#Get redshotted

[tiaet-official]

I call dramatic silhouette shots with a red background "Redshots" and I expect the future fandom to cal them that too.

If they don't, TO LIMBO WITH YOU!!!

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Do Re Mi | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Spencer finds his neighbor distraught and in distress at the BAU Headquarters with the idea that her ex-boyfriend might have something to do with the recent string of murders in Quantico, Virginia, he can't but get the team involved.

Warnings: Your usual Criminal Minds murder,

Author's note: Sorry for any discrepencies in the workings of the FBI, I don't really know anything about it aside from what I see on tv.

And if your name actually is Layla, make it into something else for this one, yeah?

Words: 4,237 

Her heart was beating in her throat. Her hands were sweating. Her mind was going a thousand miles per hour with hurried thoughts of worry and fear. She needed to find him. She needed to tell him. 

“Oh, hey, honey, you look a little lost.” The sweet voice snapped her out of her thoughts immediately.

When y/n flinched, she looked right into the deep brown eyes of the colorful blonde woman that had walked up to her. “Uh, I-I,” she frantically started to search for her words. “Spence–Spencer…” 

“You’re looking for Spencer?” the woman asked, clearly familiar with the one she was looking for. “Okay. Okay, I can bring you to Spencer. Hey, honey, can you breathe in deep for me?” She placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she gave the sweet order. Y/N inhaled a deep breath, trying to still her fast-beating heart. “That’s better. Okay, let’s go find Boy Wonder.” As the colorful woman guided the now-less-distressed one into the bullpen, she asked, “What’s your name? I’m Penelope.” 

“Y/N,” she simply answered with a soft smile tugging at her lips. 

“Good morning, baby girl,” someone said as the two passed him. Y/N didn’t even register him at first until Penelope halted in her tracks. 

“Can I show you a good morning at another moment? Trying to find Boy Wonder.” 

The man’s eyes flicked down to the woman tucked beneath Penelope’s arm. “Who’s this gorgeous lady?” he asked, his tone flirtatious, but Y/N didn’t quite register it as her eyes were frantically scanning the place for the familiar face. 

“Y/N?” The voice she’d been aching to hear finally cut through her distressed trance. 

Y/N’s eyes snapped up towards the gorgeous, familiar honey colored eyes. Her shoulders slumped as she felt the weight roll right off, the tears coming down with it. Launching herself out of Penelope’s arms and into Spencer’s, the girl’s body was overtaken by loud sobs. 

“What’s going on?” Spencer asked, wrapping his arms around the girl while his eyes shot questions at his co-workers. Both Penelope and Derek simply shrugged, neither of them knowing what was going on. 

“I found her like this in the hallway,” Penelope answered. 

Spencer looked down, worry written all over his face. “All right, let’s sit down, shall we?” he asked and started making his way to the briefing room with her. “Can one of you get her a glass of water?” he asked over his shoulder. 

Frantically trying to get a grip on themselves, Penelope and Derek scattered to do as told while Spencer walked into the briefing room with Y/N where he gently placed her onto a chair. 

“You okay?” he asked as he himself took a seat on the chair next to her, turning it so he was facing her. 

Slowly nodding her head, Y/N’s redshot eyes moved up to Spencer’s where she found a bit of solace, a bit of the safety she so desperately needed. The girl opened her mouth to say something just as Derek and Penelope entered the briefing room with a glass of water. 

“Here you go, Sugar,” Penelope said sweetly as she handed the unfamiliar girl the beverage. 

“What’s going on, Reid?” The guy next to Penelope asked, his voice stern yet laced with a little worry. 

Spencer turned to Y/N again, searching her eyes for an answer. After a couple of sips of water, Y/N heaved in a deep breath before moving her gaze to the board in the room where the agents had collected the evidence for the case they were working on. 

She was silent for a couple of seconds as she looked at all four victims. “I know who killed them,” she whispered before looking back at Spencer. “And I’m next.” 

Within a second, Spencer’s head snapped up towards his colleagues, all three of them equally confused. His brows knitted together when he turned back to Y/N, leaning closer towards her. “Y/N, wh-what are you talking about?” 

“You said I should come to you if something was wrong,” she whispered with fresh tears running down her cheeks. 

Spencer did remember him saying that to her one night when he walked up to his apartment, nearly bumping into someone on the stairs as someone else was screaming at the runner. When he reached the top of the stairs, he found his neighbor, Y/N, with tears streaming down her face. 

Reaching for her hands, Spencer squeezed ever so slightly to let her know he was there for her. “Did Tristan do something to you, Y/N?” 

Her lip quivered. Her eyes flitted back to the photos on the white board. “Not yet,” she whimpered. 

“Reid,” Derek caught his attention, wordlessly asking him for a word away from the girl. After squeezing her hands once more, Spencer got up and joined Penelope and Derek by the door. “What’s going on? Who is this?” 

“It’s y/n, my next-door neighbor,” he answered, looking back at the fragile girl in their midst. “She-” he sighed. “I came home one time when she was yelling at her boyfriend. They were fighting about something and she was upset. I-I told her that if something ever happened, if she ever needed anyone to talk to, she could come to me.” 

“You think her boyfriend could’ve done that?” Derek asked, pointing at the whiteboard behind Spencer. “Are you sure she’s not just upset because he broke her heart?” 

Letting out a deep sigh, Spencer shrugged. “I don’t know, man. But maybe we should hear her out? Get the rest of the team in on this?” 

A deep frown creased Derek’s forehead. “You’re seriously buying this?” he asked, pointing at the girl. 

“Morgan, look how upset she is!” Penelope exclaimed in a whisper. “She was completely distraught when I found her, this isn’t like some boy just breaking her heart. There’s more.” 

Spencer and Garcia both looked at Derek in anticipation, waiting for his reaction. “All right. Fine. Let’s get the team and hear her out on this one.” 

Nodding his head curtly in gratitude, Spencer turned on his heel to rejoin his neighbor while Derek and Penelope went to get the rest of the team. 

“What’s going on?” A tall man with dark hair and a forever-frown on his face, asked when he entered the room where the rest of his team had gathered. 

Spencer rose to his feet cautiously. “Hotch, this is my next-door neighbor, Y/N. She might know something about the case we’re working on.” 

Hotch’s eyes skidded towards the fragile girl in the briefing room. For a moment, the man just inspected her before taking a seat with the rest of his colleagues, ready to listen to whatever she had to say. 

“Y/N,” the woman that had been introduced to her as JJ, spoke up, capturing her attention. “Can you tell us why you think your boyfriend had anything to do with these murders?” she asked, pointing at the pictures. 

Glancing over at Spencer for a second, just to find her footing, Y/N nodded her head before taking a deep breath. “Those are his ex-girlfriends,” she started with a sniffle. “Tristan talked about them all the time, especially when he was mad at me. H-he’d tell me Doreen was so much smarter than me or Mia had gentler hands… I met Fabiola once, so when I saw it on the news that she’d wound up dead and that Solange had gone missing, I just knew…”

Spencer’s hand reached for hers and squeezed it, Emily, the woman sitting next to her, doing the same to her shoulder. “Y/N, can you tell us something about Tristan? How did you meet him?”

“Through a dating website – that’s lame, I know. I just, uh, figured I could try. He was really nice when we talked online at first. Told me he was a musician… I have a bit of a soft spot for musicians,” she explained, chuckling dryly at the last part. Spencer looked up at the whiteboard, getting the gears in his mind to work. 

“What’s he like, personality-wise?” Derek then wanted to know.  

“Uhm,” she sniffled. “He, uh, he was actually really nice at the beginning. He was charming, chivalrous, … I really thought I had hit the jackpot with this man. But then two or three weeks in, he’d be saying these things that, like, …” she wasn’t sure how to explain it so she stopped, gathering her thoughts. “He’d need constant reassurance and then all of a sudden, he’d turn back into this overly confident man, taking charge.” 

The agents all exchanged glances, thinking the exact same thing. For now, they kept Y/N in the dark. “When was the last time you saw him?” Rossi asked. 

“Uh, couple days ago… I uh, I was talking to Spencer in the hallway when he came home all mad and broody, you remember that?” she asked her neighbor, who simply nodded with his eyes trained on the whiteboard. “He didn’t say anything to either of us and just walked inside. We had a fight right after.” 

Spencer suddenly got up and moved over to the whiteboard. “You said he was a musician?” he asked y/n, to which she simply hummed. Everyone had their eyes on the youngest recruit of their team as he grabbed a marker and wrote the first two letters of each name underneath the corresponding picture. 

DO - RE - MI - FA - SO

With wide eyes, Spencer turned to his co-workers while Derek’s eyes were on Y/N. “How are you so certain you’re gonna be next? Your name doesn’t–”

“I told him my name was Layla. I-it’s my middle name, I figured it wouldn’t do any harm. I–” Fresh tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at the evidence on the board. 

Hotch’s eyes landed on y/n. “Where does he live?” 

“Cherry Hill Road,” she whispered. 

The scraping of the chairs across the floor startled her ever so slightly as the agents got up from their chairs.  In a panic, y/n looked for Spencer, only calming down once he’s by her side again. “y/n, stay with Penelope, okay? I don’t want you to go anywhere until we catch this guy.” 

Y/N nodded her head before getting up and moving to follow the colorful blonde she had first encountered when she walked into the BAU headquarters. “Come on, Sugar,” Penelope said as she wrapped her arm around her once again to guide her to her office. “Make yourself right at home. You want some coffee? Tea?” 

Shaking her head, Y/N offered Penelope a quick smile before taking the chair that was furthest from the screens. For a while, y/n just watched as Penelope got to work. She researched everything she could find on Tristan Bell. Phone records, high school diplomas, … Anything that had left a paper trail, she would find. 

A good hour they waited until the team burst into the BAU again with somber expressions on their faces. “Briefing room, Garcia. Now,” Hotch ordered. The blonde beacon of color excused herself and told y/n to stay put before following her boss out like a lost puppy. 

The longer y/n stayed in Penelope’s office by herself, the more uncomfortable she felt. The woman had only left her alone for a mere two minutes, but to y/n, it felt like an eternity. The walls were starting to close in on her as she waited for Penelope’s return that didn’t seem to come. 

Agitated and scared out of her mind, y/n got up with a groan and made her way back to the briefing room. However, she halted in her tracks when she heard Spencer’s voice booming through the room. 

“We are not going to send her out like a piece of bait!” he concluded his speech, which, judging from his co-workers’ faces, had been going on for a while. “I don’t want her ending up in a body bag just like the others!” 

Inhaling deeply, y/n turned around the corner to show herself in the entrance of the open door. “I’ll do it,” she announced, capturing the agents’ attention. 

“Y/N–” Spencer tried, his eyes filling with worry. 

“Whatever it takes to catch this guy, Spence. We have to do it. So, use me.” 

Spencer exhaled in defeat before walking up to her. “You’re certain?” he asked, placing his hands on her cheeks, his fingers tangling up in her hair. Y/N nodded, the pads rubbing against her temples. “I promise you, nothing’s gonna happen to you, all right? I-I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re gonna be wired the entire time, so we can hear everything you’re saying,” Hotch continued to reassure her, causing her to turn towards him. Spencer dropped his hands as she did so. 

“We’ll put a tracker on you and we’re gonna be there, just a few feet away from you,” Rossi continued.

Nodding her head, y/n felt more and more confident about this whole idea. She looked back up at Spencer into those honey colored eyes she had become so infatuated with over the course of knowing him as her next-door-neighbor-turned friend. 

“Now, here’s the plan,” Hotch said and began explaining everything in detail before the entire team – including y/n – started gearing up for it. The agents all got into their bulletproof vests, made sure their guns were loaded while JJ and Penelope helped y/n wire up. 

As the agents moved to get to their vehicles, Spencer grabbed y/n’s wrist to pull her back for a moment. “You’re sure about this?” 

“Yes, Spencer, I am. We need to catch him before he gets to the rest of that musical scale.” The boy nodded before heaving in a deep breath. “Besides, I’ve got you to protect me, don’t I?” 

A wide smile befell Spencer’s lips. “Yeah, you do.” 

Once the both of them were convinced enough, Spencer joined the rest of his team in the SUV, while y/n got into her own car. She reached for her phone and dialed the number she hadn’t call in a couple of days. Nerves rushed through her veins in time with the dial tone that beeped in her ears. 

“What do you want?” he snapped immediately. 

Pushing back all the anger and nerves, y/n forced herself to let out a sob. “I’m sorry, Tristan. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said that night. You were right, I was being a bitch and I’ve been stupid but I’ve come to my senses now and I-I want you back, Tris. Can you-Can you meet me at our special spot?” Her voice sounded tearful and innocent enough for him to cave straight away. 

She heard the man sigh on the other side of the line. The sound of it alone sent shivers down her spine. “Sure, baby. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” 

“Okay,” y/n sniffled. “Thank you, baby. See you there.” 

Tristan hung up the phone before y/n slammed her flip phone shut with a sigh. “Did that sound convincing enough?” she asked, knowing the agents had been listening. 

“You’re a natural actress, mama,” said Derek, his smile audible in his tone. 

Smiling too, y/n started her car and drove off with the SUV just a few feet behind her. Now, the anxiety was really kicking in. So much could be going wrong. Spencer and his co-workers could be too late, leaving Tristan an open window for him to kill her the way he’d done his ex-girlfriends. She could just be the next victim. 

As if he could read her mind, Spencer’s voice came through her earpiece. “Hey, you’re gonna do great. You got this, okay? And we’ve got you…” he paused for a second as if debating his next words. “I’ve got you.” Something must’ve distracted him as a silence presided over a soft “What?” 

“Man, you’re so in love with her,” that was Derek’s voice, y/n was sure. 

“What? No I’m not.” 

“Yeah, you are,” Emily chuckled. 

Spencer scoffed when Derek spoke up again next. “When are you asking her out?” 

Grinning, and completely ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks. “Yeah, Spence, when are you gonna ask me out?” The agents fell completely silent. Spencer probably hadn’t even realized he was still holding the button of the walkie-talkie. “Honey, when I can’t hear something on your end, you should probably release the button. I could literally hear everything.” 

“I–uh…” Spencer muttered, clearly embarrassed by what had just happened. 

“Tell you what, if I get out of this alive, we’re getting coffee together. How’s that sound?” 

“When,” he quickly corrected me. “When you get out of this.” 

A smile tugged carefully at y/n’s lips. “Yeah. When.” 

Y/N pulled over in the park’s lot and before she could get out, she had to heave in a deep breath. Coming here brought way too many memories of them going on dates together, eating ice cream. The happy memories that all just felt like one big lie now that she knew who he really was. 

“All right, y/n,” Hotch’s voice sounded through her earpiece. “You remember what we agreed. Get him riled up enough that he confesses.” 

Y/N sniffed. “What if I get him so riled up he attacks?” she muttered, looking around to make sure no one could witness her talking to herself. 

“That won’t happen. And if it does, we’ve got him surrounded,” Hotch reassured her. 

Those words were enough for her to get into her position. On that very bench near the lake was where they’d ended their very first date. It was their special spot. Tristan had even carved their initials into the wood of the backrest. Y/N’s eyes found the carving quickly when she noticed the other initials too. 

D+T R+T M+T F+T S+T

“Seems this bench isn’t just our special spot,” she grumbled, scoffing at herself that he had made her believe she was special. She was just one of the many. The next girlfriend. The next victim. 

“Layla? Baby?” His voice alone sent shivers down her spine. She quickly shook the feeling off and turned around to look at him. Those dark blonde curls, the piercing blue eyes. While she had loved all of that at one point, she felt nothing but resentment and hatred towards every aspect of him. 

Y/N got up from the bench and made her way towards him. “I’m so glad you wanted to see me,” she said, trying to keep that hatred out of her voice. “I-I’ve made a big mistake, Tristan. I am so sorry.”

A chuckle rolled off his lips. “What are you even talking about, Lay?” 

“I–” She had to come up with something. Something that would rile him up. “I slept with him,” she blurted out, cursing at herself for doing so, but then she decided to roll with it. “Yeah, I slept with him behind your back, Tristan.” 

His jaw clenched visibly. “It’s that good-for-nothing Spencer, isn’t it?” His words were dripping with venom, sounding like he either wanted to kill her or Spencer. 

Y/N coughed, slightly embarrassed that the man himself could hear everything she was espousing. Even worse was that his friends could hear it, too. “Y-yeah… I’m so, so sorry, Tris. It was dumb and I just–” 

Scoffing, Tristan shook his head. “You’re the exact same as those bitches!” he yelled. “Whores, the lot of you! WHORES!” Y/N’s eyes darted around to make sure no one else was in the vicinity to hear his breakdown. 

“What are you talking about, Tristan?” she asked innocently, hoping it would evoke the right answer. 

“You and Solange, and Mia, … Y’all are one and the same, making me feel… incompetent…” 

Y/N’s head tilted slightly. “Ever think it might just be that?” she asked, eyes filled with fire. “Don’t you think that’s the reason why I ran to Spencer the first opportunity I had? You’re incompetent, you always value yourself above everyone else and you’re just fucking weak.” Between every single one of those last words, y/n took a step closer towards the boy she once fell for. He was towering over her, but it didn’t intimidate y/n in the slightest. She was on fire. She would get that confession out of him. “And Spencer?” she asked. “He’s twice the man you’ll ever be.” 

Though she was just saying those words to evoke a reaction from Tristan, they did hold some truth. Over the course of a couple weeks, Spencer and y/n had grown closer and closer. At first, it was just chats in the hallway, but it quickly evolved into spending nights together for dinner, watching movies. Spencer was someone she could talk to about everything and he’d listen, offer her the statistics and calm her down whenever she needed it. Up until now, she had just thought of them as good friends, but now that she was thinking about it, what she felt when she was with him was little more than that. 

“At least Spencer knows how to treat a woman,” she spat, immediately regretting her words when she felt the cold tip of the barrel against her forehead. No matter how scared she felt, she tried her hardest not to show it. “Do it then. Shoot. Kill me like you killed all your other exes,” she whispered, hoping the reverse psychology would work on him, hoping the words would have the agents spring into action. 

“FBI! Drop your weapon!” Hotch’s voice bellowed through the nightair. “Tristan Bell, drop your weapon and step away from the girl.” 

Sending one last glare at his ex-girlfriend, Tristan raised his hands in surrender before placing his gun on the grass. Y/N let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding before allowing herself to fall into JJ’s arms, who was approaching her to get her out of there anyway. 

“You did so great,” JJ whispered as she held the woman in her arms, guiding her towards a picnic bench a little further down, away from Tristan. Y/N cried in JJ’s arms, her body shaking with sobs while the blonde liaison soothed her. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

“Y/N? You okay?” Spencer’s familiar voice captured her attention. 

With bloodshot eyes and thick tears running down her cheeks, y/n looked up to find his beautiful honey eyes looking down at her, laced with worry. Letting out another cry, she launched herself into his arms, grateful to find her usual solace against his chest. 

“It’s over,” he whispered, allowing his fingers to tangle into her hair to scratch her scalp ever so softly. “You’re okay.” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “How about you and I go for that coffee, huh?” 

Sniffling, y/n pushed herself off him to look at him. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling. 

Y/N simply nodded and allowed him to guide her back to her car where he asked for her keys. He had left his bulletproof vest and gun with JJ, knowing y/n needed him more than the team did at this moment. 

The rest of the night, y/n and Spencer spent together in Spencer’s apartment with the coffee they’d grabbed from the nearest diner. Neither of them really wanted to be out at that moment. They just wanted to spend it together, in the confines of either one of their apartments. Though y/n did prefer his over her own. 

“Do you think I can only attract bad men?” she asked, not moving away from her very safe spot on his chest. 

“Mmh, no,” he replied, not really having to think about it. “I think you just had a bit of bad luck with this one. It honestly can happen to so many people. We’re unconsciously searching for somebody who has a conglomeration of negative and positive traits of the caretakers from our childhood.” 

“You’re saying I chose to be with Tristan because he reminded me of my parents?” y/n asked, looking up at him without taking her head off his chest. 

Spencer shrugged. “I mean, we all do that, we just don’t realize that we do.” 

“How do I find the right guy?” she then asked in a mumble, her eyes fixated on her fingers that were playing around with Spencer’s. 

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “You open your eyes.” 

At that, y/n looked up to find him looking down at her. The sparkle in his honey eyes and the soft smile that played on his lips got her stomach doing flips. In the time span she had known Spencer, she had never felt her stomach do these things. But she liked it. A lot. 

Y/N lifted her head and very cautiously leaned in closer until her lips brushed his. The kiss was hesitant at first, as if both of them were just trying to scout the area they were threading. But then Spencer’s free hand cupped her jaw and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. 

Pulling back, y/n couldn’t help the smile that etched its way to her lips. 

“Consider them opened.” 

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict@n0wornever@wanniiieeee@unnowhatthisistbh @Jassy122

[estsmutxx]

I have a request

Could you do one where y/n meets kells at a club and they hook up at his and before they start hooking up he’s dirty talking y/n and she tells him she’s never had an orgasm before so when they hook up it’s like her first experience orgasming

Plot:you meet Colson at the club.

Pairings: colson x yn

Warnings/tags:Hook ups,dirty talk,y/ns first orgasm,nipple play,degrading,choking,praising,overstim,round two,unprotected sex,shower sex,anal

It was a friday night,and the club was pretty busy. You had came there alone,hoping to get your mind off the stressful day you had at work. You had also hoped to meet someone since you've been single for a while,but it wasn't your top priority. In did seem that almost everyone in this club was all over another person,though.

You sighed to yourself,looking straight forward to the dance floor. You got up,heading to the bar. "Hey." A blonde man stopped you. "Hi." You looked up,looking into his redshot eyes. "Can I buy you a drink?" He asked. You nodded,soaking up the image of him standing in front of you. "I would love that,thank you." You spoke.

He flashed a smile at you,walking you over to the stools. "What do you drink?" He asked. "Whiskey." You responded. His smile grew wider, "a girl after my own heart." He flagged down the bartender,getting you both a shot of whiskey. "Thank you." You said,smiling at him then taking the shot. "Of course. I'm Colson by the way." He said. "Y/n." You responded. He looked up into your eyes,his face relaxing. "You're beautiful." He said,admiring you under the club lights. "Thank you,love." You responded.You could tell he only wanted to fuck,and you were completely okay with that. The way his tattoos stood out on his body made you feel like you were melting.

"What are you doing here?" He asked,ordering another drink. "Just looking for fun,you?" You responded. "Same thing.You look so good in that dress,mind if I take it off?" He asked casually. "I think we should go. Your place or mine?" You asked,not ready to play anymore games,you wanted this man. He took your hand gently, "Mine."

________________________________

(Time skip)

When you finally got to his house he immediately pushed you on his bed. "You're so fucking sexy." He mumbled,kissing up from your neck down to your collarbone. "Colson." You said between gasps. "Mhm?" He said,pulling your dress up and pushing your underwear to the side. "I've never had an orgasm before." You said,fully expecting him to kick you out. "That's okay. I'm glad to be your first." He said. He cupped your tits with one hand,toying with your nipples. "Oh fuck." You moaned,your eyes fluttering. "You like that"He asked. "Fuck yes." You replied.

He pulled away his hands,unbuckling his belt. "Tell me when you're close. You can do that for me,yeah?" He asked. "Yes." You choked out. He  pushed his whole length into you,your wetness making it easy. "God you feel so good already." He praised. "Fuck." You moaned,his body hovering over you. "Feels good,huh?" He asked,breathing heavily on your neck. "Y-yes." You forced out. His thrusts were fast and intense,and you liked that. You had no idea he was this big either.

"Mmm." You moaned,followed by Colson's raspy groans. "You're doing so good." He said,one hand gripping your thigh for easier access. He stared at your tits as they bounced up and down from his thrusts. "Fuck." He moaned,closing his eyes. "You're gonna make me cum already,you look so pretty with me inside of you." He said. You gasped,feeling him speed up. His vocalness made you want to explode right then and there. His dick twitched inside of you,hitting directly on your g spot. "Oh fuck!" You yelled. You could tell your words almost pushed him to the edge.

"Hold it for me baby." He struggled to say. "I can't!" You yelled out,his dick hitting your clit repeatedly. "I can't,i'm gonna cum." You complained. He covered your mouth with his hand,silencing your moans as he thrusted harder. "Fuck." You moaned against his hand. "Seeing you like this is gonna make me cum." He groaned. That was enough to push you towards the edge. Your legs started to shake and you felt the pit in your stomach start to get stronger. "Oh my god." You moaned loudly. He came inside of you,both of you finishing at the same time.

You laid on his bed,catching your breath. "You did good,how was your first time?" He asked,giving you a kiss. "Amazing." You responded with a smile. "I'm glad." He said. He helped you sit up and you leaned against his shoulder. "Do you wanna take a shower together?" He asked. "Mhm." You responded. He held your hand and brought you to his bathroom. He turned on the shower then you both stepped in.

"Can you get my back?" You asked him. He nodded, "of course." He put some soap on a washcloth and rubbed it against your body. "Thank you." You said. "Mhmm." He hummed. After he was done washing you off you wrapped your arms around his neck. He pushed his body against yours,looking you in the eyes. "Round two?" He asked. "Please." You responded. A smirk grew on his face as he bent you over.

He pushed you both against the shower wall,the water hitting your back as his dick entered your ass. Your lips parted,his hands wrapping against your hips as he thrusted into you. Your legs were already weak,still recovering from round one. "Fuck,Y/n." "Faster." You demanded. He did as you said,speeding up his movements. "Fuck,my dick is so sensitive i'm gonna cum already."  He muttered. His words and voice made you weak. "Cum with me." He told you. You did as he said and came on his dick as he came in your ass. "Fuck,good girl."

[i-remove-color-from-posts]

Decolor the most important part about TiaET cutscenes; REDSHOTS.

Interesting color scheme, too bad it gets removed.

[icedfae]

closed starter for @fckmaiya​

   with  his  life  spiraling  out  of  control,  micah  didn’t  know  who  all  to  turn  to.  there  were  a  few  people  in  his  life  that  he  felt  closer  to  than  anything  else  but  three  of  them  were  not  getting  to  see  him  like  this.  archie,  he  refused  to  face  given  the  way  his  best  friend  had  decided  to  blow  up  their  friendship  (he  would  forgive  him,  in  time,  micah  had  always  been  too  soft  for  his  own  good).  austen  was  not  being  dragged  into  this  mess  no  matter  how  much  he  had  to  fight  for  that  to  happen,  she  could  stay  oblivious  to  it  as  far  as  he  was  concerned.  stella,  was  a  no  brainer.  he  needed  space  from  her  and  that’s  exactly  what  he  planned  to  do.  no  contact  between  the  two  of  them.  that  left  the  one  person  micah  had  been  horrible  to  for  months  --  long  before  any  of  this  starter:  maiya.  his  sister  had  hurt  him  over  and  over  again  but  there  was  a  small  difference  in  her  actions:  it  had  been  an  accident.  micah  knew,  deep  down,  that  if  maiya  could  take  it  all  back  she  would  in  a  heartbeat.  just  as  deep  down  he  knew  what  could  happen  the  moment  he  got  into  the  car  with  her  that  night.  so  as  he  made  his  way  through  his  sister’s  home,  key  finally  getting  use  after  months  of  collecting  dust,  he  rubbed  his  redshot  eyes  and  gave  her  a  melancholy  smile.  “hey  sis,  got  time  to  chat?  don’t  wanna  waste  your  wedding  planning  time  or  whatever.”  the  sarcasm  was  there,  micah  having  known  from  the  beginning  that  there  was  no  way  maiya  was  actually  getting  married  –  he  didn’t  need  it  confirmed.  he  just  knew.

[hoodieofholland]

🌷 fighting with Tom and his mum steps in to break it up because you guys are "too good of a couple to break up"

Okay, so i took it to bit of angst and it got a bit longer than expected, oops

Warnings: angst, jealous Tom.

It was an afternoon, on Saturday, you, Tom and his family were spending a nice weekend out at the beach. The weather was great and everyone was having fun, except until the moment you and Tom started to argue over something so small as jealously.

"Oh, you don't want to bring this up, Thomas", you said with determination as soon as you passed the door for the beach house his family rented for everyone. You didn't even know if there was someone at home when the two of you decided to get out of the beach and fight instead of enjoy the beautiful sunny day.

"I think I want it, actually", Tom said, crossing his arms over his chest, his black t-shirt wet from the water that didn't get time to dry of his body. "That's exactly what I want. Why would you keep talking with him, when you knew he was obviously flirting with you?"

You turned on your heels, too irritated that he kept saying the same things from just a couple minutes ago.

"What the hell, Tom! I've told you, I didn't know he was hitting on me, okay? He was just talking about his fucking cat and showing me pictures, that was all. The minute I got the hint what he was trying to do, I told him I had a boyfriend. Fuck, why won't you believe me?"

"I do believe you", he rolled his eyes. "I just don't get it how you couldn't notice what he was trying to do beforehand".

You walked straight to your room, letting the door open since you knew Tom would come to you. "Hey, I'm still talking".

"Well, I'm not", you shrugged, taking off your shorts and throwing it aside. You would take care of your dirty clothes later, when you weren't so pissed at him. "I'm done talking to you about this. And if you insist, I'll probably hit on that specific topic we both know that is much more problematic than what you saw at the beach".

"How can anything be more problematic? That ass fucking kissed you, y/n, for fuck's sake!"

"It wasn't even a proper kiss, Tom, I got off the second I felt it!", you shout, letting the frustration take control over your mouth. "And you know what I'm talking about! You know that I'm talking about the fact that you have a bunch of girls giggling and smiling at you every fucking day, and sometimes I have to stand behind a fucking phone to take pictures of them holding your waist like you were two best friends, and the fact that you get to kiss so many actresses, and still I won't complain"

"Because you know it's my fucking job!"

"Because I know it's not real and that my jealously is all in my head, Tom, because I know I trust you!"

"And I trust you too"

"That's not what it looks like"

"Oh, fuck off", he scoffed, "You wanted me to play nice with a guy who tried to kiss my girlfriend and you don't want me to be mad at it. Really, y/n? So you can tell me that if a girl came to me and tried to do the same damn thing you wouldn't be fucking mad at her?"

"I would probably get mad at her, not at you", you argue, closing your fists beside your tensed body.

"I'm not mad at you, I am just mad at-" Tom stopped himself to think better. "Well, I'm mad at you for not accepting that I have a reason to be frustrated".

You gasp in disbelief. "You're unbelievable", you shook your head, crossing the room to take a towel and finally head to a good hot and relaxing shower, "You're ruining my weekend, thanks".

Tom's face was getting red, his eyes focused on your tensed and stiff moves.

"I just saw a guy with his goddamn mouth on yours, sweetheart, if there's someone who just ruined the weekend, it was you", he was almost spitting his words.

You turned to look at him again, a face covered in what seemed disgust and disbelief. You were ready to say a whole lot of things back, but you contained yourself. The hurt on your chest wasn't worth it. You were in the brick of tears, waiting to roll down your cheeks, but you held them back. Tom looked beyond mad and that didn't look like your sweet boyfriend anymore. So you grabbed your towel and walked out of the room.

"Can you, please, stop walking out when we're talking?", he shouted, but you didn't stop until you reached the bathroom.

"This is not talking, Tom, and I better do so before I say something I regret".

"Like what?"

"Like I fucking hate you!"

The moment the words came out of your mouth, you closed your eyes tightly. That was it, the entire argument fucked everything up.

"You hate me?", Tom swallowed the knot on his throat. He took a couple of seconds in silence before his sharply words came out, the hurt audible on his voice. "If so, why don't you just go away? Why don't you break up with me? You hate my job, you hate me. I bet you even hate spending time with me. Go on".

"Stop playing the victim, Tom", you turned to face him, and regretted immediately. He was crying, his eyes red and wet. At the view, your voice involuntarily softened. "I didn't mean it in that way. I-".

"What is going on here?"

The voice of Tom's mother made both of you wake from the thick tension that seemed to be pulling you two to your own little world. Your eyes turn to the woman who has a worried expression on her face, brows pulled in a frown.

"Mum, we're kinda busy right now, would you just- just leave us alone, okay?", Tom didn't face her, trying to avoid that she looked at his redshot eyes.

"No, you're fighting!", she said, deception covering her words. "And why is that? Stop it, it was supposed to be your little vacation, why are you two yelling at each other?"

"I'm sorry, but I just can't take it right now", giving her an apologetic weak smile, you turn around again to enter the bathroom and lock yourself inside.

Tom keeps stood in front of that door, not so sure about what to do. He feels his mother rubbing his shoulder slightly. "She is breaking up with me".

He didn't know why he was telling his mother such a thing, when he knew it wasn't even a fact, but Tom suddenly felt so insecure, so fragile, thinking about the possibility of you walking out of that bathroom and making your bag to fly back home.

"Oh, no, this ain't happening", his mother turned to face him. "Tom, you're too good of a couple to break up. Trust me, you guys work so great together. I've never seen you so comfortable with anyone, and so happy whenever she's around. It was just a silly fight, I'm sure".

Tom sighed loudly and turned around, giving her mother a light touch on her shoulder, before entering your shared room.

He waited for you to come back, which took a while. You were in the bathtub, trying to calm your nerves down until the water was cold. When you were out, you found yourself surprised to see Tom sitting on the edge of the bed, head down as he seemed to be deep in thoughts. He didn't hear you at first, but when yours wet feet stepped inside, your towel around you body, he raised his head and his eyes scanned you, looking for some kind of sight of your current mood.

You walked around the room, collecting the pieces of clothes you needed, not saying a single word. Tom observed you until he couldn't hold back his desperation anymore.

"Please, don't break up with me"

You stopped on your tracks and looked at him, cocking an eyebrow at his sudden plea.

"What? I'm not gonna break up with you", you said, a bit confused. "Why would you think that? I was just mad at you".

"You said you hate me", he murmured, averting his gaze as his cheeks turned a light pink, "And I told you to break up with me, but that's not what I meant. I don't want this. And I'm sorry, for saying it and for overreacting. I- I don't think you ruined the weekend. I did, and I'm sorry for that too".

Though you really wanted to stay firm and tough, your heart melted at the sight in front of you. Your sweet boyfriend was back. He never left, but the jealously was taking the best of him.

You sighed, walking towards him and sitting beside his figure. "It's okay. But I don't hate you, and you know that, dumbass", you smile. "In fact, I love you. More than anything. I'm sorry for saying it, it was insensitive of me and I'm never saying it again".

Tom stared at you with relief, one of his hands cupping your face. "Thank you. I love you too, darling".

You lean towards his, letting your eyes flutter close, as you touch both noses and forehead. "Ya know, the weekend is not over yet. It's not ruined. What you wanna do?"

Tom shrugged. "Whatever you want, actually. I just want to spend some time alone with you".

You smile and take his lips on yours. "That sounds amazing for me".

Join hoodie 600's sleepover

[taechaos]

Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

[remmyswritings]

Taking Care of Him

Here you go @approved-by-dentists!! Congrats again on the 400!

The prompt is bolded below! Be prepared for all the fluffiest fluff in the world and Theo acting like a complete and utter baby.

“Out of all the times,” you thought to yourself… “Out of all the times Theo decides to be even more of a hopeless romantic than usual and drag me out into the rain, HE ends up getting sick. And of course, he’s too stubborn to admit he’s sick… This is getting out of hand.”

You finally decide that enough is enough. Theo won’t admit to anyone that he’s sick so you’ll just have to do it for him. So there you go stomping down the hallway to go see Madam Pomfrey, when suddenly you realize… you’ll have to take care of Theo. That stops you right there, the thought bringing a smile to your face because for once Your Hopeless Romantic won’t be able to refuse your help since he is sick… 

With the care package you made for him all wrapped up, you head down to Potions knowing that Zabini should be leaving in a couple of minutes and he’ll get you into the common room. The look on his face when he sees you standing there is priceless.

The second he opens his mouth you know Theo has it bad, “Your boyfriend is driving me nuts. I’m begging you, deal with him.”

He leads you down to the common room, him sitting down on one of the plush chairs as he points you in the direction of their room. When you walk inside you realize that Blaise was right, Theo was super sick. The lights were all off, and the dark green curtains surrounding your boyfriend’s bed were completely closed. If it weren’t for the fact that you could hear him rustling around you would have figured him to be sleeping. 

So as to not scare him, you knock one of the pillars and wait for the curtain to move, even just a touch. Then the curly looks that you love running your hair through from time to time suddenly make an appearance. 

“Sunshine,” a raspy voice calls out, “What are you doing here?”

In response, you bring the care package in front you, “What does it look like I’m doing mi amor? You are sick and I’m here to take care of you.” 

With that, you open the curtain to get a full view of Theo. He looks positively ghastly, pale skin that for a second reminds you of Malfoy, with a big red nose and redshot eyes. 

“Alright, move over,” you push him slightly so that he can give you space for you to sit next with him. 

He merely shakes his head.

“Theo stop being so goddamn stubborn,” you put your hands on your hips, “either you move over or I push on to the floor.”

All you hear in response is a groan falling from his lips, then you see him shuffle around allowing you to put the package in the spot where he just was. 

“Open it! You’ll love what I brought,” you smile.

While you hear him go through everything you bought- some chocolates, the poetry book that he loves reading from, essential oils and lotions that you brought from home- you head over to his closet and grab the one t-shirt that you always steal when you are in his dorm. Before going to join Theo, you grab another t-shirt. Sitting down in front of him, you slowly pull at the hem of what he is wearing, having him lift his arms up you drag the shirt over his head. Then you grab one of the lotions that you know he likes and slowly rub it between your hands, just enough to make it not frigid when you place it on his chest. It’s silent at first, with you carefully rubbing the lotion in a soothing motion. Until suddenly, you look up and catch Theo watching you with a look of admiration, his eyes watering slightly. You merely tilt your head in response.

“I’m sorry.” 

His statement catches you off guard, “For what?” 

“Taking care of me; it’s rotten work,” the tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

“Not when it’s you,” your hands, still full of lotion, cup Theo’s face as your forehead goes to touch his.

With that, you help him into the new shirt and lie next to him in bed, rubbing tiny circles into his arms as his hand goes running through your hair. The two of you slowly going to sleep. 

[gia-batmm-crickle22]

Fallen Angels - One-shot

"And the winners are... CRUSHER AND RUDY!"

The crowd reluctantly cheered as the cheater and his so-called teammate crossed the finish line first. Crusher cackled victoriously as he waved to the crowd.

For the first time in months, his cheating finally paid off. He finally beat Blaze at the race and won the Team Truck Challenge. His giant cheese balls managed to stop the red truck from ever reaching the finish line.

But at what cost?

A few minutes later, Blaze appeared at the finish line with AJ.

Alone.

Both had expressions of heartbreak and rage. Their eyes were redshot as they crossed the finish line. They turned to Crusher, who huffed at their dismay.

"So the unbeatable Blaze FINALLY lost a race, huh?" he smirked. "I KNEW that I was better than you,"

"Oh, enjoy your victory, Crusher, go on!" Blaze snarled. "You have NO idea what you just did!"

"Uh, cheat my way to win? Duh!" Crusher rolled his eyes before looking around. "Now where's Pickle? Don't tell me you left him to go fast and win by yourself? Psh, and they call YOU a great teammate,"

"He's..." AJ hissed, shutting his eyes to fight the tears as he dismounted from the driver's seat and clenched his fists. "He's gone,"

"What?" Crusher looked confused. "He left? In the middle of the race? Psh, of course he did. He couldn't stay focus on one activity, even if he wanted to,"

"No, he didn't leave." AJ gritted his teeth, glaring up. "He's... gone-gone."

"He's DEAD, Crusher!" Blaze yelled out. "HE'S FREAKING DEAD BECAUSE OF YOUR CHEAT!"

Crusher was taken back before scoffing, unconvinced. "Yeah right, like I'm gonna believe that. I'm not an idiot, Blaze,"

"HE IS DEAD, YOU... YOU BASTARD!" Blaze roared out, punching the dark blue truck with all his rage. "HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"Still not buying it," Crusher rolled his eyes and turned around to leave. "Hey, PICKLE, when you're done with this game that you and Blaze are playing, meet me back at our place!"

Blaze and AJ stared at the other in disbelief as he left the desert.

He was gonna realize the truth.

And when he did, it was gonna ruin him.

X

It's been weeks since the Team Truck Challenge. Blaze had told the news to the other racers, and they all mourned for the green truck.

Only Crusher didn't. He didn't even show up in the Monster Dome the day after the challenge, or at any day after the challenge.

Instead, he was at home, waiting for Pickle to come back. He had cleaned up the place and cooked himself meals and organized the house over and over again. He had sat on the couch and waited for the green truck to arrive.

But he never came.

But Crusher never lost hope. Instead, he just thought of the scenarios that could happen once the green truck came back.

"Hey, Pickle, heard you lost the race? Eh, told you that you weren't up for racing,"

"Pickle, what took you so long to get back home? You couldn't have been THAT slow, right?"

"Pickle, the place's been cleaned so many times! What took you so long?!"

"Hey, Pickle, where've you been? DId you get lost getting home again?"

And this went on for weeks and weeks. Soon, those weeks turned into months.

And he never once left his apartment to race.

.

.

.

Blaze was hesitant as he stood in front of Crusher's apartment door. He knew that he should be mad at the dark blue truck for what had happened months ago at the race, and he really was, but it worried him that no one has seen tire nor skin of him since then.

"Are you sure he even wants to see us?" AJ asked.

"Definitely not, but we need to make sure he's okay," Blaze told him before knocking on the door.

After a while, Crusher answered it, opening the door. He looked exhausted, the bags visible under his eyes, but he still managed to smirk at them.

"Oh, what a surprise!" he cackled. "You two ready to challenge me to a race after your loss months ago?"

"And to think we were SO worried about you," AJ rolled his eyes.

"About what?" Crusher raised an eyebrow.

"Crusher... how long have you been staying inside your place?" Blaze asked.

"As long as I can to wait for Pickle to come back, duh,"

Blaze and AJ grimaced. The boy sighed and got off of Blaze's driver seat.

"Crusher... Pickle's long gone,"

"You're lying," Crusher huffed. "And whatever you guys are planning to try to humble me down, it's NOT gonna work,"

"But we aren't-"

SLAM!

The duo winced as the door slammed shut in front of them. AJ let out a sigh.

"Blaze... I don't think he's gonna accept the truth that easily,"

"I hope he does," Blaze shook his head. "but I know that it's hard to have your best friend suddenly... die, so I hope he'll be okay when he realizes the truth,"

X

The months stretched further than anyone could count. Crusher was still inside his apartment, waiting for his best friend.

He didn't eat. He didn't sleep. He didn't leave to race. He didn't do anything but... wait.

And he kept waiting.

Unmoving from his spot on the couch.

Until one day...

.

.

.

KRIIING! KRIIING!

Crusher picked up his phone to answer the call.

"Hello?"

["Hey, Crusher,"] the familiar voice of Pickle's sister Millie rang through. ["How are you?"]

"Doing fine," Crusher shrugged. "Is Pickle with you?"

["..."] There was a pause from the other line before she responded. ["Crusher... Pickle's been dead for months now,"]

"He... what?" Crusher shook his head, refusing to believe it. "No, that can't be. It can't,"

["...oh, I see,"] Millie sighed. ["You're... You're still at THAT stage. Okay, I get it. Hope you feel better,"]

With that, the call ended. Crusher was confused as he glanced down at his phone. He sent texts to the rest of the Pickle Family, questioning if it was all true.

If Pickle was really gone.

And all he got were confirmations and pictures of the funeral. Of the tombstone.

Of the truth.

Crusher still couldn't believe what he was hearing and seeing. He had shakily dropped the phone and stared at the wall in horror.

HE was the one to blame this.

It was HIS cheat that had killed his best friend.

He saw it now.

And now, he wished he could take it all back.

X

Another few months flew by. Crusher was still inside his apartment.

But this time, he knew the truth, and it burnt in his mind and heart. Every word he had last spoken to the green truck guilted him.

Every time he had ignored him.

That one and only time he had used his cheats against him.

And now, he couldn't do anything to take back anything he did or said.

Now, he was too late.

Now, he could only think of scenarios of the past. Alternate scenarios of the things he could have said to his best friend before he died.

"Hey, Pickle, thanks for the cotton candy!"

"Maybe you're right, Pickle, maybe I shouldn't use this against them,"

"I know you're trying hard to help me, Pickle, and I appreciate your efforts,"

"You're right, Pickle, I shouldn't have taken the tools away,"

"You're right, maybe those bouncy tires aren't completely worth it..."

"Okay, Pickle, maybe it wasn't such a good idea kicking Darington out of his own stunt..."

"Thanks for helping me repair my boat, Pickle, I appreciate it,"

If only he had been nicer.

If only he had been better.

If only he hadn't cheated.

Things would have been nicer, better for them all if he hadn't cheated. A lot of things would have been better.

And Pickle wouldn't have died.

Just as he was downing himself and hugging himself at the corner of the living room, the door swung open, and he glanced up at a familiar figure entering the house...

X

"Hey, guys, I'm a little worried," Darington spoke up as he and the others gathered at Gabby's pit. "As much as I like racing without a cheat knocking us out, I'm kinda worried where Crusher is,"

"Same here," Stripes agreed.

"Crusher not showing up at races anymore," Zeg added.

"Blaze, AJ, didn't you boys say that you visited Crusher months ago?" Starla asked.

"We did," Blaze nodded. "but... he wasn't mentally stabled at that time,"

"He was still bragging about the Team Truck Challenge," AJ said. "and he was still in denial that Pickle's really gone,"

"Maybe we should head over and make sure he's okay," Gabby suggested.

"You're right, Gabby, we should," Blaze gave a nod of agreement.

The other racers agreed without hesitation then they all drove off out of the Monster Dome, with Gabby getting on her ATV. They all made it to Crusher's apartment, and Blaze was about to knock at the door when he heard laughing form inside.

"Is that... Crusher?"

"Yeah, it is," Starla frowned. "And he sounds... happy?"

"Why would he be happy? Pickle just died!" Darington cried out.

"Crusher, are you in there?" Blaze knocked on the door.

Laughter was the only response. worrying the monster machines. They opened the door and found Crusher at the corner, laughing to himself. The place was messier than they had thought as he stayed at the corner and didn't bother to move.

"Crusher...?"

"Oh, hey, guys!" Crusher turned to them with a wide smile that made them all wince.

"Crusher, are you okay?" Stripes asked.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I be?!" Crusher laughed.

"Crusher, Pickle's been dead for months," Starla pointed out.

"You guys are silly, he's right here!" Crusher motioned to the empty space beside him. "Right, Pickle?!"

"Uh, guys, I think he's hallucinating," Gabby whispered.

"I think that you might be right," AJ hissed and turned to his best friend. "Blaze?"

"Yeah..." Blaze sighed and drove forward. "Crusher... no one's there,"

"Psh, you're all crazy," Crusher chuckled.

"Look who's talking..." Stripes murmured.

"Stripes, be nice," Zeg told the tiger truck off.

"Crusher, please," Blaze sighed. "Do you want us to take you to the mental hospital? To a therapy? We wanna help, Crusher, please,"

"I'm fine, and so is Pickle!" Crusher insisted with a grin, wrapping his tire around nothing but air.

"Blaze, I don't think he's fine," Starla shook her head.

"I know, I know," Blaze frowned and turned away. "but we can't help if he doesn't want us to help,"

"Bye! Thanks for visiting!" Crusher giggled, his laughter off as the trucks all drove out of his apartment.

"We'll visit again tomorrow," Blaze told his friends as they left. "Maybe... Maybe he'll be fine by tomorrow,"

X

Months had passed. Crusher was still not better.

He was still inside his apartment, laughing and joking with the 'Pickle' he was seeing. The other racers came every day to check on him, but he still insisted that he was fine and that everything was fine.

That he was okay.

That Pickle was still alive.

After those months, however, they were horrified at the news of Crusher...

...and how the police found his body at the bottom of the bridge on the other side of Axle CIty...

[laughing-with-god]

Pen Pal Final (Part two of two)

Words; 6k

“Everyone can start again, not through love but through revenge.  Through the fire, we’re born again.  Peace by vengeance, brings the end.”

Surprisingly, you felt no sense of sadness.

Remorse simply evaded you with great ease.

Were you a fucked up person?  Had you suddenly hit the imaginary brick wall of stockholm syndrome?  Why did you feel so...indifferent? Aloof, even...

You watched the very woman who made your existence possible, who held you for 9 months and raised you well into adulthood, get butchered in cold blood right before you.  Her nagging and shrill voice was ringing in your ears only seconds prior, until it simply wasn’t anymore. Cut off by a stabbing of her esophagus and never allowed to speak again.  Abused into an eternal silence.

Yet, the breakage of some type of emotional dam never came.  What replaced it was an odd tingling of numbness that left you barren of remorse.  Like shell shock; your body thought denial of the nervous system was the best route of coping.  

Like a scene of a cheesy 70’s horror movie, you witnessed Jungkook grin evilly over the fresh corpse of your mother.  His youthful and dapper face held the disgusting splatters of gory red ink, although he seemed to pay it no attention as he turned his focus onto you.  

“Don’t worry, sugar.”  His voice was smooth and thick, unaffected yet sweet.  It doused the walls of the murder scene with sticky honey as if the most horrendous crime against humanity wasn’t just committed.  You watched your ‘pal’ take a good look at his knife and run his finger along the blade, collecting droplets of blood. He didn’t look up from the action as he said, “You’ll never have to worry about her again.”  

Your legs lost their strength and you felt your sense of balance waver.  Although you felt your body crumble, you refused to look away from Jungkook.  You much rather study his face that held an odd mixture of chaos with adolescence and was tainted with the plasma of your mother than look down upon the carcass itself.  

Behind his onyx irises gleamed a sick sense of satisfaction; if it wasn’t evident in his eyes it was sure clear from his smirk.  Justice had prevailed in his odd sense of logic and he had made himself the judge, jury and executioner of such case. Proud he stood, like a hunter over his captured and massacred prey, almost beaming at the prospect of hanging her ‘antlers’ on his wall as a cheap trophy.  

The smell of metallic iron and copper haunted the room, along with the remnants of your mom’s floral perfume that always managed to give you headaches.  This would be the final time you would experience that scent; it radiating out of the glands of her stiff and lifeless body and breeding with the aroma of her claret blood.  

You heard a bulky ‘thump’ sound.

It took you a bit to realize that it was the sound of your own body hitting the floor.  

Your legs had given out.  

Your pathetic legs were folded feebly underneath you, your upper half was still upright and staring ahead at the man in front of you.  In response, he raised a brow and casually stepped over the body before lowering himself to your level, feet still planted in the ground but arms over his knees and gazing expectantly at you.  

“What’s wrong?”  

Like watching a shapeshifter in action, you witnessed his unforgiving eyes morph into that of a docile puppy.  Glassy and syrupy, his orbs bore into yours in fondness and concern.

You quickly ripped your eye line away from him, not knowing if you could bear his face at a new found close-range.  

Instead you stared straight ahead, the steady stream of blood from the neck of your mother was flowing onto the carpet, staining the fabric below with a ruby puddle-like stain.  

Jungkook seemed to follow your gaze and breathed out a cheery ‘oh!’ when he caught sight of what you were so fixated on.  

“I’m sorry, dear.  I know you hate messes but I promise I’ll clean it all up.”  he focused more on the mess than the actual reason behind it.

A pause followed as you heard Jungkook stand up.  

“Now...where do you keep your garbage bags?”

--

The water that hit your frame was scolding hot, enough to boil really, yet it affected you not.  

You let the pattering stream beat your body into a gooey submission, your very skin screaming for the abuse to end as it broke out in angry red rashes.  The handle bar for the temperature of water was turned all the way to the hot side, releasing a rain of hell upon your naked and fragile form.

You were far from a masochist, yet the pleasure you took in such torment suggested a link to you and the behavior.

Although the setting of the shower would bring the assumption of cleaning oneself, you did not bother with soap.  

The blazing water was more than enough to disinfect whatever filth was attached to you.  

Yet the filth you seeked to rid of was not a physical layer of grime, rather it was a deeper sense of rot that tainted your very soul and essence of being.  

Guilt and shame was what you wished to wash away.  

The fiery water was meant to remind you of where you would be going after death.

And the agony it brought was meant to force you to experience a fraction of what your mother did when she was annihilated before you.

Why didn’t you do anything?

Why did you just sit and watch?

Why do you CONTINUE to do nothing?  

Why did you let your fears rule your life?  

First the world, your plan of action was to hide from it.  

And now, Jungkook….

He invaded your home and made himself comfortable...and you still just let him do what he pleases.  Your fate was easily compared to that of a cattle, sheltered until time for slaughter. And today you saw first hand how easy killing came to him.  A blink of an eye and you can be over and done with. Although your life was uneventful, you still treasured what other people were unable to; the comfiness of your home, the reading a book, a mug of your favorite warm drink…...and to think that all could be gone due to a swift mood swing of Jungkook.

After Jungkook had announced that he needed a garbage bag, your body leapt into auto-pilot and hastily made way to the bathroom.  

You locked yourself in the tiny room and pressed your body against it, the belated tears had made their arrival and cascaded down your face as sobs shook your body.  

You heard Jungkook knock on the door a few times, asking if you were okay.  

When he heard no response other than your cries, he blatantly told you in what he must’ve thought was a reassuring tone that he was going to “take care of the issue”.    

Moments later, you heard the front door of your apartment open and close.  

It was going without say, he was going to dispose of the body.  

You took it upon yourself to punish the sinful and weak actions you had partook in.  Since clearly any higher power up there was severely lacking in forcing their hand to you.  How was it that the evil seemed to live on while the good died? Your sister and mother were taken too soon and too harshly, while someone like you (spineless and delirious) and Jungkook (sinister and heartless) lived on.  It wasn’t fair. And for this very reason, you had a hard time believing in ‘god’....for what god allows such wicked actions to unfold amidst his creations?

Your body ached and the scalding temperature had become too much to bear, despite how much you wished to suffer.  

You found yourself turning the water off and facing the steamed bathroom, it had become so foggy that it was hard to even make out what was right in front of you.  

You reluctantly stepped out of the shower and snatched a towel, wrapping it around your shivering figure.  

You approached the sink and wiped the steam from the mirror above with your bare hand, the coldness of the glass causing you to hiss as your hand was basically grilled from the torment.  

You studied your reflection.  

Your face was paler than usual; pores having lost color due to shock.  Your torso downwards was reddish and heavily marked with what you had made your body endure in that bathtub.  Your hair was soaked and darkened, while your dull eyes stared back at you; redshot and traumatized.

You gazed at the broken girl in the mirror with self-hatred swirling in your gut with each passing second.

Time passed. Whether it was an hour or a few minutes, you did not know.  You and your reflection were having a stare down, it was easier to degrade and despise when you had the face of the person staring right back at you.  

Your dry throat let out an even drier chortle, the sound chilling even to you.  

You were beyond hope.  

--

When you heard the sound of the apartment door opening once more with Jungkook’s arrival, the fear and doom you were expecting to experience did not hit you.  

Instead, you just waited.  

You were laying on your bed, staring up at the white ceiling with a tranquility that you had no right to feel given current circumstances.  You suspected that it was from a peculiar sense of acceptance. Like when someone with a terminal disease is coming to terms with their end, you also felt no need to fight destiny.  Thus, you just waited for the ruler of your fate to find you.

Your ears had heard nothing but silence for hours now, therefore the noise of Jungkook’s approaching footsteps were easily picked up upon.  Jungkook wasted no time heading to the bedroom, searching your presence as if he was a moth to flame.

The door creaked open and he slowly emerged into the room.  

You still did not turn to face him, depending on hearing alone to deduce his movements and actions.  A quick shuffling followed and then you felt a weight press down beside you, his body now accompanying yours via laying right beside you and facing the ceiling.  

The sound of your guys’ breathing is all that was heard.  Jungkook’s breaths more shallow and quick while yours was deep and slow.  It was like this for a minute, almost a peaceful scene...until your mouth felt the need to move on its’ own accord.

“You’re a monster.”  

There it was...out in the open for Jungkook to dissect and ravish.  Your blunt and unfiltered feelings were finally dished out, this time with no fear of punishment that had held you back before.  It was something that needed to escape your chest, the weight of it was practically crushing you and breaking a few ribs in the process, it was a matter of time before it would smother your lungs.  Even if he were to beat or kill you for speaking so boldly, the relief of finally saying those words to him would easily overshadow the pain he could inflict on you. If those were your last words to your killer, you would at least die with some peace of mind.  

A sharp intake of breath.  Then, a chuckle.

“I know.”  Your felt more than heard Jungkook change position beside you, arm propped up on the pillow for him to rest his head on while he gazed down at you from a higher viewpoint.  “Can you blame me though? The world made me like this. You understand….right?”

You scoffed at this lukewarm response.  This was apparently a cue for him to continue even further.  

“Y/n, you can look down upon me from whatever pedestal you wish, but the fact of the matter is that we’re not too different you and I.  We both are one of a kind, the only two people who seem to notice how fucked and deranged our surroundings are. I’ve never met anyone else who saw things just as I had.  The only difference is that our strategies of surviving are different. Whilst I decide to fight back and get rid of people I need to, you simply chose to isolate yourself from everything.  But the core of our values and fears are the same. Identical, even.” Jungkook paused, most likely to allow you a second to process what he had just said. To let the seed fully plant in your brain and soak into your understanding.  “Baby, the only reason you’re shaken by me is because you see something in me. Deep inside, you know I would never hurt you.  So why are you so afraid? Well, the reason is this; you see yourself in me.”  

You blinked away oncoming tears, the words he had spoken were soul crushing- true or not.  They screamed in your itching ears and pounded viciously at your already bruised heart. Guilt ate away at you because the chain of events was spelled out for you; if you weren’t an anti-social and paranoid freak, then you would have never appealed to Jungkook or even reached out to him in the first place.  You were the honey that attracted the bee, knowingly or not. And it ended up being the worst mistake of your life. One that others would have to pay for with their lives.

“W-why?”  Your voice was watery and hoarse, defeated and battered.  

You didn’t even know what you were asking an explanation for.  There was too much that lacked any logical sense to you, you knew that you would never reach satisfying conclusions for half of them.  But you still would lap at whatever mental response Jungkook would give you, you wanted to die at least knowing as much as you could. Even if it was through the crazed lense of a killer.  

“Don’t be stupid, Y/n.  You’re smarter than that.  You know damn well that you belong to me as I belong to you.  We’re soulmates, every bit of ourselves is meant to compliment the other, even when we are opposites it only serves for greater balance.”  He huffed. “Don’t be like the other girls, they were too foolish to see how dedicated I am to those I love. I know you’re different and I know that seeing your mother die must’ve freaked you out but you have to trust that I know what’s best for you...for us.”

You licked your lips and shut your eyelids, hoping the added pressure would help dissolve the tears welling up in your eyes.  

“I would kill for you.  In fact, I already had. Can’t you see how loyal and faithful I am of you?  Do you think I would do that for just anyone? No….of course I wouldn’t. My violence is reserved for you because your soul was carefully constructed to be mine.  Out of all the inmates you could have gotten paired with, you got me. Out of all the ideologies you could’ve had, you shared my fucked up one. This isn’t coincidence, this is fate.  No matter how looney people may call me, I know god’s work when I see it.”

Those were the last words you heard before Jungkook glided the covers over your bodies, silently deeming it time for sleep before he engulfed your smaller frame with his limbs, like an octopus attempting to trap someone.  He kissed your temple and snuggled closer, quickly finding the sought after rest that you wouldn’t have the luxury of receiving till much later.

--

Your body was heavy with fatigue.  

Your mind was even more groggy, it’s usual gears were strained with the emotional stimulation you had experienced that day.  

You were somewhere between consciousness and sleep, not fully awake but also not well within the depths of rem cycle either.  Something just told you that you weren’t going to get sleep that night as well, but that didn’t stop you from feigning rest in Jungkook’s arms.  

Said killer was genuinely knocked out, grip still tight on you and heavy breathing of a relaxed man was sounding right in your ear.  

It was like clockwork in the otherwise mute room, the sounds of his intake and disposure of breath, each one radiating warmth upon your neck.  

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exha- “Psst!”

Your bleary eyes shot open at the sudden and unexpected whispering.  

Your lips trembled in shock.  

You knew very well that it wasn’t you nor Jungkook who made that noise.  

And nothing could have prepared you for what you saw when you turned your head towards the sound, the sight almost scream inducing and heart dropping.  

She was bent over the side of your bed, face close in proximity to yours.  She wore a white dress and her hair was down and flowing in its’ natural state, strands illuminated in the moonlight.  She gazed at you with care in her (E/c) orbs as her lips twisted up in a gentle smile, the fondness of seeing an old friend or loved one after a long time.  

Her face held features almost identical to yours, although hers’ were a bit more refined due to the aged nature.  The similarities gave away the obvious to any outsider who might have stumbled upon the sight, you two were siblings.

Such visitation would be more than welcomed and no cause for concern, if it weren’t for the fact your sister was dead.  

She released a giggle at your horrified expression, seemingly unable to understand why you’d be stunned at her arrival from beyond the grave.  

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time.”  She hushed before reaching over to nudge your arm, encouraging you to move.  Her touch wasn’t ice cold like movies or books depicted ghosts to be, instead it was just as warm and fleshy as how she felt when she was alive.  

You looked back at Jungkook, then back at her hoping she can see your conundrum of being stuck and not able to get up like she wished.  In response she just rolled her eyes, reminding you all too well of how carefree and bold your sister had been in life. She minded the killer not (as you probably would have too if you were dead and couldn’t be killed again) and grabbed your arm to pull you off the bed.  “Don’t worry, he’s not going to get up.”

Before you could ask her how she would even know that Jungkook would stay unaware, she was already dragging you out the room and to the main part of your apartment.  Surprisingly, you didn’t hear Jungkook awake from his slumber or seek out your now missing presence from his hold.

Her footsteps were speedy but soundless, and the remark of ‘running out of time’ rang in your head.  What time crunch could she possibly be under?

The living area of your home was doused in darkness, the only light source originated from the the street lights and moon that filtered through the windows.  Your sister guided you to a particular window, releasing your arm momentarily to unlock and open it.

You watched in confusion as she leaned out of the open window, as if to check something underneath the floor you lived in.

“W-what are you doing?”  You asked, not comprehending anything of what your ghost of a sister was setting out to accomplish.    

She turned to face you with a mischievous grin, a look you were familiar with when she usually was in the beginning process of cooking up an elaborate plan.  

“Y/n, did you know that there’s a fire escape right by this window?”  Her voice was innocent yet clever, like a teacher trying to gently lead a student to an answer without directly spelling it out to them.  

She turned to face you, and waved you over to get closer to the frame of the window and look down at whatever she was studying.  She wanted you to see something.

You did so without question, if your sister made a trip from the afterlife to visit; the least you could do is entertain whatever she wanted to show you.  

The briskness of the night air pinched at your cheeks as you leaned your face outside the window.  You looked down and saw the other windows of the people who lived floors below you, some dark and some still illuminated by light.  

Your brows furrowed at this mediocre sight.  But then your sister said something once again.  

“The neighbor who lives right below you, Mrs. Winkel I think, watches soap operas well into the break of dawn.”  

Your brows rose higher at that, confused at such an odd statement and even more befuddled at how she would know such information about people neither you or her had met.  It was so symblominal...like a riddle for you to solve.

“What does th-”  you were cut off by a pair of slim arms hugging you from behind, your sister having spooned you from the back as she rested her chin on your shoulder.  

“You’re going to live.  It’s not your time to go yet.  Trust me on this…Just heed my hints.”  

You turned around in order to ask her face to face to be more clear about what she was trying to say...but you were faced with nothing but a dark living room that was empty besides yourself.  

--

You awoke with a startle, your body having sat up as you gasped for air and placed a hand on your drumming heart.  

You wildly snapped your head back and forth, searching your bedroom for an unseen figure lurking in the shadows.  

But alas, everything was just as you had remembered it to be.  

Jungkook was still sleeping deeply beside you, arms this time holding a pillow instead of you.  

You took deep breaths and tried to calm down as you realized what had just happened; you had drifted off and had a dream.

It was just a dream.

Your sister wasn’t really here.  

You weren’t sure whether or not to be relieved by the revelation that your sister did not in fact rise from the dead to give you a little visit.  On the other hand, the discovery of it just being a dream was semi-alarming. You had never had dreams of her before, and the realism of it was concerning.

It felt so real…

Cold sweat dripped from your forehead and you ripped the covers off of your body in search for escape of the suffocating heat.  

Your throat and mouth were parched in a dryness that was the equivalent of having swallowed a handful of sand.  Your tastebuds were pleading for cool water to soothe the agony. Thus you got up on shaky legs and quietly made your way to the kitchen, careful not to awaken Jungkook.  

You took your time in pouring the water into the cup and gulping it down.  You were in no means in a rush to return to bed with Jungkook, you still were shocked that you even managed to catch a wink of rest next to him after what he did that day.  

While you drank the liquid, you found your mind replaying the dream over and over again in your head.  The details in it were so precise and careful, something you doubted your brain could conjure up on a whim.  

You wondered….

You found your eyes drifting to the very same window that your sister referenced in the dream.  Curiousity fueled you to walk over to it and peek through the glass, wondering if the sight would be the same to what you had seen in your dream.  

You gasped when you indeed saw what your sister had said; a fire escape was there.  

You froze in shock as you tried to piece together the unseen puzzle that was awaiting your resolution.  

“Did you know that there’s a fire escape right by this window?”

“Your neighbor right below you watches soap operas well into the break of dawn.”

“You’re going to live.”

“Trust me on this….just heed my hints.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as your sisters’ knowing voice rang in your mind…

Could it be that your dream was spelling out an escape plan?  

You took a deep breath and weighed out your options, silently gazing out the window and trying to calculate the logistics of such strategy.  

If you didn’t act out and attempt the window proposal, you would have to return back to Jungkook and possibly spend years with him...if he didn’t snap and kill you, that is.  Your options of escape were very limited to none, given you couldn’t just burst out the apartment due to your horrendous anxiety. Also, all means of reaching out were utterly destroyed by Jungkook.  The fire escape could be your only source of reaching out, yet it was a messy plan that held one too many untrustworthy factors. What if you used the escape to knock on your neighbor’s window and get her attention, only for her to shoo you away?  What if you fell off the escape and five stories down to your death? What if you got stuck and Jungkook was left to find you the next day? That would be a sure deathwish. Either way, you were not guaranteed happy ending.

“Trust me.”

You closed your eyes and heaved in air with shuddering breaths, along with whatever courage you could gather.  

You didn’t know if it was pathetic or liberating that you would rather die trying to leave him with this shitty plan rather than waiting the whole situation out with him.  

You slowly opened the window, sliding it upwards and cursing the little screeching noise it made after being utilized after so many years.

The night air was cold, but due to the adrenaline in your veins you managed to not feel it’s painful sting.  You slowly placed your foot onto the metal of the step on the fire escape, taking much longer than needed to slowly shift the rest of your weight onto it.  As if you were in slow motion, you tactfully descended downwards.

The window right below yours glowed like some sort of safe haven just awaiting you.  You noted with a tearful shock that you could see into the living room of this lady’s home and what you saw caused your heart to flutter; she was watching soap operas.  

“...watches soap operas well into the break of dawn.”

She was an older woman, this was given from her wrinkles, grey hair, slouched posture and seemingly homemade sweater.  Her beady eyes were magnified by the intensity of her prescription glasses, that reminded you of the bottom of coke glasses, as she soaked in the screen in front of her with awe.  

Your fate depended on this old little lady.  

You reached out a quivering hand and knocked thrice onto her glass window.  

She looked up and saw you, eyes widening almost comically before thrusting into action and moving her little senior legs to open the window.  

You cried and cried, looking at her in a pleading beg as she attempted to calm you and get you inside the safety of her home.  

“Please call 911.  Please call. I’m begging.”  You sobbed over and over again.  

--

The calming scent of peppermint tea was all you could smell as Mrs. Winkel threw a blanket over your shaking form.  

She had rushed you into her home and shut the window before closing the blinds.  Then she reached for her ancient home phone and dialed up the sacred three numbers that you had called out for like a prayer.  

She made you tea and tried to soothe you enough to get a clear picture of what was happening.  All you could manage to tell her was that there was a very bad man holding you hostage in your apartment.

Mrs. Winkel pinched your cheek and said something about ‘young and dumb love’ which made you cringe.  She probably thought this was a boyfriend having gone crazy situation. If only she knew there was a seasoned serial killer right above her.  

She had called the police about six minutes ago and you two were frantically waiting for their arrival.  She mentioned that the police station was somewhat far away from where you two lived, noting that it may take a while for them to come.  But they were on their way, and that was all that mattered.

This did nothing to help your nerves.  

Neither did the resounding bellowing noise of glass crashing violently that followed shortly after.

Like a bat out of hell, you watched in horror as he tumbled into the area with shards of glass raining down chaotically around him.  

The blade of a knife was held between his clenched teeth.  

The tea cup in your hand dropped as you realized how doomed you truly were.

He had found you.  

He had caught on to your little plan.  

And he was furious.  

Jungkook stood up to his full height, eyes sharp as steel and set on you and this poor old lady.  He tilted his head and retrieved his weapon from his mouth, tossing it casually in the air as if it were a pencil and not the way your mother had met her end.  

“....Well, this definitely is going to be my oldest one yet.”  He stalked forward and you felt Mrs. Winkel cower beside you. “I must say, I feel a little less guilty knowing you lived a full life.”  He rumbled, obviously addressing the elder.

Your blood ran cold and a terrible realization that you were going to witness yet another murder hit you like a freight train.  

You couldn’t let him do that.  

You just couldn’t.

Not when you were so close.  

In a swift and haste movement, you hurled your body into his in hopes of containing him in any way.  

You two rolled onto the floor, him groaning while you just tried your hardest to get that knife as far away from him as you can.  His grasp was stubborn however and your prying was rendered useless. You didn’t give up the fight though, if only it was for the sake of time until the cops came.  

This continued for a few seconds and you heard Mrs. Winkel scream and shuffle towards the exit of her home, hopefully calling for help.  

Jungkook released a grunt and steadily overpowered you, pinning you down with your hands above your head.  Your body weakly wriggled in response, for the first time ever you responded with fight instead of flight. It wasn’t like you had any choice though….

You stopped your movements when you noticed that his arms were simply unmoveable and pleadingly looked up at Jungkook’s bottomless orbs, hoping that a moment of vulnerability could get you through to him.  

“Don’t.”  You cried, desperate that there was a twinge of empathy in his cold heart...a crumb of logic somewhere left in his deranged mind.  Something.  He had to have been a normal guy at some point, right?  If only you could scrape through the layers of his insane persona to get to a softer side...a side that would give you a fighting chance of escaping.  

His doe eyes watered up with unshed tears, lower lip trembling as he clearly read the fear on your face….fear caused by him.  “I-I have to do this. It’s the only way to keep you with me.”

His voice was hoarse and for the first time ever, you heard a powerless tone seep from his words.  

You stilled as an epiphany stole your focus.  

Sympathy swelled in your heart, and an odd sense of love for this maniacal boy bestowed you.  Never would you excuse what he had done, yet the reasoning behind his actions was a tragedy like no other.  His love for you was beyond reason or morals, it was as self-destructive as it was outwardly destructive to any poor soul that crossed his path.  All because his worship of you that blinded him along with a basic sense of right and wrong. He showed his affection the only way he knew how; killing.  A string of victims before you were evidence of his overzealous allegiance to the object of his affection. It was a catastrophe that he had found you...that he had formed such a connection with the one person he thought would understand him.  That his mind was sick and yours was sicker. How hypocritical would it be for you to place judgment on someone who also had an illness of the mind?

In a final goodbye and unsaid apology, you leaned up and planted your lips against his.   He was going to rot away but you couldn’t bring yourself to be so harsh as to not give him a taste of what he so hungirly craved.  Maybe if he wasn’t so crazed and you weren’t so neurotic….you two would have made a decent pair. But destiny made you two too fundementaly flawed for you two to ever experience the luxury of love.  Jungkook only knew obsession, while you only knew fear.

His lips shivered against yours and you felt tears (that didn’t belong to you) splatter against your face.  

“Freeze!  Police! Get off the woman and put your hands in the air!”  

--

~Epilogue~

With the tale over, you raised your eyes to meet the gentle but shocked gaze of the judge.  

Your turn on the witness stand was lengthy, but it was what the case against Jungkook was built around.  You nervously spilled your guts to the courtroom, knowing all too well how naive you sounded and how fucked the series of events were.  

With the mention of Jungkook, you caught yourself looking across the courtroom (something you promised yourself you wouldn’t do) to find the man.  He was sitting on the defense side, orange jumpsuit looking all too familiar against his sturdy figure and snowy skin.

His black eyes pierced ruthlessly at you, devouring your soul whole while his masked expression revealed little emotion to the anecdote you had just exposed to the jury and judge.  Beside him, Jungkook’s lawyer sat with a puffed face and exhausted frown. The case was hard to defend and he without a doubt knew what an uphill battle it would be to get his client out of this.  Yet, Jungkook seemed relaxed and at peace with everything happening around him. His lawyer doing all the stressing out for him.

You attention was stolen by a police officer leading you off the witness stand and back to your seat.  

Moments later, the jury would announce their verdict.  

You however did not wish to stick around for that.  You gathered your bag and moved to leave the room, not wishing to be under these spectors’ microscope anymore by showing them your breakdown to Jungkook’s final punishment.  

You had come to terms long ago with Jungkook’s sanity, you set aside your judgements because Jungkook was right when he said that you saw yourself in him….

To watch him get sentenced to a possible death or even a more stricter life sentence was jarring to you.  You knew that it was what he deserved but it didn’t make the sting hurt any less. He needed help...if only someone was willing to help him.  But your plea to the jury for a mental institution was overruled by the death of your mother and his previous record of five victims.

You understood him in an odd way…he was like the more brutal half to your soul.  

But you also couldn’t forgive.

That’s why you decided to let Jungkook face the music alone.  It wasn’t revenge, it was justice. Your heart and brain were too in conflict with each other for you to view this without bias.  

When you headed for the exit of the courtroom, you heard the tortured hollering of Jungkook.  

“Y/N!!  DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!  I NEED YOU! WE NEED EACH OTHER!  I’M SORRY! YOU-” a struggling sound cut him off as some officers attempted to settle him back down.  

You didn’t look back.  

Jungkook was a part of you that needed to die, no matter how painful it would be.  

When you exited the courtroom and eventually the entire building, you smiled at the bustling sidewalks and streets before breathing in the crisp fall air.  

The world was indeed scary.

But after Jungkook, nothing could frighten you anymore.

(so....after 27,300 words pen Pal is finally over.  i’m kinda sorry if this ending was unsatisfactory bc I’ve always been bad with wrapping my stories up but like tbh I kinda don’t care what anyone says anymore.  So many ppl hit up my inbox about how they wanted the story to end up and someone even had a problem with the mom character which is funny bc I always planned for her death but like all I gotta say is; WRITE UR OWN FUCKING STORY.  I did.  So anyway srry for the mistakes bc I was in such a rush to post and my laptop thought it’d be cute to get virus.  Please tell me what you thought and send love to my other stories.  Signing off, Chinkbihh.)

(Ps, I kinda wanna do a FAQ for Pen pal for questions about the characters and process of writing this story, let me know if ya’ll would want this and what questions you have.)

[just-another-busy-fangirl-writes]

June 16, 2017

I am reposting old fic rec lists.  Unfortunately some of the blogs/stories have been removed, but I am still going to list them for historical reference.

Feel free to tag me in ANY fics you post, and see previous weeks’ fic recs HERE

SMUT

Imagine a Wild Night in Rome… by @bringmesomepie56   Imagine a wild night in Rome with your husband after the last day of JibCon.

Behind the Towel by @impalaimagining   You’re at your mom’s house with your kids when your husband sends you a very NSFW photo while he’s away.

Sharing is Caring by @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms   You are dating Jared Padalecki. One night, after you’ve gone to bed, Jared has Jensen and their friend Matt over. Matt thinks it would be funny if Jensen slid into bed, pretending to be Jared, to see how badly they could scare you. Little did they know that you hadn’t fallen asleep just yet and heard the entire conversation outside the bedroom door.

Sinner by @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid   Dean’s hands are magical.

Out for a Drive by @melissaj616   You and Sam escape the hotel room and Dean’s awful snoring to have a bit of alone time.

Why Does It Have To Be (Wrong or Wright) by @samanddeaninpanties (on AO3)   When Sam and Dean enter a tattoo parlor on Sam’s birthday Dean’s drawn to Castiel, the grumpy owner, and his twin brother Jimmy. Right away he learns that Cas and Jimmy are in an incestuous relationship and the adjustment period is surprisingly easy. After Dean, Cas, and Jimmy get together Jimmy drops a bombshell - he wants to bring a couple of friends into their bed for a night. The problem? None of them know anyone they trust outside of Benny and Sam. And Jimmy really, really, really wants Sam to fuck him.

FLUFF

Thorough Checkover by @one-shots-supernatural   The reader is sick, and Sam takes care of her. But as the reader get better. Sam and the reader start flirting more. Will anything come from it?

Neighbor, Friend, Protector, Soulmate by @oneshot-twoshot-redshot-blueshot   (flangst) Lucifer is worried about the way your boyfriend treats you.

Shelter Through the Storm by @samwinlover   The reader has always been a little afraid of thunderstorms, but thankfully her boyfriend is there to help her through the worst of them.

ANGST

In Another’s Eyes by @impalaimagining   You’re heartbroken after Jared leaves you. You see him with another woman in the tabloids, and call up an old friend to distract you. Unfortunately, the night out takes a turn when you show up to the same restaurant where Jared is having his date.

One More Day by @percywinchester27   11 years old Sam thinks his brother is invincible. What happens, when for the first time he realizes that his brother, however heroic he might be, is still very much human who hurts and bleeds, and could one day be lost to him forever.  

In Sickness and In Health by @thing-you-do-with-that-thing   Lisa and Dean invite Cas into their home after he gets sick, leading to much more, even when Cas worries that he isn’t good for them.

SERIES

Paint and Ink by @artsyunderstudy (on AO3)   Castiel needs a model for his new sculpture project, and Dean Winchester sounds perfect for the job.

Racing (And Other Reasons To Sweat) by @carrieosity (on AO3)   Competition and racing are nothing new to Castiel and Jimmy Novak. Since leaving behind college athletics and settling down into jobs and everyday life, though, it’s gotten harder to scratch that competitive itch. Now Jimmy’s swimming skills and Cas’s running abilities have earned unexpected attention, and they’ve been pressured into creating a triathlon relay team. All they need is a cyclist who can keep up. Dean is not an “athlete.” He’s not about to back down from a challenge, though, so he’ll do whatever he has to do, as far outside his comfort zone as it may take him. Finding fast new best friends in the Novak twins should make that stretch easier for him, but instead, as he can’t help falling in love with not one, but both twins, things just keep getting a whole lot more complicated.

Blast Into the Past by MonPetitTresor (on AO3)   The Cage was never meant to hold a human. It was meant for one archangel, not two, and definitely not a human soul. Little by little Sam’s soul was being destroyed by the torture the Cage inflicted on it. Lucifer and Michael joined together and, with their combined grace, pieced together Sam Winchester’s soul and sent him out of the Cage and into the past in the hopes that he can stop this whole thing before it even starts. Only, when Sam lands, things don’t quite go so well. He’s not all that sure that this isn’t another torture the Cage has provided for him. He’s in the past, right after Dean got out of Hell, and he’s nowhere near the same man he was before. He can barely remember how to function as a human. It’s going to take his family and a little help from a surprised archangel for Sam to start to recover. He doesn’t have much time, though, because the apocalypse is still coming and the angels are fighting to get Lucifer free. Can one broken man manage to change the past? Or are they doomed to repeat their same mistakes over and over again?

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Hi, I was wondering if I could get an emergency request? Two days ago my house burnt down and I lost two bearded dragons, my mouse colony and a tank of guppies, along with almost everything I own, it’s been quite stressful on me as the only reason I survived was because I coughed awake because of smoke inhalation, if I’d had my door closed however I’d be dead right now. Could I please get Swerve, Rung and Megatron comforting a S/O after a similar incident? Sorry to bother you!

*I am so sorry that this happened to you. I can’t even begin to imagine how scared you must have been and how it affected you afterwards. I hope you sustained no permanent injury and that you will recover from any sort of trauma you might have sustained. I am sorry about your animals and I am sorry that I could not respond to this sooner since I was on vacation. I hope you have a wonderful day.”

Swerve: The moment Swerve heard of the fire he abandoned the bar, leaving it in Ten’s care, and rushed towards wherever you were kept. His spark raced as he ran faster than he had ever before and he practically ran into the door when it didn’t open fast enough. And then he saw you. Looking a bit shocked but alive. Swerve doesn’t even realizes he’s shouted your name until you turn around and look him in the optics and immediately tears start gathering up in your eyes. Before you could start crying however Swerve is in front of you, arms open wide and ready to embrace you.

You tell him what happened and how your house is gone along with everything in it, sentimental things and pets alike. For once Swerve is quiet as he listens to you pour your heart out and tell him everything. When you tell him how close you were to not making it he squeezes your hand, a bit harder than he meant to, cause he can’t stand even the thought of losing you. He cries a bit himself, he can’t help it, when you cry he cries. What can he say, he’s an emotional bot. Swerve does his best to comfort you and tells you over and over again how sorry he is for everything that happened. Immediately offers to let you stay in his habsuite for as long as you need to (and if you want you can permanently move in, he quietly adds).

He closes the bar for a while, telling everyone he’s taking a break for “personal reasons”. So what if some bots whine and complain? Your well being is much more important than what they do on their free time. Swerve knows that you lost your pets in the fire and that you probably miss them a lot so he decides to try and get you some new ones. He starts looking on the next planet the ship stops on and he won’t stop until he’s found the best pet ever. Perhaps it will even help you move on from what happened?

Rung: He was on a break and assembling yet another model ship when suddenly his comm sparked to life. Ultra Magnus voice greeted him but before Rung could even ask if he needed something Magnus told him what had happened and that you needed him. Rung immediately rushed out of his office, leaving his half-finished model ship behind. He reaches you in a matter of minutes, slightly out of breath from running so fast. He waits a couple of seconds before entering the room, wanting to appear calm and reliable. But when he sees you, oh, he almost loses it. You look so scared and confused, eyes wide and body slightly trembling.

He holds you close as he comforts you, slightly rocking you back and forth to calm you down. As you tell him everything he continues to rub your back, only stopping for a second when you mention how you would have died if you had your door closed. “Oh, oh dear…” His vocalizer can’t formulate the words he wants to say, the ones he knows he should say, that would bring you the most comfort. Because what if something had happened to you? It… hurts just thinking about it. But Rung collects himself and resumes comforting you. Right now you need him and he won’t abandon you. Not now, not ever.

You live in his habsuite for the time being, he’s prepared everything you need and makes sure you are comfortable. He knows that it’s not the same as your home but he hopes that it will suffice for now. Rung is there for you if you want to talk and he provides you constant comfort, be it vocally or by more subtle things like holding your hand or hugging you. He encourages you to try and get a new pet since he believes it will help with your healing. He won’t force you to get one though, if you feel you’re not ready to move on yet. Rung just wants you to be happy and feel safe, that’s all.

Megatron: Everyone parts when he comes running down the hallways, his steps shaking the floor. There’s an unfamiliar expression on his face but it looks like… fear? Worry? Whatever it was it made all the bots step out of his way immediately. They could sense that this is not the time to bother the ex-warlord. Not that Megatron noticed them, no, all he could think about was you and the message he had just received. Not many things scared Megatron but the thought of you getting hurt is one of them. He practically rammed through the doors when he arrived, only stopping in the last second because he was afraid of scaring you. So he opened the door, slowly.

Your little face was the first thing he saw when he opened it. Tears were falling down your cheeks and it was evident you had cried for a while, eyes redshot and glossy. You notice him and look him in the optics and you try to smile. It only makes his spark break more for you. Carefully Megatron picks you up and embraces you before asking you what happened. You tell him everything. The fire, how it burned down your house and killed all you animals and how close it was that you nearly did as well. This makes Megatron’s spark pulse in fear. What if he had lost you? He wouldn’t have been able to do a single thing to help you.

Megatron is extra protective of you after this. He follows you like a duckling, a giant, metal duckling, and treats you like you’re made out of glass. You have to remind him that you are a bit sturdier than that or else he might just wrap you up in bubble wrap. The reason he’s so careful is because that he was suddenly reminded how frail you are compared to cybertronians and it hurts just thinking about losing you. Megatron is not the best when it comes to comforting other people but he does his best for you. He holds you close, tell you how he will never let anything like that happen to you again and that you can stay with him for as long as you need to. He will do anything for you.

[vithebean]

Light the ovens

Fanfic The Arcana (no specific character)

trigger warning: bodies, deaths, deaths of children, smells.

Light the ovens

You looked out of the window, watching the messenger boy run off to Doctor Devorak just as you had told him. You had written a letter, a shocking one, but then again very predictable. You found out this morning, the cough. the itch. They were the very first symptoms. You had been staring at yourself in the mirror, your heart aching like it had been pierced by an arrow. Having wiped off the tears on your face, you sighed so deeply it hurt. You had no other choice than accept it. You. had. the. plague.. You were going to die. That’s exactly what you had written into your letter. But with an extra addition. You had written that you were going to the Lazaret. You were infected already. the worst thing that could happen is that you’d have to suffer longer than the others.

You packed your stuff. Not much. You wouldn’t be needing it anyway. Just before you walked out the door you looked behind you. A wave of pain and sadness washed over you so bad it made your skin crawl. But you couldn’t stay either. You had promised him. You had promised Asra you’d stay and wait for him to return. But you couldn’t. You had written a letter for him too, and left it on the kitchen table. Then you stepped out of the house, not even turning around for it anymore. Headed to the docks you noticed it getting fuller, more crowded. Nervous? No. It was something different. Something in between fear and that is what you felt. You knew. These people weren’t out for a market or a party. They were standing in line for the boats. A man dressed in white, covered from head to toe and keeping distance from the ill, was shouting “All able bodied sufferers, to the left, the rest stays on the right”. Sufferers? You had thought. What a strange thing to say. Nonetheless you moved over to row on the left.

This row moved faster, and dread kneaded in your stomach. Why were there two rows? Do we have to carry the sick? you wondered to yourself before it finally being your turn. The man in white gave you a mean eye. “you don’t look sick” he had snapped at you. You had glared at him, wanting to snap back at him. But before you could you were shoved on board by a broad man behind you. You had recognised this man. He was the baker's brother. You felt bad for him and for the baker. Why were it all the good people that suffered the hardest?

Mere minutes later the boat started to move and you looked over the side, watching the black smoke of the Lazaret leaving its chimneys. Now it was fear you were feeling. The closer you got, the worse it became. But you couldn’t turn back anymore. You had made your choice.

The shores were pitchblack. So was the sky, and oh the smell. The smell of ashes and death was barely bearable as you set foot on the Island of death. A man greeted you and the group you came with. Then he started to give out ‘chores’. It confused your mind at first, but then you understood.. Someone had to keep everything going, and it would’ve been cruel to give healthy people that job. You had raised your hand, and proclaimed that you were in fact a doctor's apprentice. The man chuckled. You felt laughed at. What was so funny about that? You could help. “There’s no use for doctors on the Lazeret. Everyone that enters, dies”. He had told you, which caused your breath to get stuck in your throat, and a powerless feeling hit you hard in the chest when he assigned you to...oven duty. You wanted to protest but the words didn’t came, so you just nodded and hoped for the best.

You had to start immediately. The last 2 that worked at the crematorium had died the past night, and the bodies had started to pile up. You were escorted to the crematorium, the foul smell of rotting corpses and burned hair filled up your nose which made you feel sick.

You put your stuff in a corner and had looked at the large ovens as you listened to the instructions. Adults went per two and children went by four. That’s how you burned the most bodies with minimal effort, you were told. The knowledge made you shiver, and the despair on your face was too easy to read. Then you were left alone. The ovens were already burning, all you had to do was pull a lever to ashen the corpses.

At first you had cried and cried as you and another lifted the dead into the ovens, and you had a hard time pulling the lever. But over the course of days, it became..normal. Your heart still ached, and you were still sad, but you didn’t show. Not even when you laid someone in the oven, you had said hello to the day before. It was worse with the little ones. The youngest you had seen come through here was a mere infant. That hit you hard, and caused you to collapse on your knees, but you had to go on. While you operated the ovens, you felt yourself get sicker and sicker, and not because of the smells you had gotten used to, or the horrid sights. Your eyes had turned the signature red, your skin was paler than ever, and the lever got heavier by the day as you were losing your strength.

By day 11 you were taken away from oven duty, and placed with those who were going to die soon. Your hair had lost its shine, your eyes redshot, and without their usual glimmer. Staring up the ceiling you felt your breathing become more labored. This was it. This was the end. Dying, alone, scared and sad, wishing for someone’s hand to hold, but there was no one. Tears streamed down your face as you took hold of your necklace, a piece Asra had gifted you. You held it so tight, so afraid it would disappear from your fingers, but it was the last bit you had left of home. After a while your sniffling quieted down, your eyes became heavy. You closed them. The world becoming heavy around you, forcing your hands to let go of your last good memory. One last breath. Then it was dark.

End

[thedreadkittenrises]

Why don’t men understand that if it’s late, and you and I are the only ones in an area, I’m going to actively avoid you. I was driving in my parking garage after working night shift. This guy vaguely waves at me as I’m halfway up the next ramp. I drive up two levels and park. He follows me and gets to me right as I’m getting out of my car. I keep my head down he starts yelling at me “why aren’t you helping me?!” From like 15 feet away. And I can see his eyes are redshot and glazed over and can smell the alcohol coming off of him. He’s also a good 6 inches taller than my 5’9” self. I tell him I’m not talking to strangers so he follows me into the stairwell and continues to just say he needs help and has me open up the door to the apartment complex. I end up doing it, but now I’m shaking the entire way back to my apartment, taking the long way, and constantly looking around corners hoping he hasn’t decided he wants to come back and yell at me some more.

This shit is scary if you know you can’t get out and are trapped. I can’t know if you’re a dangerous person to me, and so I’m going to act like you are and avoid you at all costs. And don’t fucking yell at me if you truly need help. Tell me from a good distance that you need help calmly. That’s the only way I’m not going to feel threatened.

[taechaos]

Idea tae really don't know how to take things seriously lol, but gotta admit the end was hella hot, Idk why but something in Tae telling you to sleep so he could fuck you is way too nwido3bdo3nek. Also when I imagined what could happend after, I had this idea of the OC trying to sleep but couldn't because of the nerves of what was going to happend, so they both know she was awake but he still fuck her as if she was and she just act as if she was during it, like a improve/telepathic role play lol.

I have way too much free time

no one asked but im going to write it anyway 💀if anyone needs a backstory

Back then, you merely speculated what happened at nighttime that left you all sore or drowsy in the morning. You could never guess what Taehyung would do or when he would do it, but now that you have closure, now that you know when Taehyung is going to do what he's been doing for some time now with a hiatus in between, you're not having trouble sleeping. You're having trouble staying awake.

It's approaching 5 AM and your dumbified brain can't justify the reason as to why you turn away the opportunity to catch up on so much lost rest when you finally can. Maybe after feeling insecure for so long, you want to feel wanted. Maybe you just miss Taehyung's touch.

Whatever it is, you don't listen to your body and keep your redshot eyes open that droop regardless of your anticipation.

Did he fall asleep?

The sheets shift under your bodies when Taehyung takes his arms off of you to lie on his back. There's more shuffling and you're hit with the realization that he's also been waiting. He must have assumed you fell asleep after not moving for so long like you tend to do when you're restless. It makes your heart pang with anxiety, and it gradually falls out of rhythm when you hear him presumably sliding down his briefs. You're going on mere assumptions from the noise, and hearing him spit in his hand supports your mental image.

You hear him inhale and imagine this is the part where he wraps his hand around himself, slowly stroking his length to prepare for what he would do to you, you who is still awake—why?

A deep hum resounds in the room and your toes curl at the sound. You can hear his strokes, how his fist picks up the pace and hits against his pelvis.

You almost shudder when you feel a hand sliding to your hip, down to the waistline where he gently tugs to pull your pajamas down to your calves. You realize a second later that it's past your thighs with your underwear. How do you not wake up from this every time it happens?

He pulls your leg on top of his to give himself access of your pussy, and a gasp is stuck in your throat when two fingers graze your folds. His erection is pressing against your butt and you can't suppress the shiver that racks your body, but this must have happened before since Taehyung doesn't cease his movements.

But then he pauses. You purse your lips into a hard line as to not make any noise when he slides a finger up and down your labia, slick with your arousal. Your head unintentionally tilts, very slightly.

That's not what makes him sharply exhale from his nose in amusement. It's the fact that you're aroused in your sleep—supposedly. There's nothing unusual about your squirming but the fact that you're wet is a little... suspicious.

Typically, he'd have to use his spit to ease himself into your entrance, but since you're practically dripping on his fingers, he skips that step. Just to mess with you a little bit though, he begins to circle your clit to see if you'd still keep up the act. You nails latch onto your pillow to take out your pleasure on something—anything. Your knee bends ever so slightly, and he takes a subtle peek to test his suspicion.

The sight under him makes his knowing smile falter instantly and cock throb. Your jaw hangs with your eyes rolled back to your skull, lashes fluttering from the action. But still no sound.

He'd expect you to at least grind on him, considering the torturously slow speed of his fingers on your sensitive nub, but you're so determined to fool him.

Well, two can play that game.

Routine requires him to lube you up while also being mindful of your unconscious state, but since you're very awake and alert, he's allowed to switch things up. He slams your hips against his, and your breath hitches before he pokes your entrance with the tip of his cock. Slow and carefully, he inserts the head, earning him a blissful sigh. He bites his lip and glares at the back of your head. He was right in calling you stupid earlier; what's the point of being quiet when you're still making sounds? Why not just give him the full experience instead?

But you'd be embarrassed, of course, not wanting him to know of your wanton, mutual desire for him. It's frustrating... but fine. He kept it a secret at first too; he'll just have to empathize for now.

Except empathy was never his strongest suit, and translates to forcing you to face the truth by shoving the rest of his length inside you in one go. You squeak at the unexpected motion and stretch, but hope the resonant rumble reverberating in his chest drowns it out. The idea is a reach, but you convince yourself that's the case with rose tinted cheeks. To think this used to happen every night...

He bottoms out for a few seconds, gaping at you with an intimidating stare that you can't see before dragging his cock out halfway and thrusting in again, stuck in this spooning position where your legs are tangled. He hums a deep moan when he sets a rough pace, in harmony with your hips that grind down on him.

A breathless chuckle escapes him when he notices; as if your quiet gasps weren't enough, now you're meeting his thrusts. He can't keep up this pretend game any longer.

Your hair is pulled back from your shoulder to your back, baring your neck that he bites on. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to make you shriek mixed with a moan.

"Oh sorry, did I wake you, princess?" He doesn't bother sounding apologetic and instead rams into you harder after stilling your hips.

"Yes," you whine, and he doesn't know whether you're answering the question or expresssing your pleasure.

Just like he'd hoped, your moans finally mix together and the feeling of your tight, clenching walls along with your moans drives him animalistic, no longer caring for his victory in that stupid game; only you and your ruts.

"Harder," you demand weakly, body slowly going limp from your lack of energy. The sleepiness is catching up to you once more, but your release is so close.

Your state doesn't go missed, and since you're not in a position to protest against his wishes, he takes this opportunity to sit up and lift your ass, only taking a second to return to his previous tempo.

The different angle emits louder moans from you, though still limp, and he's practically in heaven when he starts kneading your ass. These are all of his desires happening at once in full speed.

His rapid thrusts are turning sloppy, sweat beginning to cummulate on his chest and forehead when he commands, "Touch yourself."

You oblige with a whine, and it becomes all too much for him to resist; he slams into you slowly, but with fervour. It's almost too intense for him to hold back any longer. "Good girl," he grunts with a wince. He's reluctant when he pulls out to pump himself while watching you masturbate, ass still high in the air. He needs to get you some contraceptives as soon as possible; cumming like this is torture.

He's staring at your erotic face when he groans, his release landing on your back and butt in white strings before you follow suit. He collapses on his stomach next to you while your body spasms and twitches, taking a minute to recover from your orgasm. He rubs your back, occasionally scratching at your back as you stop kneeling on the mattress.

"You gonna pretend to sleep tomorrow too?" he teases with a dazed grin.

"Shut up," you grumble as you get into a comfortable position, snuggling into his chest with a pout.

The action reminds him of your old self. You used to be affectionate with him, always wishing to spend time with him before these taboo feelings got in the middle of your relationship. He was your role model, but he doesn't care about losing the imagine you had of him. But it endears him to see a glimpse of your neediness again, warms his heart to be like this with you again.

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and enjoys this moment a little longer before dimming his eyes.

[remmyswritings]

not a cliche// charlie weasley x reader series

Ok! I’m genuinely really excited for this series and have like no self control when it comes to my writing so I figured I’d share part 2!!

I figured I’d share the prompt post where @venomoustentacvla​ and I basically wrote out the whole outline for this: so HERE IT IS

part 1: the waiter in shining armor

part 2: damsel in distress

Ever since the night that Charlie had saved you from that horrible date, you made a habit of going to the restaurant and spending even just a little bit of time with him. You couldn’t really tell if it was his caring demeanor, or just how open he was, but being around Charlie always made you feel safe. Every time you showed up, he would make sure to seat you in one of the comfiest booths in the space and your favorite drink to go with it and at some point, he would stop by and give you a big hug and talk about your days. By this point, everyone (including Charlie’s boss) knew who you were and they all found themselves looking for when you would show up with your big smile and sweet hugs. 

Only today when you walked in, hours before Charlie’s shift was meant to start, and looking as if you had been run over by a truck, everyone that worked there knew that something was up. The hostess saw you first so even though she had a group of 6 waiting to be seated, she touched you lightly on the arm and led you to the booth that had unofficially become yours. One of the waitresses rushed over to her boss and told him what she had seen, him calling Charlie the second she finished, while another went and got you some water to drink. 

It took a while, but when Charlie walked inside all of his co-workers finally released their breaths knowing that he would be able to help you feel better.

“Hey sweetheart,” a voice called out in front you. You recognized it as Charlie’s although it was softer than usual. 

“Hi Charlie,” you croaked out. Your voice breaking from all the crying you had done earlier.

You moved over slightly so that he could join you, letting him wrap you up in his arms as you yearned for his comfort.

“Sweetheart,” Charlie shifted slightly so that he could look down at you, “what’s going on?”

You shook your head as you wrapped your hands around his chest, “I just-”

“Take your time,” his hand ran through your hair, him doing just what he would see his mother do with his siblings when they were younger.

He felt your breathing slow done and the hold you had on his shirt lightened slightly, which he took as a sign that you had started to calm down. You pulled away slightly, giving him a chance to finally see your face. Your eyes were redshot, your cheeks tear-stained, and your nose bright red from all your crying, yet the look you gave him filled him with a sense of calm. 

“Thank you Charlie,” while your smile wasn’t as bright as always it was still better than when you had first arrived. “I just- today has just been a horrible day. But being here with you has made it better.”

He just nodded his head and looked up to see that the restaurant was being closed for a couple hours, “Hey have you had anything to eat since you got here?”

“No,” you shook your head, “why?”

Charlie stood up and held his hand out to you just as he did the night you met, “Come on, I want you to try something.”

Charlie took you to the kitchen again only this time it was rather full. He led you over to a man who looked like he was one of the top cooks. 

“Charlie,” the man called out, “what are you doing here? Doesn’t your shift start later?”

Charlie nodded and then motioned over to you, “This is my friend Y/N. Dora called me when she showed up looking for me. She hasn’t had any food yet so I figured she should try that new special you're experimenting with.”

“Ya, I don’t see why not. I could use a new set of taste buds,” the man turned towards you. “I’m Felix, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you shook his hand. 

Next thing you knew, you were sitting on the kitchen stool, leaning over a new dish that looked rather delicious. Seeing everyone interacting with one another distracted you so you missed everything that Felix said about the dish but you figured you’d try it either way. The second the food hit your mouth, you were mind-blown. If Charlie’s mac and cheese made you want to moan from how delicious it was, this made you feel something even stronger. 

“I like her,” Felix pointed towards you while he spoke to Charlie, “You should keep her.”

Charlie started to laugh when he saw your face and it only grew stronger after Felix’s comment. Something about your reactions always made him smile and there was something about Charlie’s smile that just made you want to smile back. It wasn’t long until your frustrations and sadness slipped away, only to be replaced by joy and laughter. 

The one thought running through your head, Charlie really gets me.

--

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