#anyway. you guys wouldn’t believe what triggered this

[szczylpierdolony]

wishing i never tried to get an autism diagnosis

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 2

in which fem!reader is feeling insecure about how inexperienced she is around spencer's friends and seeks his expertise to amend the problem

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, oral f receiving, (MUNCH!SPENCE RETURNS), fingering, (very) insecure reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, nipple stuff, kinda sorta implied age gap, god i'm probably forgetting things pls lmk if i missed something important a/n: i've been laboring at this bad boy every day for so long i had to immediately post once it was completed lol. there will be a part three ... maybe i already started it ..... anyway i love u guys and i hope this is a satisfactory part two!! PLS lmk if you liked it!! hearing from u makes my day :')

When Spencer dropped you off at Penelope’s apartment for your first girl’s night—the hostess had promised you, JJ, and Emily lots of gossip sans 'icky men'—you had been ecstatic. You wouldn’t stop rambling to him about how excited you were. 

When he picks you up two and a half hours later, he can hardly get a word out of you. 

It’s not his fault, of course—well, not really, anyway. It’s just that all the girls had wanted to talk about was sex. A topic on which you held very little expertise and had essentially nothing to contribute. Out of the four, you were the only non-FBI agent, the youngest, and undoubtedly the least experienced. It was like high school all over again, except you actually desperately wanted to impress Spencer’s friends. All in all, you weaseled your way out of sharing without giving away that you were still very much a virgin. Sure, you could have said ‘we did hand stuff two weeks ago’, but you had a feeling these women wouldn’t consider that very impressive. 

But you can’t easily relay that information to Spencer—even when he immediately picks up on your sullen mood. He asks you what’s wrong as you make your way down the echoey staircase, but you hold back, muttering something along the lines of we’ll talk about it later. 

Later doesn’t come on the sidewalk outside. It doesn’t come in the car, or at any point during the twenty minute drive, but you feel it rapidly approaching as you climb the stairs to Spencer’s apartment. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, doesn’t speak as you kick off your shoes and wander aimlessly into the living room.

“Did you eat?” He finally asks, hanging his keys on a hook by the door and glancing over to where you linger in the center of the room like a ghost. 

“Not hungry.”

You both know that wasn’t the question, but he lets it go. 

“Alright... well, I was thinking—“

“Why haven’t we had sex?”

The question flies from your mouth before you can stop it. It tastes like metal and you wish you could take it back as you stand there, cheeks hot and awaiting a reply. It seems you’ve thoroughly astonished Spencer as he gapes at you like a fish out of water for several silent moments, eventually opting to shove his hands in his pockets and shake his head at the wall as he processes the question. 

“I… I don’t know. We just haven’t. Does that bother you?”

Suddenly your whole body feels intolerably warm. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. Of course it bothers you. 

“Do you just not want to? You aren’t attracted to me like that?”

God, you despise how fragile your voice sounds—how much you obviously care, how insecure you clearly are. Spencer picks up on it, despite your most fervent wishing that he wouldn’t, and approaches, stopping a few feet away. You stare at the span of oriental design on the floor between your feet. 

“That’s not at all what I said, angel. I wish you wouldn’t put words in my mouth.”

“Well, then… say something else,” you plead quietly, childishly, still unable to meet his eyes. Prove me wrong. 

He sighs, which does not bode well for you. You wonder if you accidentally triggered the early demise of your relationship and christ do you wish you could rewind. When he steps closer, when his hands find your arms, you’re not sure where to look. But the low, sweet tone of his voice entices you to finally meet his gaze, charmed like a snake as his eyes dart between yours. 

“You know that’s not how I feel.”

You shake your head earnestly, looking up at him with wide eyes as he slowly rubs your arms. 

“No. No, I don’t know that.”

Spencer frowns, glancing at your lips as he speaks. It’s impossible to not do the same when he’s standing so close. 

“But I’ve told you. I don’t understand how you couldn’t know how far from the truth that is.”

You think back to two weeks ago—the first and only time he’d ever done anything more than kiss you. A different kind of flush replaces the shameful one in your cheeks as you try to make your case and not get distracted by the memories of his hands all over you.

“So why won’t you prove it?”

It’d been intended to come out cool, but instead you sound a little desperate, a little out of breath as you realize you and Spencer somehow ended up so close to each other you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. 

“Is that what you need from me? More proof?”

He speaks so lowly, his fingers press into the flesh of your arms portentously, and you think maybe you’ve poked the bear one too many times. But you won’t back down now—not when you think you might actually get what you want. 

So you look up at him and nod, throat too dry to speak. His eyes are deceptively soft, but you don’t miss the big bad something lurking just beneath the surface of the placid hazel. 

“And how do you think I should prove it?”

“I told you what I want,” you whisper, speaking above your pounding heart. 

“Not tonight, honey. Choose something else.”

“Well—that’s not fair,” you stammer, “the whole point is for you to want to have sex with me.”

Spencer smiles a little, tucking hair behind your ear. “I do want that. I promise you I do. But there are other things I want us to do first.”

“Then I want to do that, too! I just—I don’t know what I’m doing, and you do, and I’m already out on a limb by asking for this much. I know this is what I want but I need you to take the lead here. I trust you, Spencer.” You top off the monologue with an imploring gaze—hoping it delivers even a fraction of the impact that his puppy-dog eyes always have on you. 

He seems to study every square inch of your face as you wait in suspense for him to say something. At long last, his lips part—to no avail for several more seconds as he regards you. 

When the words finally do come, they’re an immense relief of pressure. 

“You’re going to promise me that you’ll communicate honestly. That means telling me if we need to slow down or stop, or if you don’t like something—”

“I promise,” you say, perhaps over-eagerly, offering him your extended little finger. 

An incredulous smile narrows his eyes. 

“Is this a pinky-promise?”

“It is.” You wiggle the finger in emphasis, and he shakes his head, smiling wider as you link pinkies. 

“I left you with Garcia for far too long.”

You shush him, disentangling your hands to cup his jaw and press your lips to his. It’s sweet and smiley until it isn’t—until everything slows down like sticky molasses and his hand is ghosting over your cheek, your neck, the curve of your waist, finally substantiating itself on your hip—the other encouraging you to tilt your head back as he deepens the kiss and you feel yourself melting under the heat of his touch. 

The pressure of his body against yours builds until you’re forced to take a step back, and then another, and another. Without question you allow yourself to be herded toward the bedroom, walked slowly backward as he keeps kissing you and blindly trusting he’ll make sure you don’t run in to anything. The bedroom door clicks shut behind him, and it is in all practicality a pointless gesture—but you find it incredibly comforting nonetheless.  

It’s too warm beneath your sweater and his hands are cool as they slip under the hem, sliding against the curve of your hip. Spencer’s never seen you without a shirt, you realize, as he pulls away from the kiss by only centimeters.  

“Off?” he mutters, thumbing at the knit fabric. And while you’re far from confident, you’ve certainly been making progress in this area. You help him tug it over your head without a word, noting a distinct and surprising lack of terror within yourself as you watch for his reaction to you. Hands glide slowly up your waist and you find yourself enchanted by the slight furrow of his brow, the parting of his lips. He traces down the lacy edge of your bra, skimming sensitive skin as he goes. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. “You’re… so pretty.”

It seems you’ve rendered him uncharacteristically prosaic. The reaction might be underwhelming if it were anyone else—but Spencer Reid is a man who probably knows every synonym for pretty in the English language. Looking at you, he can’t think of a single one. In an odd way, it’s the highest compliment he could pay you. Your cheeks heat and your stomach flips as he drags a knuckle up the center of the cup, and you can feel it through the layers of lace and fabric. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours and continuing to run his fingers over the sensitive spot. “Do you know how pretty you are?”

This is one argument you will not be winning—one he’ll keep bringing up at the most inopportune times until he gets his way. 

“Spencer…”

“Don’t Spencer me. I’m asking you a question.”

The words don’t seem nearly as harsh as they really are when they’re delivered velvet-soft, with his lips and hands on you—when he’s so deftly popping the button on your jeans and dragging the zipper down with all the quickness of a slight-of-hand. It makes it hard to focus, even harder to speak. 

“We have… we have differing views on this matter.”

Generous handfuls of your hips and ass are taken as he helps you tug down your jeans before you kick them off, now left just in your underwear. 

“I thought I argued my point fairly well last time you were here. You didn’t learn anything from that?”

“Mm… maybe you just need to remind me.”

“Oh, I think I have to,” he agrees through a smile you can only hear. Gentle fingers skim up your back and tap the clasp of your bra. “How about this? Can we take this off?”

Any confidence from earlier crumbles and you loose a nervous hum—which is not the enthusiastic yes you’re sure Spencer will be seeking all evening. He pulls away, features etched with the beginnings of concern and a searching gaze. Asking would be unnecessary; the words simply come tumbling out of you. 

“What if you don’t like how I look?”

Spencer doesn’t even blink.

“That’s not going to happen.”

How you wish you could have the same assuredness in yourself that he seems to. 

“But what if… what if you’ve been with other girls who are more, like—I don’t know, just—better? Prettier?”

“Honey, you’re—” a sigh, a pause as he searches for the words—his eyes dart up and down your form, assessing, and when he looks back up at you, they’ve cleared and softened. He pulls you a little closer, rubbing circles into your back with his thumb. “I’m not thinking about anyone else right now. I’m not interested in anyone else right now. I already think you’re perfect, and I’m going to keep thinking that regardless of how you look. When I look at you, I’m not looking for things to critique. Do you understand me?”

As far as sentiments go, it’s a nice one. But the pressure of being seen still feels like an impossible burden. You whine, leaning your head against Spencer’s chest. He accepts your weight and runs his hand over your back as you look up at him. 

“But what if I’m hideously deformed?”

His eyebrows raise. 

“You’re not.”

“But what if I am?”

“Okay. It seems like you don’t feel ready yet, which is completely fine, we just won’t—”

“No!” you protest. “I am ready. I am. But… you have to promise to be nice to me no matter what. Or break up with me if you don’t like what you see so I don't have to wonder.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he says, kissing you, “and the only thing I’m willing to promise is that I’ll think you’re perfect. Me being nice will come as a natural byproduct of that which is very different than being nice by artifice. Take it or leave it.”

A moment of hesitance—but it’s short-lived. This is more important than your insecurities. Spencer is more important. 

“Take it,” you mumble against his lips. His fingers trace up the smooth skin of your back, all the way to the fabric and metal hooks on your bra. 

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have thought Spencer’s genius would manifest in being really good at undoing the clasp of a bra, but you can truly say you’re impressed by the ease with which he does it. It falls to the floor, leaving you completely shirtless for the first time in front of him. 

“Well?” you murmur, arms crossed defensively underneath your chest, because you understand overtop would sort of ruin the whole thing. “What’s the verdict?”

“You,” Spencer manages after a moment—you literally watch him memorizing every square inch of your body— “are ridiculously beautiful.”

The way his voice gets quieter makes your stomach flip. It sounds genuine. Too genuine to be faked. 

“So… no breakup?”

It seems that the more vulnerable you feel, the less likely you are to take a compliment. Spencer, who is always seeking patterns, probably recognizes this one, and doesn’t push you so hard this time. After a silent moment, he sighs and cradles your face in his hands. 

“You’re gorgeous. I hate how incapable you are of seeing that. We’re going to talk about this.”

“Yeah, but not right now, right?” you murmur, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Not right now,” he agrees. 

His lips are so soft and gentle against your own it feels like love, it feels like being talked down from the ledge of your own insanity. Somehow the way he strokes your hip feels more nurturing than sexual. It’s like he has sex and chaste affection on tap, able to turn them on and off at will. You’re happy to drown in either. Ideally, both.

After a while, his hands begin roaming farther, become bolder in their excursions over your flesh. Up, down, over your waist and ribs. Clearly Spencer had been trying to ease you into it, but you still can’t hide your sharp inhalation when his thumbs graze the sensitive skin of your breasts. He pulls his lips from yours, hands splayed over your sides. 

“Sit down.”

It’s much too gentle to be a command, but you frown. 

“Without you?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, lightly squeezing your waist. “Just sit. Utilize patience.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with an atypical reticence—you’re just a little too nervous for a snippy comeback. Spencer picks up on this, features softening sympathetically as he undoes his tie with nimble fingers. It lands somewhere on the bed and he leans over you, resting his weight on his fists and offering you a quick kiss. His voice is soft and designed to soothe as he speaks, mere inches away from your face, and so quiet it could only be heard at this range. 

“Are you nervous?” Cloth from the duvet pinches between your fingers. For a moment you don’t reply, dropping your head to watch when Spencer runs his hand over your thigh. “It’s okay if you’re feeling anxious, baby. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

You expel a frustrated huff. 

“I want to. Just because I’m nervous doesn’t mean I don’t want this. I can handle a little bit of anxiety.”

He hums, dropping to a crouch and inserting himself directly in your line of sight. 

“I know you can. But you don’t always have to push yourself so hard.”

“I’m fine pushing myself a little. I pinky-promised I would tell you if I wanted to stop, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget a pinky-promise?” he smiles. 

How could you forget anything, you think, becoming flushed and silently insolent at his dulcet teasing. 

“Please, do something.” It’s a whisper, brushing his lips as you lean down until you’re nose to nose. His hands are on the back of your legs. 

“I’m working on it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.”

“You’re smart, angel. Tell me why I've got you naked on my bed and I’m kneeling in front of you. Where could I possibly be taking this?”

Oh, you have a pretty strong inkling—but you’re scared to voice it and be wrong. Instead of risking it you shake your head slowly, shyly. What you’re not expecting is for Spencer to duck his head down, slide his hands up the side of your thighs and press kisses to the delicate skin there. It feels good—better than you’d have thought. 

“You don’t know?” he asks, looking up at you through burnished gold-rimmed pupils. “No guesses?”

“No guesses,” you agree breathlessly, hotter than you were when you had your clothes on and all the energy in your body condensed into one point between your legs. Spencer hums like he’s considering your answer, smoothing his thumbs over the soft skin of your thighs so gently it feels like burning. 

“I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful. Lie back, sweetheart.”

You do as you’re told, scooting up on the mattress and falling back on your elbows. Spencer wastes no time in climbing over you, leaving you in much the same position as the last time you’d been in his bed. The sheets feel cool against your bare skin, but he is exceptionally warm and solid over you. 

“I’m being honest.” Lie. “I don’t know what you’re going to do.”

Lips find the most sensitive spot of your neck, dancing over it torturously. The front of his shirt brushes your chest. Your thighs clamp together. 

“I don't like being lied to. Just say it, baby. I know you know.”

“Spencer,” you whine, fists bunching the excess fabric around his waist. Warm breath condensates on the skin of your neck as he chuckles. 

“You don’t like being teased, huh?”

“Please, Spence,” you whisper. You notice the pattern of his breathing pause momentarily before it all comes rushing out at once—and you catalogue that particular plea for later usage. 

“I can’t say no when you ask me like that.”

You push your fingers into his soft hair. 

“I know.”

It was a lucky guess. 

He’s still for a moment, relishing the feeling of your hands in his hair, before darting up to kiss you. 

“I’m going to use my mouth this time,” he murmurs against your lips. Though you knew that was what he intended, your heart stumbles in its perpetual march. “Is that okay?”

“What if I…”

You trail off. This is a very intimate situation which you’re not quite sure you have delicate enough language for. Or maybe you’re just stalling. Either way, Spencer is eternally patient with you. 

“You need to stop worrying so much, pretty girl. I’d love to do this for you. But it’s your call.”

“Love is a pretty strong word.”

“Sometimes I think not strong enough.”

The way he’s looking down at you so tenderly, brushing hair from your face, makes you think maybe he’s not just talking about how much he would love to go down on you. Regardless, it fortifies your trust in him. Spencer is the kindest person you know. He’s so clearly an enthusiastic giver. Why not allow him to give you this? 

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can—yeah.”

As usual, you’re impressively awkward, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, you think he not-so-secretly delights in being the one to fluster instead of the other way around. Rarely has he mentioned his past romantic and sexual exploits, but gathering bits and pieces, you assume he was a fairly late bloomer. He probably knows what it’s like to be nervous and so deeply unsure of yourself. 

“Do you remember what you promised me?” he whispers, pressing butterfly-light kisses to your jaw. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips traverse down your neck, teeth skimming over the delicate skin while your breath catches. 

“Mhm.”

“You’re not gonna break that promise, are you?”

His voice, soft and muffled by your skin, is the most exhilarating and disorienting high. Your entire body buzzes with anticipation, satisfied only where his lips soothe and his body presses against yours. It takes a moment for you to remember to reply. 

“No.”

Reward comes in the form of his thumb brushing over the peak of your breast at the same time as he murmurs, “good girl.”

Your stomach flips at the endearment—you squeak and arch into him slightly. Spencer’s hand slides down your ribs as he chuckles, lips pressed just above your collarbone. 

“You’ve never called me that before,” you shudder as he continues kissing over your neck. 

“It’s not appropriate in most conversational contexts. But I can tell you’ve always been good.”

“Really? How?”

Spencer pauses, pushing himself up to regard you with searching eyes. The places he’d kissed feel cold without him. 

“I just can. You’re thinking too much, baby. I need your focus on me.”

“It is on you,” you huff. 

You watch his expression shift minutely. He loves games. Of course he’d love playing with you. That knowledge is why you’re only partially surprised when his thumb catches on your nipple again. 

“Is it? You’re only thinking about how it feels when I touch you here?”

A stammering nod. 

He toys with the sensitive flesh only a second more, amusement lighting his eyes, before dragging his hand down, down, down until it’s between your legs. Fingers trail over your clothed core, skimming the most sensitive part of you while your breath hitches.  

“Tell me how it feels when I touch you here.”

“Really good,” you admit, a heavy exhale escaping parted lips as he pins you with his gaze. 

“Really good, right. I can make it feel even better. Do you want me to make it feel better?”

Your thighs drop fully open and he adds just a bit more pressure until you’re pushing against his hand in search of more friction. 

“Yes please.”

“Then no more questions. I need you to trust me.”

Your answer is a breathy, dreamy sigh—you’d do anything, say anything for him. 

“Okay.”

Spencer kisses you, absorbing your noises of protest as his hand ceases between your legs and settles on your hip. But you’re trusting him. No whiny complaining. No unnecessary questions. 

Things go much quicker once you’re not interrupting him every twenty seconds to say something. His lips reattach to your neck, retracing their path (albeit quicker) until he’s below your collarbone. You watch in rapt fascination, twisted brows and parted lips as he peppers kisses down over your breast before dragging his tongue over your nipple. A jolted little moan spills out because you hadn’t been prepared to hold one in. Waves of hair fall over Spencer’s face, obscuring him from your vision, but you don’t think to push it away—your body is too busy processing the sensation to be much use on any other front. He darts his tongue over the peaked flesh, eliciting more little open-mouthed exhalations of pleasure from you. Earlier you hadn’t really thought it necessary for your bra to come off—you had no idea this could actually feel so good. A moment later he begins toying with the other nipple and you gasp as a bolt of heat goes straight to your core. 

You curse, further words catching in your throat as he suddenly switches, mouthing at your other breast and letting the cold air chill the other until you have goosebumps. It feels a little like hypnosis—you’re unable to move or speak as his tongue laves over you. Soon he’s replacing his mouth with a thumb again, sucking a mark onto your tit just above your nipple. You whimper a little at the pleasant brutality of it, hoping as he releases that it won’t soon fade. Spencer swipes over the stinging skin and presses a tender kiss to it, almost like an apology—but you sincerely doubt he’s actually sorry. 

Then he resumes his descent, leaving soft kisses down between your breasts, over your ribcage and stomach—when he reaches your hips, he doesn’t pull off your underwear all at once. Rather, he slides the fabric down centimeter by centimeter, kissing the revealed skin like it’s precious. 

This time you don’t need to be told to lift your hips. He helps you slip the final piece of clothing down and off of your legs, flinging it somewhere blindly before getting comfortable between your thighs once more. Your heart pounds with arousal and anxiety as his arms wrap around your thighs and his hands rub up and down the tops of them slowly. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, loosening his hold on one leg to thumb at your folds. They glisten in the dim light of his bedroom as he gently reveals your clit. A soft whine escapes you when he nudges at the aching bud, slipping over it a few times and alleviating a bit of the pressure that’s been building. “Shh, baby. I know. I’m gonna take care of it. You’re being so good for me.”

Fuck. The way he talks to you makes your brain turn to mush—you’re utterly incapable of forming an intelligent thought. Spencer has rendered you a complete idiot, and you’re not upset about it in the slightest. 

He presses more gentle kisses to the creases between your thighs, just above your clit—everywhere except for where you need him most. Everything aches for him in the best way and at least you’re too turned on to be very insecure anymore. All you want is relief. But you’re trusting him. 

Thankfully, he delivers. 

The tip of his tongue grazes so lightly over your clit that if you weren’t this worked up you may not have felt it at all. In your current state, however, the stimulation echoes through every atom of your being. Every muscle is tense, frozen in place—you can’t even breathe for a second. He does it again, a little flatter, with a little more pressure, and you whimper. It’s a delicate thing, almost pained and definitely overwhelmed as he gently begins working his tongue against you. Your head cranes up to watch, your jaw drops. Approximations of curse words try to form, but come out only as, “f-fu—oh,” so whiny and soft it doesn’t even sound like you. He hums sympathetically, but you suspect it morphs into a chuckle as you continue to gasp and mewl. 

There are times where you can hold back sounds of pleasure. When you’re by yourself, it’s typically not a problem. Two weeks ago when Spencer was knuckle deep in you for the first time, it had certainly been a challenge, and you’d pretty much given up. But this—this is something else entirely. It feels like religion. It feels like compulsion. Even if you had the slightest modicum of control over yourself, which you currently don’t, you wouldn’t want to keep quiet. You want him to know what he’s doing to you. 

So you let every cry, every whine and whimper drag from your lungs, unbidden and unshaped. You’re new at this, after all—every broad lick feels so good that you have no fucking idea what do to with your hands or how to stop rolling your hips or how to censor your sounds. 

“Spencer,” you keen in one of the moments you remember to breathe. He moans against you, taking you into his mouth and sucking lightly. Your hips buck. “Oh, my—fuck!”

The hand that’s still around your thigh rubs soothing lines up and down. The one that’s spreading you open pulls your folds apart a little bit further, granting him more access to your clit. He flicks his tongue and you almost come then and there, vision going gray for a split second. 

“Wait, wait, Spence—“ you squeak, writhing and trying not to squeeze your thighs together for fear of hurting him. He pulls back and looks up at you, lips shining with your slick and eyes glazed with lust. Fuckfuckfuck he looks so fucking good. “Please, just… slow down, or I’m gonna… or it’s gonna be over.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as he rubs circles into your inner thigh. 

“It’s over when you say it’s over. You don’t have a refractory period. We don’t have to stop at one.”

“Oh—you don’t—you don’t have to do that,” you stammer. 

“I know I don’t have to. But if you want me to, I want to. You taste so good, angel girl.”

Well, shit. 

He looks absurdly sexy between your legs like this. You have no idea how you got so lucky, but you don’t plan on taking it for granted. Your fingers tangle in his hair. 

“I don’t know if I can do more than one,” you admit shyly, slightly embarrassed by how little you know about yourself and in general compared to Spencer. Hazel eyes sparkle in the warm light. 

“How about we start with one and see how it feels?”

Your voice is breathy when you respond, “okay,” already impatient for him to get back to it. Spencer seems just as eager, immediately kissing between your legs with a passion that makes your lips jealous. 

The flat of his tongue presses circles against you and your hips buck, already ramping up to that point you’d been at before calling a time-out. Slowly his fingers find their way to your entrance and he teases you with them, dipping in to the first knuckle before withdrawing again. If you could form words, you’d beg him to just do it already, but all you can manage is an affronted whine as you tilt your hips down, hoping he catches the meaning. 

Of course he does—pushing two fingers inside you at once. The intrusive stretch adds a sharp edge to the pleasure, makes it more interesting, as your brain short-circuits and you choke out a moan. It only takes a few slow pumps of his fingers in tandem with the pressure of his tongue until your hips are writhing and you’re and mewling desperately, more overwhelmed with pleasure than you’ve ever been. You push his hair back, able to see him for the first time, and fully appreciate the hollow of his cheeks, the way he looks up at you with perfect, glassy half-lidded eyes, the rhythm of his hand and tongue—he takes your clit between his lips once more, sucking lightly, and you’re done for. A pornographic sob escapes from deep within you as you come, but he doesn’t stop. The orgasm lasts longer than you knew one could—although, it’s only your second time, so you don’t exactly have a lot of data to go off of. Your entire body feels warm and floaty, and what he’s doing feels so good you want him even deeper—but you know he won’t give you that yet. Instead you focus on the slow burn of your orgasm, allowing him to carry on for a while until you begin slowly drifting back to earth and it becomes a bit too much. He recognizes the barely-there whine for what it is and pulls his fingers from you carefully, pressing one final kiss to your clit that makes your legs twitch and summons a weak little moan. 

Spencer’s lips find other avenues, over the delicate skin of your thighs and hips and stomach as he slowly drags himself up again. By the time you’re face to face again you’re still breathing hard. You sort of feel like prey underneath his weight, studied so scrupulously, known far more intimately by him than anyone has ever known you before. But there is so much light and kindness in the way he looks at you that you almost can’t make sense of it. 

Maybe it’s possible to be known and still wanted. The possibility spins like a coin on its edge in your mind. An idea you spent so much time trying to nurture and is only just now beginning to sprout. Maybe someone could see you at your most vulnerable, and still find you worthy of kindness. Appreciation. Affection. 

Spencer certainly could, it seems, as he ducks down to kiss you. You dodge it, turning your head demurely. He nudges his head against yours, speaking so, so softly, utterly cloying as he teases, “what? You’re not gonna kiss me now? Is that how it is?”

“No!” you balk, equally as quiet and especially bashful. “Not when you… no.”

“Let me kiss you,” he pleads, so earnestly you turn your head back to face him. His big eyes are hazy, reflecting all the warmth and dizziness you feel. “Let me kiss you. Please.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna… taste… myself.”

Spencer doesn’t miss a beat. 

“Hm. We’ll need to work on that. Because one day, I’ll make you come just like that again, and then I’m going to fuck you, and you’re really going to want me to kiss you then, angel.”

Something flickers in your core. 

Suddenly you’re not so squeamish. You really want him to kiss you now. But it seems he’s going to have his fun, first. 

“Open.” Without even thinking about it, your lips part. He really ought to be careful with what he tells you to do—you’re all too compliant. Even as his fingers slip between your lips, you’re obediently hollowing your cheeks around them, watching him with big eyes as his own mouth falls slightly open. “Oh, baby,” he croons. “What are we gonna do with you?”

That flicker has returned to a full-fledged throbbing once you open your mouth again, slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen. 

“Can you make me come again right now?” you whisper, grasping lightly at his shirt. He grins like he loves the idea—and you let him have his way, accepting his lips on yours with no complaint. After a few moments, (the taste is surprisingly unobtrusive), he pulls away.

“I would love to.”

-

part three

[drakesfeelings]

I've got annn ideaaaa(your stuff is so good btw, but I just realised I haven't reblogged anything😭)

Anyways. I thought about this. Haaland x Famous!Reader

Famous!Reader where her fans literally don't care about football. Oh, he is a famous footballer? Cool! He literally won a treble? Awesome!(what is a treble?) He finished in top 3 for the ballon d'or? What even is that? His fans and rivals' fans are consantly fighting in the comment section and her fans are just confused about everything. Against what are Machester united? Of course Manchester is a city! Those red guys have an arsenal of what exactly?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ WHAT’S LUV ?

summary. [your name] and erling’s fans are absolute menaces.

social media version - taking requests here

trigger warning. absolutely nothing

side note. i LOVE this request !!!!!! so sorry that i couldn’t make it longer 😔😔

liked by erling.haaland, icespice and 987 786 others

yourusername kisses to the cameraman 💋

view all the comments…

user BRO SHES SO FINE

user just marry me like

user no she deserves better (me) 😘

user babe stop posting those photos you know im jealous 😔

user insecure ass

user YO WHY MY MAN ERLING IS HERE

user LIKE THATS WHAT IM SAYING

user @ erling.haaland who r u

user u don’t know erling ??????????????

user don’t know don’t care 🧖‍♀️

user can we juste appreciate the mother whose mothering and stop talking about the erling boy in her likes 😡😡😡😡😡

user FR WE DO NOT CARE

taylorswift you’re so gorgeous girl

oliviarodrigo 😍😍😍😍😍

sabrinacarpenter ATE

yourusername stawp bae

user @ user erling is in her likes 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

user mmh…….. thats weird

erling.haaland 📸

liked by the creator

user boy bye

liked by yourusername, judebellingham and 637 978 others

erling.haaland [no caption]

view all the comments…

user erling taking selfies ??????

user pookie stop being pretty

user 🐐

user he’s not an animal like

user gosh

user HUMMMMMMMMMMM

user why r u so loud

user DID Y’ALL SWIPE ?????

judebellingham 👀👀👀👀

liked by the creator

user YOU KNOW SOMETHING

user i know that coat

user and that ring 🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐🧐

user BRO ERLING HAS A GIRL ??????

user SEEMS LIKE IT

user it’s just a coat guys 🤨🤨🤨🤨

user yes BUT SOME DAYS AGO HE WAS IN THE LIKES OF @ yourusername

user OMG I LOVE THAT GIRL

user but it still means nothing like ?????

liked by erling.haaland, theweeknd and 875 372 others

yourusername when he texts me gn

view all the comments…

user WHO IS HE

user can’t believe that she just cheated on me in front of everyone

user HUMMM WE NEED TO KNOW LIKE

user WHOS THAT GUY

hayleybieber pretty baby

yourusername stop flirting, pookie’s jealous

liked by erling.haaland

user BRO YOU THINK YOU SMOOTH

user erling is in her likes again 🧐🧐🧐

user that’s suspicious

user that’s weird

user I THINK I RECOGNISE THOSE ARMS

user wait ME TOO

user guys that’s SO erling like look at those white arms

user ‘those white arms’ that’s violation

user we’re losing her to some blonde football guy 😔

user y’all don’t even know who he is ???????

user yeah bc we do not really care babe

user BUT HE WON A TREBLE ? AND FINISHED TOP 3 FOR THE BALLON D’OR ?

user who is treble

user are you kidding me

user pookie if i was i wouldn’t be talking to you

user they’re ignorant AND sassy 😦😦😦

user blank stare

@ yourusername posted a new instagram story !

@ drakesfeelings 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏽

[aajjks]

Scream, Baby. (m)

synopsis. He had a lot of victims but unfortunately, you became the victim of his love.

pairing: yan!ghostface!jungkook x fem!reader.

warnings: YANDERE, extreme themes, horror, mentions of bl*od, killi*gs, m*rders, d-ad bodies, self h-rm, obsession, unstable behaviour, possessiveness, unhealthy way of “loving”, manipulation, triggering themes.

part of @taetaecherub’s fear festival! ^^ please check out the other fics as well, all of them are a treat!!! 😭🙏

note. HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS. the collab finally comes to an end 💔 I had so much fun with all of the girls and the fics???? Oh my gosh. I had the chance to work with so many amazing writers. thanks neon for hosting the collab. I Hope you all will love this, leave feedback please? ENJOY.

wc. roughly around 3k

*not edited*

taglist. [will be added later]

Spending his time with you was his favourite part of the day, Jungkook adored you so much, you were his favourite, his favourite person, You were his only best friend.

“Jungkook! Not again, seriously?!” You whined, your voice like honey to him, Jungkook turned his head to look at you sitting on the couch right beside him.

He smiled. “What Y/N?” He knew but he just loved to hear your voice, so much.

He watched you as you rolled your eyes at him, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile.

You were just so cute.

“Another horror movie?! Gosh! JK, I seriously don’t get your obsession with them!” Jungkook clicked his tongue, looking at you with a lazy gaze.

“You know I love them almost as much as I love you, sweetheart.” He winked, flirty tone dripping from his lips.

You suck your teeth in. “Ehh you’re so bad at flirting,” laughing, you grab the remote from his hands.

Catching him off guard.

“But first… I want to watch the news.” It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, not at you though, never you.

Just at the upcoming situation.

Jungkook sighed, watching you change channels after channels until you come across your favourite one.

Fuck.

“One body has been found at the downtown Derryviles alley, the victim has been unable to be identified due to the disfigured face.” The news reporters voice echoed in Jungkook’s ears, his eyes glued on the T.V screen.

He remembered that so clearly. How could he not? He never forgot.

“This is the 34th victim killed with the same pattern. An unknown knife type used to stab the victim 17 times in the gut and disfiguring of the face.”

You gasped.

“JUNGKOOK?!” The man almost jumped from the couch at your loud voice. He turned his head towards your direction.

Your E/C eyes filled with fear and shock, you look at him like he’s the one who’s done this.

He is the one.

“W-What Y/N?!” Jungkook stuttered, avoiding your eyes. It was like you could see right through him, it was like you could see all of the things he’d done that night.

“I-It happened near the café…kook.” Your tone was wavy, Jungkook’s eyes softened, you were scared.

You were scared of him.

“I-I can’t believe this…. Th-This psycho killer is absolutely nuts!” You bite your lip, if your expression wasn’t so lovely, he would feel a little insulted.

You wouldn’t understand him even if he told you.

“O-Oh my god…. W-What if that killer kills me next!!?”

“ARE YOU STUPID?!” Jungkook cut you off. He grabbed your body and shook your shoulders, his eyes were wide.

How could you even think that?

Jungkook stared deeply into your eyes, his gaze filled with a dark glint, he chewed on his lower lip. You noticed a change in his demeanour.

He was being weird.

“I’ll always protect you! N-Nothing will ever harm you- I-I won’t let it! Don’t worry!” He sighed deeply.

“Are you okay, kook?”

He blinked, “I-I just don’t want you to be scared, Y/N.” Jungkook smiled, his shoulders relaxed, you noticed. 

He was always a weirdo, you loved him for that. But his reaction was quite actually weird. But then again, it was your friend, jungkook.

“And didn’t you notice? Most of his victims are men anyways…. If anything? You need to protect me!” 

“literally shut the fuck up!” you both giggled together as the news anchors voice faded under the loud sound of your laughter, you punched him playfully and his giggles only became louder.

“UGH STOOOP!” You cried as he tickled you. “I-I UGH NEED T-TO TELL YOU SOMETHING PLEASE!” You giggled from the sensation.

“What?” He breathed heavily, his eyes crinkled from his expression. “Did you know a creep tried to hit on me at the coffee house?”

Jungkook stopped laughing.

“But y’know that coworker of mine? y’know the one I think hates my guts? Come on! You know his name is Yoongi!? He saved me and shooed the creep away….” You stretched your arms, getting up to sit on the couch.

You felt your friends gaze on you. “Ahhh don’t worry kook, Yoongi is pretty good at intimidating people…. He can be pretty scary…”

No response.

“Also shit!!! I have to meet up with Do-il! Come on let’s finish the movie so you won’t whine about how I don’t give you time anymore.”

“Y/N?” After what felt like eternity, Jungkook finally spoke, you hummed, opening Netflix to put on Jungkook’s favourite movie.

“We’ve literally watched this so- You love me more right?”

You halted your movements, the atmosphere of the room took a turn, Jungkook wasn’t kidding around, he sounded so serious,

Scared even.

“Of course kook, you’re my number 1.”

He’s my boyfriend, and you’re my best friend.

“Can’t you stay with me… tonight?”

“No I can’t, kook.”

Jungkook’s brain itched. He couldn’t see you with that loser any longer. That prick had to die.

Jeon Jungkook, your best friend hated your boyfriend, Do-il.

He was an insecure man, deeply so, he was naturally territorial of you, he didn’t like sharing his anything with anyone but you.

You.

You were always the exception. You never could truly understand your friend, why was he so attached to you? Maybe it could be because of his childhood?

You didn’t fully know it but you knew that Jungkook had some trauma because of it, as you finally walked out of Jungkook’s apartment, the cold breeze almost left you breathless.

It’s cold.

Unlike Jungkook’s apartment, you wondered as you walked. Today was awfully cold, and now you were going to meet your boyfriend at a random coffee place.

And tomorrow was Halloween. That was the only good thing awaiting you. You loved the season so much.

Your phone vibrated, taking your attention, you quickly took it out of the pocket of your coat and saw your aunts name flashing brightly.

Pressing on the green option, you pressed the phone into your ears.

“Aunt Hae-Soo!” There was some sniffling noises when you spoke into the phone, the sound continued and you were starting to get concerned. “Are you okay???”

“Y-Y/N! Dae and Han haven’t come home since almost a week! I-I even filed a police complaint b-but I’m so worried!” The woman on the other line cried as you walked to a quite spot,

Your heartbeat immediately dropped as you heard her.

they couldn’t-

“Aunt!! Please calm down….. I’ll try to call Dae… he always picks up…. Please don’t cry…” you almost cooed with a heavy heart.

How could this not be a big deal when there was a literal psycho serial killer on the loose?

“Please I-I am so worried, Y/N are you safe?!” Your aunt lived in another town, you didn’t want to worry her more.

Maybe she had seen the news.

But you were safe right?

“Y-Yes absolutely! Aunt Hae-Soo don’t worry… I’ll call dae but you please please take care of yourself!” You looked around to see some people on the road walking.

It was almost 7 pm.

“Okay dear but please let me know and you also stay safe… I saw the news about your town… oh Jesus…. What is wrong with this world.” Your aunt exclaimed.

You let out a laugh at her sentence.

“Don’t worry!”

The line finally went dead and you quickly made your way to the cafe.

Jungkook was almost losing control.

He couldn’t bear to look at the ugly asshole any longer, even behind the mask, it made his eyes itch just to look at his covered unconscious face.

His basement was dark, eerily so. Park Do-il was a shady man after all. Do-il didn’t deserve you, his best friend.

You deserved someone who worshipped you. Not an unfaithful ugly piece of shit guy.

Jungkook worshipped you. He loved you so much. He was so much better than this guy who lived in a shitty apartment with a creepy basement.

You deserved so much better than him.

“What does she even see in you?” Jungkook scoffed, talking to your unconscious boyfriend. He sucked in his breath,

Jealousy was burning inside him like an erupting volcano.

“first of all, you are ugly, you don’t like scary movies and…. You are an unfaithful asshole to my Y/N!”

He took out the familiar knife.

His beloved after you.

The buck 120 shined so brightly every time Jungkook used it. The silver was so beautiful, pointy.

It went into the guts of people so smoothly. He cherished it so much.

“Ahhh finally I can kill you and have my Y/N all to myself.” Jungkook giggled, “you can’t even protect her, unlike me. You know what I did to that bastard who tried to harass my girl?” Jungkook glanced at the knife, lowering it to do-il’s abdomen.

Twisting it so deeply inside his gut that it made a cringey noise.

Seeing the way the knife pierced directly into his skin made jungkook feel so excited, it was the first time he was killing one of his victims without his mask.

“I twisted the knife so deeply into his heart almost like this. that fucking asshole screamed so loud, gosh!” Jungkook continued.

He bit his lip as he pulled the knife out and in, repeatedly. so fast that the blood slashed on his face.

Jungkook hated messing around but right now? This was almost orgasmic. He was thinking about you.

Ways to console you, his plan was almost complete. You were going to be his forever.

“I’d love to ruin your fucking face but then my Y/N would get suspicious…. She’s so smart… my precious girl….” Jungkook cooed to the unmoving body.

“Fuck yes! You are finally dead.” Jungkook checked his wrist and sighed in delight.

“I never wanted to give you a quick death but to have Y/N… I had to.”

“Now I’ll just have to wait for her to reach your apartment.” He kissed the knife, the blood stained his lips.

“As she should be, by now.” Jungkook aimed the knife towards his arm. “Now to make my plan successful, I’ll have to stab myself.” He swiped the dangerously pointy knife across his right arm.

“It doesn’t hurt that much, surprisingly.” He shrugged, repeating the same thing right across his abdomen, making sure to look convincing for you to believe his,

Bullshit story.

“Baby…. You will finally be mine…”

You felt like crying.

Being stood up for the sixth time by your boyfriend was embarrassing to say the least, there was a serial killer on the loose, your cousins were lost and It’s Halloween eve and you are crying while standing at your joke of a boyfriends door.

“Open the door, do-il!” You softly knock on the door, trying to control your emotions. Your heart broke, how could he do this to you?!

You knocked again and again.

Until it opened. A hand came out of the door and pulled you in before you could even say anything.

“Do-il you ass! What are you doing!?” You cried as the hand pushed you into his home.

The light bulb made it easier for you to see the man standing so close to you and you gasped.

“J-Jungkook?!?” You almost screamed but the guy hushed you. You looked up and down to take notice of his appearance and a shriek left you.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU??! A-AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN DO-IL’S APARTMENT?!?”

You were so confused now, what the fuck was wrong with today?? “Y-Y/N hush! Come on. I-I have to show you something!”

Jungkook took you towards the staircase to your boyfriends basement, this was beyond freaky, “where the hell is Do-il?” The man didn’t leave your hand. You looked at Jungkook’s dirty clothes, dirt everywhere. His arm was bleeding furiously.

Just what the hell had happened here?

“Jungkook you’re bleeding!” This was concerning, your heartbeat was dropping as jungkook and you entered the basement.

His hand left yours as you stood in the dark until jungkook turned on the light switch.

The light was bright on your eyes, you blinked twice.

“What the hell.” You cursed as you tried to open them. Your eyes were sensitive, as your vision cleared.

And your knees started to shake, the view infront of you made your world crumble.

“W-Who’s that…” you saw a body in a black cloak, the face was barely covered by a weird face on the mask.

“Go ahead, and see for yourself.” Jungkook didn’t look at you but his gaze was set ahead on the body.

“Go Y/N.” Jungkook urged you on, taking your hand in his once again, your feet taking you near the body.

There was blood oozing out of it.

“J-Jungkook…” you stuttered with fear, the bile in your throat was rising, “this is the serial killer.”

“Park Do-il aka the psycho killer who killed so many people.”

Your brain registered his words, but your body paralysed with shock, goosebumps on your skin rose.

“I got a text about two hours ago… with an unregistered number with this address and a question from a horror movie quiz.”

You listened and listened, your lips sealed, this was crazy, this couldn’t be true.

“I came here because I knew this was your boyfriends house… but as soon as I entered? He attacked me.”

Jungkook stole a glance at you, you were petrified, the colour from your face disappeared.

He felt bad.

“B-But hes t-the one that’s d-dead!”

Jungkook chewed on his inner cheek to stop his frustration from building up, you were so annoyingly smart.

He loved you for that.

“Exactly. He attacked me- he was acting crazy he was going on about how he thought you were cheating on him with me- h-he wanted to kill me and you!”

Jungkook made sure to conceal his tone into one of fear. “H-He even confessed to killing that guy you told me a about! He’s crazy Y/N,

It was all his plan… he was going to kill you- I-I had to protect you.” Jungkook was a good actor. The tears came out so easily as he hiccuped.

“H-How could not have known that he was behind all of this?!” Jungkook grabbed your busy, his hands on your shoulders.

His heart hammered so loudly. “I-I c-can’t believe this…. D-Do-il was the killer all along?”

Jungkook wanted to kiss the tears away from your eyes, his plan was almost successful. “Y-Yes! Even I was shocked! I had to kill him before he could kill you Y/N!”

“Don’t scream, baby… it’s okay… I got you. I love you Y/N… I’m sorry I had to kill him.” Jungkook pulled you in for a hug.

Breathing so deeply into your embrace.

“I-I…. thank God you’re safe, kook.” You wrapped your arms around him. “Let’s g-go from here…”

“You did the right thing by killing this psycho bastard…He deserved to die.”

Yes, my 35th and final victim.

Your eyes traveled towards the silver bloodied knife, it was the same one from Jungkook’s apartment.

A buck 120.

[admirxation]

Pathetic | Leon S. Kennedy oneshot

pairing: sub! re2 stepbro! leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

summary: the reader and leon always hated each other, ever since her mother and his father decided to merge the families. one night, when the reader gets ready for a date, her and leon find out a secret desire both of them have been hiding.

word count: 2.5k

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! i do not condone everything i write, my writing doesn’t reflect all my morals. if any of the following warnings trigger or make you feel uncomfortable, scroll away; you are in charge of what content you’re consuming. this work is 18+ only, minors are strongly advised not to interact.

warnings: NSFW 18+ content. female anatomy and she/her pronouns used for reader. detailed smut: stepcest, dominance and submission, f stepping on m, degrading (m receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), tasting cum, hair pulling, tit play, and creampie.

The day of your mother and Leon’s father’s wedding was when you two needed to get along, but that wouldn’t happen. You two went to the same high school, hating one another; it was the most ironic and hilarious moment when you had to start living together. Everyone in the school always commented on how funny it was, constantly asking what it was like to be siblings and commenting on how you needed to “end the war” and befriend one another.

But like everyone with a sibling, arguments got worse between you, but this didn’t stop your parents' union. You remembered wearing that frilly pink dress, unflattering and too big on you, but it was what your mother wanted. Standing with the other bride’s maids, you kept death-staring Leon — him reciprocating — and you both knew the arguments and fighting would be a part of your life.

You were both in your early twenties now, saving up to move out; your parents desperately wanted both of you gone, the constant fighting was getting too much, and they wanted to spend more quality time with each other.

For the weekend, your parents — well, your mother and the man she married — were away for an anniversary, something they would do every year, leaving the house for just you and Leon. Right now, you were getting dressed and putting on your favourite skirt and fishnet stockings, getting ready for your date; you were going to meet a guy off Tinder. You wanted to take every opportunity to go on as many dates as possible, parties, and have as much fun as possible, planning to invite your date to stay the night if things went well. While thinking about your date, you were putting on your eyeliner while your favourite music was blasting from your phone; the music connecting to the speaker to annoy Leon, laughing to yourself every time you heard him shout: “Turn it off!”.

You knew you got under his skin when you heard heavy footsteps coming closer to your room, preparing yourself for another argument; Leon burst through the doors as you finished your eyeliner, giving him a smug look as he stared at you in frustration.

“Do you need to play it that loud?” you nodded, pulling your speaker closer so he couldn’t turn it off.

“I’m trying to play a game with Chris.”

You turned it down, only to speak to him, planning to turn it back on right after he left: “If it’s that much of a problem, go to his house… I need you gone for tonight anyway, inviting Mason over.”

“Ah, another guy… Sounds like something I can tell Mom and Dad,” he always tried to scare you, but it wasn’t going to work, your mother was always forgiving of everything you did, and Leon’s father was always trying to win you over — “the favourite” was the best way to describe you.

“Think about it for a moment; they never believe you,” Leon looked to the ground when knowing your words had the truth, “Now… Please leave me alone, I don’t want to see your face when I return.”

“Whatever, continue being a slut for all I care,” he turned around to leave the room.

Your eyes widened; you knew you had a different style but didn’t think Leon would insult you that way.

“Fuck you!” you exclaimed; before Leon knew it, you pushed him to the ground, wincing in pain as the carpet scraped along his arms, looking at you with fear, “Listen here, you little twirp, don’t you dare call me that again, or I’ll make you regret it!” anger lingering in your words, Leon continuing to look at you with fear as you stepped on his chest, feeling his breathing quicken as you continued to shout as him and put him in his place.

You were about to lift your foot away from his chest, looking at him all scared and vulnerable, looking down and seeing there was an imprint on his sweatpants; as you looked down, Leon blushed with embarrassment; he had tried to keep it in and not let you see it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” this only made you step harder onto Leon’s chest, making his breathing quiver under your control, “How pathetic… You’re getting hard for your little sister.”

You witnessed him squirm as you pressed more force onto him, seeing him get harder.

“Y-yes, fine, I have… liked you for a while… I never hated you… P-please, can you get off me? You’re hurting me,” you thought momentarily, deciding to show him some mercy, lifting the pressure off him and seeing him prop himself upright as he looked at you — still hard and showing an imprint on his sweatpants.

“You’re a disgusting little pervert, aren’t you?” a smirk crept on your face as you folded your arms.

While calling him all the names under the sun, this excited you. You had to admit Leon was extremely attractive and you hated admitting it. Eating at the same table as him and having your bedroom next to his was too much; falling under the illusion that you hated him was easier than admitting to the dark fantasies of wanting your stepbrother to fuck you.

Having these thoughts spiral through your head as you stood there, looking into Leon’s blue eyes — it was interrupted by a ping on your phone. Returning to your room and hearing Leon slowly follow you, wanting more and more. Your eyes glanced over your phone, seeing that Mason decided to flake on you; he gave you some excuse of having a headache; you just rolled your eyes— you weren’t disappointed and knew it would just be another deleted contact. Turning around as you placed your phone back on the table, you saw Leon standing in the doorway, messing with the long sleeves of his shirt and looking down while blushing.

“What do you want?” you asked.

“Well… It seems like you’re going to be free,” Leon could sense something had happened with the lack of agency to walk out the door, “I, um, I was wondering —”

You raised an eyebrow: “You want to fuck me, don’t you?” It wasn’t hard to read him like a book; he was practically desperate for your touch again, still hard from your degrading actions.

Like you, Leon was always attracted to you; how couldn’t he? You were beautiful; all the guys in high school wanted to be with you. Every time you would wear any outfit that exposed some skin drove him crazy, he could control himself throughout the day, but when everyone was asleep, he locked his bedroom door and started touching himself to the thought of you, slowly caressing his cock to the image of your cleavage or whatever was on show — wanting more than just a thought. This was when he could get the “more” and finally live his most profound and darkest fantasies with you. Was he ashamed? Of course, he was; who wants to admit they want to fuck their step-sister? But he felt his attraction slowly overtake him. You never made it easy with the outfits or walking to your room and going past his door in nothing but a towel, leaving Leon to wonder what it would be like if that towel just dropped, just once — he was disgusted with himself.

“Please… You already know the effect you have on me… I need you,” hearing those words made you wet; hearing his pleas and seeing him all desperate and vulnerable, you liked that you had the upper hand.

You moved closer to him, hearing his breathing shallow as he got more nervous — his blushing cheeks giving it all away — pressing your hand on his imprint and feeling how big he was under those sweatpants.

“Do you like it?” you asked as you continuously moved your hand along his length.

He nodded and looked down at you, seeing your exposed cleavage with his height towering over you; he then moved his hand on your cheek, moving into a passionate and lustful kiss. It was wrong, disgusting, all the words you could use, but you couldn’t deny how wet it made you, feeling your clit pulsate and beg for his cock to ram itself inside you. Before you knew it, Leon moved his hands, grazing your ass and reaching your thighs.

You stopped him momentarily: “Did I give you permission to touch me like that, Leon?” he shook his head, his cock twitching with pleasure the more you controlled him.

“Get on the bed,” you demanded.

Leon followed suit, lying on your bed, waiting for you to join him. You removed your top, exposing your chest covered by a bra, making Leon stare at your beautiful body that was only covered with a skirt, fishnets, and bra now. You started to crawl towards him on the bed, getting on top of him and meeting his blue eyes that communicated his desperation for you; you started to grind your hips, grinding and feeling his large cock underneath his pants, yearning to be exposed so it could finally see what you felt like. You traced your fingers from his yaw down to the band of his pants, feeling him shake as he anticipated what you would do next.

“What do you want me to do to you, Leon?” you said seductively, rubbing his clothed cock, distracting him as he thought.

“Whatever you want, I just… I just need you so much right now,” he said breathlessly; you smirked at his vulnerability, knowing precisely what you wanted to do with him first.

You moved down, your fingers gripping the band of his pants, seeing his cock spring up as it was exposed in front of you; Leon gasped as the cold air hit his skin; both of you blushing as you saw the precum that had already lingered on the tip of his cock. You traced the tip of your finger on it, feeling the tacky liquid on your finger as you moved it to your tongue, making Leon bush harder as he saw you lick it and taste him for the first time.

“Oh fuck,” you heard Leon say under his breath, seeing how beautiful and sexy you were.

You then swirled your tongue on his tip, being met with Leon wincing in pleasure, not breaking eye contact as you turned the twirling into your mouth taking more of his length; you loved hearing Leon moan, hearing the way he said your name as you gave him the best pleasure he had ever had. You moved your mouth up and down, Leon interlocking his fingers in your soft hair, gently moving your head down and loving how you looked as your eyes met his.

“You’re so good at this,” Leon uttered as his fingers started to caress your cheek, looking at you like you belonged to him.

It was hypnotic to look at you, the way you made Leon shake and curl his toes as he tried not to cum too fast — even though he was desperate to see what you would look like with his cum all over your face — he wanted to make sure he felt your walls surround his cock before he released himself.

“Oh my… fuck… Please let me fuck you already; I need to know what you feel like,” his breathing became more laboured.

You moved your mouth away from his cock, it glistening wet from your actions, watching him as he propped himself upright to meet your face, inches away from your lips. He moved into another wet kiss — not caring what you had previously done — you moved your fingers into his hair, gently tugging and hearing Leon softly groan as you made him endure more pain.

“I love seeing you squirm like that,” you said between kisses.

Leon continued to connect his lips to yours desperately, his hands trailing behind your back as he tried to remove your bra; you couldn’t help but smile as you felt the failed attempts until you finally heard the unclasping sound. He threw your bra out of the way, it landing across the room; Leon then took the opportunity to move his warm hand on your breast and squeeze it hardly; you moaned as he groped you, feeling his thumb circle your erect nipple.

“Can you please get on all fours, please,” Leon politely asked; you couldn’t help but love how he asked.

You followed his wishes, twirling your body into an all-fours position arching your back and exposing your thong to Leon, making him blush even more. His fingers laced around your inner thighs, making you shudder as he approached your wet centre.

“Should I be careful with your stockings or —” you cut him off.

“Just rip them… I don’t care, just get on with it,” you were eager and longing for Leon.

His fingers interlocked in the holes of your stockings, pulling them apart and creating a massive ripped hole, moving your thong over to the side and revealing your wet glistening pussy — making his cock twitch and release another pooling of precum. At first, he started to rub his cock along your soaking slit, making you get more desperate, biting your lip in anticipation.

“Can’t believe you wanna fuck your little sister’s pussy, Leon,” you wanted to tease and humiliate him, knowing he liked the degrading.

He liked it, showing you this by pushing his tip slowly inside you, making your breathing quicken, and finally pushing his whole cock inside your wet and swollen cunt, and gasping. As he continued to push himself, you screamed his name, grabbing fistfuls of the blanket.

“Oh fuck, Leon!” you couldn’t keep your moans in as you tried to get used to his size, loving the feeling of his length moving through your walls.

“You’re so tight, fuck,” Leon continued to groan, trying his best to control himself, getting more difficult as your walls tightly surrounded his member.

All the tension between you two had been building up for ages — finally getting released in the pleasure you were giving one another — lost in the ecstasy of each other bodies colliding together in an orgasmic union.

“You’re so pathetic,” you degraded him even more, Leon moving his cock quicker as you kept giving him what you wanted, “Such a little pervert,” you continued as you looked back to Leon’s face that was plastered with a red tint of blush.

He continued to push his cock harder inside you, feeling and hearing how wet you were because of him, his nails digging into your skin.

“Leon, I’m going to cum, don’t stop!” you moaned loudly.

“Please, please cum for your big brother,” his grip on your ass got harder, knowing bruises would form from how he dug his nails in you, his movements gaining a sense of urgency in his quick pace.

You released yourself all over Leon’s cock; him loving how it felt and seeing it trickle down and glaze his members and your inner thighs; this happened because his touch made your release easier. He finally came inside you, making you roll your eyes to the back of your head as you felt warmth pool inside you. You were both breathless, collapsing on the bed and Leon sitting beside you.

“Looks like you’re good at some things… You’re not entirely useless,” you teased him.”

“I-I can show more of what I can do,” he stuttered.

my links: masterlist | kofi

[pedroscurls]

Third Time’s A Charm (Part 7).

Character(s): Frankie “Catfish” Morales and Reader (female, second person POV)  Summary: Frankie tells you what happened in Colombia and things slowly begin to shift between the both of you. Word Count: 2,747 Author's Note: Thank you guys for sticking around. I know this update is a little late (especially since I’ve been updating daily for the first 5-6 chapters), but I appreciate you all for being patient with me. Anyways, enjoy! We’re getting to the good parts🥹🫶 Warning: Mentions of killing, violence, death.

“What?” You looked at him with a shocked expression, obviously taken aback by his words. Tom was gone? What did that mean? “What do you mean he’s gone, Frankie?”

Frankie sighed and leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face. His shoulders slumped forward and he avoided your eyes. “We lost him.”

“Frankie,” you pleaded. “Just say it…”

“You know what I mean, hermosa,” Frankie sighed. “Don’t make me say it.”

You bit your lower lip and gently took his hand. Instead of replying, you decided to lead him back to your bedroom, hoping that it would bring him the comfort and safety you were sure he was probably needing. You glanced over your shoulder as he followed you, still avoiding your gaze. His hand squeezed yours tightly and once inside your room, you turned the lights on and shut the door behind you.

“What are you–”

“You’re beating yourself up,” you interrupted. 

Frankie huffed, looking around your room. “It should’ve been me,” he whispered. “I was too quick on the trigger.”

“Frankie,” you sighed, leading him to sit on your bed. “Talk to me, please.” You didn’t want to push information out of him, but you knew that if Frankie kept all of this bottled in, things could get worse. It was like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. 

He looked at you, eyes teary. “Nothing went as planned… And there was this village,” Frankie sighed. “They had weapons, they were reaching for it and–” Frankie shook his head, looking away from you. “I killed all those people… We should have been more aware, more alert.”

“Did they–” you sighed. “Is that why Tom is gone?” You asked, keeping a hold on his hand reassuringly. 

Frankie sighed, watching how you laced your fingers with his. He felt a sudden sense of relief wash over him, knowing that he was safe and that he was with you. “Part of it… There were these two young men. I’m guessing one of the people that we killed was their dad and well, they followed us when we left. They wanted Tom,” his jaw tightened and so did his grip around your hand. “They saw Tom shoot their people, but– But I think I pulled the trigger first. If I hadn’t–”

“Then you’d all be dead,” you whispered quietly. Hesitantly, you released his hand to cup his cheek, watching as he turned to look over at you. “I’m sure that you all did what you could, Frankie…”

He sighed, leaning against your touch. “Everything just went to shit,” he replied. “And all that money,” Frankie shook his head. “All for nothing.”

“I don’t know what I can do to help,” you replied honestly. “Part of me would like to believe that Tom wouldn’t want you thinking like this though…” Slowly, you dropped your hands and pulled back, looking over at him as you brought your legs underneath you. “You all made a choice, including Tom.”

Frankie shook his head, looking away from you. “And look what that choice cost us.” 

“Do you regret it?” You asked.

He sighed, shrugging a shoulder. “No, and Santiago would have done it without us and who knows what would have happened.”

“The guilt would have settled in just as much as it is now,” you replied. “This mission was supposed to be easy and it wasn’t, but you guys adapted, you guys were there with Tom until the very end…”

Frankie felt tears stinging his eyes, feeling a sudden heaviness of emotions weighing on his shoulders. He tried to hold it back, tried not to show you how much it was affecting him, but he knew that he couldn’t hide it from you. 

“I just can’t be around Vic, or Santiago, or Benny or Will,” he admitted. 

“Then stay here as long as you need to,” you replied. “But you know that you can’t hide out here forever.”

Frankie sighed. All he could remember was his last few conversations with Tom, knowing how he was struggling with his divorce and with Tess, but also remembering the advice he had given him. It gave Frankie the clarity he needed, especially since you came back into his life. 

“I’ll talk to Santiago tomorrow,” he said quietly. 

“And Victoria?”

“Not thinking that far ahead,” Frankie said. “I just– I just want to be here, with you. Is that okay?” 

You nodded and lied back down, gently pulling him down with you. Frankie followed you closely, lying back down and hesitantly wrapping his arms around you. You leaned into him with your head resting against his shoulder and your arm draped over his midsection. You knew that this was crossing the line, but a part of you didn’t care, at least not at this moment. 

Frankie shut his eyes, feeling himself relax completely. It always surprised him by how comfortable and safe he felt when he was with you; even with the nagging thoughts, you managed to calm him down and reassure him that things would be okay.

“You know that what happened in Colombia wasn’t your fault, right?” you whispered, looking up at him and noticing how relaxed he looked in comparison to just fifteen minutes ago. 

Frankie didn’t look at you, instead, he just shrugged a shoulder. “There are so many things we could have done differently and if we did, then maybe Tom would still be alive.”

“Did you and the guys do everything you could?” You asked. 

“Yeah.”

“And when shit hit the fan, you guys adapted?”

“Yeah.”

“Then what else could you guys have done?” 

Frankie sighed, “I don’t know. I just know that Tom didn’t deserve to die like that.”

You bit your lower lip, tightening your hold on him and burying your face against him. Knowing that Tom was gone broke your heart; while he was divorced, he still loved Molly and Tess was his entire world. Tom was just doing his best to navigate civilian life and while he struggled, you knew that he did all he could. This mission was something he needed (you and the rest of the guys knew that), but it hurt to know that it cost him his life. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m gonna miss him.”

Frankie slowly opened his eyes, using his free hand to run gently along your arm. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead and sighed, “Wanna know what Tom told me?

“Hm?”

“He told me I deserve to be happy,” he whispered. 

You bit your lower lip, looking up at him. “And are you? Happy?” 

Frankie sighed. “I don’t think I’ve been happy for a long time,” he admitted. “But with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He kept his eyes locked with yours; lying down with you like this and having you in his arms served as a reminder of what he truly wanted and missed. 

“Frankie,” you replied quietly. There was a blush that slowly crept up along the side of your neck and to your cheeks, feeling your heart skip a beat and butterflies fill your tummy. He had always been the only one who was able to make you feel special and even after years of being together, Frankie still made you blush, still made you feel like the most important person in the world. 

“And I want to be happy again,” Frankie said honestly.

“I want you to be happy too,” you added. “But–”

He shook his head and interrupted you with a soft kiss on your forehead once more. “We don’t have to talk about it right now. I just wanted to let you know where I’m at.” When he pulled back, he tightened his hold around you further and shut his eyes. 

You didn’t respond though. You didn’t know what he meant, or what he was implying. Frankie was still a married man and no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, you knew that you couldn’t cross that line. But you would be lying to yourself if you said that it didn’t hurt, to know that while he still felt the same way, you couldn’t have him. 

You watched as he slowly fell asleep, relaxing against your bed. His quiet snores filtered your room and you noticed a calm and relieved expression on his face. You wondered how long it had been since he had a good night’s rest and you certainly didn’t want to wake him either, especially not after his episode earlier. 

But now, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind drifted. You thought about Tom and it brought tears to your eyes to know that he was no longer here anymore, but you also thought about the rest of the guys. If Frankie was reacting the way he did, you had to wonder how Santiago, Benny, and Will were doing. Then, you thought back to Victoria. She made it very clear that she and Frankie were more than okay, even mentioning the idea of couple’s therapy. Though, it confused you because while Frankie gave you limited information, there was something going on in his marriage that you knew was none of your business. 

A week ago, you didn’t expect Frankie to enter your life again and you certainly didn’t expect the feelings to come rushing back. He was always the man you were supposed to be with, but when he decided to get married, you just assumed that the feelings were just one-sided. And now, lying with him like this, with the sounds of his snores… It just brought back so many memories from when you were together. This was something you always hoped would happen again; a third and final chance that would allow you both to get it right this time. 

But, Frankie was still married. 

Trying to force the lingering thoughts out of your mind, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek. He hummed in response and nuzzled closer to you. 

“I love you,” you whispered, finally shutting your eyes and forcing yourself to sleep.

—

The following morning (which was just a few hours later), you had woken up to the sound of your phone ringing. You and Frankie had shifted with you lying on your side and him cuddling behind you. You felt him bury his face against the back of your neck and his arms tightened around you. You wanted to revel in this moment, but the sound of your phone going off was preventing you. 

Quietly, you pulled yourself from his arms and grabbed your phone to see that it was Santiago calling. Feeling slightly relieved, you looked over your shoulder and found Frankie still asleep, still snoring. Figuring that he needed the rest, you stepped out of your room and walked into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee and finally answered the phone.

“Santi,” you said softly. “Are you okay?” 

Santiago sighed. “He told you.”

“Someone had to.”

“It’s my fault,” Santiago replied quietly. “I shouldn’t have– I was being selfish and the guys wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me. Tom would still be here–”

“Stop,” you sighed. “I just had this conversation with Frankie last night and I’m going to tell you what I told him. Each of you had a choice, Santi, and I know you did all that you could to prepare for this mission.”

“But–”

“No,” you interrupted. “Tom wouldn’t want you guys thinking like this, and you know that.”

“He’s gone,” he replied. His voice was shaky, quiet, sad. 

“I know,” you responded. “You, Frankie, Will, and Benny need to talk about it, Santiago. I wasn’t there. I can’t–” you sighed heavily. “I can only do so much.”

“No, you’re right,” Santiago sighed. “How is Fish?”

You leaned against the counter of your kitchen island and sighed, remembering Frankie’s brief episodic flashback. “Not good, Santi. He had a bit of an episode last night. A motorcycle’s exhaust–”

“Sounded like a gunshot,” Santiago interrupted. “We’re all on edge.” 

“He slept in my bed,” you blurted out. “With me in it.”

Santiago let out a quiet chuckle. “And…”

“And he told me he wasn’t happy.”

“He isn’t.”

“He’s still married.”

“He is,” Santiago said. “But what do you want to do about it?” 

You bit your lower lip and thought back to Victoria. You had always been polite to her, but all you could think about was a couple of days ago when you bumped into her. She had acted so friendly and such a complete difference than a year ago when she pulled you aside. Still, neither of the guys knew about it and you certainly didn’t want to tell them either. 

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I still love him, Santi.”

“We all know that,” he sighed. “You know, the day you had us over for dinner, Fish asked Tom for some advice.”

“Frankie did mention that…”

“He asked Tom when he knew his marriage with Molly was over,” Santiago replied. “Frankie hasn’t been happy in a long time and the rest of the guys noticed a big shift in him this last week. Maybe it had something to do with you.”

“What would Tom say about all of this?” you sighed. 

Santiago cleared his throat. “He’d tell you to go after what you wanted, to not have any regrets and just go for it.” 

You felt tears sting your eyes as you thought back to Tom. “Does– Does Tess and Molly know?” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Funeral’s this weekend.” 

“I should probably check in on Tess,” you added. “You and the guys need to talk about what happened in Colombia, Santi. If you and Frankie are having a tough time, I can only imagine that Will and Benny are too.”

“Okay,” Santiago sighed before adding, “If it means anything, I’m glad Frankie’s with you.” 

“I wouldn’t want him anywhere else,” you replied honestly. “But he needs you guys more than he needs me right now, and you and I both know that he won’t admit it.” 

“I know,” Santiago said. 

“And if you need anything, I’m here, okay?” 

Santiago let out a relieved sigh. “You’re the glue of this group, do you know that?”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. You guys go way back.”

“You were the missing piece,” he laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you smiled. “If you want, you, Benny, and Will can come over. Frankie will be here and I can leave for a bit to grab groceries. I can make us dinner.”

Santiago sighed. “I don’t know if the guys wanna see me right now.”

“What happened wasn’t your fault, Santi. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except those two guys who killed Tom.”

“They wouldn’t have even been in Colombia–”

“But you guys were and there’s nothing else that you can do about what’s already been done, Santi. You did your homework and you had this well thought-out plan. You were more than prepared.”

“But that village…”

“That village wasn’t part of your plan. You did what you all thought was right at that moment, but like I said, you and the rest of the guys need to talk this out, or else it’s going to eat at all of you.” 

“Okay,” Santiago said with a sigh. “I’ll call Will and Benny.”

“And Frankie.”

“Okay, and Fish.” 

“I’m serious, Santi.”

“I know, I hear you. I’ll see you tonight.”

Just as you got off the phone, you heard your bedroom door open, followed by the soft sounds of Frankie’s footsteps. He was walking down the hall and to the kitchen, his hair in complete disarray. He looked like he had gotten much more rest than he had been. 

“Morning,” you said with a smile, watching as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Is that coffee I smell?” he replied, his voice much deeper in the mornings.

“It is.” You grabbed two cups and handed him one, turning on your heel to retrieve the coffee pot before you felt Frankie grab your hand and turn you back around, pulling you flush against him. “Frankie…”

He looked down at you, moving his hands to rest on your hips as he rested his forehead against yours. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” 

“Everything.”

“I might need you to elaborate on that,” you teased.

Frankie chuckled, pulling back enough to press his lips against your forehead. “I want this,” he admitted. “Whatever it takes, I want this. I want you. I want us.” 

---

Part 8.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed, @tanzthompson, @casa-boiardi, @bitchwitch1981, @painitemoondust, @pedritosdarling​, @vanemando15, @kittenlittle24​​​

[hothothotch]

okay, so, exit wounds (s05e21). i know we all hotch girls know this episode for “sit down and shut up” reasons, but something just came up in my mind about this episode

FROM NOW ON WE’RE GONNA TALK ABOUT DOMESTIC ABUSE, SO THIS IS A HUGE TRIGGER WARNING!!!!

• it’s not cannon (because the writers couldn’t give anyone a cohesive backstory), but i guess most of us believe Aaron was abused by his dad (based on what he said on season 01 about some abused people becoming the ones who hunt bad guys)

• if Aaron was abused, chances are that his mom was abused, too, if not physically, psychologically (which probably didn’t happen to Sean, seen that he didn’t speak i’ll about his dad, but i have another theory about it, too)

• so in exit wounds when he sees how Peter Owens was raised and what he turned out, that his dad was an abuser and Peter/Mrs Owens were victims, he saw his family there, and he finally got to confront Mr Owens the way he could never confront his father, and since he told Mrs Owens that he’d never lay a hand on her, i assume she pressed charges and he was arrested — something Mrs Hotchner never had the courage to do

just wanted to share my thoughts with you because it got me 😭

sean’s theory: while he never said anything bad about his dad, he didn’t seem thrilled about him either (season one, when he talks about the way he died); at some point in season 8, Aaron says that he didn’t see Sean growing up because he was sent to boarding school.

my theory is that, like Aaron and his mom, Sean was abused by Mr Hotchner and he blamed Aaron for leaving them to that — they didn’t grow up together and there’s at least 10 years between them, so Sean wouldn’t know he was abused, too (and considering that some victims of abuse don’t have the courage to talk about it, maybe Mrs Hotchner wouldn’t have told him, which only made things worst — but she’s a victim, so she’s not the one to blame)

he grew up believing Aaron was “the perfect son” his father was proud of, because he became a lawyer like his father and all, and that’s why he resents Aaron — not only for leaving then, but for never suffering the way they did.

anyway, just a thought

[coleszzzworld]

Title~ swimming pools.

Yandere bully hawks ! X fem-reader! x yandere bully dabi! (No quirk Au! College AU!) y/fn - your friend name

Summary-✰”you go to a frat party and your friend promised you dabi & hawks wouldn’t be there , but what happens when they show up anyways?.”✰-

TRIGGER WARNING ✰-alcohol consumption , cussing, douche bag energy, suggestive content! ,kidnapping , yandere behavior!-✰POSITIVELY DO NOT READ IF EASILY TRIGGERED! ✰-enjoy the fall.-✰

-✰”I was in the dark room, loud tunes, lookin' to make a vow soon”-✰

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“Cmon y/n!” Y/fn says as she practically explodes with excitement , “look I know your worried, but dean said you can come! He knows Your like my best friend! “ she says as she tries to reassure you, you didn’t want to come here…. You used to love parties. But you know those two idiots would be at them , so you stop going.

“And if your worried that dabi and hawks will be here , don’t worry I convinced Dean to not invite them!” She says putting her hand on your shoulder. Dean and y/fn has been dating since the start of college and Dean is a okay guy….he’s your typical frat boy….loud , annoying but he sure knew how to throw a party. “Okay y/fn , let’s do this maybe it’ll be fun!” I say getting a bit excited, “see that’s The spirt!” She says grabbing your hand leading you into the frat house .

“Here’s your drink y/n! I made sure to put a lot of alcohol in it cause your definitely going to get shit faced with me!” Y/fn says as she hands you the drink . “Ughhh okay y/f/n I see your trying to give me alcohol poisoning… thank you-“ your eyes make contact to the front door . Swinging open to reveal the demons of your life…. Hawks and dabi. “Y/fn?!?! You said Dean didn’t invite them !”you say flipping out immediately , “he didn’t ? What the hell are they doing here !” She’s says confused. “Look I’m going to find Dean….I can’t believe this ! I’m so sorry y/n !” She says as she gets up and is off to find Dean, ‘there’s no way im going sit here so they can just come up to me and harass me .’ You think to your self as you chug the pineapple juice and tequila in your cup . ‘ i need a shot . ‘ you say as you get up and walk to the make shift bar in the kitchen.

“Yuck!” You say to yourself as you take your second shot of Tequila, you immediately follow it with a chaser to get rid of the alcoholic taste “Hey y/n! “ y/f/n says as she walks up to you. “So I talked to Dean. He said he didn’t invite them . But then they fount out they weren’t invited so they…u-uh…they threatened him . Said if he didn’t he would be kicked out of school.” She says looking down sadly . “Those fucking douche bags. “ you say annoyed . You don’t blame Dean. You would’ve of did the same thing . But still dabi abuses his power cause he’s the principals son. “L-Look I know you don’t want to be here…So I’ll drive you back to your dorm ! But first I need too tell Dean we’re gonna have a girls night in your dorm !” She says as she walks out the kitchen to find Dean once again. You then decide to a another shot for the road.

“It’s been ten minutes…where is y/f/n?” You think to your self getting a bit worried, you’ve had about four more shots your definitely feeling it , as your scrolling through your phone , looking at Instagram , you feel a presence- no you feel two presences behind you.

“You know you look really good in that dress baby…” hawks says as he puts his hand on your lower back . “Fuck off…fuck face” you say slurring your words obviously drunk. “Well that’s not nice babe . If you were at our dorm right now . Who knows what we would do .” Dabi says as he puts his hand on your thigh only going higher , you eventually try to get up trying to walk away but couldn’t cause your drunk. “Ah-ah , you can’t walk baby…your to fucked up!” Hawks says as he gets behind you putting his hand on your Ass . “How bout you go back to me and dabi’s dorm baby?~” he says pushing against you eventually you feel something hard . Dabi eventually walks up to you and stands in front of you holding your chin up. “Hawks is right babe. You can’t be here like this someone might take advantage on you” he says as he kisses your lips . You push away . “Y’all are so disgusting. I don’t want to be around y’all . Fuck off! I’ll just go find y/f/n “ you say but as you go to walk away, “she’s with Dean having some ‘alone time ‘ “ dabi says as he grabs your hand “something we should be having babe.” And hawks grabs the other one . “Cmon baby~ let’s get out here this party is lame . we can have our own fun party !” He says as he grabs the bottle of tequila and you and them walk towards the door eventually getting into dabi’s car.

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

A/N- Im seriously finna make a part 3😩

[atom-writings]

How would the main 8 react to a yandere S/O? And are there certain kinds of yandere they would be more okay with than others? Would they try to stop them or break up?

(Allies X Reader) Yandere S/O!

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N im so tired sorry i only did the allies for now but ill post the axis for this tommorow :]

Trigger Warning: Typical yandere TWs (Unhealthy behaviour, manipulation, stalking mentions, murder mentions) from both parties.

The charm he once found in your obsessive antics wears off pretty quickly. Sure, he’s glad your relationship is so easy, but it’s a little too easy. Your behaviour didn’t bother him until he realised how much it bothers others… have you been hiding something?

As time goes on, he might become more and more unnerved, more distant, more uncomfortable around you. If you cross that line for him, the breaking point would be something random. As big as getting arrested (him or you? Whichever you decide) or as small as forgetting to grab him a straw when he asked. He knows your relationship isn’t healthy… but he’s a loyal guy. He’s attached at that point. So… it’s not impossible to get yourself back on his good side.

Call him sick or whatever, but he wouldn’t mind a S/O that has a tendency for… elimination. Anyone he truly cares about is immortal, so your homicidal tendencies are no real threat. All he chooses to see it as is fatal dedication. You’re really willing to go that far for him? Wow, he’s real flattered.  (And the sight of you covered in blood? Christ.)

Arthur is… well… he’s always been a bit unconventional at heart, and he’s glad you are too. If anything, your obsession is nothing more than an ego boost. Unless you want him bending to your will, in which case you’re going to be sadly mistaken.

Because of that, he’s unlikely to cut off a Yandere S/O quickly, if at all. Even the creepy and disgusting things that would bother most don’t make him see you any differently. Even if you show up on his doorstep covered in blood, he’ll just invite you in for a nice dinner date. (But not if you bring a body. That implicates him, you know? It’s too much damn paperwork…) The only line Arthur has is that you don’t end up turning on him. The moment you start getting bored, or get mad at him for something trivial, the facade is over. If it’s only been a short while, he’ll break up with you. If it’s been any more… well… you’re about to be on the receiving end of your own behaviour.

Because of that, he would love a Yandere S/O that worships him. He’s willing to give you all the adoration and attention you deserve, satisfying your every sick craving, as long as he’s the one calling the shots. He just can’t get enough of the lovesick look in your eyes, doing everything he can to keep you as obsessed with him as possible.

Eh… he really wouldn’t enjoy a Yandere S/O. He believes that love should be freeing and beautiful! And whatever you feel for him… it’s definitely not that. He doesn’t mind your devotion sometimes but it’s suffocating! (And occasionally terrifying…)

Despite that, it would take a lot for him to cut you off. When it comes to you, he’s very, very tolerant. Even when you make him wildly uncomfortable with your obsession, he just can’t bring himself to break your heart. As you become nothing like the person he fell in love with, stalking him, threatening his friends, cutting him off from the outside world, he still loves you deep down. The only reason he might break up with you is just because your obsession with him has meant you lost all other personality. If all you can talk about is him, what’s the point.

The kind of Yandere S/O that he would like most is a manipulative one, though. For the most part, he doesn’t notice. And when he does, he doesn’t care too much. Most of the time what you want for him is what he wants for himself anyway. If anything, it just makes your whole relationship a performance. And isn’t that meaningful in its own way?

Ugh, you’re cute and all, but Yao does not have the energy to deal with you threatening everyone he knows. Sure, you can worship him or whatever, as long as you aren’t messing with the rest of his life, ok?

Even though he doesn’t mind your obsessive behaviours at home, he really can’t stand them in public. If you end up disrupting his daily life with your yandere tendencies one too many times, he has no issues cutting you off. You may be completely head over heels for him, but that fact only makes him love you less. It’s too easy… and it gets creepy a lot. Besides, it’s like he has to worry about you hurting him. If you stabbed him for breaking up with you, it’d just be embarrassing more than anything else.

Although he does have one Yandere trait he would like just the littlest bit. You making him feel isolated. Mainly because he isn’t truly isolated. All of your antics are nothing more than a game to him. He sees you cutting off all his contacts as romantic more than anything. In reality, he still has family and power, but you want him all to yourself, how cute. Maybe he’ll bring you a lonesome weekend retreat with him, so it’s just the two of you for once, just as a treat.

Ivan has plenty of experience already with Yanderes, and he would be less than enthused if his S/O turned out to be one. Thankfully for you, as much as he hates it, it’s not a complete dealbreaker.

And luckily for you, he’s a yandere in his own special way, so he wouldn’t be likely to cut you off. Most of your more toxic behaviours go right over your head since he’s used to being on the receiving end of them anyway. When you’re completely obsessed with him, he doesn’t even realize it. Only because he’s just as obsessed with you in the first place! The only thing that might really scare him away is once you start saying things Belarus has said about him. And once that happens, his illusion of your perfection falls away. Once you start banging down his door like she does, your relationship is as good as done.

That being said, he’d like an overly submissive S/O in that way. When you worship him and beg for his approval, it makes him feel more loved than anything else could. Most people want him as far away as possible, but you don’t! And it’s more than he could ever wish for. Whatever reward you want from him, you’ve got it.

[itzpris15634]

Apparition (ft. Sunil, Pepper, and Penny)

“Penny?” Sunil slowly pushed the door to his friend’s apartment open. The fact that it was even unlocked concerned him a little bit, but perhaps Penny purposefully left it like that since he was coming over, “It’s me! Sunil! …Hello? Your… door was unlocked.”

Sunil hung his dripping wet raincoat on the coat rack, taking a look around the apartment. On his way here, he did overhear some of Penny’s neighbors complain about the blackouts. He figured that Penny’s apartment wasn’t spared.

Lightning flashed outside and heavy rain banged on the apartment’s windows. A weird chill went up and down his spine… but he tried to shrug it off.

Using what little of the moonlight came through the window, Sunil was about to make his way to the couch so he could sit and wait. Penny would be out soon, right? She could be taking a nap, or preparing the treats in the kitchen. In the dark. Or whatever.

All of a sudden, lightning flashed and the boom of thunder outside… revealed a tall, glowing ghost towering over him.

“ACK!”

He slowly scooted into the corner, hoping the spirit wouldn’t notice him. Maybe he could wait it out and hide?

Unfortunately for him, that would not be the case. With each flash of lightning from outside, the ghostly apparition seemed to step closer and closer to his position…

“NO! PLEASE!” Sunil’s shaky arms came up to shield his face.

This was it. Whatever spirit he had triggered, it was out to get him. His fate was in its ghostly hands. What kind of fate? Was he going to be dragged to the underworld? Or be possessed?!

Suddenly, however, he heard the sound of… cackling?

“Oh, you really are too to scare, huh? Kinda makes me feel sorry for you!”

Is that Pepper’s voice?!

The lights in the apartment turned back on, and Sunil could more clearly make out the sights around him.

Looming over him was Pepper, pulling a white bedsheet off her body.

“I would say that I can’t believe you fell for the classic bedsheet ghost, but then again? This is you we’re talking about,” Pepper placed a hand on her hip as she discarded the white cloth to the side.

Sunil could only stare, processing the shock of it all.

“You just gonna keep staring, Nevla? Come on, whatchu gonna say?”

His initial response came out in a mess of nervous sputtering, but the first few clear words he managed were, “P-P-Pepper! Not funny!”

“Aw c’mon, it’s a little bit funny! To me.”

“I thought we discussed this already, did we not?! I do not enjoy being startled.”

“But it’s been so long! Can’t I just squeeze a couple more scares out of you? Pleeaaaase?”

“For your own selfish enjoyment? I think not.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Nevla…”

“It’s just- I- Why are you even here!? Penny didn’t tell me she was gonna have anyone else over too!”

“Simple! Penny texted me over to taste test her new pastries. You sure she didn’t tell you? Cause she sure did tell me.”

“Uhm…” Sunil brought out his phone to check his texts. Opening the text app, he opened Penny’s contact and read the text he was already familiar with.

littlemissling: heya sunil! I got a few new pastries, and i want you to come over and try them! be quick, so theyre still warm when you get here!

But under it, there was a new one she sent that he left unread.

littlemissling: oh, yeah, pepper will be there too! if i’m not there to open the door, she will be because she has the keys to my place. but i promise i’ll see you both :))

“Penny uh… Penny did send a message, but I didn’t read it until now… Where is Penny, anyway?”

A new voice called out, “Here!”

“AH!”

Both Pepper and Sunil jumped at the voice, taking to hiding behind the couch.

As they carefully peeked over the couch’s back, they instantly recognized the figure at the door.

“Penny?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to keep you guys waiting!” Penny exclaimed as she shut the door to her place, “I wanted to take a few of these to Minka first, since she does live pretty close to me. But then we got a bit carried away talking about her art! And its just- oh, forgive me!”

“No uh- no issue really! No issue at all.” Pepper insisted

“Of course. We’re always willing to wait for you, Penny Anything for you, in fact!” Sunil smiled through gritted teeth.

Penny walked past the two, in the direction of her kitchen, “You know, I do hope you two have been nice to each other while waiting for me! Maybe having a little small talk, or catching up…”

From behind Penny’s back, Sunil and Pepper glared at each other.

Yeah. Sure.

===

Day 25: spirit

played with the spacing a little bit here. just a bit

[eisukevint]

Amygdala

Pairing: mamoru kishi x reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: tw/domestic violence, cursing, sa, abuse

a/n: i tried to keep the actual violence parts to a minimum, it can be really triggering! anyways, it was asked by an anon some time ago im so ashamed of myself for doing it so late so here it is. and as always, @hellocupie my favourite proof reader always helps me pull through my writer’s block.

…

…Nine

You counted mentally as put ointment on your fresh bruises

…Ten

Except, however you turned your legs, a barrage of bright scabs followed your eyes, painted in gorgeous shades of blue and purple.

You flinched as one hurt particularly bad. Putting aside the medical box, you almost stumbled when you got up. Regaining your balance you walked into the bathroom and analyzed your face.

“That bastard’s clever.”

You whispered under your breath as the only thing still safe and free of injuries on your body was your face except for one eye. You couldn’t go down to grab an ice bag. No, absolutely not. That man still would’ve been in the kitchen, drinking and eroding away.

You wanted to be free. There was nothing you wouldn’t give to be steer free of this torture cell that wasn’t even worthy of calling a home.

01:00 a.m.

There was still a timid little child rooted in you somewhere that was afraid of roaming the streets at this hour. All kinds of creeps hung out in the dark streets, especially at this hour of the night. It wasn’t easy sneaking out, but food, however, was still a priority and you hadn’t more than a slice of stale bread in two days.

Pulling your hood up, you walked into the 24 hour convenience store. Strawberry milk and two cups of ramen would do it, right?

You stuffed one cup under your hoodie, hoping the part-timer hadn’t noticed. Reaching the door, you made a dash for it but the guy working in the store caught on to your antics. Before you could even get away you smashed straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up, your eyes connected with grey orbs. You wanted to move back but the part-timer was right behind you.

…

“I told you I was hungry! I’ve never did this thing in my entire life, please believe me.” Pleading to the cop in the grey suit, you put your hands together in forgiveness, hoping for him to let you go.

“That still doesn’t give you an excuse to shoplift. Tell me either of your parent’s phone numbers if you don’t want to end up in juvy.” The man in grey said as he held you captive. You couldn’t risk your father knowing about this. Starvation won’t be the only cause of your demise if that happened.

“Please, I’m not lying. I haven’t eaten in over two days. All I wanted was some food in my stomach. I’ll never do this again!” Right on cue, your stomach grumbled and you pointed at it to prove your point.

It was at that moment when your hood pulled back a bit when the officer finally got a good look at your face. The purple bruising on the left side of your face definitely wasn’t from a stumbling into a pole, if that was the excuse you were gonna give him.

“What gave you that black eye?” He asked while he sat you on the stool outside the store, the part-timer back at the counter.

Your brain hollowed. Eyes dilated and breathing erratic. He wasn’t supposed to know about this. Not if you wanted a roof over your head. Playing it cool, you dismissed his question,

“That’s none of your business, officer.” You leaned on the table and the bearded man raised an eyebrow.

“I’m an officer of law, kid. It is my business.” He countered.

“Oh yeah? Says who?”

“The law.”

You couldn’t argue with that so you pursed your lips as you saw the faintest ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Wait right here and don’t you dare run away. I’ll still catch you.” He said as he disappeared into the store. You obviously didn’t want to get yourself into more trouble so you waited obediently.

Five minutes later, the man emerged from the store with two cups of your favourite ramen, the one you almost stole earlier, and a carton of choco milk. He placed one in front of you and took his place in the stool opposite to you. It was odd but you wouldn’t turn away free food.

“I wanted strawberry milk...” You said, breaking apart the chopsticks.

The officer slurped his and shot you a glare, “Be grateful. I don’t do this for everyone.” You glared back but continued to eat without further protest.

You made it safely back to your room after bidding goodbye to the officer and evading your father. With a full stomach, you slept well for the first time in weeks.

…

It has become a part of your daily routine now. You escape out of the house without your father catching on and having late night dinners with Mamoru outside the convenience store. He’d treat you to dinner or buy you little snacks which you initially refused until Mamoru forced them in your hands. You learned his name a week ago when he showed you his police card. In return, he asked yours.

He saw the scabs and scars on your arms and legs every now though except he never asked about them. He had seen enough victims of domestic violence before to figure out what was happening but he didn’t want to pry until you were ready to open up to him and you appreciated that.

You two often argued about him walking you to your house.

“I’m not a kid!” Your nose flared as you glared at him.

“Please, you’re the size of a munchkin. How are you not a kid?” Mamoru folded his arms.

“I’M SIXTEEN, I CAN WALK HOME ALONE.”

“You just proved my point, hence, you can’t go alone. Let’s go.” He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you with him. You eventually gave in and he walked you home from that point, leading to him learning your address. You were more than glad to find that your father wasn’t home nor asleep whenever Mamoru was outside your door.

…

Mamoru was worried. It had been six days. Six days since your last meet up. He waited late into the night hoping you’d show up but you didn’t. His texts were left on read and calls weren’t being answered. It was possible you were just busy with school work but it had never been this quiet on your end.

You were never open to him actually learning about your family so Mamoru only sought for help through his connections. His assumptions about your bruises hung over his head like a bad omen and he couldn’t shake off the bad feeling.

He found a little sister in the 16 year old that he never had. He had to find out what was going on in that house and if there was any person who was good at infiltration, it was Mitsunari Baba. When Mamoru explained to Baba why he had to go look for a teenager, he was baffled. But Baba had never seen the man look more distressed in all the time he has known him. So Baba took time out of his busy schedule to help the man and his little friend out.

…

The clock read 11:30, but you couldn’t figure out how long you’ve been lying in the kitchen, blood seeping out from every inch of your body. Your mind kept recalling all the events from an hour ago.

Your pathetic excuse of a father had just gotten home from God knows where. The awful stench of booze could be sensed from a mile away and that was your signal to make your escape. You wish, oh how you wish you hadn’t decided to lay down in the living room for a normal evening for the first time in a while. Before you could run off to the comfort of your room, your father grabbed you roughly by the hair and pulled you towards him.

“Now where are you running off to, huh!?” He uttered with a manic face. You knew what it meant and you wanted nothing more than to stay away from this man.

“You’re just a little whore, a whore like your slut mother who ran off with another dude for some dick!” He struck you across the face as he spat. Clenching your fist, you closed your eyes and endured whatever shit he threw at you.

“Now look at you! You’re running away at nights doing whatever the hell that whore did! The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, I guess. You thought I wouldn’t find out?” Your eyes widened in absolute horror when you heard that. At this point, he had already grabbed the golf club, your body being the recipient of his repetitive strikes.

“Do you get money for it too? You look plumper for someone who barely eats the food she’s given. You ungrateful wench, is the food I put on your plate not enough?”

He struck you in your stomach. You thought of the stale bread and the beer cans in the refrigerator. What food was he talking about?

“...Or do you enjoy getting fucked by men twice your age?”

This time, he aimed for your legs. Your battered and bloodied self could barely hold on to the last of the strength and you ended up collapsing on the wooden floor.

He grabbed the collar of your shirt and yanked you upwards. “You know, whenever I fucked the brains out of your stupid mother, she always stayed home like an obedient bitch. You’re the filth that came out of that shameless slut, it shouldn’t be difficult getting you on the same page.” You tried to lift your hands and swat his hands away when he puts them on your thigh, but failed. You wanted to vomit.

It was too much. You thought of everything that built up to this moment. You thought of Mamoru. You thought of the food he bought you because you were hungry. You thought of the warm hugs he gave you when you felt down. Even though this disgusting man continued his assault on you, you tried to think of the limited happy things in your life so you wouldn’t feel as bad as you leave this miserable life behind.

…

Baba was prepared to break the window to get in if he had to but he was quite surprised to see the back door of the house unlocked. He expected a shabby house but the state of the house was rather immaculate. His awe was short-lived when he stepped into the living room.

Blood. So much blood, he could hardly believe his eyes.

His eyes widened beyond belief when his gaze landed on you sprawled across the floor. Are you even breathing? He thought as he crouched down to check your pulse so he breathed a sigh of relief when he could hear your silent breathing. It was slow and soft but it was there. Your body was littered with bruises, most of them looked fresh and some, a few days old. He could hear water running somewhere upstairs and he couldn’t let this go on anymore.

Mamoru was devastated when Baba reported everything to him. How could he let something so big like this happen right under his nose? He had so many opportunities to help you, to pry the information out of you. But he resisted it all for your sake, and in the end, all he felt was regret. He had to resist the urge to destroy the man who had done this to you. But right now, his priority was you. Your safety and your well being so he did everything in his power to get you out of that hell.

…

You could barely make out the scene before you. You peeled your ears open to hear what they were saying but it was all so hazy. People dressed in police uniform were placing handcuffs on your father’s wrists while you felt yourself being carried in someone’s arms. It was a warm embrace and it felt familiar.

What’s going on?

You wanted to ask, but your hazy mind didn’t allow you, and you succumbed to the protection that the arms holding you provided.

When you opened your eyes, Mamoru was the last person you had expected to see in front of you. A nurse tended to all of your injuries, the injuries that your rotten father had cruelly inflicted on you. Mamoru was speaking with someone but this time you could make out some of the words they were saying.

Once the nurse was done treating you, Mamoru walked up to you. You didn’t mean to, but you unintentionally flinched. You didn’t want him to see you in this state. He understood that but it was all he needed in order to reassure himself that you were alright. You were okay, alive and breathing so he hugged you with all his might until you had to smack his arm to push him away.

He ended up telling you about how he got a call from your neighbour, a neighbour you don’t remember having, hearing thrashing noises from your house and immediately reported it to the police the moment he saw you lying in the lounge when he decided to check it out. Baba’s disguise had worked yet again and he was more delighted than anyone that his skills had actually saved someone’s life this time.

You were still terrified.

Years and years worth of abuse you had to endure had just come to an end and your brain could not keep up. What if he came after you? What if all of this was just one of the delusions you had cooked up when you had tried imagining yourself in a much better life? Your thoughts were quickly pulling you into that dark place again but Mamoru was there to drag you away from the pit of darkness you were living in. He believed he could and you allowed him to. You had just come to love him as an older brother, someone you could rely on so when you heard him utter the words ‘everything will be okay’ for the first time in years, you let your tears fall freely.

[lover-of-skellies]

Really enjoying your ratings and your reasonings behind them. Great work!

Would you be able to rate Geno, please?

I've actually done both Sci and Lust already, and you can click on their names to go to the original posts if you're curious about them ^^ and I’m glad you guys seem to be enjoying these smooch-ability rating things!

Alrighty, after some thought and consideration, I’d say Geno gets a smooch-ability rating of 9. He’s still pretty safe, but if you surprise him, he wouldn’t be too happy about it. Smooches could also get a little gross, with his constant mouth bleeding and all, but if you wanted to overlook that and go in for a smooch anyway, be my guest

1) How dangerous is Geno’s mouth? In and of itself, not very. His teeth are flat, as opposed to being sharp or jagged, meaning there’s less risk of your lips being snagged or cut on them. 2 points for having safe chompers. I’d say the fact that he’s glitched could result in a sting or a zap (like it might with Error) upon smooching him, but he doesn’t seem to be nearly as glitched as Error does. In comparison, he’s still pretty solid

2) Would he bite, and is he aggressive? I’m inclined to believe that Geno may possibly be a biter; the chance of it happening is small, but still a bit more noticeable than it’d be with Sans Classic, for example. As for his aggression, I’d say he’s a little bit more moody and temperamental than his original UT counterpart (likely due to a mix of trauma, possible resentment toward certain individuals, him being from a genocide timeline, and his whole thing with Determination), but not as moody and temperamental as someone like UF Papyrus or Error. He knows how to keep himself in line and relaxed, and the only chance of that self control slipping would probably be if something or someone happened to set him off or trigger him. Since he’s relatively tame but still carries a slight chance of lashing out, I’d say he gets 1 point for this area

3) Are there any health hazards to the smoocher? Quite possibly. While he doesn’t carry around a weapon regularly that could cause accidental injury, he is very adept with magic. We know he has no qualms against using magic when necessary, so if he somehow felt threatened, he could use magic and sort of act on impulse to defend himself. Beyond that, blood constantly drips from his mouth and he has that big gash across his chest area. Blood, no matter what race or species it’s from, could very well be a biohazard. Taking that into consideration and the fact that kissing someone and getting their blood all over you is uh… pretty gross, I’m gonna have to give him 0 points

4) Does he have a sympathetic backstory? He went through all the same stuff as Sans Classic (raising his brother, working multiple odd jobs to financially support both of them, caring for Frisk/the player, being the only one to know about the resets, and being the one to watch judgement hall), which already gets him a small amount of sympathy on its own. That’s not all he ends up having to suffer through, though. In a horrifying turn of events, the player/Frisk decides to go on a murderous rampage and kills every monster they come across, which would’ve been a big betrayal to him. He repeatedly has to experience the death of everyone he’s loved and cared about every time they reset, then out of a desire to stop them for good, he starts experimenting with Determination (from what I remember reading). My memory of the events of Aftertale are a bit fuzzy since it’s been a while since I’ve read the comic, but through a series of events, I know he somehow gets trapped in the save screen and is unable to leave. The game goes on without him, spawning in a new Sans, and he’s just. Doomed to forever be stuck and unable to leave or communicate with anyone. While I believe Aftertale does give him a neutral or happy ending after a while, the fact that he went through so many tragic events back to back and probably has an insane amount of trauma from all of it gains him a full 2 points for sympathy

5) Does Geno deserve a smooch? After everything he’s done and been through, and all horrifying things he’s been forced to endure, yeah, I’d say he’s pretty deserving of a smooch. 2 more points for him

6) Is he cute or cool? I’m not sure if I’d call him cutesy, because when the pixels over his bad eye vanish, we’re left with this disfigured, melted half of his head (some depictions of him have a melted head, others just have the melted socket) and a socket that’s beyond repair. Which, if you were another skeleton seeing that, that on its own would probably be nightmare inducing. In terms of coolness though, I’d say he could be passing; he’s got this very laidback and chill personality, he doesn’t take shit from anyone, he’s incredibly strong and skilled with magic despite the condition that his body and soul are in, and he’s a fighter. He’s got a lot of trauma and obvious issues that need to be worked out, sure, but overall, I’d say it’s pretty cool that he’s willing to keep fighting, again, despite the shape his body are soul themselves are in because of the things he’s gone through. His design is simple, but it’s effective at conveying what he went through, from the blood on his slippers, the gash on his chest, him having pixels over one eye, and him wearing the scarf of his deceased brother, he’s unique, and pretty easily identifiable. 2 points for coolness

In total, Geno gets a rating of 9. If you absolutely needed to kiss him, you could, but you might end up covered in his blood, which isn’t exactly ideal. Since he’s a bit standoffish, he might not be too thrilled about a surprise smooch, but I can’t see him being the type to cause serious injury over it. At worst, he’d probably get super intimidating and tell you never to do that ever again

[lulutaylorsimaginarium]

The Chain

Summary: When the guys get stuck in a situation and hunted down by a drug lord. Frankie makes a call he really doesn’t want to make to the only person that can help them

Words:1,834

Warnings: “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the right age to handle mature themes. We handle our own triggers with kindness and grace

AN: Mind any grammar mistakes even though the story has been checked. The author is dyslexic and it is the wonders of her brain.

PART ONE

PART TWO 

She sat at the bar in an empty, hole in the wall watering hole listening to a song that she danced to in Havana years ago. It put her in a better mood thinking of the man she danced with. The man that had stolen her heart even though she hadn’t wanted to fall in love. The song and the memory of the man lessened the rage in the very same heart. She started to sway to the music with an impossibly sweet drink in her hand. Gabby couldn’t forget the predicament she was in and of course there was the man sitting beside her, sipping his beer

“Why don’t you drink?”

“Allergic reaction”

“Oh yeah?”

“I break out in hand cuffs”

Will didn’t believe her, but he let her get away with the lie. There was no doubt that Gabby was tough, but she wasn’t the normal type of tough. It wasn’t a rage filled tough. It was a stubbornness. It was a ‘watch me’ tough but as she sat beside him dancing to the music while still sitting her seat. She intrigued him.

“What’s with that smile?”

“Memories”

“Oh-uh”

“Knew a guy”

“Cuban?”

“Puerto Rican but we spent a lot of time in Cuba”

“Dancing in the streets?”

“Yeah. In Cuba, in Barcelona, Portugal”

“So he was smooth, huh?”

“You could say that” she laughed “Still is”

“What happened?”

“He’s an aid worker. It’s hard to keep a relationship going when you’re pulling people out of the pits a hell half the time and on the other side of the planet”

“I don’t know how you do it”

“I only did it for a moment in time. I’m too empathic. It took a lot out of me. Especially when we came across kids, you know? I want to adopt ‘em and take them all home. It doesn’t work that way”

“Now you organise?”

“Correct”

“I can see why Pope needs you. Even if he is an ass”

Gabby laughed pulling the tie out of her hair. The colour reminded him of a glass of red wine or maybe that was the green neon sign above her that was making it look that way.

“He is right about one thing”

“What’s that?”

“I do owe Frankie”

“From what I know. Which isn’t a lot. He was doing his job when he found you”

“No but he broke protocol. They deemed the mission too high risk. Especially where I was but he still did it. He could have been fired or lost everything. He didn’t even know me at the time”

“He wouldn’t have it any other way Gabby. He loves ya”

“Ugh” she sighed rubbing her forehead “Why did it have to be Costa Rojas?”

“We didn’t pick the target”

“Santiago did”

“Are you noticing a theme?”

“At least Costa’s base isn’t in Brazil. You’ve got some distance. How did you move the palettes anyway?”

“We had transit vans but the guys driving got shot up and so did the vans”

“So he dropped you off in the slums with that much money”

“No one living there would be dumb enough to steal it. Rojas knows that. They are also smart enough that if they see something they know thats not for them to know. They’re not going to talk”

“You’ve got me there”

“Did you really stab Andrews with a pocket knife?” he laughed asking

“He grabbed my ass repeatedly after I asked him not to do it. Damn straight I did”

“Why didn’t you tell Frankie?”

“I wanted Andrews to stop. I didn’t want him to die. Anyway. That was a long time ago”

“Even Pope would have stopped him” She gave him an epic eye roll which only made Will practically fall over laughing  “What is it with you two?”

“I don’t know. I swear I’ve tried to get along with him. I swear but he does shit like this. He thinks he’s smarter than everybody. God, even his breathing sometimes grates on me. He’s the most self-important jerk I’ve ever met”

“We’re not meaning to turn your life upside down, Gabs”

“But didn’t you guys do this a few years ago. How much money is enough money?”

“We didn’t keep it, babe”

“What are you talking about?”

“We gave the money we did get away with to Tom’s kids. They don’t have to worry about anything anymore”

She looked him wide eyed and silent for maybe the first time since she landed.  Gabby shook her head before a stream of swear words flew out of her mouth.

“I hate this and now I hate you”

“Is that a yes?”

“I just don’t know how I can help you”

Will nodded his head understood where she was coming from. He got why she didn’t want to use anything with the non-profits name on it. They helped people that really needed it.

“We’re up a creek”

“Walking away isn’t an option?” she asked

“Nope”

“God damn it”

They’ll have to hide it and then move it and hide it while moving it. If Rojas found out their end wouldn’t be swift. She didn’t want that on her head. She needed something that the locals and authorises wouldn’t bat an eye at. She needed transportation and she needed it fast. Will watched the clogs in her head move fast, impossibly fast

“Gabs?”

She covered his mouth with her hand

 “Shh, I’m thinking”

She moved her hand and grabbed her phone before walking outside.

He watched her walk back and forth in the sidewalk for a while. Making calls, looking up this on her phone she popped her head back in the door.

“Hey handsome, do you know how to hot wire a car?”

“Yes”

“Let’s go but it’s not going to be a quick trip”

Will didn’t ask any questions. He just did what he was told. With women like Gabby that was the safest way to survive. That was truth in Will’s experience, at least.

 

 

#

 

Gabby and Will had been gone for five hours, the sun was dangerously close to rising and there hadn’t been no word from either of them. They knew that Will wouldn’t leave them, well he wouldn’t leave Benny. Frankie was starting to worry and Santiago was starting to curse her name, in his head at least.

“What if Rojas caught up with them?” Benny voice all their fears

“We would have heard by now” Santiago lied

“I shouldn’t have called her, Pope”

“Well, you did Frank and here we are. Will wouldn’t jump ship”

“Either would she, man”

“We have to come up with another plan”

“They will be here” Benny told them.

Suddenly an old beat up people mover stopped outside the favela. Two squeaky doors shut loudly before the missing two were standing back in their doorway

“Honey, we’re home” she told them slightly seductively

“Where have you been?”

“Cleaning up your mess, Garcia. You bozos wanna come help us unload?” She tossed an empty hessian coffee bean sack at him “We are in Brazil after all”

“What if they cut them open, Gabriela?”

“That’s why we stole full bags of coffee bean Also. Place the real beans on top of the bags full of money. They’ll cut into the bags we want to them to cut into”

“Two more van are showing up at five thirty this afternoon. So we have to move” Will told them.

“Leave ten grand out of the bags for the vans”

“Ten?”

“Yeah Garcia. For five grand we were going to get endless questions. Ten grand brought silence. You okay with that?”

“Guess I have to be”

“That’s what I like. Gratitude”

She rolled her eyes as he walked outside. Frankie stepped in front of her before pulling her into a hug

“Thank you”

“You’re still in trouble but I love you”

They both walked outside holding on to each other for dear life. Everybody quietly unpacked the van of empty bags. The tension that they had all been choking on was leaving them but Santiago just couldn’t help himself

“Where are we going to take this coffee when we are finished here, oh wise one?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet”

“If only someone knew some else in Puerto Rico” Will answered almost gleefully

“Nope”

“Sebastian” Frankie answered pointing at her

“No. We are not getting Seb involved”

“He would do it, Gab”

“Who’s Sebastian” Pope practically spat

“Her fella” Frankie teased

“He’s not my fella”

“Used to be”

“I don’t know where he is right now. He’s an aid worker for Christ’s sake. He could be anywhere”

“Could you find out though?” Will smiled.

“If any person is more connected than you. Its Seb” Frank pleaded

Gabby rolled her eyes before pulling her phone out of her pocket, playfully growling as she walked outside.

The group started packing the bags with cash as Santiago stood near the window, listening to the conversation. Her voice was softer, you could hear the affection as she spoke. That was until she walked around the corner.

He walked over to Frankie

“Can we trust this guy?”

“Absolutely”

“I don’t like it”

“We are going to need more people to get this home and he would do anything for her. He’s a good guy. You wanted her for her connections, right?”

There was an uncomfortable silence filled the room as they continued loading the cash. Before she was standing in the doorway again.

“Bad news is that he is in Honduras. Good news is that if we can get to Venezuela. He can store it for us until we make other plans”

“How much did you tell him?” Santiago asked, probably sharper than he intended

“I said that we are in trouble, and it was a no questions situations”

No one said anything.

She hadn’t slept, she was at the end of her tether and likely to blow. Instead of sleeping, she packed bags with cash.

#

There were three beat up, different colours vans rolled up at five thirty. Gabby paid an elderly man the money and waited until they were long gone before the guys packed the vans.  She lent up against the green building. She tried to help the guys carry the bags, but the guys weren’t having any of it.

Once everything was carefully packed. Dummy coffee beans placed on top and around, they all felt a tiny bit better. Maybe it was being on the move that made them feel safer. There was still just under five days of driving ahead of them.

Although the thought of seeing Sebastian at the end of all of it made her feel better.

She was pale, she was tired, and she was trying to cover it. 

Everybody piled into the vans before Frankie stood in front of her picking her up at the knees, tossing her over his shoulder

“I wanna drive”

“No way. You haven’t slept in a day. Forget it. You’re a passenger, Princess”

“Ugh” 

He placed her in the car and she was asleep by the time they left the city

[maddiviner]

Hey I saw your posts about the Simulation/Matrix cult. I can’t find them myself but I’m wondering if they had any opinion on being trans, since the movie was created by trans women and had references to that?

The simulation cult isn’t a cult in the traditional sense, at least not yet. 

It’s just a bunch of people who, for whatever reason, are drawn to the idea that we’re “in the Matrix” and want to spew about it. I guess in five or ten years, someone with charisma could show up and start a proper cult out of it? Thus far, it’s super toxic, but they argue too much to count as a cult, I’d say. Cults are typically more controlling. Toxic ideas? Sure. Cult? Nah, not so far.

To answer your question, though, most of the simulation conspiracy theory folks are virulent bigots, I’ve noticed, particularly with regards to LGBTQ issues. This is probably why the Wachowski sisters very rarely get mentioned. This is despite using terms like “Mr. Smith, “Matrix,” etc culled from the film the duo made.

In some cases there’s comments and posts seemingly treating the movie as some kind of documentary almost. 

Their fascination with it is very surface-level, mostly concerned with the plot rather than any symbolism or (oddly) deeper meaning. If you really look at the movie, there’s a lot to chew on, but they’re not really doing that. 

At one point, someone in the Facebook groups tried to read some of the works of Jean Baudrillard, because the Wachowskis put his book in the film. That didn’t go well because apparently Baudrillard makes no sense to them. I’m not saying I myself understand Baudrillard , but like… c’mon, if this is so important, put in some effort, people…

I’ve seen some of ‘em say that they believe the Wachowski sisters weren’t trans to begin with, but that the simulation rewrote itself and the past to “discredit” them by adding that. Others have simply claimed that The Matrix wasn’t actually made by the duo - their name was put on it for nefarious purposes, presumably, again, to “discredit” the film’s message? 

It doesn’t make a lot of sense, like most conspiracy theories. If we’re in a simulation that’s so closely-controlled, why allow the movie to be made at all? Especially if it’s supposedly so close to being a “documentary” of the truth? 

Anyways, they tend to roll their general bigotry into the simulation theory stuff, too. The programmers of the simulation, the bad guys/robots/NPCs, whatever, tend to be whoever the person feels like targeting.

One guy commented that “the LGBTQs are all Smiths cuz if you simply disagree with them, they will cancel you.” Right next to a .gif of Mr. Smith from that film made by the Wachowski sisters. This is why aliens don’t talk to us, pretty sure. 

By this, he meant that he saw LGBTQ folks as de facto NPCs, particularly the evil sort actively controlled by the programmers. He likely wouldn’t have been able to describe what he meant by “cancel” or name one genuine bad thing that’d happened for him for “disagreeing.” 

In another thread, I saw someone comment that the religion-based discussions popping up on the group “don’t really engender much good discussion.” A guy saw the word engender, I guess, and assumed it meant something to do with gender. He popped back with some business about how “…you can’t engender things! Are you TRIGGERED by that?” I think someone eventually linked him to the definition of engender. I can only assume he’s still recovering from the shame of that moment. 

A lot of these people were probably right wing to begin with, probably had a conspiracy theorist streak to begin with. But still, it reads like their personalities and political beliefs formulated around 2011-2013 and they never grew any further. I gotta say that had to have been the first time in ages I’d heard that “lol triggered” thing used non-ironically. 

So yes. The simulation theory people are massive transphobes. Are you surprised? I wasn’t.

I’m considering abandoning this little project of lurking these groups because they’re starting to affect the way the Facebook algorithm feeds the rest of my account - I’m seeing more right-wing stuff.

I recognize and ignore/block it, but it’s there and annoying, and frustrating because there’s nothing I can do besides that.

It’s not like I’m skilled enough to change anyone’s mind about these deeply-held conspiracy theories. I don’t enjoy watching online train wrecks for their own sake. I get that some people do, but it seems unhealthy.

I ended up in these groups because I have epilepsy, and references to it in the groups themselves caused them to pop up on my feed (some of them think epilepsy, specifically, is a Matrix glitch - long story). 

I might dig into my settings and see about muting these groups for a while, just to get my feed a little more clean. I’m spending less and less time on Facebook, but there’s reasons for being there, I guess.

If it were only awful people on Facebook as a whole like that, I’d be outta the site in a heartbeat, but I got buddies still on there.

[zirawrites]

I had a random thought while scrolling through your old posts, and I was thinking about it and built a little on it, so I wanna know how Romanced Companions (with Gage) may react to running into a bunch of feral ghouls with Sole only for them to freeze up when they face the last standing ghoul, who's garbling something at Sole. When they get closer they can hear it garbling what sounded like a nickname (Maybe something like little cub/bear? Cause that's what my older siblings call me). If they try to shoot it sole stops them, and they go up to the ghoul, have some sort of emotional interaction before taking something from the ghoul (a trinket or necklace) and after they let the ghoul go they ask and learn that the ghoul was Sole's sibling from prewar?

Sole should have known from their clicking Pip Boy that the area was too irradiated -- and expected the dangers that always follow a trembling geiger counter. But they led their companion through the short-cut anyways, and both quickly found themselves surrounded. It was a bloody battle of glowing limbs torn from weathered sockets and inhuman howling from the feral ghouls, but both survivors managed to clear the path. Then Sole recognized the dog tags around the last ghoul’s neck, that familiar name they had shouted in games of tag and harmless arguments over the holidays. Their sibling. Maybe that was why the ghoul lingered for a moment, its glazed eyes flashing the briefest recognition before turning away and shambling down the hill.

Cait: Cait’s finger had never left her pistol’s trigger, even when Sole took a hesitant step towards the wayward ghoul. She swore the two mumbled something between themselves -- but no, that was impossible. Sole was eccentric -- and maybe a little crazy -- but not insane enough to chat with a feral. When Sole turned back to her, their eyes welled with tears. Cait lowered her gun and forced a hesitant smile. “Whatever ya think you saw, I think we can chock it up to radiation poisoning, love.” She slung her muscled arm around Sole’s shoulders and gently squeezed. “Lets get you some Radaway and sleep this off.”

Curie: Curie had read almost everything about radiation. She listened to hours of holotapes explaining how a ghoul could turn feral. It was their genetics, or too many rads absorbed at once, or just horrific luck. But a feral who could communicate? Curie wouldn’t have believed Sole if she hadn’t seen the two mumble something, and then watched the ghoul wander away without a fight. Curie knew prodding Sole about her hypothesis was callous, so instead she placed a gentle hand on their cheek. “I have many questions, but they do not need to be answered right now.” Then she paused, softly smiling. “Instead, please let me know if you need to talk.”

Danse: Danse was horrified Sole had lowered their gun in the presence of a feral, but his shock turned to disgust when the two shared soft whispers barely audible over the irradiated wind. When the ghoul turned to leave, Danse clicked his own gun off safety. Sole’s shoulders flinched to their ears, knowing they were helpless to stop him and trying to quickly drown the sound out. That was when Danse knew Sole had a connection to the feral. And no matter how much that sickened him, he loved Sole too much to upset them. “We’ll talk about this back at camp,” he said coolly. Surprisingly, they did not. Danse didn’t want to know any details.

Deacon: “Did you know that guy?” Deacon meant it as a joke, but his words were rough with unease. Sole turned to bury their face in the crook of his neck. He used one hand to stroke the back of their head, and the other to grip his pistol. Just because Sole had a connection to the feral didn’t mean Deacon would share the same sentiment. Anyone -- or anything -- who upset Sole wasn’t to be trusted.

Gage: Out of the many horrors Gage had seen in the Commonwealth -- Super Mutants pulling raiders out of their armor by their heads, settlers stabbing each other over a single box of Cram, drifters shooting up sludge they collected from irradiated gutters -- he’d never experienced a talking feral. Sole tried to explain it was their sibling, and he wanted to care. Truly, he did. But there was something so... wrong about the ghoul that he couldn’t hide his disgust. “Any other relatives I need to know about? Maybe you’ve got a half-Deathclaw uncle.” Sole snorted despite themselves, and Gage kissed their temple. “You’re always full of surprises, babe.”

Hancock: Hancock almost quipped that he didn’t know Sole had another ghoulfriend in their life, but the joke caught in his throat when Sole buried their face in their hands. He quickly pulled them to his chest and watched the feral ghoul wander into the shadows that stippled the Commonwealth like black lace. “Easy there, sweetheart. I speak ghoul, and that one really seemed to like you a lot.” He let Sole cry until they spent their tears, and then both walked hand-in-hand back to Goodneighbor.

MacCready: Nope, no way. MacCready was not letting another feral take the love of his life. He was a second from shooting its head clean off when Sole mumbled something to the ghoul, and it ducked away into the Wastes. “Did you just talk to that thing?” Sole explained it wore their sibling’s dog tags. Whether that meant they were related was left to be said; the feral’s face was beyond recognition from years of radiation. MacCready didn’t want to think about the exchange any longer. He tried to support Sole with kind words, but they fell flat on his tongue. He just hated ferals that much.

Preston: “I can’t believe it!” Preston stood with his hip touching Sole’s as they both watched the feral wander away. “Did that feral just speak to you? What’d they say?” Sole explained they believed it was their sibling. They had the same name. And -- in a bizarre way -- their eyes. “Oh, that’s unsettling.” Preston squeezed Sole’s arm. “If you need to talk about it, I’m here, babe.”

Piper: “Did that thing just talk?” A chill ripped up Piper’s spine. Sole had done some freaky stuff, but chat with a feral ghoul? Now she’d truly seen her partner do it all. “You sure that’s not a new invention from the Institute? They could be psyching you out. I mean, I’m sure they have your file from Vault-Tec...” She was utterly unhelpful, and more concerned about looking into the prospect of synth ghouls. Regardless, the two talked more about Sole’s sibling that night over a bottle of wine.

Nick: If Nick had the facial structure to scrunch his nose, his synthetic face would be one tight knot. He didn’t like hearing intelligible words coming from a feral ghoul, but it was better than the thing attacking Sole. When they explained it was their sibling, Nick’s heart dropped into his stomach. “Gosh, I’m real sorry to hear that. But if it helps, I think they recognized you.”

X6-88: X6 didn’t believe that was a real ghoul. If ferals could speak, the Institute would know about it. Regardless, he consoled Sole the best he could when they began crying over their long-lost sibling. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” He rubbed their back while his eyes scanned the horizon, anxious to see if the feral would return. “It isn’t safe to stay in a place this irradiated. But if you come back to camp, we can talk more about it.”

[jasminegazer]

Chapter 5 Part 1

‘What the hell just happened?’

This day wasn’t supposed to be filled with so much fear and shock. It was supposed to be an a ok normal day at school with her friends. But April was here comforting Leo as he fell apart after what must have been hours of keeping himself together. It was one of the things April both loved and hated about him. How he tries so hard to protect the people he cares about but forgets to take care of himself.

She had to help them figure this out. There must be something they can find if the turtles and April combined their strengths. They’ve done it once and they can and will do it again.

But right now April needed to let Leo go through his process and let himself feel like this. The same thing happened to April when she lost older family members too. You just need to let them ride out this feeling until you can help them move on.

She pulled him into a hug as the turtle boy’s sobs continued. Slowly turning to sniffles. And then unsteady deep breathing. April sprinkled in a few reassuring words and rubbed Leo’s shell as she comforted one of her best friends.

Even though the turtles and April shared an equal bond, something about her and Leo’s was special. Leo understood her more than his brothers did. He understood what it was like to truly hate how people treated others for something that wasn’t their fault to begin with.

It hadn’t been that long before Leo realized what happened.

“Oh god!” He shook his head and tried to wipe away the tears that were still streaming down his face, breaking their hug.Leo tried not to croak when he talked. “I’m so sorry April! I don’t know why I did that! I just-”

April squeezed his shoulder. “Hey Hey Hey it’s ok. You’re gonna be ok.” She looked into his eyes and tried to help pull out the calm confident smart Leo that she knew could help and fix this. That she and his family believed in. Just like during Superfly’s attack. Leo stepped up and inspired them all to push through their limits and save New York City.

Leo felt his confidence come back slowly and steadily as he finally felt the first wave of relief since last night. He didn’t care if he was blushing. Well he did but it wasn’t the most important thing. Getting help and regaining his strength to help Mikey was important. Even so it still felt great to be reminded that even though one of his brothers was in danger he still wasn’t alone. None of them were. Leo would make sure of that. “Thanks April. I uh I needed that.”

“No problem.” April and Leo stood there smiling at each other for a few awkward minutes before she cleared her voice ready to start their search for the youngest turtle brother. “Now if you don’t mind I have a million questions about what happened and how we’re gonna fix this.”

“Wait you’re gonna help. But I didn’t even as-”

“Leo. It would be insane if I didn’t help you guys.”

Looks of determination spread across their faces. The duo was back together ready to solve this mystery.

“Alright. Let’s get started.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After rushing through the school day and letting his brothers’ club mates know that they wouldn’t be able to come, Leo returned to the heart and soul of his and April’s research. The old school dark room. The very first room the turtles got to explore in an actual high school.

He told April everything about what happened. Though it wasn’t easy it didn’t exactly trigger him into another anxiety attack. How many had he had anyways? 3? 4?

‘Focus Leo. Finding Mikey is really important.’

“So let me get this straight.” April said this as she pointed to rough sketches she had created on the dry erase board. Notes were jotted down next to the doodles. “You and your brothers were attacked by several cloaked figures and they each had a foot sewn onto their clothing?”

Though it sounded ridiculous it was true.

“Yeah pretty much. We didn’t get much time to see them because of how fast they were. We tried to fight through them but. . .”

“Ok. Let’s not look at what happened let’s look at what we know. Are any of you guys hurt?” April needed Leo to stay with her. She didn’t know how many more panic attacks they could endure.

“Oh yeah. They fought really well. These guys weren’t your average New York street punks. It was like they were taught and trained like we were. But in a much less defensive way.” Leo thought back to Donnie’s hand. It was practically the color of his old bandanna. Raph’s nose had been bleeding along with his mouth and scratches that tore through his skin. Leo was left in a similar condition. Someone had definitely used a roundhouse kick on his hip.

“Yeesh these guys sound like they would NOT take no for an answer.” April grimaced as she thought about how badly those wounds would feel like.

“But that’s the thing. Who would want us? What do four teenage turtle mutants help someone do?” Plenty of weirdos had crossed the turtle brothers’ path. It wasn’t unusual for someone to treat them like freaks even though they did save New York and possibly the world. But he never saw someone truly hate them to the point of breaking the law and kidnapping them.

“And who would have the guts or the heart to hurt you guys? You saved the world! Sure you look a little different but what kind of psycho wouldn’t at least tolerate you guys. What kind of sick ill minded cold blooded son of a-” April’s ranting was dulled as Leo came to a realization.

‘Blood’

He was suddenly drawn back to the night right before Superfly’s big attack. When him and his brothers had failed to stop the giant bug man from taking the last piece of his twisted puzzle. When they had been driven off the side of a highway, knocked out, dragged, and hooked up to a horrible machine. A machine designed to become a vampire once turned on. Sucking the blood and life out of its victims- the mutant brothers.

‘“What I want is your blood. And there is only one way to get it.”’

“TCRI.” Leo whispered as the present slowly moved into his grasp.

April broke out of her rant and looked shocked at Leo. “What?”

“TCRI. That’s who would want us.” Leo spoke louder but still in a slow dazed state. “That’s who would want us. That’s who would and could hire trained warriors to hunt us down. They have Mikey.”

The two teenagers saturated in the fear stirring up their stomachs. Bending their minds over to fears will.

If Mikey was being taken for the reason Leo thought he was, their family of mutants, containing the mystery of the ooze in their DNA, was in deep shit now.

that’s another chapter for the collection

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