock concern, his fingers tracing Francis’s trembling shoulder like a predator savouring its prey. His smile turned sickly sweet, eyes narrowing in mock disappointment. "Such a shame," he sighed, brushing his fingers lightly over Francis’s skin. "We were just getting started... I had so many games planned for us."

Francis laid his head on the ground, tears starting rolling down his cheeks, as he sobbed, realising this was the end for him.

Alastor chuckled to himself as he noticed the tears rolling down Francis' face. Seeing him crying because of him...pleased him. With a sadistic smile, he put a hand under Francis' chin and lifted his face up, to make him look at him. "Aw...What's wrong, my dear friend? Why are you crying?"

"Please..." he managed to say. "Please, don't..."

Alastor only smiled, leaving his head to fall back on the ground. With a hard kick, he hit the man in the stomach, making him roll over on his back, screaming in pain. "Now, now... No need to make such a fuss..." Alastor's heel dug into his stomach, keeping him in place. He leaned over him, looking down with an overly calm smile.

The man's eyes fell on the big object in his arms, the moonlight making it shine. "You've noticed my pretty little friend here..." He lifted the axe up just a little, waving it from side to side, as a way to taunt him. But Francis didn't react anymore, the last bit of hope in him leaving. He just stood there, looking at the sky, trying to ignore the horrible pain that shot through his body.

Alastor's smile faded slightly, and he huffed in disappointment. "Ah, you're no fun... I expected more of a reaction out of you. I guess you've completely given up at this point."

Alastor raised the axe high, watching as the moonlight glinted off the blade, savouring the moment just before impact, the tension thick in the air. The axe bit deep into Francis’s shoulder, and the forest reverberated with a scream so raw it sent a shiver down Alastor’s spine. He paused for a moment, savouring the sound, his breath catching in the thrill of control. "Ah, there it is," he whispered to himself, almost tenderly, "A voice worth breaking."

He repeated the motion, the axe came down hard on Francis's other shoulder, and with a sickening crack, the bone shattered. The snap echoed through the trees like the snapping of a dry branch, followed by Francis's agonized scream. His body convulsed in shock, blood quickly soaking through his shirt as the jagged ends of his broken clavicle pressed against the torn muscle. Each blow sent shockwaves of pain through Francis’s body, his nerves alight with agony, but there was something worse—the suffocating realization that this was the end, that nothing would stop the next swing from severing the last thread of life clinging to his body.

Alastor's blows became erratic, but Francis's body was unable to react anymore, the shock slowly overcoming it. Slowly, his screams began to fade, the sickening sound of the axe hitting his body slowly conquering them.

Alastor raised the axe high, grinning as he swung it down with all his might toward Francis's neck. The first strike tore through skin and muscle, but it wasn't enough. Francis's head lolled to the side, blood pouring from the jagged wound, his eyes wide and glassy. Alastor, undeterred, pulled the axe out with a wet sound, and swung again. This time, bone crunched, and the head fell, rolling a few inches away from the twitching body.

The silence finally settled back over the forest, as Alastor's ragged breath echoed slightly. He took a few steps back, crouching next to a tree, trying to catch his breath. As the blood pooled around the lifeless body, Alastor’s mind began to wander, the rush of violence slowly melting into something else—something darker. His thoughts turned to you.

The adrenaline pumped through his veins, his skin burning against his clothes, a feeling of arousal slowly filling his body. He palmed his clothed, erected cock, the thought of you finding him like this, even if impossible, intoxicating him.

He wished you'd see what he's done for you, only for you. You deserved to know what kind of man he was, what he was willing to do for you. He’d let you watch, let you decide the fate of those who hurt you. He wasn’t just killing pests—he was erasing anyone who dared to dirty your world. Even if you didn’t ask for it, even if you begged him to stop, he’d continue… because he knew what was best for you.

His breath quickened, heat pooling in his body as his thoughts fixated on you. He convinced himself that you'd understand, that you'd appreciate how far he'd go for you. His hands twitched, craving the touch of something more—of you, of your approval. He leaned back, eyes half-lidded, letting the thought of you fill every corner of his mind. You’d see him for who he really was—the one who protected you, the one who cared for you enough to stain his hands with blood. The idea of you watching him, knowing his devotion, made his pulse race.

A low sound rumbled from his chest as your face flashed through his mind. His breathing grew heavier, the intensity of his fixation on you overwhelming him. His desire wasn’t just physical—it was something more profound, a twisted need for you to see him, to understand why he did this. The violent act itself was for you, and that thought alone pushed him over the edge, his body trembling with dark satisfaction.

This wasn’t just about the kill—it was about you, about proving his devotion in ways no one else could. Bloodied hands meant he was worthy, a protector who'd stain his soul so yours could remain pure. You had to see him, understand him. Only then would you realize how deeply he cared.

A few more pumps, and he finished. His hand slick with cum, a loud moan escaped him, the pleasure crashing through his body. His mind cleared, the intoxicating rush now replaced with a cold, creeping unease. He took deep, ragged breaths, staring at the sticky mess on his hand. For a moment, he allowed himself to linger in the afterglow, the dark warmth of victory washing over him. But the pleasure didn’t last, couldn’t last. It curdled in his chest, the weight of what he’d done sinking in.

Shame gnawed at him, creeping in slowly like a cold fog, wrapping tighter with each breath. At first, he tried to push it away, tried to bask in the satisfaction, but it lingered, curling around his gut, pressing deeper. He had never felt this kind of arousal after a kill before—it felt foreign, wrong in a way that unsettled him. His fist clenched reflexively, trying to dismiss it as adrenaline, a momentary lapse, but there was a darker whisper at the back of his mind. A whisper that told him this feeling wasn’t just a fluke. Maybe, just maybe, this was who he truly was.

At first, the satisfaction drowned out the guilt, a dark warmth spreading through him. But as the adrenaline ebbed, something colder took its place, gnawing at him. This...this wasn’t just about them. It was about you. The thought curdled in his stomach, the lingering pleasure twisting into something he wasn’t ready to face.

"Damn it..." he muttered quietly, wiping the cum on his bloodstained trousers. For a moment, he stood still, his breath uneven, his mind clouded with the lingering thought of you. The fantasy of you accepting this part of him, even enjoying it, clung to his mind like a shadow, but deep down, he knew better. You’d never understand why he did this, why he needed to do this—for you. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he resigned himself to waiting. He wouldn’t force you, not yet. You could play your part however you wanted, but in the end, it was always going to be him deciding how this game would finish. You might not know it yet, but he would make sure you saw—one way or another.

You looked at your own reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning your face for every sign that the bruise was still visible. You moved your head from side to side, comparing each cheek just to see if one was more swollen than the other.

It wasn’t the first time you had done this, and a part of you wasn’t sure if it would be the last. You had learned how to hide your scars—painful, vivid reminders of a past you desperately wanted to escape. As you turned your head, you could almost feel the sting of past hands and the echo of past words. Would Alastor’s touch always remain gentle? Or would the softness of his hand one day become something else?

Even if it wasn’t him, it would be someone else—this was your fate. You were destined to serve and nurture him, no matter the pain you might endure.

You looked at your reflection—you were pretty. Especially now that you looked like someone else. You didn’t resemble the waitress who had narrowly escaped assault the night before or the woman who had been abused throughout her childhood. Tonight, you looked like someone who could attend a fancy party without a care in the world.

And if you were honest, you didn't quite dislike it at least for a night.

You checked the clock: 19:35. You've been ready for twenty minutes already. There was not a single thing you could've checked anymore, but where was he?

He wasn't too late, but you expected him to be earlier here. That's why you got ready so fast. But you would've spent a few more minutes inside, just so you wouldn't seem too eager to see him.

But he wasn't here. The anxiety crept on you when you thought that maybe he just lied, to make a fool out of you. Or maybe he was sick, and since he doesn't have your phone number, he couldn't announce you.

You looked at your reflection once again. Would he like you? Maybe it was too much makeup. Maybe you should've done something more discreet. Or maybe it wasn't enough. No, no, less is better. Your products weren't that expensive anyway so putting too much might make you look like a cheap woman.

Your hand ran over the pearls on your neck, as your eyes fell on the other pair you had to choose between. You thought for a moment if you should change them. The simple, white ones were good and classy. But the green ones were more vibrant. No, keep these ones. Classy is better.

He's not coming.

The room suddenly felt warmer as you thought about it. The dress suddenly felt itchy and the shoes were uncomfortable. Maybe you should change them, but you had to try more pairs on to decide... No, it's too late for that.

19:40.

The black gloves on your hands were long, simple, above your elbow. You've seen many actresses wearing them and you really liked it. But... did they make your hands look weird? You looked at your hands. They kind of do, you thought.

19:42.

Maybe you should take them off... But what if everyone wears them? No, you'll take them off there if that's the case. But you should take some rings with you then... To wear them on your bare hands. But maybe...

A knock.

Your heart stopped. You quickly got up, looking around yourself, making sure you didn't forget anything.

Another one.

You ran to the door, glancing into your purse to make sure you had your lipstick.

Another knock.

You open the door. When Alastor finally appeared, his smile felt like a beacon in your swirling sea of anxiety. You couldn't help but smile back, your mind going blank for just a moment. He looked so marvellous in this black suit, a crimson shirt underneath the coat.

As Alastor’s eyes lingered on you, a wave of conflicting emotions surged through you. Could this really be a new beginning? Or was this just another façade, hiding the same pain you had always known?

"You look absolutely ravishing, my dear~" he finally spoke, his smooth voice and charming Southern accent making every word even more pleasant. The warmth of his compliment was a stark contrast to the chill of your past, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of whether this moment was a fleeting illusion or a step toward something real. He leaned down as he always does, taking your hand into his, and placing a small kiss on your wrist, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chuckled. "Oh, you’re too kind!"

"Forgive me for being late, my dear. That little ol' car refused to start."

"It's alright," you said locking the door behind you. He took your hand and looped it around his arm, holding you close to his side. As he walked, his eyes occasionally glanced at you, still admiring the way you looked. He chuckled to himself quietly, unable to tear his eyes away.

"You really do look amazing," he said, his voice soft and sincere. "Those pearls, that black dress... and those shoes-" He let out another chuckle, his eyes falling on your shoes. "I have quite a weakness for a woman in nice shoes."

Your cheeks burnt as you tried to content your smile at his words. "You're flattering me... I'm sure every woman there would outshine me in no second."

He huffed in amusement, glancing down at you. "Oh, you are far too humble," he teased, "but I must say, I’m quite happy that you’re the one I’ll have on my arm all night." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "And for the record, I truly doubt any woman there could outshine you, my dear. I’m willing to bet everything on it."

You only smiled at his words as he opened the car door for you. As you stepped into the car, Alastor's eyes followed you, admiring the way you moved, the way the light from the streetlamps hit your face, making your skin glow. He chuckled quietly to himself, before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side, climbing into the car himself.

As he began to drive, he stole a glance at you, his smile widening slightly. "Feeling nervous, my dear?" he asked.

"A little... I’ve never been to a party like this before," you admitted.

He chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. "Ah, I see. Well, I can assure you, my dear, this party will be far more interesting than your average ones." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "But don't you worry? I'll be by your side the whole time, you won't have a thing to worry about. I promise."

You smiled at his words, your anxiety wearing off just slightly. You took the pocket mirror from your purse, checking again if the bruise is not visible.

"I must say, you’re quite the makeup artist," he chuckled. "You could probably give those beauty counter girls a run for their money." His voice pulled you from your trance.

"Yes, I... I was inspired by Greta Garbo... I really do appreciate her makeup style."

Alastor turned to you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Greta Garbo. Classy choice, my dear. She does have that elegant and timeless style." He chuckled and turned back to the road. "But that's not what I meant, darling."

You looked out the window for a moment, thinking of what to say. "It takes time to master hiding bruises... but once you learn, it’s quite a useful trick, isn’t it?" you said, a small smile on your lips as you turned to face him.

He clenched his jaw, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly, the knuckles of his hands turning white. "Yes, I suppose it does..." he said, his voice low. "Although I must say, I'm not particularly fond of the reason for learning those tricks."

"Well... It's always good for a woman to have some tricks in the sleeve... for a reason or not."

Alastor huffed, his eyes darting to you for a moment before returning to the road. "Perhaps you’re right... but I still don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of a woman having to conceal her pain like that." He paused, his grip on the wheel tightening once more. "It bothers me, my dear. More than you can imagine."

Your eyes never left him. You rarely heard men talk like this and something told you it wasn't just an act - not just a game to try and earn your trust.

"There it is," you heard him say, his smile returning. He pulled the car to the side, his eyes returning to you as you scanned the somewhat concealed building, muffled jazz music drifting from inside. You could see some people at the entrance, talking and drinking, their exquisite attire making you feel a bit self-conscious.

"Don’t worry, my dear," he said softly, making you turn your attention to him. "You won’t have to worry about a thing inside."

You nodded and waited as Alastor got out of the car and walked over to your side. He opened the door for you, offering a hand to help you out. He chuckled as you stepped out, his eyes taking in the full view of your dress and the way it hugged your figure. "You really do look beautiful, my dear..." he murmured, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

You made your way inside, as Alastor walked by your side, his hand hovering gently on the small of your back as he guided you to the entrance. He spoke to the bouncer, a word or two exchanged between them, before the bouncer nodded and moved out of the way, allowing you both to step inside.

As you walked in, Alastor leaned down slightly, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. "Just stick with me, my dear. I'll take care of everything."

As you step inside, the room greets you with a haze of cigarette smoke and the rich, brassy pulse of jazz. The low murmur of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air, blending with the lively swing of a trumpet from the corner stage. Dim lighting casts shadows across the faces of well-dressed men and women, their pearls gleaming in the smoky glow, flappers in silk dresses twirling on the dance floor. The scent of cheap whiskey and perfume merges into the heady atmosphere. You feel the electricity in the air—a sense of freedom, rebellion, and secrecy as if you’ve entered a hidden world.

"It's a speakeasy, right?" you asked as Alastor leaned in to hear you more clearly.

"Yes, my dear," he said, his lips brushing gently against your ear. "One of the more elegant ones, if I do say so myself."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as you stepped into the speakeasy for the first time, despite the knowledge of its illicit nature. The thrill of the forbidden, coupled with the allure of the hidden world before you, made your heart race with both anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

As you and Alastor made your way through the speakeasy, his eyes scanned the crowded hall, taking in the sights and sounds. It wasn’t long before something caught his attention—a lively figure in the middle of the room, surrounded by a small group of admirers. Alastor recognized her instantly: Mimzy.

Alastor’s grip on your back tightened as he observed Mimzy. Dressed in a dazzling silver dress with intricately curled blonde hair, her laughter echoed through the room. A group of men hung on her every word.

Alastor leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear. "You see that woman over there?" he murmured, his eyes never leaving Mimzy. You looked in the crowd, as your face lit up at the sight.

"Is that... really Mimzy?"

Alastor nodded."Indeed it is, my dear," he confirmed, his voice low. "She's quite the social butterfly, isn't she?"

"Can I... Can I meet her?" you asked, like an excited child.

"Of course, my dear," he said, his hand gently guiding you towards where Mimzy was standing. "But I must warn you, Mimzy can be a bit... much."

Your smile grew wider as you approached. "Oh, Alastor... I've always wanted to meet her!"

He led you towards the group of people around Mimzy. The woman's sharp eyes caught sight of you both, a smile immediately lighting up on her face.

"Well, well, well!" Mimzy said, her eyes darting between you and Alastor. "Alastor, fancy seeing you here!"

Alastor chuckled, his charismatic smile never faltering. “Mimzy, it’s been quite a while.” The group around her dispersed quickly, the men obviously intimidated by Alastor's presence, but Mimzy stayed put, her eyes locked on yours.

“And who is this lovely lady you have with you~?” She questioned, tilting her head.

Alastor chuckled, his hand still gently resting on your back. "This lovely lady is my companion for the evening," he said, his smile never once wavering. Mimzy's eyes darted to you, taking in your appearance. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she looked you up and down. She stepped a little closer, a sly smirk on her face. “You know, Alastor, you never told me you had a lady.” She chuckled, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes flickering between the two of you.

Your cheeks started to burn at her remark, the way she was acting as if you weren't even there made you feel a little insignificant. Alastor could sense where Mimzy was going with this, and he wasn't particularly thrilled about it. He tightened his grip on your back ever so slightly. "That's because it hadn't come up in conversation," he said, his voice still polite but cool.

Mimzy laughed, her eyes still on you. “Oh, Alastor, you’re such a gentleman. Not one to kiss and tell, are you?” She stepped even closer, almost pressing up against you. “And what’s your name sweetheart? You seem far too pretty to be with someone like Alastor.”

You smiled politely at her. "My name is (Y/n). It's quite a pleasure to finally meet you! I've always been a fan."

Alastor's eyes flicked between you and Mimzy, his smile still in place but his patience was starting to wear thin. Mimzy let out an exaggerated gasp, her hand coming up to her chest, a fake look of shock on her face. "A fan, sweetie? Well, I'm flattered, really, I am. But how on earth did you end up with Alastor of all people?"

You were taken aback by her question, looking up at Alastor as if asking for some help, and you could slightly see his eye twitching as he eyes the woman.

"Um... We..." you started, not sure if you should tell how you two actually met. But before you could continue, he took a step forward, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "That's none of your concern, Mimzy," he said, his voice as polite as always, but with an undercurrent of steel.

Mimzy's eyes widened slightly as Alastor pulled you closer to him, a small frown tugged at the corner of her mouth. "My, my, Alastor, there's no need to get all defensive on me, I'm just simply trying to get to know your companion." She looked you up and down once more, her eyes lingering on Alastor's arm that was wrapped around you. "The two of you make an... interesting couple."

You looked away as you could feel the mockery in her voice. Alastor's smile faltered for a moment, his grip on you tightening imperceptibly. He knew Mimzy's intentions all too well. She was trying to get a rise out of him, and he was not going to give her the satisfaction. "We make a perfect couple," he said, his voice smooth but with an underlying menace. "And our business is no concern of yours, Mimzy.”

He leaned towards you. "Now, my dear, why don't we go order something?"

Alastor gently steered you away from Mimzy, who stood there with a mix of surprise and irritation on her face. He led you away towards the bar, ordering a drink for himself and a non-alcoholic cocktail for you. As he waited, his arm still around your waist, he turned to you.

"I apologize for Mimzy," he said, his voice low. You smiled softly, trying to stop thinking about it.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer her question about how we met... I didn't want to embarrass you," you said slightly, looking in the crowd.

Alastor chuckled softly, his arm giving you a gentle squeeze. "No need for apologies, my dear," he said, his voice low and amused. "I appreciate your consideration, but nothing is embarrassing about how we met. Mimzy just can't help but meddle in things that don’t concern her.”

You smiled at him as the bartender brought the drinks. "I'll be back in a moment, dear. Some associates are waiting for me," he said as he rubbed your back, walking towards a small group of men.

You turned your attention to Mimzy as she approached you, she stood beside you, leaning against the bar. "So," she said, her voice falsely cheerful. "I have to ask, sweetie. How'd you and Alastor meet?"

You smiled for a moment, thinking of an answer. Lying wasn't really an option as you would probably be easily caught with that, so you figured the truth, embarrassing for Alastor or not, would be the best. "We met at a diner..." you said bluntly, hoping that would satisfy her.

Mimzy's eyebrows raised in surprise, obviously not expecting such a mundane answer. "A diner? How... mundane. You're telling me you're dating Alastor - the most notorious and desired bachelor in the town - because you met him at a diner?"

You cleared your throat, looking at the coloured liquid in your glass. "We're not... dating."

Mimzy's eyebrows shot up in surprise once more, her interest piqued. "Wait, wait, wait," she said, stepping closer to you. "You're not dating? Don't tell me you hooked up with him or something?" She raised an eyebrow, silently judging you.

You frowned your eyebrows at her. "What? No..." you protested. "I..."

Mimzy smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye. "So, you’re just another notch on his belt? How charming." She chuckled, taking a sip from her drink. "Do you know how many girls have come and gone, thinking Alastor would fall in love with them? Oh, sweetie, the list is endless."

You looked away, your eyes kind of watery at her words.

Mimzy smirked as she saw your sudden change in expression. "Oh, don't tell me you thought differently? Alastor's a notorious ladies' man. He'll get what he wants from you, and then toss you aside like everyone else." She chuckled, taking another sip from her drink. .long list of conquests, sweetie."

"Mimzy?" Alastor's voice echoed from behind you, making her eyes widen in surprise.

"Alastor! I was just having a little chat with your... friend here."

"Quite the chat, I presume?" he asked, feigning nonchalance, but you could see the anger seeping through his calm expression.

"Well... I think I should go... It was quite the chat, dearie!" she said, quickly disappearing in the crowd, as your attention returned to the drink in front of you.

Alastor watched as Mimzy scurried off, a scoff leaving his lips. He hated the way she acted. His gaze returned to you, a frown on his face as he saw the downcast look on yours. He placed his hand on your back, gently rubbing a small circle between your shoulder blades. "Are you alright, my dear?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving the glass, not daring to look at him as your eyes threatened to spill a few tears.

He moved closer to you, his hand still rubbing your back, his other hand coming to gently rest on your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "Hey... look at me," he murmured, his voice soft and gentle, his expression filled with concern. "How about we go somewhere else?" he suggested and you nodded. The last thing you wanted was to break down here in front of so many people.

He gave a firm nod, and his hand moved to the small of your back, gently guiding you towards the exit. He led you out into the cool night air, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close.

As you walked away from the bustling speakeasy, he led you to the car, helping you get inside. He slid into the driver's seat, starting the car. He glanced at you, noticing your downcast expression. He reached over, gently grabbing your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

Hey," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "You know, you can talk to me, right? Whatever Mimzy said..."

"She said nothing... We just chatted for a bit..." you said, your eyes still on the window. He sighed and started driving, silence falling over you.

"Mimzy... can be a handful sometimes," he finally spoke."Don't listen to her words, my dear. She doesn't know the first thing about our relationship." You slightly looked at him for a moment, the "our relationship" feeling so wrong right now, but you stayed quiet.

You notice he takes a forest road, your heartbeat increasing slightly. "Where... where are we going?"

He glanced at you for a moment, noticing the slight change in your expression. He could sense your anxiety. "Somewhere more quiet," he answered, his voice calm and gentle. "A place where we can talk... without interruptions." The car slowly continued down the forest road, the only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the crunch of the gravel beneath the wheels.

You took one of your gloves off, playing with it as your mind raced. For a moment, the worst scenarios flooded your brain and the idea that there was nothing you could do was sending shivers down your spine.

The car came to a stop in what looked like a bayou. It was quite secluded and away from any passersby.

"We're here," he said, his voice soft, as he turned to look at you. You looked around, your eyebrows slightly furrowed. The place was beautiful, with fireflies dancing in the moonlight as it filtered through the dense foliage. The gentle sound of water lapping against the banks added to the serene, almost magical ambience of the setting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" His hand gently squeezed yours. "Come on." He opened the door and exited the car, walking around to your side and opening the door for you.

You cautiously got out, the chill air biting at your exposed sleeves. You took a few steps, and your eyes locked on a bush. You got a bit closer, only to be met with the sight of a few deers, peacefully grazing.

"Looks like we've got some company," he said quietly, watching as you got closer to the deer, snapping you out of your trance. He placed his coat around your shoulders, the warmth engulfing your body.

"What is this place?" you asked, turning to face him.

"This place," he said, his voice soft and tranquil. "Is a special place. A place where I come to... think, to be alone." He paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours. "I thought you might like it. It's quiet, calming, and... away from prying eyes."

You stepped back a bit. "Alastor... you got the wrong idea..." you whispered, looking at the ground.

He tensed slightly as you stepped back, a frown forming on his face. His smile faltered for a moment, surprised by your words. "What do you mean, my dear?" he asked, his voice slightly shaky. He stepped closer to you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what was going through your mind.

You sighed, trying to find your words. "Mimzy told me about... the choice of women you have," you said. "It's really not my interest to be here... just for a few nights."

His frown deepened as you mentioned Mimzy's words. He knew exactly what she might have told you and it angered him. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Is that what you think this is about?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and irritation. "You think you’re just another notch on my list?"

"If I'm being honest..." you said, freeing yourself from your grasp and making your way to the car, leaning against it. "I've only known you for a week... We haven't even talked outside of the diner. You can't blame for getting the wrong impression."

He took a step closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're right," he said, his voice slightly cold. "We haven't known each other for long. And yes, maybe you misunderstood my intentions." He paused for a moment, his eyes studying you intensely. "But is that really all you think I see you as? Just another one of my conquests?"

You looked down, a tear falling down your cheek. "What else could there be...?" you whispered.

"You honestly believe I brought you here just to use you and toss you aside?" he asked, his voice laced with indignation. "You think I'm that shallow, that callous?"

"I don't know, Alastor!" you snapped as you broke down. "Every damn man I met wanted nothing more from me! Should I even expect anything more?" your eyes opened wide as you realised you shouldn't have raised your tone. You quickly looked away, preparing yourself for the worst. But no pain came your way. No harsh words.

He took another step towards you, his hand gently caressing your face. "I'm not those... pathetic excuses for men, you've dealt with before, my dear."

You sighed. "I was supposed to marry someone... someone my father wanted, but I didn't..." you said. "He was rich, smart... any woman's dream... And I actually tried to get used to the idea... He nearly put me in a coma because I refused to be with him while he was drunk." A soft sob escaped your lips. "My parents disowned me... Called me a failure because I refused to be a punchbag like I was my entire life..."

You rested your head against his chest, Alastor's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. He felt your tears dampen his shirt, but he didn't care. Your words, the memories of your past abuse, hit him hard. He remembered the fear his mother felt, the pain she endured, just like you had. It made his heart ache and his anger flare.

"A woman's job is to obey..." you whispered. "That's what my father told me while I was in the hospital... Luckily, the bastard died before the wedding..."

He cupped your face with one hand, forcing you to look up at him. "You don't have to endure any more pain, my dear." His thumb gently brushed away a tear from your cheek. "Not anymore." Alastor’s gaze was intense, sending shivers down your spine. “I will take care of you, my dear. Like no one ever has before.”

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @starryhiraeth @lafy-taffy @harmfulb1tch @martinys-world @n0tmentallystable @xalygatorx @venusdandy @l3rittany @eris-norwega @maulsgf

[jokeringcutio]

DRABBLE/ Insomnia!READER X THE GRABBER

Fandom: Black Phone 2022

Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark!, Non-con/Dub-con, Forced!Blowjob, Smut, Insomnia!Reader, Kidnapped!Reader, Victim!Reader. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman, somnophilia, use of Little/good Girl.

AN: for @ninakuli How would the Grabber react if the reader couldn’t get to sleep? Well, this might be one of the ways.

->

“Can’t sleep?”

The rough voice made you look up from your position lying on the moldy mattress. You wondered how anyone could sleep here. A stranger’s house, a damp basement, an unknown environment. The walls were bare except for the painting peeling down. The tiny barred window that let in the only light, whether it was day or night because of the lamp that hung in front of it, was up too high. The walls absorbed any sound. It was a prison made with hellish barriers.

And then there was that stranger who came watching. You never knew when he would be down here. Never knew what he would do next. It had you on edge. How could anyone ever sleep when he was around?

So far, he’d mostly been down to watch you, talk to you, work on your mind until his words confused you and you started to believe you’d ended up here all because of your own doing. That you deserved being here.

But there had been that one time when you had pretended to have been asleep, eyes closed, in hopes he would become bored and turn away. But instead of leaving, you had heard his breathing deepen. And then you had felt his hand between your thighs, fingers pressing deep into your clothed skin until one finger curled against your covered cunt. You could still feel his fingertip press against your sensitive bud. The touch hadn’t lasted long, for you’d shot up instantly and his hand had been back by his side almost just as fast. But you were certain it had not been a dream.

And now you were scared of him. Frightened, that if you were to go to sleep, he might take you in it. That he might claim your body as his own when you could not fight back.

Anxiety ate you, piece by piece until it wrecked your nerves and made you shiver with fearful anticipation. Any sound would trigger a panicked reaction and would have you sit up and open your eyes. Because he is here again, isn’t he? Even when he wasn’t. You were constantly alert, ready to shy away from any advances he might try to make.

And so, you blinked up at him fearfully while you wondered what he would be doing next. He’d commented on your lack of sleep the past few times he’d been down there, annoyed that he couldn’t watch you sleep like he had the others. You didn’t know how many had been here before you, only that he somehow seemed to enjoy observing them when they weren’t awake.

Creep, you thought. You wondered if he got off of it. And why he couldn’t just enjoy you while you were awake?

Perhaps that had been a wrong thought to have, because what he said next made shivers run down your spine.

“I know just the thing.” Just the thing for what? To make you sleepy? You wondered for a moment if he referred to some kind of drug, or if he might just knock you out with one of his fists. But he did neither.

He cocked his head to the side, the mask’s chin pointed at his right shoulder. He was observing you, his stance pensively. What was he thinking? But then you regretted that thought when the man came over to you, coming closer than he had in the past few days.

“An ancient old medicine,” he said, voice low and gruff, while he started to unbuckle his belt. And that was the moment you realized what he might be implying. What he might want from you. He probably had wanted this all along.

Your eyes grew wide with fear as you tried to crawl back on the mattress until your back hit the wall and you couldn’t back away any further. “It has proven to be very effective over time,” his husky voice sounded. Then a chuckle emerged from behind the mask as he pushed his pants and underpants down to reveal an achingly hard cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip and glistening in the faint light that fell in from the window above.

The belt was wrapped around his right fist, the end of it dangling in front of you.

You tried to shield your eyes with your hands. “Please,” you begged when you noticed he’d stepped even closer and completely ignored the fact that you had tried to get away. “No, please,” his hand was upon your wrist, yanking it away to uncover your eyes. You looked up at him, tears glistening in your eyes, while you pleaded for him to spare you. “I’ll go to sleep,” you said, voice choked by tears. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll go to sleep. You don’t need to do this.”

He paused in his actions and there was that tilt of his head again as he studied you through the hole-eyes of the mask. The belt dropped from his hand and fell to the basement floor with a clank.

His right hand came up to your cheek and you flinched, afraid he might slap you there. But his touch was gentle, his palm lightly upon your skin. You opened your eyes again to look up at him mistrustingly and wished you could tell what kind of expression he held behind that darned mask he was wearing.

You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was taking his time, standing there, only inches away from you. He was gently caressing your cheek, his thumb tracing circles. The motion was soothing as if he was trying to comfort you. It worked as well, for you felt your shoulders relax somewhat, despite your brain being on full alert.

His other hand was holding his cock. The aching hard member twitched in his grip as a new spurt of pre-cum droplets emerged from the tip. You tried not to look at it, which was hard as his shaft was on eye-level with you, ready to be brought to your lips.

Would he do it? You wondered how far he would go. He hadn’t touched you before like this. He’d been mostly at a distance. Except for that one time. But it figured he would eventually succumb to these primal desires. Why else had he taken you? If it had been just to kill then he would have done so already. Why keep you alive if not for this?

You whimpered, slightly trembling under his caress. A low hum escaped the masked man, then he stood straight again and you saw him move his upper body. The vest he was wearing fell open, his naked stomach showed. Round, you thought, pudgy. Yet, the muscles that showed on his chest betrayed your kidnapper was a man of strength. A strength that was confirmed almost instantly when he suddenly reached for you.

You felt your head being yanked towards him, and his shaft that had been angled at your lips was now pressed against them, begging you to spread them wide. He kept pushing, roughly, until the meat was between your lips and the head of his cock was upon your tongue. The salty taste of flesh mixed with the bitterness of the pre-cum filled your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks. And then he started to thrust.

You looked up at him, pleading silently for his mercy. But at the sight of your tear-stained eyes, his thrusts grew even fiercer and his grip on your head even tighter. You were left with no alternative but to suck, accepting his cock deep inside your throat.

Low, deep rumbles came from the depth of his chest when you started to cooperate. He was pleased, humming and moaning ‘oh yeah’ and ‘just like that’. Sounds that vibrated through his cock until you felt them in your mouth.

Dirty, your mind provided you while he moved you up and down his shaft. The salty and bitter taste of him filled you completely. The curly hairs around his manhood pressed into your nostrils when he pushed your head forward, blocking off your chance to breathe. You sputtered around him, feeling the tip at the back of your throat, feeling his cock spasm between your lips.

You gurgled and sputtered, trying not to choke. A moment of respite when he slid your head back again and his cock nearly left your lips, but then he pushed forward again until his hips met your cheek and your nose was nestled deep within his pubic hair.

You gasped and tried to claw at his hips, but all you felt was how he kept a tight grip on your head and stilled his movements, leaving his cock deep between your lips, the head pushing the back of your throat.

The process repeated itself a few more times, until his cock finally slipped from your lips and you were left gasping for air. A trail of sperm and saliva dripped from your lips and ran down your chin. You moved your hand up to wipe it away, but he caught your wrist before you could get there.

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you heard a chuckle derive from behind the mask. “Na-ah,” the man tusked, his low gravelly voice making something twist deep inside you. A longing, a tingle that had you squeezing your legs together. A foreboding feeling washed over you, that he wasn’t finished just yet. That this was only the beginning.

“Leave it there,” the man hummed. The pause that followed felt too long, making you writhe uncomfortably while you waited for him to either speak or let go of your hand. In the end, he did both, nearly at the same time. “I think I will have to cover your face in a layer of my spunk next time,” there was that rasp again. You had heard it before, how he could slide from a normal, almost gentle tone, into a demonic rasp that was usually used when he was angry and full of curses. “Paint your face a nice white with my cum,” he clicked his tongue behind the mask. His voice became lighter again.

“But for now, there’s another way I have in mind to tire you.”

You shivered at the promise and tried to back away again. The man in front of you got hold of his throbbing cock, wrapping his left hand around it. You saw how his fingers curled around the glistening shaft, still covered in your saliva, and watched how the veins throbbed when he moved his hand up and down at a firm but gentle pace. The ring on his finger glinted in the weak light, skin rippling as he pumped his hand up and down his throbbing cock. Still hard. Balls underneath heavy with cum.

“Undress, sweetie,” he cooed, voice soft like honey.  But when you refused to do as he said, his tone turned drier and more menacing again.

What happened next was much of a blur. He made you undress for him, tweak your nipples for him, rub your hands up and down your bare chest for him while he watched and laughed and licked his tongue past his teeth at the show. His hand never ceased moving up and down slowly, hardening himself underneath his touch until he thought it was enough.

 “Spread your legs, sweetheart,” it took only one command and you were back on your back on the mattress. Your bare back scrubbed along the mold. Even covered in the dark shade of the mask, you could see the glistening of his eyes, pupils wide. You hesitatingly spread your legs for him.

He crawled over you, cock still in his hand, and pressed your legs apart to fit himself in between. His right hand was on your thigh, palm pressed against your soft skin. His left hand guided his cock to your quivering cunt until you felt the head kiss your labia. A wet feeling against your pussy lips and you realized he was smearing his pre-cum at your entrance, deliberately rubbing the head of his cock up and down your entrance while some of the pre-cum came seeping out.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders and your lips parted in a gasp. “Please,” you begged, knowing it to be futile. Then he dipped in, just the head. Careful fingers pressed the tip in. Not enough to hurt yet, just enough to tease.

He paused in his actions just to bend down, his hair brushed against your cheek as he whispered near your face. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he thrust forth without mercy.

You were speared upon his cock that night, in the basement that was your prison. He left you sore and tired as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling body beneath him.

He’d been right. You closed your eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber afterward, relieved when he finally rose from the bed and left you alone. You were too tired to notice when the Grabber returned for you in the midst of the night to get some more relief. Until you faintly awoke to wet sounds and the odd feeling of something thrusting deep inside you.

“Hush, pretty girl,” the low voice whispered in your ear, hips moving relentlessly while he kept pushing himself inside. One hand was on your breast, squeezing it tightly while he toyed with you. His other arm was around your waist, his knee between your legs as he held you from behind, your cunt squeezing down on his cock which was covered in your mixed juices.

“I’ll make you go to sleep soon, little one. Don’t you worry. I’ll make you sleep real deep.”  

[reiderwriter]

hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3

Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕

Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:

It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to. 

“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.” 

“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger. 

“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in. 

“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.” 

“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day. 

You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself. 

“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation. 

It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope. 

But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong. 

“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger. 

The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol. 

Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions. 

Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there. 

“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.

“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.” 

“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him. 

“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted. 

His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in. 

He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away. 

He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care, 

He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky. 

“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow. 

“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion. 

Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever. 

He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core. 

Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality. 

Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper. 

He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit. 

He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower. 

It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes. 

You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that. 

Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you. 

You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one. 

“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth. 

When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid. 

You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you. 

“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right. 

And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god. 

[yanderes-galore]

Idea by @shinjisdone. Thank you once again for fueling my obsession. Lots of love <3 You were originally going to be a non-sorcerer, but I swapped it to you were and just don't like his values. I haven't read/seen Volume 0 yet so things may be wrong/speculated. Man I wish I knew how to pace stories better instead of just letting my brain run with it.

Could've Been Different

Yandere! Curse User! Suguru Geto Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Implied kidnapping, Murder, Violence, Blood, Genocidal views (Geto...), Possessive behavior, "Protective behavior", Mind break, Mature themes, Dark/Yandere themes, Consensual turned forced relationship.

You cherished times before the Riko incident. Times where you were companions of both Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto. You missed it when you were a trio... when things were simple during Jujutsu Sorcerer training.

Back then you truly did love Geto. When he had gone on a date with you due to Gojo's pestering, you two hit it off. You two had been sweethearts ever since.

Then everything changed, you don't even recall how long it's been since then. Eight... nine years since you were all students? You had even participated in the Star Plasma Vessel mission....

You don't think Geto ever recovered from that.

No, the Geto you fell in love with was long gone now. Ever since the massacre by his hands he was never himself. No, now he had changed... becoming a charismatic cult leader to feed off of curses and developing a genocidal view towards non-sorcerers.

You don't agree with his views...

Yet you can't leave him either.

Geto wasn't the man he once was, yet you still felt you could fix him... at the start, anyways. He has lost his way, instead choosing to eradicate the weak rather than protect them. You had originally followed him to try and help him.

It never worked.

No you've been stuck here for years, missing older times and the friend you both shared. The person you were stuck with now wasn't nice, calm, or collected anymore. Instead he turned possessive with you. He plays with your head and does anything to keep your attention on him.

You've seen him kill people throughout the years... just for getting too close.

The members of his cult were merely pawns. They were just meant to feed him curses and use to his advantage. You and his daughters are the only thing he's cherished for years since he snapped.

You know that as anyone else has their blood spilled onto the floorboards.

"They're filthy monkeys... merely meant to bow and do tricks until their usefulness is up." Geto always tells you, wiping the blood from his most recent victim off himself with a grimace. Later, those same hands seem to caress you with so much love as he kisses you.

You wanted to believe your boyfriend was still in there. Unfortunately, you began to learn better before you could leave. Now... Geto wasn't planning on letting you leave.

Here, under his watch and protection he felt you were pure. That's why it angered him when he saw his pet monkeys touch you. They don't deserve you, they deserve to grovel at your feel while Geto holds you.

You are his equal. A skilled sorcerer he could never get out of his head or heart. Although... while he once had your heart and body as his, he no longer seemed to have your heart fully.

Geto is not oblivious to your different views. He found it amusing yet thoughtful that you tried to "change" him. You stuck by him, unaware that the longer you stayed... the more you were stuck to him like a fly in a glue trap.

Geto would be a fool to let you leave now. You're chained to him emotionally, perhaps even physically if you push him. Geto knows you can't leave him.

Unfortunately... so do you.

Even after everything he's done, you can't leave. You hate what he's doing, yet you love him deep down. Geto keeps managing to drag you in with every touch and kiss, having you on a metaphorical leash.

Your beliefs will never change, his won't either. Despite this... you aren't sure what you'd do without him. Even if Geto let you go willingly...

Would you really leave?

That question echoes in your head as you lean against Geto. Do you love him... do you hate him... does it matter if you can't leave anyways? You know everything is wrong, that none of this is okay, but-

"I love you..." Geto keeps murmuring against your skin, having himself locked around you in a tight vice. He has always loved you. Since you were both young, he considered you his.

Eventually you'll understand he's doing this for your protection, right?

"Are you aware of how easy it is to lose you?" Geto whispers between kisses. You know he's saying that due to what happened with Riko. You're sitting in his lap, feeling his touch wrapped around your waist. He treats you like you're porcelain... while culling the weak like they're cattle.

You hate it, so much.

You hate that you can't do anything about it.

"See... you belong right here." Geto nips, eyes glancing at your distant ones. "Right here in my grasp... safe behind these walls... where no curse or wretched monkey can touch you."

You say nothing to his words, just focusing on potential solutions to your problem. The sad thing was you couldn't find any. Your mind and heart are torn. Your love torments you...you miss Gojo.

But you can no longer go back there.

"I can tell you're overthinking, love..." Geto murmurs, pulling his head up to look you in the eyes properly. "Are you still thinking of the past...?"

Even if you didn't say anything, Geto can tell by the look on your face that you're thinking about the past. He frowns, you could sense a sadness within him but it's quickly replaced by irritation. He cups your cheek, his gaze soft yet... stern.

"It doesn't matter now." His voice rings out in a stern tone. "Forget about those weaklings. Forget about Gojo...

Geto then leans closer, lips ghosting your own.

"Just focus on me..." Geto whispers, kissing your lips as though the taste was euphoric. "Only me."

Regardless of how you felt, you comply. You've missed moments like this, so much to the point you're willing to delude yourself into ignoring what he's done. When he kisses you like this... it's like he's the Geto you once knew.

But as his touch and kiss get rougher, it becomes harder to ignore....

You wish things could've been different, that you could've done something... but in the end you're trapped in a prison of your own design.

[storywriter007]

Thank you for answering my other two requests, I loved them!! I have two more if you are interested!

1) Can you do a Percy Jackson x reader (I'm imagining this occurring on the Argo II) that's basically an enemies to friends to lovers? Where maybe they both just don't really like each other based on the encounters they've had, but then end up going on a small quest off the ship just the two of them and some sort of trauma happens that makes them friends, and then you can decide how they get to lovers from there! Basically just want some angst!

2) This one has a little bit of a trigger warning with suicidal thoughts, so I understand if you don't want to write this one. Percy Jackson x reader (this one I'm also envisioning on the Argo II, but this one could also be just at camp when Percy is like 17) where they are good friends and the reader is struggling mentally but tries to smile for everyone else, but she is sitting alone in the woods at some point holding her knife to her wrist just kind of thinking about it but not sure about it, but then Percy appears to check on her and scares her so the accidentally slips and cuts herself there, and from there basically Percy comfort. Idk if that made sense but basically Percy angst and comfort.

You're amazing!!! 🩷

Friends? - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: this is request one. thank you for your request :) i kind of had to cut it short bc this was getting too long.

warnings: cursing, mentions of suicide, betrayal, mentions of death, battle scenes, kissing

genre: angst ending in fluff

word count: 1.8k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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y/n took her seat at the table alongside seven other demi-gods. she noticed percy scowl at her and she rolled her eyes back at him. they'd never gotten along. and chances were, they never would.

her intense hate for the son of the sea god had begun a few summers back during capture the flag. they were on the blue team, and she was assigned to offense with annabeth and percy. suddenly, four members from the red charged at the trio, swords in hand. y/n and percy swung and slashed at two of them until they fled. one of them yanked off annabeth's invisibility cap and decided she was their next victim. the other one came for y/n, hitting her ankle hard. percy was quick to defend annabeth and run away with her.

but he left her. y/n was left to fight two members of the opposing team, who were merciless. they were violent, they were twice her size, and to y/n's dismay, her ankle didn't provide her any support to run away. it was a terrible and cruel beating. the two kept going even when they didn't need to. she could barely see by the end of it. y/n remembered that capture the flag game as "don't trust your teammates."

ever since then, y/n had made her distaste for percy clear. everyone admired his loyalty, until they were on the receiving end of his betrayal.

"we need to find a map." annabeth started.

"it's our key to finding out which way is the safest to go." jason explained. "it's somewhere in the woods, according to what hecate told hazel."

"we're going to have to split up." annabeth continued. "it's a huge forest, and we need to cover ground efficiently."

"i've split you guys up. i don't want to hear any whining." jason said, looking at the group, but his gaze lingered longer on percy and y/n. "annabeth, piper, and i are going eastwards towards the mountains. frank, leo, and hazel are going south to the rest of the woods. percy and y/n will head north, towards the shore."

"why is it 3-3-2?" hazel asked curiously.

"because we need a power balance." annabeth said politely. "it's matched with each person's strengths."

"strengths?" percy chuckled. "i'm the strength. she's going to slow me down."

douchebag, y/n thought.

"i don't want to go with you either, but i'm not bitching about it, am i?" she snapped back.

"you don't have to bitch because going with me does you a favor."

"i'd rather drown."

"lucky you, i can make that happen."

they stared at one-another in an intense fury.

"we'll meet here again in four hours." jason instructed. "and when we do, all eight of us better be here." he said, eyeing percy and y/n.

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it was already eight. and they had to search the stupid northside until midnight. she couldn't even run away if she wanted to.

they continued walking. the sun slowly set as the night sky arose. the woods looked scary at night. tall, thick trees hovered over the two demi-gods as strange creatures and noises came by. after what felt like a long time walking, y/n could hear the sea.

"do you hear it?" she asked him.

"i can feel it." he said, walking quickly.

she trailed behind him as they reached sandy terrain. the sea was dark and terrifying. y/n and percy searched the shore for what felt like another eternity.

suddenly, it got colder and y/n heard a voice. it was a sweet, soft voice.

look at me it whispered.

"do you hear that?" she asked percy.

"yeah." he said, shakily.

look at what you've done it demanded.

suddenly, y/n was watching something in front of her. it was a battle. she looked at the gory scene in front of her. it took her a minute to realize it was the battle of manhattan. she felt a lump in her throat as images of dead campers raced through her mind. silena, charlie, ethan, and luke.

this is your fault the voice said, but it wasn't sweet anymore. it was hoarse, raspy, and cruel.

look at what you've killed. look at what you've brought it continued.

the images flashed terrible battle scenes. it replayed deaths of each and every camper.

you did this the voice yelled.

"n-no, i didn't." y/n whispered, shaken by the images.

look at what you've done

"i didn't do it!" she pleaded.

you did! you did it all!

"i had no choice." she said, tears spilling from her eyes.

terrible, tortuous images kept playing. the deaths of the campers she'd grown up with, the reactions of their mothers and fathers, and the destruction that had been caused.

you deserve to die.

"i know." she whispered. "don't you think i know?"

do it the voice encouraged. do what you should've done years ago.

y/n tried to think through it. this voice, this voice wasn't human.

do it.

it was a siren. it was trying to get her to sacrifice her life.

"no." she said, standing her ground. "i did what i had to. i can't be blamed for it."

then who can you blame?

"kronos." she said, gripping her sword.

the siren showed it's demented face and y/n quickly slashed it. she snapped out of her trance, and the images faded and so did the voices. she turned to see percy holding his sword to his neck. she saw the twisted siren circling around him. she swiftly ran up to him and took his sword from his hand, before slashing the siren. percy too snapped out of his daze, and stumbled a little. y/n caught him, and looked up to meet his sea green eyes. they were teary, and he looked so disheartened.

"you saw it too." she confirmed.

he nodded.

"thank you." he said, his voice low and sincere. "i would've done-well you know what, if you hadn't saved me."

she nodded.

"we should probably get back to the ship." he said quietly.

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when percy and y/n got back, it was half-past midnight, and everyone was already there.

"we ran into sirens." y/n briefly explained.

they all nodded as the ship entered the air, sailing to its next location.

"we found the map." hazel informed. "goodnight guys."

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y/n tossed and turned in her bed. she couldn't get those images out. those dam sirens. she needed to talk to someone. someone who would understand. she sat up and opened her door. she trailed the hallway until the came across the door that read percy jackson. she lightly knocked before pushing the door open.

"couldn't sleep either?" he asked, laying down and staring at the ceiling.

"yeah." she said. "i can't get what the sirens showed me out of my head."

"c'mere." he said, patting the area next to him.

y/n laid down next to him.

"i know it's not our fault." he said quietly. "but it feels like it is."

"i know." she said softly. "it's like i should've done something. but there was nothing to be done."

"exactly." he said. "on one hand, i know i couldn't have saved them no matter what i did. but on the other, i feel like i should've figured it out."

"mhm." she agreed. "they were good people. that's what makes it hurt more."

"they didn't deserve death. and i don't deserve the hero title." he chuckled. "i let them die."

"you had no choice." she reminded.

"did i?" he questioned.

"percy, i saw and heard the same things you did. it just wanted to get in our heads." she explained. "and they did it through guilt. guilt that isn't ours to carry. it's kronos'."

"you're right." he agreed.

y/n had spent years hating him. but maybe, just maybe, he was alright. they had both seen the same things growing up. the same wars, deaths, and betrayals. in an odd way, she felt almost identical to him.

a few moments of silence passed by before y/n realized percy had fallen asleep. and after a few more minutes, she felt herself drift off as well.

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the next morning when y/n awoke, percy was already awake.

"morning." he smiled.

"oh dear god." she said, sitting up. "what time is it?"

"it's five-thirty. and i'm sorry." he said, sitting up as well.

"for what?"

"for how i treated you all these years." he exhaled, as if this was something he'd been meaning to get off his chest. "i'm sorry for leaving you in capture the flag."

"so you did know what you were doing, huh?" she retorted.

sure, the cuts and scars from that beating had been healed a long time ago. but, the betrayal never did.

"i didn't know you." he explained. "i didn't care about you. i just wanted to get annabeth to safety. that was wrong of me. you were on my team, i should've helped."

"'sorry' and 'i should've' doesn't fix anything. we're not best friends because we got along for a day." she said bitterly. "i know for a fact you would've left me in the woods the way you did all those years ago."

"that's not fair y/n." he frowned. "i would never do that to you."

"and you get to decide what's fair now?" she chuckled. "are you forgetting you continued tormenting me instead of swallowing your pride and apologizing?"

"i-"

"that's the thing about your loyalty, jackson. everyone admires it until they're on the receiving end of your betrayal." she said coldly, getting up.

"y/n, you might not trust me today, hell, you might not trust me for the rest of our short lives. but believe me when i say, from the bottom of my heart, i'm sorry."

"how do i know you're never going to do the same thing again?" she asked.

get got up and moved closer to her. he was practically towering over her. she felt her back hit the wall.

"you have my word." he promised, looking at her eyes.

she nodded in agreement, feeling herself breathe heavily being this close to him. she could feel him leaning in, and she did too. their lips pressed against one-anothers in a passionate kiss. his hands were placed on her waist, and her arms snaked around his neck. he tasted like salt and blue frosting. she felt herself get pushed backwards towards the wall as he continued to kiss her. it grew more passionate and ferocious until they both pulled away. she rested her head underneath his.

"friends?" he asked.

"we just made out. we are not friends." she laughed.

"i thought it was too bold to say lovers."

"lovers." she agreed.

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hope you liked it :) sorry for the wait!

[ghostboneswrites2]

You Ran

Summary: Your boyfriend is a known abuser but nobody does anything to stop it. (Similar to the Jess situation.) When Daryl goes out of his way to help, you lash out, realizing that he might have helped you for the night, but it would surely only get worse from there. When Deanna makes it clear she has little to no intentions of addressing the issue, you take matters into your own hands.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: Profanity, non-graphic references to abuse, one instance of descriptive abuse (slapping & pushing), description of bruising, TWD typical violence

Part 2: You Were Found

Note: This story may not be suitable for all audiences. It's not intentionally triggering but as a former victim of abuse / witness to the abuse of a parent I did channel a bit of my own trauma into this.

        You anxiously tugged at your sleeves, ensuring the bruising around your wrist would be hidden as you worked your shift at the armory. Usually Olivia would handle the pantry and armory combined, but with rations getting low and runs becoming a more frequent necessity, you offered to help her with one or the other. The Alexandrians were getting antsy, crowding the pantry all hours of the day to try and intimidate Olivia out of extra rations, selfishly complaining that they needed more, regardless of who had to go hungry for their bellies to be filled.

        You had only been at Alexandria for a year, maybe. You and your boyfriend bumped into Aaron and Eric on the road, and he graciously invited you to his home. You often found yourself missing what you had with him on the road. He never hit you or raised his voice. He was always tender and protective. The only goal either of you had was to see another day together. Somehow, though, when you arrived here, everything changed. It was like the safety of the walls left him too much time to recall the horrors of the time you spent out in the open. PTSD ravaged him, and he became a mere shell of his former self. 

        He'd become overwhelmed with rage. He'd shout, break things, attack you.. Truth be told, you changed too. Once the violence began, you became reclusive and shy. You thought if you looked anyone in the eye for too long they'd be able to see your problems at home written all over your face. It wasn't a risk worth taking. 

        The people noticed, too. When you first arrived, you were goofy and talkative, excited for any human contact. You never stayed inside too long. You always offered to help anyone you saw with yard work, hauling, preparing. You'd see the kids playing or hanging out and offer them a drink or ask to join their game of hide and seek. Slowly, though, that changed, beginning right around the time your boyfriend changed.

        See, Ty was the kind of guy to smile at his neighbor and offer a hand in lifting that heavy couch, or ask a fellow passerby how their day was going. He was eager to be given a job, to contribute. It was mere weeks before the depression krept in and stole everything lively about him away, leaving room for the more sinister post-trauma to settle in in the wake of his joy. You tried to pull him out of it. You stayed by his side every step of the way, and at first he was grateful, but somehow he grew to resent you. He felt sick to his stomach at your sweet nature, at how effortlessly you acclimated to any semblance of normalcy. He felt left behind, like you were going to bloom and expose all your petals while he remained shriveled underneath the surface.

        That was when his outbursts began. The damage to your surroundings followed soon after, and that only escalated to violence. It wasn't every day, but it was often. Most people avoided him, and even you, but a select few kept in touch. Mostly Olivia and Denise.

        "It's hot today, love. Don't you wanna take that sweater off?" Olivia asked innocently as he brought in your clipboard. "I did a quick inventory last night, go ahead and check it out again. They should be by soon to check out for their run."

        "Okay." You smiled and nodded, checking off every gun, scope, and round of ammunition. You were quickly bored so you started arranging everything neatly, setting the larger rifles and shotguns on the pegs of the utility wall, carefully laying out each pistol, lining up the mags and ammunition, organizing the sights by magnification.

        "Need a few things." A husky voice startled you. You spun to face him fast, relaxing a bit at the familiar face. It was just Daryl. A lot of people found him intimidating or mean, but you figured he was just quiet. Most people in Alexandria were blissfully unaware of the world beyond the walls and what it could do to a person.

        "Oh, go ahead." You pressed your lips into a thin smile. "Just let me know what you take so I can.." You held up the clipboard. He nodded and wandered around the room, picking up a few pistols and sliding the mags inside, which you had graciously preloaded for them already.

        "Can ya toss me that AR?" He asked. You reached up and lifted it off the prongs, walking it over to him. "Is it loaded?" He wondered as he reached to grab it. His eyes stuck to your wrists, which had been exposed as your sleeves rode up your arm through the mundane tasks you had been performing. You didn't really notice his gaze. 

        "Yeah, I--" You paused as his hand grabbed yours and turned it over, looking at the purple and blue marks littering your skin. They were clearly left from another hand.

        You yanked your hand back and adjusted your sleeves shamefully. Embarrassment encased you. It wasn't that you worried about intervention, perse. The entire community knew what was happening behind closed doors and they all swept it under the rug, not willing to intervene and disturb the peace in their blissfully ignorant suburb.

        "Sorry, it's nothing." You mumbled, brushing your dull hair behind your ear. Funny enough, you were a social worker before shit hit the fan. You were well trained in signs of abuse and malnourishment, in both women and children. Thin, dull hair was often a sign of abuse in the sense that one's body can be in a constant state of fight-or-flight and the adrenaline could take a real toll on someone's health. Usually accompanied by less than healthy BMI, timidness, always looking at the ground when they walk, avoiding eye contact, only speaking when spoken to, the list went on. It was like a sick joke, being a poster child for the textbook signs of abuse, the very thing you were trained to protect and remove the vulnerable from.

        "It ain't." He said quietly.

        "No, really. It's fine." You forced a smile. "Was that all you needed, or..?"

        He studied you for a moment, deciding it wasn't the right time to address it. 

        "Need a scope." He relented.

        "Oh, they're right there." You pointed to the shelf. He nodded and picked one.

        "Just these." He said, displaying his haul. You recorded each item and nodded.

        "Okay. Be safe out there." You smiled. He grunted and walked out. You let out a breath, praying that slip up wouldn't have consequences.

----

        You slowly entered the bedroom where Ty would be enjoying his typical glass of whatever booze he could get his hands on. Recently he even resorted to fermenting fruit for his own mead. 

        "Dinner." You said shyly, setting it on the end table beside the bed, knowing better than to interrupt him too much. 

        "It's about time." He slurred. "I'm starving."

        You hung your head low as you scurried out of the room, gently pulling the door shut behind him. If you closed it too loud, he'd think you slammed it, and that was sure to trigger a response.

        You sat down on the couch downstairs, picking at your food in an attempt to grow and appetite. You had a knot in your gut all day after the encounter with Daryl. You had this nagging feeling that it was sure to turn into more than an awkward interaction.

        And you were right.

        Knock knock.

        A casual double knock wasn't typical around there. Most people, if they dared to stop by, tapped lightly and persistently. You set the food on the coffee table and pulled the door open.

        "Oh." You blinked at the quiet huntsman. "Don't do this." You pleaded, just above a whisper.

        "Do what?" He shrugged. "Just came to drop this off." 

        He was nonchalant, but you both knew what he was doing. He held out a bag with some rations.

        "We usually get rations at the pantry." You said apprehensively.

        "Mm. Decided to drop by after we unloaded." He explained absently, more focused on the house behind you as he searched from the doorway.

        "Well, thanks." You reached for the bag but he seized the opportunity to grab you hand again and pull your sleeve up.

        Carol stepped into view from beside him. She was hidden from your sights before that, right beside the front door. She looked down at your wrist then back up at you.

        "Enjoy the rations." Was all she said as she walked away. Daryl brought her along to judge the situation. Given both of their pasts, he thought there'd be no better duo to help.

        You snatched the bag back and eyed Daryl. 

        "What's this?" Ty asked from behind you, empty plate in hand. His eyes lingered on Daryl and flashed with jealousy.

        "This is Daryl." You stepped to the side.

        "I know his name, damn it. What's he doing here?"

        "Just dropping by with some food." You explained hurriedly attempting to avoid any kind of confrontation.

        "The pantry out of commission or something?" Ty asked suspiciously, stepping toward you.

        "No, they just--"

        "Just stocked it up. Olivia asked me to drop some things off for (Y/N)." Daryl spoke up.

        "Huh." Ty hummed, looking Daryl up and down and decided it wouldn't be a fair fight. "Thanks." Was all he said before he shut the door in Daryl's face. He watched the door as he listened to Daryl walk down the steps before his eyes found you. You gulped.

        "Just some food." You mumbled, extending your arm to show him the bag. He snatched it and you jumped. He looked over the contents inside. Typical things like canned goods and bread. "I needed some--" 

        You began to formulate an excuse to keep his rage at bay, but he cut you short with an open handed slap across the cheek. 

        "I told you no guests." He seethed.

        "I didn't know they were coming." You whimpered, hand holding your throbbing skin as your hair slipped over your face.

        He shoved you into the wall and the impact knocked a picture frame down, shattering all over the tile.

        The door swung open just then and Daryl's stocky figure hurdled at Ty, taking him to the ground. 

        "Ya like beatin' up on little girls?" Daryl seethed, straddling Ty and landing two punches across his face. "Huh? Why don't ya pick on somebody your own size, ya prick?!"

        Daryl had walked down the steps loudly to trick Ty, then he waited for any sign he needed to intervene. Carol went to get Rick. It was all planned.

        You scrambled away from the scene, stunned. You couldn't watch for very long before you felt compelled to intervene.

        "Daryl.." You pleaded, trying and failing to pull him back. Daryl punched Ty over and over.

        "Answer me, ya sick fuck! You like beatin' up on your girl? It make ya feel big and bad? Huh?!" 

        "Daryl!" You pleaded.

        That was when Rick rushed over with Michonne and Carol in tow.

        "Daryl, stop!" Rick ordered. Hesitantly, Daryl stood up to his feet and Rick stepped in front of him. Rick took in the scene of your bloodied boyfriend writhing on the ground, you cowering away. "What happened?" He asked you. You couldn't speak.

        "Bastard's been hittin' her!" Daryl spoke up for you, still pacing and circling like a  hungry predator.

        "That true?" Rick asked you. He noticed your red cheek and your generally timid nature. You didn't answer, but you didn't need to. Rick nodded and looked back down to Ty. "Alright. Michonne, help me get him to the cell. We can try to explain this to Deanna tomorrow."

        Rick and Michonne dragged Ty away as you stared at Daryl bewildered. Suddenly, a flash of rage washed over you.

        "Do you know what you've done?!" You shouted through tears. "It's only gonna get so much worse now!"

        Daryl was stunned. He took offense to the fact that he went out of his way to defend a stranger only for them to turn around and lash out at him, as if he had wronged her.

        "It was only gonna get worse if I didn't do nothin'!" He defended.

        "You don't get it! He'll be home tomorrow and it'll start all over again, only worse this time!" You sobbed. "You should have just left it alone."

        "He ain't comin' back here."

        "Yes he is! Have you ever seen anyone be punished here? Do you see any laws posted? Did you get a handbook when you arrived?" You tried to explain. "Deanna will let him out tomorrow and everyone's just going to pretend like it never happened; like nothing is wrong. That's how things work here."

        "Well then pack up and go. Get outta here 'fore he comes back." Daryl shrugged. You scoffed. 

        "And go where? I barely know these people. You think Deanna's just gonna give me a whole house to myself? Even if she did, how long do you think it'll be before he shows up at my door? Are you gonna be there to save me then too?"

        Tears were still streaming freely down your cheeks. Your voice cracked and trembled with fear and rage.Daryl was speechless. He didn't know what to do to help you. He wondered if you were right, if he should've just left things how they were and minded his own business. Maybe he was fool to think he had any right meddling in your life just because he had been through similar things.

        "Can't just let ya sit here and get beat." He finally spoke. You scoffed and shook your head, running a hand over your flustered face.

        "Well you don't really have a choice. I have nowhere to go." You said, holding your arms out and gesturing around you. "This is where I live, this is where he lives, and this is my life now."

        "Nah. Rick's gon' talk to Deanna. He's gon' fix this."

----

        The next morning, Rick and Daryl showed up at Deanna's bright and early, with Michonne and Carol in tow. 

        "So you attacked him?" Deanna asked, eying Daryl. He scoffed.

        "After he beat up his girl, again. And from the sounds of it you all know exactly what goes on over there and don't do a damn thing to fix it!" Daryl spat. He was frustrated with the entire situation, but more so with the lack of action from the community or its leader to protect all of its citizens. Rick held his hand out to Daryl and gave him a look, silently asking him to calm down. Daryl began pacing.

        "We don't know for sure that anything like that was happening. We can't act on suspicion alone--"

        "We saw the bruises." Carol cut Deanna off. "All around her wrists, where someone grabbed her."

        "And I heard him throw her into the wall." Daryl added, straining to keep his voice down. "Waited on the porch 'til he thought I was gone and heard it all."

        "Her face was red too." Michonne spoke up. "When we got there. The whole left side was lit up."

        Deanna looked to Rick, who nodded in confirmation. Deanna pondered for a moment.

        "So then what do you suggest I do? Leave him locked up in a cell underneath my house?" She asked rhetorically. It was clear she had no intentions of facing the issue. 

        "What ya do is tell him to get lost." Daryl said as if it was obvious. To him, it was. No room for abusers in a functional society.

        "What Daryl means to say is maybe you van give him an ultimatum. If he can't keep his hands off people, then he has no place here." Rick tried to smooth out the situation. Deanna was already more focused on Daryl attacking Ty than he was on the year-long assault Ty waged against your body.

        "I can't just start throwing threats around and --"

        "You need to protect your people." Michonne spoke slowly. "That means not leaving one to suffer just to keep everyone else comfortable."

        "This isn't a comfortable world." Carol added meekly, maintaining that denmother persona she played so well.Deanna sighed.

        "Suppose I give him this.. ultimatum.. Then what? What happens when he hits her again?" Deanna asked. Daryl stopped pacing and stared at her, arms hanging down at his sides. He was baffled.

        "Then ya stand on what ya said and throw him out." He deadpanned. 

        "And what do I tell my people?"

        "The truth!" Daryl threw his hands up in frustration.

        "Okay, Daryl, maybe you should take a minute to cool off." Rick sighed.         

        "No need." Deanna held her hand up. "I've heard enough. I have a lot to think about."

----

        You had cleaned up the house the best you could and worked hard to make sure food was ready on the kitchen island for when Ty came home. You were sure nothing would contain the rage he'd feel, but you hoped you could butter him up enough to avoid his fist.

        Someone knocked just as you were setting the tray of lasagna on the counter. You rushed over to answer, surprised to see Deanna.

        "(Y/N). Have time to chat?" She smiled. You stepped aside and let her in, crossing your arms over your chest as she strolled past you and stood facing you. "I've been thinking a lot about your situation."

        "Oh...?" You raised your eyebrows.

        "I don't believe it's in the best interest of the community to blow this out of proportion." She began. You rolled your eyes and focused on a random tile on the floor. You already knew where she was taking it. "I've heard the testimonies from Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Carol. They can all confirm that maybe things aren't the most peaceful for you here."

        "Huh." You hummed.

        "The thing is, I can't just leave Tyler in a cell, or kick him out of Alexandria. That would cause fear. People would be wondering who's next, or what simple mistakes could end up getting them banished." She went on. "I have a duty to my people."

        "Am I your people?" You asked suddenly. You didn't mean to say it, but you did mean it.

        "Well -- Yes." She stuttered, caught off guard.

        "So then what does that mean for me? The need to keep everyone comfortable trumps the need to keep one person safe from another?"

        You didn't want Ty to be banished or to be imprisoned. You just wanted a safe way out. You loved him, of course you did. He was good once, but that part of him was gone.

        "That's not what I'm saying." She insisted.

        "Then what are you saying?"

        "I'm saying that I'm not sure what to do to keep you safe." She admitted. "At least not without--"

        "Without making the others feel uncomfortable. I get it." You summarized.

        "Right, well... I just need more time to think it over, to speak with people I trust to make the right judgement here. I will figure this out for you, (Y/N)."

        You didn't believe her.

        "When are you letting him out?" You asked. She didn't seem to understand. "Of the cell, I mean. When are you sending him back here?"

        "I'm not sure." She said quietly. 

        "Right. Well I have a lot to do before he gets here, so if you don't mind..." You nodded over to the door. She gave a quick goodbye before she left, and you took some time to think. Maybe nobody else could help you. Maybe you just had to take matters into your own hands.

----

        The wall was menacingly tall. You stared up the height of it, gulping, adjusting the straps of your backpack as you did. You had seen Enid climb it before, so you were sure you could do the same. With a deep breath, you hoisted yourself up the steel beam and climbed with all your strength, dropping down on the other side once you had reached the top. You quickly grabbed the biggest kitchen knife you could find from your bag and tucked it into your belt, before digging for the loaded pistol you stole from the armory and sliding it into the back of your waistband.

        You double checked that you had food, water, and a change of clothes in the large part of the bag. You checked the front pocket for all the first aid you could fit. When you were satisfied, you tossed one last glance at the walls of Alexandria, and you ran.

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[citruslullabies]

It took me a whole hour to get the confidence to request this but.

I picture catnap with a hamster reader. The reader would be scared and timid around catnap BC he's a cat and she's basically a hamster. It took her a while to get used to catnap but they became besties to each other. Catnap loves the hamster reader bc of the soft fur and soft chubby cheeks. And every time the hamster reader is taking a nap he would cuddle with him. Yeh.. that's it. Sorry if it's long:<

Don't feel scared to send in requests hon!!

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic: unspecified

Requested by: legostars

Category: fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): catnap x hamster smiling critter!reader

Word count: 411

Cat and Mouse

When you were created, you were intended to basically be the Jerry to Catnap's Tom on screen. Silly, right? Well that fear that Jerry must've felt followed you off screen too.

You constantly avoided Catnap, getting scared when he approached and squeaked before running. You may have not been a mouse but you were a hamster, and cats were notorious for killing hamsters. You were skittering away on your little paws after the feline had approached you again, not daring to look back despite the purple cat actually seeming really confused and holding the charm that was supposed to be around your neck. It had fallen off on scene, so he wanted to give it back.

He had Dogday give it back, unhappy by how much calmer you were around him. Dogs were no better after all. It was like this for MONTHS.

Well at least until you finally gave him a chance, due to pressure from the hyper canine. And you two… actually hit it off really well, you had similar interests and just enjoyed each other's company. But you quickly realized that catnap seemed to have a fascination with how soft you were, constantly nuzzling against your face and kneading your fur. You were victim to his paws again as he laid beside you, kneading your fuzzy stomach and nuzzling his fat head against your chubby cheeks.

You giggled and tried to use your tinier paws to swat him away, letting out little squeaks and chirp-like noises. You eventually gave in and gently stroked the cat's fur, humming. “You're making me tired…” You whined, causing the feline pressed against you to purr louder. He never had to use red smoke on you.

Catnap was always quiet, more than most other critters. But he communicated to you with affection and sounds rather than words a lot, so when you fell asleep he crawled up on top of you and curled up. Enjoying the sound of your heartbeat and the pulsing of your chest reminding him that you were still alive, his left ear twitched as he got cozy and popped one eye open to glance at you. Purring as he spoke, knowing you were asleep and could not hear him as he did. “Sleep well, Hammy…” He always called you Hammy, short for Hamster. It was his personal name for you.

You were the only critter he truly felt any regret and pity for when the hour of joy came.

Thanks for requesting!

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the amazing fics I read this month:

Have Love, Will Travel | kingsofeverything | [97k] Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series. It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

everything of mine is yours | blueskiesrry | [33k] "Did you two have a good time?” Harry in his bathroom, brushing his teeth with frizzy hair and tired eyes. Harry on the couch cuddled up with Posy, cradling her in the crook of his elbow, humming a soft song. Harry laughing with his friends in a pub on a Friday night, a flower field in his eyes. Harry in his bed tucked under the covers, naked against fresh sheets like a shock of moonlight cutting through a storm. “Yeah,” he says. “We did.” or: With Harry in New York finishing up his PhD and Louis in London working as a solicitor, they try to navigate their eight year situationship including almost-daily phone calls, the occasional indulgence of casual phone sex, and endless gossip sessions as the feelings they have for each other get harder to ignore.

Sweeter Than I Ever Knew | mandylynn4 | [32k] Harry has spent his heats alone since he's presented, but his roommate, Niall, is convinced that he needs to try out The Agency - an app that lets alphas and omegas partner for heats. Unsure, he signs up and goes through 5 heats with different alphas. Some are good experiences, others are awful. But, in the end, he finds that his heats with the right alpha can be sweeter than he ever knew. TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHAPTER 2 - READ TAGS!!!

Cuddlebug | sun_flowr | [19k] When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.

My Lungs Don't Breathe (don't want any kind of life without you, dear) | red_panda28 | [5.6k] Suddenly a cough bubbled up in his lungs and he froze. Laying in his palm was a single flower petal, pastel pink, and velvet soft. The first thought that struck him was well, guess I am in love with Louis. Then another realisation hit. It also meant that Louis didn’t love him back. OR Harry falls victim to the Hanahaki Disease after meeting Louis, Louis has his own secret, and Zayn is a good friend

Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) | red_panda28 | [3.5k] Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles. Harry Styles, his former bandmate. Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years. Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles. OR Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past

It's written all over your... (or: the Red Carpet fic) | BlueNeptuune | [11k] The star-studded cast of Steal My Girl graced the red carpet on Saturday night ahead of the premiere screening, sparking an internet sensation like no other. The film itself received an average of 4-and-a-half stars from early reviews, launching it into the spotlight as a contender for the up-and-coming awards season, but the real news came from the carpet itself. Oscar-winner Louis Tomlinson (Kill My Mind, Back For You) made his first public appearance following the badly-hidden split from his management in early 2020, and he wasn’t exactly keen to talk about it. It was also the first time since his earliest work (Still The One is featured on our summer-vibes throwback list) that he’s attended the carpet by himself – rumours swirled that he’d split with his long-time girlfriend, but are the two things related? Tomlinson himself wasn’t spilling any tea, but it looks like one journalist in particular might have coaxed a little more out of him than anyone else...

Sweet Mondays | sweetkalachuchi | [3.5k] Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson have ended their marriage; neither of them knew the other would be at the Euros. Niall was there too. And there was only one bed.

Get Him Back | softfonds | [17k] After finding out his husband was unfaithful, Harry does one thing that makes him feel good again. But it's up in the air if that one thing will stay.

Wild at Heart | She_bear | [50k] Louis is a lost soul, sailing around a remote archipelago in the Philippines when he makes a surprising discovery. A castaway fic ___________ "Like the island itself, he was a quite bewildering and ever changing landscape of beauty. Nothing was the same now Louis was here. The placid solitude to which Harry had grown accustomed had been replaced by fun and exquisite physical pleasure. By conversation, affection and connection. And with that all his peace was lost."

Sugar, Sugar | parmahamlarrie | [25k] Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website. Louis isn’t waiting with bated breath for his soulmate either. He has more important things to worry about than love. Mainly, his career as a writer, publishing under a pseudonym. He spends most of the year buried under research and manuscripts, taking as much time as he would like, much to his publishers' chagrin. After receiving many millions after the death of his Aunt Ethel when he was young, he technically never has to work again. As far as soulmates go, he figures if it happens, he will be so old that he’ll be stuck in his ways. Or he’ll have grey eyes forever, he doesn’t fucking care. He can get his needs met through a sugar baby website. Or… The Sugar baby soulmate AU

The Cottage | HoldingOnToChaos | [70k] Louis hates alphas and he has good reason to, but when his beloved omega grandmother dies, and he inherits her cottage, he meets Harry, an alpha hazelnut farmer who sneaks his way into Louis’ life. While Louis struggles with his severe touch deprivation, he forms a friendship with Harry that turns out to be exactly what he needed. -- Or Louis has severe touch deprivation and Harry has a hazelnut farm.

The Capillaries In My Eyes Are Bursting | 5secsoflarry | [14k] Two armoured palace guards stand there, speaking with the old, widowed beta. Harry watches curiously from the space in the back, ducking down a little in an attempt to hide. There have been whispers through the town of omegas being gathered and forced to the castle all week long - something about the King being ill - but Harry had thought they were only rumours….. OR Medieval times where King Louis is in a near death accident and enters a coma. The royal doctor says they have two weeks to find Louis’ true soulmate (omega) or he dies.

[maximumkillshot]

Home

Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming. 

A/N:  Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself. 

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.  

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail. 

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.” 

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often… 

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless… 

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.” 

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster. 

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that. 

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection. 

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.” 

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are. 

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…” 

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do. 

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink. 

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke. 

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide. 

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air… 

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.” 

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

 He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.” 

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again. 

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you. 

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload. 

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear. 

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.” 

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again. 

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends. 

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell. 

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you. 

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

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[getvalentined]

I've never done a full breakdown of everything that happened to my version of Vincent while he was under the knife (although there is a partial breakdown from like 12 years ago on Ask Vincent Valentine), but @spinejackel tagged my recent Vincent doodle gushing about autopsy scar (Vincent Has a Y-Incision headcanon supremacy!) so I figured it was probably a good time. This is also probably the best method, since I can apply the right tags and trigger warnings to hopefully keep it from hitting the people who would be disturbed.

For anyone who doesn't know, figuring out the fucked up physiology of victims of science is like my entire jam. I think this is what happens when you let a chronically ill child watch Akira and the original Bubblegum Crisis OVA and most of the works of Masamune Shirow. All that before FF7 even existed. This means that the explanation under the cut may seem excessive, and this post is very long. I've been building it over over a quarter century, I don't think there's any avoiding it at this point.

Warnings for body horror, nonconsensual body modification, medical horror and torture. Basically, if there's anything you can think of related to becoming a victim of science under the rule of an unethical sci-fantasy oligarchy, it's probably in here to some degree. It's explained plainly and simply, in clinical but not visceral detail.

My headcanons for what Hojo did to Vincent are pretty specific, albeit not precisely comprehensive; 27 years later I still don't really have a particularly solid concept for how he turned Vincent into a shapeshifter, although at least we know it's not something entirely specific to Vincent—Hojo repeated that facet of the experiment in Azul, but not in any other SOLDIER operative even in DeepGround, implying that it's only possible if very specific physiological conditions are met. The minimal concept I do have involves a twisted application of the concept of incarnate summoning as it appears in FFXIII-2, but it's very vague and also not the topic of this post. Maybe later.

Regarding the Y-incision/autopsy scar, my headcanon is that once Hojo tweaked Vincent into being able to regenerate from any injury—an enhancement that is confirmed to be entirely Hojo's work in Dirge—the professor of course felt it necessary to run various tests quantify the usefulness of his handiwork. He did this first by inflicting various surface injuries, then by causing more extreme bodily trauma, which eventually culminated in Hojo removing the majority of Vincent's internal organs in order to measure how long it took them to grow back and, assuming they did grow back, how the new ones compared to Vincent's original parts.

To be able to observe this as closely as possible, Hojo kept Vincent's torso open for the entire process—which he repeated twice more in order to check the weight, size and structure of the newly-grown organs in comparison to the originals. This study proved that most of them did grow back, but the majority of them stopped developing much earlier than was appropriate for Vincent's age and size. The difference was consistent, Hojo just never figured out why most of them grew back smaller and less-developed.

The reason this happened is based the fact that most of the organs in the human trunk are used in digestion and other related processes, and Vincent's regeneration means he doesn't need to eat or drink anymore. His body only expended as much energy as was completely necessary to develop those organs to the point of being functional rather than normal, because they're not really necessary. Vincent is glad he still has them, though, because he does still occasionally eat (usually in social situations) and also he'd be really sad if he couldn't even have coffee.

Vincent's brain activity remained normal during the entire process, although that may have something to do with Hojo driving a bunch of fluid lines into his head and flooding the inside of his skull with mako to keep him awake the whole time even while deprived of oxygen. (Rebirth spoilers, but seeing the bit in the Nibelheim Protorelic questline where Hojo does something super similar to this, after this has been my headcanon for decades, was a trip.)

Two organs didn't grow back at all: Vincent's appendix and one kidney. This was also the result of efficient energy expenditure, as the human appendix isn't necessary for survival, and only one kidney is really required. (Each time Hojo removed the new kidney, the one that grew back would be on the opposite side, which bothered Hojo to no end.)

His lungs grew back a little larger, possibly because his skeletal structure never quite recovered after his first transformation into Galian—his arms and legs are noticeably too long for his body, although not to the point of looking impossible, and likewise his ribcage settled to breadth that would allow for larger lungs. He doesn't really need these anymore either, related to his brain being exposed to so much mako during the process that it can now operate without oxygen if necessary, but switching himself over from aerobic to anaerobic respiration is really unpleasant and Vincent tries to avoid it when he can.

His heart was pretty normal by the time Hojo was done with him, although his heartrate had dropped to like 20bpm even when elevated. Again, if respiration isn't necessary, there's not much reason for the system to be active. (By the time Lucrecia was done this had dropped to around 5bpm on average, although it's completely arrhythmic and jumps all over the place when he's not either particularly active or on the verge of a transformation.)

This was the experiment that left Vincent susceptible to degradation, which Hojo didn't realize until after finally closing him back up. Upon realizing that Vincent's body wasn't responding properly to a different test (a repetition of an earlier experiment related to the regeneration of external tissues and features), Hojo just kinda threw him in a tube to be disposed of at a later date, kinda like that scene in Arrested Development where there's that dead dove in a bag in the fridge. The incision healed at some point during the period that Lucrecia was working on him, but early enough in her work that the tissue couldn't flawlessly regenerate (like it does in the present), leaving him with one more gnarly scar on top of all the rest.

Vincent is self-conscious about all the physiological changes brought on by what was done to him, often to the point of loathing. His left arm is the worst—it rotted off while he was in the throes of degradation and grew back as something that he hesitates to call his arm—but Vincent hates that Y-incision scar almost as much. Some days they tie.

(It has come up in appropriately horrified conversation with Shalua that, considering how his regeneration works, Vincent could probably get rid of all the scars on his chest if he somehow peeled the skin off his torso in a single swath. He will not be doing that. Besides, it might grow back the wrong color/texture/etc, like his left arm. Not worth the risk, much less the suffering.)

Also I gotta finish off this entry with the extremely stupid headcanon reveal that Vincent's (honestly fairly impressive) dick was cut off during the first round of bodily trauma regeneration tests—and Hojo has never felt the sort of rage he experienced upon discovering that it grew back bigger than before. This occurred early enough in the experiments that Vincent was not awake for it, and thus has no idea how the fuck this happened, and does not want to talk about it ever thank you very much. I've never mentioned it in public anywhere because it is extremely stupid, but I hope someone out there finds it as funny a concept as I do.

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Defend My Honor

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Trevor Zegras x Reader

I love Trevor, but I also love watching Sid knock him around like a China doll <3

Requested✨

Word Count: 3.6k

Trigger Warning(s): mild harassment, nothing other than unwanted wrist grabbing and the insinuation of the devil’s tango.

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“…So I said, no you can shut your mouth, asshole.”

Just take a deep breath.

Who raised such a rambunctious ass-hat?

How much longer do I have to hear him run his mouth?

As long as our friends were still out for lunch…

I looked up at my girl-friend, who was taking a hefty bite out of a chicken salad sandwich. She paid no mind to my tension, and truthfully I wouldn’t have asked her to. She knows I don’t like Trevor, but she asked me to accompany him and his friend to lunch, I couldn’t turn her down. She’d been talking to this guy for some time now, and I knew she still felt nervous to be around him alone. He had asked if she planned on bringing me. He said he’d bring Trevor if she brought me. Fuck I hate Trevor.

“Trevor, you’re always getting into some trouble. You need to cool down a little.” My girl-friend chimed in as she peered at him, sitting diagonally across from her. Sitting directly across from me. For someone so loud, he liked to eat at quiet places. I felt bad for those sitting in the Panera Bread around us.

“Kelly, you don’t understand. Guys are always on my back. It’s exhausting.” Trevor was animated in his movements, his elbows falling on the table as his hands reached out like they were holding some invisible vase from the sides. “I can’t stand it. Somebody has to defend my honor.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed out. It was impulsive, I didn’t mean it to fall as easily as it did. Trevor’s gaze quickly flickered to mine. Our friends tensed as quick as a gunshot. They’d both been around when Trevor and I had our monthly explosive fights. They were usually the ones to pull us apart and cool us down.

We were never quite aware of how exhausting our behavior had been for them. We were both at faults we chose to turn blind eyes to.

“What?“ Trevor challenged me to go on, instigating. But I did it too from time to time.

“You can’t have any honor in the first place if you’re always sticking your nose up at others.” I spoke ‘matter of factly,’ folding my arms across my chest and crossing one leg over the other, accidentally kicking Trevor’s foot under the table in the process. He didn’t dare return the gesture though. Maybe he had a small sliver of honor. Not hitting women was the bare minimum in my book though.

“I do not! You’re the one always judging everybody!” Trevor whispered a shout, leaning forward as his hands fell to grip the edge of the table.

“Guys..”

“Maybe we should-“

“That’s not even true! I judge you ‘cause you have your head up your ass all the time!” I was the first to raise my voice. I did have a habit of judging people, but I was always harder on Trevor for.. well for some reason that seemed to escape me right now.

“And yours isn’t up your own too?” Trevor sarcastically laughed, leaning into his friend’s side and slapping the taller brunette’s shoulder. “You hear her? Dude, she’s delusional.” His friend’s eyes went wide with frustration. He looked done with us both.

“Fuck you, Trevor!” I slammed my hands on the table as I shot out of my seat. People were looking at us now. The victim of my outburst had gone quiet, but he looked just as angry as I was.

“Fuck you too.” It was spoken calmly. It made me want to reach across the table and wring his neck. He could be loud and annoying all day, but when I actually want him to match my energy and give me an outburst, he has nothing.

“Kelly, let me out.” I watched her slip out of the booth, her face red out of embarrassment. I immediately grabbed my jacket and purse, and stepped out, flipping Trevor the bird as I stormed out of the restaurant.

Screw Trevor and his attitude. His perfect hair and his loud mouth. Especially his pretty eyes and his stuck up personality.

I finally told Kelly after the incident, that I would go out with her when she wanted to go out with Trevor’s friend, but I was done being anywhere around Trevor himself. I couldn’t do it any more. My plan to avoid him like the plague was effective. Trevor and I took different college classes, and I knew the campus well enough to get around and avoid most of his general education courses. I was hopeful that maybe I could go the rest of the year without seeing him. Until Kelly told me she wanted to go to a party on Friday. Something about the university hockey team hosting one in a frat who let them take over for a night. I had half a mind to say no, but a party was a party. I wouldn’t let her go alone. It wasn’t safe.

“What do you think?” Kelly stepped out of the dorm bathroom and walked down the hall, her black jeans hugging her hips and the signature Boston University jersey tucked in the front. She was smiling like an idiot. She looked good though, and I felt an odd pang in my chest. I wondered if the vibrant red on those jerseys would look as good on me as it did on her.

“You look beautiful. Aiden is going to love this on you.” I smiled at Kelly, and I could tell my words lifted her confidence.

“Show me yours now,” she pointed a finger in my direction. I quickly stood up to show off my ripped jeans and the cream colored shirt I wore.

“There’s gonna be all these people here, and you chose to wear- to wear the blandest outfit ever?” Kelly teased me as I rolled my eyes at her.

“I just threw on the best outfit I had to effectively kick Trevor in the teeth if the opportunity arises.” The words rolled off my tongue with a level of nonchalance that had Kelly tensing.

“Listen.. please- I really need you guys to not fight tonight.” Kelly made her way over to the door and slipped on her shoes, grabbing her car keys from the thumb tack they hung from on the wall. We weren’t supposed to ruin the walls or puncture them, but Kelly lost her keys so much that we both decided it would have to be fine. I’d spackle the wall if it meant that much to them.

“I swear. Tonight I’m gonna get wasted, and find a good spot to relax. No Trevor. No fighting.” I followed Kelly to the door, placing my hands on her shoulders. “I swear on all that is holy..” which was technically a lot considering how many religions there were.

I gave Kelly my best pep talk once we arrived at the party, and when she got out of the car, I straightened the jersey on her shoulders and turned her around to walk inside. I took note of the last name on her back. People would know who she was there for.

I watched Kelly take a few steps forward before joining her in the walk to the door- which was wide open. Cars were parked all over the street outside, and the front lawn of the house was lit by the dim glimmer of street lamps. The music flowed through the open door, as did the chilly glow of icy white lights. A contrast to the usual bright neon, or warm orange lights. But god knows what the hockey players are up to.

Upon entering, I found out. It was a hockey themed party. The lights were somehow supposed to resemble that. The ice, I guessed. The music was blasting, people were running about with red, blue, and white solo cups. I could smell alcohol all over. Then I heard the jovial screams of various hockey players, only to step into the spacious living room and find couches and chairs tipped over to form a makeshift rink. People were standing around against the walls watching and waiting for a turn to play drunken mini sticks. I had to observe the chaos for a moment long enough to get the point of the game. If you’re scored on, you take a shot.

I slowly grabbed Kelly’s arm and walked with her further into the house, finding more of the commotion to be in the kitchen along with clinking bottles. A tall boy with fluffy hair was stood on the far side of the island, pouring drinks for people as they came through. I assumed he was a player, but he wore a USA hockey jersey. He had to be a friend of somebody’s then. The boy looked up at us when he noticed we’d entered the room, gesturing toward a chalk board with different drinks on it. It was oddly enough, the nicest college party I’ve been to.

By the time I was our turn, Kelly had asked for some fruity drink called a, ‘Drunk Hatty.’ The boy mixing drinks explained that every option was a player’s favorite mixture of alcohols and other substances. He gave me an extra look before suggesting the one near the bottom labeled as the special. But it had ‘Gato’ in the name and I was never a big Gatorade fan. Instead I asked for a makeshift margarita, and admittedly, I felt embarrassed having to say the name. ‘Bar Down.’ I’d been to enough college hockey to know a lot of the terminology, but that one I had yet to hear.

“That’s my best friend’s drink. He loves it.” The makeshift bartender made casual conversation as he mixed our drinks before handing them over and sending us on our way with the information that most everybody was out back.

“Have you seen him before?” I asked Kelly as I opened the sliding glass door.

“No. Never,” Kelly stepped outside before I followed. I pulled the door shut behind us and took in the new atmosphere outdoors. This was where the bulk of the party was. There was separate music playing, and someone set up red fairy lights off the posts of the back porch.

“Kells!” I heard the recognizable voice of Aiden shout before my eyes found him. Kelly glanced at me nervously before I waved a hand and told her to go have fun. I was by no means an introvert. I would find somebody to spend time with.

That somebody just happened to be a bright blonde haired boy with an accent I could tell came from the city of Boston. He had a threaded bracelet on, and a backwards hat. Through spending my time with him, I learned he was one of the frat boys. Usually I wouldn’t spend my time around them, but this one seemed tolerable.

“So Justin,” I began, sitting on the back porch lawn chairs with him while I examined the commotion. Trevor was over helping another face I didn’t know with music. I don’t know why my eyes kept finding him, but they did.

“We should go inside, yeah? My room’s upstairs.” The offer slipped from his lips faster than I could finish my own sentence. I immediately shook my head.

“That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Come on. Doesn’t have to be what you came for.. it can be what you realized you need.” It was vile, and yet somehow this man thought it was a normal thing to say. I turned him down. Instead of going away, he was reaching for my arm and insisting I go anyways. Despite the fact that it’s not what I want. He tugged on my arm as he stood up. Not harsh, but still persistent.

“No!” I raised my voice over the music. This time he pulled harder on my arm, effectively jerking me out of my seat. My stomach turned, my body felt like it was on fire. I was in shock. Sometimes even I forgot how cruel the people of the world could be.

“Please, stop.” It was a quiet plea, but I watched Justin turn to take me inside, his hand slipping from where it gripped my arm to grab my hand. Holding on tight.

“Hey!” Both mine and Justin’s heads snapped in the direction of the boy bounding up the three porch steps. He skipped the first two. Long legs.

“Back off, Justin.” Trevor’s tone was a warning, but Justin’s grip didn’t falter.

“She’s not yours, Zeg.” I felt like an object. This man only cared about one thing. He thought he could just have it.

I watched Trevor’s jaw tighten. It was such a small shift, but I knew it so well because I looked for it when I knew I had pissed him off to the point of no return. There was a beat of silence that followed. Then Justin turned to continue his path toward the door. I let out a quiet cry. Trevor started swinging.

After that, I was released. Aiden and a few other hockey players were sprinting across the yard to the commotion while Trevor slammed Justin up against the wall. Tears sprung to my eyes. Kelly reached for me over the deck rail, and I climbed over it in distress to get to her. The boys were fighting in front of the steps, and I feared trying to sneak past them.

Profanities were exchanged between the hostile boys while Kelly held me against her side. Tears fell at a rapid pace down my face, the alcohol in my system only making me more emotional. My best friend took me to the car and got me seated in the back, so there wouldn’t be an awkward barrier while she held me.

I felt bad for starting a fight, and I felt bad that of all people, I dragged Trevor into it. “I promised,” I tried to let the words fall out.

“This is not your fault.. none of this is on you.”

“Is it what I wore?” I found myself subconsciously checking my outfit. The holes in my jeans ran the length of my thighs. Had that been my crucial mistake?

“Honey.” Kelly grabbed my face in her hands, tilting my head to look at her. “It is never what you wear. And This is not your fault.” She paused, “do you understand?” I was hesitant to nod, sniffing as she wiped my tears from my cheeks.

“I have to go grab my phone.. you’ll be fine alone for a minute? Lock the car while I’m gone?” I nodded. Kelly gave me a brief squeeze before climbing out of the back seat. I leaned between the two front ones, and pressed the lock button twice, hearing all four doors click.

Then I curled up in the back seat, kicking my shoes off and pulling my knees up to my chest. A minute passed before I heard a knock on the window. My head shot up to the sound, met with the dopey face of my arch nemesis, and yet also my protector. He had the beginnings of a bruise beneath his eye, right over his cheekbone. My brow furrowed in guilt. I felt bad. I slowly moved from my position to unlock the door, watching as he opened it and climbed in.

I was cautious as I inched across the seat, pressing my back against the opposite door and pulling my knees to my chest once again as Trevor shut the door on his side.

“Fuck- there’s no leg room.” I watched as he struggled to get comfortable. Eventually he gave up and looked toward me. “Are you okay?” I liked this version of Trevor. Soft spoken, sincere. I nodded my head, though the tears returning to my eyes said otherwise.

“You didn’t have to help me.” I whispered, hesitant to meet his eyes, so instead, I looked down at his shoes.

“Yeah well.. somebody has to defend your honor.” His words were a stinging reminder of how I’d treated him before. He had no malicious intent. He didn’t expect me to pay him back, or do anything for him. He protected me because he cared. Because it was the right thing to do. In my emotional state, I practically launched myself across the back seat. Trevor looked like he was under attack before I settled against his side and broke out into tears, gripping his jersey as I mumbled quiet sorries and regrets.

“Hey, hey..” Trevor’s arms fell over my body, holding me close as he searched for the right words to say. “Everything’s gonna be okay. I’ll always be here for you.”

Days ago, he would have said he wanted to see me dropped in the middle of the ocean and left behind. And to be honest, I would have said the same. But something shifted now. Something had changed.

“I thought you hated me..” I whispered helplessly, a quiet cough escaping my lips. The cold air nipped at my skin, causing me to shimmy in closer to Trevor. He was warmer than I was.

“I don’t hate you.. you just..” Trevor sighed. “You stress me out. It’s hard trying to impress somebody when they’re always criticizing you. I guess I just- it frustrates me. It doesn’t mean I should say the things that I do. I never should.. and for that, I’m sorry. But god-“ Trevor’s gaze was now glued to the headrest of the seat in front of us. I lifted my eyes to spot him, the gears turning, trying to find the right words once again.

He wanted to impress me… for what?

“I guess it’s hard to make somebody perfect fall for you, huh?” Trevor tried to make a joke out of what I assumed were his own feelings. I slowly pulled back, my focus being diverted to a whole new topic from the one I was crying over moments ago. He was successful at distracting me from my anxieties thus far. A nervous laugh fell from his lips one second too late. Like the last kind in a group to get the joke.

“Trev, I’m not perfect. I treat you like shit all the time.” He shook his head, as if all was forgiven. I rested one of my hands on his shoulder. “It’s not okay..” I watched his eyes flicker between my own and my lips. If he were to kiss me right now.. would I want it?

“I guess maybe I’m so hard on you.. because I just don’t want to make some mistake and end up with a douche like Justin back there.” I looked down at his jersey, goosebumps rising on my arms as the cool air began to get to me. My fingers picked at a stray string on his shirt.

“End up with?” Trevor dipped his head in search of my eyes, brow lifted in a hopeful expression.

“Trevor,” I sounded exhausted. My subconscious mind telling me to quit ignoring my feelings. To quit pushing him away, and quit running in the same damn circles with him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’ll let it go.” Trevor relented, allowing me time to sink back into his embrace. A shiver shook my body, and I felt him shift before gently moving me away from himself.

I watched in concern as I assumed he was leaving. I didn’t want him to go. Rather than opening the car door, Trevor slipped off his jersey and turned his body to face my own. “Here..” I reached to take it from him, but I should have known Trevor better than that. Always extra.

A smile painted his lips as he pulled the jersey right over my head, effectively messing up my hair. I slipped my arms through the sleeves, hit by a wave of emotion. I came to a conclusion. If he were to kiss me, I would want it.

“End up with.” I clarified, catching him off guard. “Tonight’s been such a shit show. Trevor our entire- well.. since we’ve met each other, it’s been all wrong.” I watched him lean closer, hesitant but hopeful. He didn’t want to make the same mistake Justin did.

“Yeah?” He encouraged me to go on.

“We’ll give it another go?” I offered, my hands finding his smooth cheeks.

“Yeah..” Trevor sighed out, leaning in as did I,

“Just sit here with me?” He nodded, gently moving his legs up onto the back seat and gesturing for me to climb into his lap. I did so with ease. While he sat stretched across the back seat, I faced the front of the car, pulling my knees back up and leaning against his chest. My head rested against Trevor’s shoulder, and I could hear him chuckle every so often when my breath fanned against his neck. His arm lowered and rested on my back, holding me close as the shift in our realities became apparent.

“Oh dude… I don’t even fit in here sideways.”

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