#but I still want my hunting buddy

[atelierlili]

I always wondered why Katniss factored marriage and children into the equation when it came to reciprocating Peeta’s feelings for her. It’s a rather large leap, especially when Peeta himself never expresses wanting children at any point in the story. He uses children as a tool to persuade Katniss and the Capital to save her life, but the only time we see him express any desire/feelings of having one of his own is when he’s crying after the baby bomb. But we never hear his real thoughts.

But you wanna know who does express wanting children? Gale.

It’s one of the first thing he mentions in chapter one. And it pisses her off so much.

(I also want to add that Gale reframes/establishes the dynamic of Katniss and him caring for their siblings from something that is sibling-sibling to parent-sibling. And he is not wrong. Katniss doesn’t refute him. Both Katniss and Gale are surrogate parents to their siblings. Which is also why Katniss love and affection of Prim, is not just sisterly. I’ve seen people say Katniss is only sisterly to Prim- but she’s not. She’s parentified their relationship to the point she subconsciously see Prim as her child, which makes this a tragedy because she’ll loose her first child no matter what she does by the end of the story.)

But Gale’s phrasing here elevates himself as a potential suitor to Katniss by placing them both as the parental roles to these children. (Which irritates her a lot ). Which is why she brings the topic up with her relationship with Peeta. Because she’s subconsciously aware of Gale’s efforts and knows it will be a point of contention between them. It hangs over her head in a way.

With Gale, children are extra mouths to feed. (But Gale will do fine. He can work. He can hunt.) It’s all framed with calculated survival in mind. But it’s also not something she had planned in the future at any point.

But Peeta’s children? Oh they deserve to be born because Peeta deserves to be a father. He would be such a good father. They deserve to exist in a world where they can be safe and happy. (Even if it’s not with her.)

This is also why I think she subconsciously sees Peeta’s baby as her own. And I don’t think of it as a cruel/heartless thing, it’s just you’d be more protective of your own child compared to someone else’s. Katniss sees Gale as a reliable person who’s equipped to look after a kid. She doesn’t express the same kind of maternal instinct/yearning for the Baby Hawthrone’s safety as she does with the idea of Baby Mellark, because she doesn’t think of Gale’s child as her own. She never hopes for a better future for them, but she does with Peeta because he and that baby gives her hope. And she loves him that much.

[whoslaurapalmer]

laura (1944) / laura by vera caspary -- baseball games

bonus still from a deleted scene where mark makes it to the game (with company) --

[arolesbianism]

Ok so I think I'm done collecting all of the oni logs straight from the files, but the somewhat sad news is that either the dr. Mason thing was either fixed at some point recently or it was an error on the wiki I never realized wasn't actually in game, since I saw in the code they're referred to as dr. Ross in that email and I just opened the game and what do you know, it's there too. I swear it had both last names last time I checked, but I could also easily be misremembering. Either way, rip Devon mason-ross, you're just Devon Ross now

[seat-safety-switch]

When we were kids, we didn't have access to cool power tools. Every summer, when the soapbox derby race was coming, we'd break into my neighbour's garage while he was at work. Then, we'd use his drill press, lathe, table saw, all the fun tools. Over the course of a week, a race car was produced, which is more than the workshop ever made during the rest of the year.

Sure, we could have asked him if we could have borrowed his tools, but no doubt he would want to be there to supervise. And then he'd want to help. We'd never get done while we were busy indulging the suburb-tinged fantasies of someone who didn't take wood shop and chose instead to idly worship at the altar of Television Presents: The Fantasy of Bob Vila in adulthood.

One year, Old Man Garrett got a security system. Probably this was because Ted (fucking Ted) didn't clean up the sawdust that one time like we asked him to. The old man must have seen the footprint, and realized that he did not wear size-seven Nikes. Child thieves, casing his precious table saw! Now, our humble breaking-and-entering had become significantly more difficult than "reach a coat hanger under the door and pull the emergency release."

With the help of some of the high-school kids who were taking electronics class, we managed to defeat the security system. We did so using an ancient Japanese technique known as "distract Old Man Garrett while he's setting it, and then cut the wires to the panel." I think it loses something in translation, but you get the gist of it. That year's car was especially sweet.

In adulthood, I got drunk and bragged to some work buddies about our little scam. They responded in abject horror, because I was still occupying the weird hump in the middle of a normal distribution of "acceptable crimes." It was terrifying to them to see one of their own, one of the suburbanites, speak openly about largely-harmless property crimes. What if we had been hurt, they shrieked. Around the water cooler, I would become a pariah, unless I could make amends.

I did hunt down Old Man Garrett after that, still feeling the sting of rejection. He was still on the property, and he still had a beautiful collection of immaculate cabinet-making tools in the garage. I rang his doorbell and, when he answered, I told him the whole story. He laughed.

"I knew it was you dumb shits from the beginning," he bragged. "Fucking Ted -"

"Fucking Ted," I echoed, unconsciously.

"Fucking Ted left his library book on building race cars behind on the workbench that first year. You didn't let him drive, did you?"

I shook my head. "We ran the car into him if the hockey-stick brakes ever failed."

We had a good laugh about the whole thing that evening, and I returned to work with my soul cleansed. It's just a pity Ted didn't know how bad he actually was at crime, before he tried to knock over that liquor store and all.

[elliewithcellie]

Protector

summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)

wc: 9.8k (oh my god)

cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously

a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on

“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.

Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.

His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”

You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.

You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.

The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.

Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.

“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”

“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”

“Sounds good.”

You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.

You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.

“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.

Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

------

“Hotchner.”

You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.

“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”

You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.

“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.

You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.

------

The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.

The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.

Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”

“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”

 “Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?

The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.   

You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”

“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.

“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.

“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”

You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.

Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.

Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.

You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.

As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.

You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.

“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”

“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.

“What’s your book about?”

Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.

“It’s a romance,” you confessed.

“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”

You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.

“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.

You smiled at his words.

“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.

“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”

You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.

“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”

You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.

“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”

“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.

“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”

“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.

“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”

“My dad said all that?”

“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.

“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”

“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”

“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”

He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.

“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.

“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”

You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.

“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”

You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.

------

You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.

You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.

“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”

He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.

“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”

“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.

You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”

“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.

You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.

As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.

The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.

“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.

-------

In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.

JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”

You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.

“No, I slept fine. I swear.”

“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”

“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”

 “Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.

His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”

Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.

“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”

“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.

Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”

The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”

“Y/N,” Reid said.

All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.

“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”

“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”

“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.

“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.

“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”

-------

For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.

You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.

“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”

You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.

You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.

Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.

“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”

You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.

“Put it on.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.

“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.

“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”

“That’s it,” Morgan said.

“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”

On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.

“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I got it.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.

Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”

You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.

------

You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.

Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.

“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.

You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”

“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”

The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”

“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”

“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.

“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.

Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.

“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.

------

The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.

------

You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.

Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.

“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”

“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”

Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.

“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.

Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.

Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.

“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”

You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.

When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.

“How are you?”

“Everything hurts.”

“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”

“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”

“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”

“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”

Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”

“Hotch. Please.”

Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”

You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.

“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”

He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.

“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”

You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.

“It was you?” you asked.

Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”

“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”

The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”

Hotch shook his head no.

“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”

Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”

“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”

Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”

The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.

“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.

“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.

Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”

The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.

“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”

“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.

“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.

Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.

Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.

Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.

“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.

A few of them chuckled at your antics.

“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”

“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.

“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.

“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.

“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.

A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”

“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.

“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.

Imagine how Hotch must have felt.

“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.

The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.

“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”

“You need sleep, sir.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”

You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”

“It’s why I offered.”

You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”

“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”

When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.

“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.

“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”

You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”

He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.

“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”

Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”

He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

------

You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.

The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.

“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.

“How can I help?”

You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”

His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.

“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”

“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.

“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”

All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.

“Wait,” you said.

He froze.

You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.

“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”

You nodded.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

------

The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.

When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.

“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”

“I can get my things just fine.”

“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”

You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.

The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.

Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.

“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”

You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.

You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”

“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.

You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.

Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.

Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.

“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”

“Hotch, what is all this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”

“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.

“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”

Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”

“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”

“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”

Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”

You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”

“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.

“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”

“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”

“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”

“I would do that for anyone.”

“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.

“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.

“This morning…” you said.

“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”

“Then what did Reid mean?”

Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”

“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”

You looked at him in shock.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”

“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”

Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”

“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”

“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”

“Stop it, now.”

“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”

“Hotch, I swear to god—”

“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”

“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”

“But he’s not just mean, is he?”

The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.

Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”

You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”

Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”

His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”

“This is ok,” you said, breathless.

“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”

A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”

You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.

“Your room. Now.”

His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.

Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.

“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.

You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.

You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.

“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.

“You, first.”

Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your turn,” he said.

You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.

You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.

“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”

Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words, honey.”

Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”

He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.

“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.

“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.

Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.

A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.

“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.

“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.

“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.

When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.

Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.

“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”  

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”

He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.

Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”

Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.

You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”

Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.

Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.

“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”

“Faster, please,” you said.

His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.

“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”

He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.

“Just like that!” you blurted out.

He did just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.

“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.

“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”

You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”

“Chest!”

He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.

Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”

“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”

Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.

“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”

In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.

“The team’s gonna know,” you said.

Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”

“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”

Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.

************

ForeversTaglist:

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[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt. Dead on main. Someone who knows you better than you know yourself.

Perhaps Fentons are not able to recognize their child, despite the fact that they hunt him day after day. But for childhood friends, who saw each other in absolutely ridiculous situations that parents are never allowed to know about, just one sneeze and a bored sigh is enough to realize that this weirdo fighting next to him is the same guy with whom you tasted soap and then stood looking at each other from different corners and giggling.

And so, the dialogue after the battle with the creatures of Infinite Realms, to which Constantine had to invite a potential ally not yet approved by the League:

Phantom: Well, mom always said you were bad news...But a crime lord, seriously? What happened to your plans to become a literature teacher? Red Hood: Hey! For Gotham, this is a very high-paying in-demand job. And I don't want to hear anything from Casper. At least I have my own business. What kind of part-time job do you have? Are you selling sheets to your buddies from this green goo? Phantom: This is ectoplasm. And they're not my friends, and anyway… Constantine: King Phantom, do you know Red Hood? Phantom: Do I know him? Ha! This street rat was Splinter of my beginnings until my family moved out of Gotham.

Red Hood: Wait, wait a minute. Phah...Holy shit. I thought I was the best example of what it means to be a disappointment to a family, but you beat me here. Oh, man, only you...The ghost king who is the son of the ghost hunters? Seriously? Hahah! I thought your rebellious phase ended the moment you told your father that you wanted to be an astronaut and not inherit the family business.

Danny*groans and covers his face with his hands*: My life is over.

Red Hood: Literally~ No, of course I always knew that your parents' disregard for safety in the laboratory would someday kill someone, but I didn't really expect this? Like, wow… Phantom: What makes you think it was an incident in the lab? I mean, there are so many possibilities around. It's ridiculous and…hah Red Hood: Dude, look me straight in the face and tell me I'm wrong if you dare. Phantom:…Fuck you, stupid bookworm. Red Hood: Stubborn nerd. Phantom: Red bucket! Red Hood: Pale toadstool! Nightwing: Um, can you guys please stop fighting? Red Hood: What are you talking about? This is how we always communicate. Phantom: Yeah! Well, in our defense, my sister always thought we both could use a therapist. Oh, man, he made me lose my train of thought. Where were we, J? Red Hood: Since when are you able to think? And I complimented your new hair and skin color. Phantom: Right, right… But, hey, not all of my parents' hypotheses really have a right to exist, and you know it! Hm, did I mention that you're built like a fridge and how does this leather jacket suit you? Red Hood: I believe not. And who's talking about your parents' work? You were an airhead when you were alive too to be honest. And as I see it, not much has changed. Why the hell are you still starting a fight with puns? Stop telling your opponent your position. This is terribly stupid! Phantom: Oh, please, these ghosts are definitely not a threat to me. What's wrong with having a little fun? The fact that you don't have weapons to handle something stronger than a blob ghost is your problem not mine, loser. But let's get back to our greetings. Red Hood: Sure. Then listen here…

~~~~~

Nightwing: Jay, why didn't you say right away that you knew Phantom? We've wasted so much time wondering if it's worth summoning him, and you just stood there and said nothing. Red Hood: Pfff…Because I didn't know that until today. He used to be human. And we haven't seen each other for a long time. So how was I to know that he would take such a ridiculous pseudonym? Nightwing: Then why the hell didn't you feel worried about teasing this creature? Red Hood: Why should I? It's just Danny.

~~~~

Tucker: Oh man, 84 murders, attempts to kill Joker and to much fights with Batman and Black Mask and… Danny: Yeah, yeah. It's all very interesting, but it's not what I asked you to find. Get to the point, Tucker. What I will wear to our dinner tonight depends on this. Tucker: Seriously? As far as I'm concerned, whether he's single or not is less important than all this shit. Aren't you afraid to show up at his house? Danny: I'm invited. And for that matter, I'm Amity Park's former public enemy number one. Which one of us should be worried, hah? So he's not dating anyone, right? Don't try to distract me. Tucker: Dude! Danny: Ugh, in my experience, when he acts like he's lost his mind, he usually has good reasons for it. And if not, given some of the events of my alternative future, I have no right to judge him, so…

[anundyingfidelity]

DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH? — Billy Butcher

Summary: Butcher gives orders for you to stay back from the fight. You hardly comply and prove differently; he starts thinking in a very improper manner about you.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female!supe reader.

Word count: 2k.

Warnings: smut!! hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to fuck buddies, reader can control blood and explode shit (like Victoria Neuman lol), the usual mentions of violence.

Notes: this is a request made by @thatcharmingmushroom for my 400 followers drabbles celebration. I'm sorry I took soooo damn long on this, but I hope you like it and thank you so much for the idea because I had so much fun with it! I picked the Herogasm episode for this tho hehe

☕ if you like my writing support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

On the hunt for Payback, you made your way to infiltrate Herogasm along with Butcher, Hughie and the new asshole, Soldier Boy, not caring that the British dick ordered you a thousand times to stay back.

For different reasons, you were kind of forced to stay with the team, and while you didn’t really get along with any of them, Butcher was by far the one you hated the most. And, in the end, when Soldier Boy burned the whole place to the ground with a blast and Homelander arrived, you couldn’t stand there doing nothing. While the three men tried to hold down Homelander, you used your blood to create strong whips around his limbs, trying to tie him to the ground as Soldier Boy prepared to blast, yet again.

But just in seconds, Homelander recharged himself and pushed them all aside, cutting your whips, and flashing you quickly with his heat vision before storming out. Your blood blades barely made it to the hole he left in the roof as the supe just disappeared, flying away like a scared bitch.

“Well,” you started after an instant of staying silent. “I guess we fucking failed.”

Butcher shot you a dark glare as he walked straight until he stopped in front of you. “You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered.

You held his eyes as he towered you with his broad figure. He looked even more intimidating now he started playing the supe, injecting himself with Compund V. “I don’t care.”

There was this smug smirk on his face as you talked back. You knew he hated you; you knew you hated him. But as fucking weird your powers were, controling blood and exploding people with their own, Butcher found you interesting and stupidly astonishing. But of course, he wasn’t going to admit it. They were just intrusive thoughts about you and how hot you were, defying his direct orders of strictly not coming to the supe-orgy. Yeah, Homelander was a fucking cunt, and he would take care of Soldier Boy soon too. Right now, he just needed something to take the stress out after another stupid failure. His hand would work later once back at the motel, he decided.

Butcher leaned down, until his lips almost brushed the shell of your ear. “We’ll see about that.”

“Why do I have to keep listening to you?” you asked as Butcher followed back to the motel.

You stopped right out of your door, because of course you weren’t going to share a room with him and the old asshole. Hughie, who went inside their room, was the only decent human being between all of them, but still, you had to take care of yourself from those fuckers. Besides, the British idiot wouldn’t stop the verbal vomiting the whole fucking trip and you were growing sick of it.

“Because, for starters, you’re a fucking newbie here,” Butcher replied, smirking hatefully. “And second, your powers are fucking out of control. You need training and keep your mouth shut.”

You rolled your eyes, showing him your wrists. “I already healed myself from the cuts I made. Perhaps I should use your blood next time?”

“No, there’s no next time for you.”

“You don’t decide that, Butcher,” you crossed your arms over your chest, tired of being treated like a stupid kid. “I’m helping on this, I want him dead. And if any of you idiots don’t kill him, then I will.”

He curved an eyebrow, not showing any signs of being taken aback at your words, but inside, he was just in awe as before. You really hated Homelander as much as he did, however, you didn’t have a fucking plan. You would attack first, ask questions later. In any way, since when could he care about that? He had no idea.

“Hey,” Soldier Boy talked behind Butcher and stepped in closer between both of you. “You fucking stay back from this, you ain’t doing shit with your blood whips.”

Furious, you motioned your hand to draw fresh blood from a wound on his cheek and created a sharp blade, cutting his skin lightly. Soldier Boy clenched his jaw before smirking at you.

“Talk to me like that ever again and I’ll blow your dick, and not the way you like it,” you warned through your teeth.

Soldier Boy wiped the blood off the fresh wound, and smiled anew before patting Butcher on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, pal.”

With that, the old supe disappeared in the next room. You just wanted this to be over, so you turned around to get inside your room, but Butcher wouldn’t leave you alone just yet, putting his foot between the door and the frame, holding it with his super strength.

“What the fuck you want now?!” you yelled at him as he made his way inside, slamming the door closed.

“Imma have to call the fucking CIA if you don’t calm down your ass,” he threatened between his teeth.

“You wouldn’t-”

“I can, and I fucking will,” he insisted, taking slow strides, making you step back from him until your back met the wall.

His eyes were getting dangerously dark and you could smell the sweat and dry blood coming from him. You noticed his pulse was increasing, and you grinned. Your mind jumped to an unsafe place where you probably knew what Butcher was feeling right now. The heat and coming down the high of what could have been the end of both yours and his enemy was too much to burden. Little did he know that you were the kind of person that used to take out the stress with something, or someone. Just like him.

“From one to ten, how much do you hate me?” you asked all of the sudden, looking straight into his eyes.

Butcher’s fierceful gaze turned into confusion. “What?”

“How fucking much do you hate me?” you repeated yourself steadier.

Butcher rolled his eyes before answering in a whisper. “I’d choose a one thousand scale for that.”

“Good, I hate you too,” you replied with a smirk before pulling him for a kiss that turned heated too fast, but you didn’t care.

You needed release. Something quick, hard and hot to take it out of your system. He was perfect for the task, and by the way his tongue tasted your mouth, you found out that he wouldn’t step back. At least you hoped so. The tension between both of you was so damn sharp and it was just a matter of time for that bomb to explode, and you preferred it this way instead of fighting each other to death.

Gripping the neck of his shirt to get even closer as you kissed, Butcher’s hands roamed all over your hips, running on your sides until he met the flesh of your ass on your jeans, pressing you towards his chest. You gasped against his mouth when he started to unzip your pants, you worked immediately on the buttons of his shirt. Desperately, you discharged his shirt, the fabric being followed to his pants, and he undressed you with the same eagerness until you were only panties and bra.

Butcher lifted you up from the ground, hands on your thighs as he guided you to the mattress. He crawled on top of you, spreading your legs with his big, rough hands and leaning down to lick down at your chest and rip your bra off. His action made you gasp out loud at the same time he sucked on a nipple like a starved man.

“You're a fucking beast,” you whimpered, feeling his hands peeling off your panties and leaving you completely exposed at his mercy.

You tugged at his jeans and he pulled them down along with his boxers as quickly as he could, taking out his dick with that smug smile on his stupid face. He noticed your eyes taking the sight of his half nakedness, biting your lip slightly once you focused on his hard cock pressing on your crotch. It only made you wet.

“Well, I plan to fuck you like one,” he said, grabbing the back of your legs and rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds.

“Show me, don’t talk- fuck!”

You let out a rather loud moan when he rubbed your clit with his fingers, playing with your entrance until he inserted a single, thick digit in your pussy. Butcher stretched you out with a finger, then slid a second one, scissoring them to reach your deepest spots as your walls clenched around his digits. You kept whimpering and moaning as he increased the thrusts of his hand.

“Bloody fuck, these are the only sounds I like coming from your mouth, luv,” he hissed, sensing that you almost came on his fingers.

Right before you reached your high, he pulled out and you groaned in annoyance, feeling empty once again.

“Shit,” you breathed out.

He positioned between your legs anew, getting comfortable as he started to push his tip against your slit. The grip of his hands on your thighs became a little harsh once he entered you slowly, the thickness of his cock splitting you open.

“What a tight cunt I always knew you’d be,” he grunted, filling you up completely and leaning down to mark your neck with his teeth.

His mouth and thrusts earned him your sweet moans as he fucked you senseless. The burning soon turned into pleasure. Your nails scratched his back while moaning incoherent words. His hands on your thighs would leave marks on your skin, but it felt so damn good. You needed a little bit of pain to remind you that you were alive, rotting for that sweet bliss only sex could give you.

Moans escaped from your throat and mingled with his deep groans and the sound of your skin against his own, the headboard of the bed hitting the wall with every of his hard thrusts. You pulled him down for a wet kiss when you felt closer and closer to come undone.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you gasped.

Butcher increased the rhythm of his thrusts, his cock throbbing as your walls started to clench around him.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he mumbled against your mouth.

“Do you still hate me?” you asked, trying to catch your breath. You reached down to rub your clit. You were so close, almost there.

“If I keep fucking you like this then I might change my mind- holy fuck!”

In that moment, you came hard with a string of curses and clenching your walls around his cock. The pound of his hips increased and he fucked you through your orgasm to reach his own. You continued rubbing your clit, fingers finding the place where you two connected, meeting his cock coated with your juices when he pulled out just slightly to slam back inside again.

Butcher emptied his cum inside you, mumbling dirty words against your ear. His rhythm slowing down eventually, fucking his seed in your pussy. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and rolled by your side on the bed. Your body started to ache but in the best way possible. It was the best fuck you had in a long time. After a couple of minutes in complete silence you decided to talk, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“I hope you keep hating on me…”

He turned slightly to see your blank face. “Why?”

“I love hate-fucking.”

He scoffed with a smile curving on his lips. “You bet I enjoyed this too.”

Within a second, you climbed on top of him. Thighs straddling his lap as you rubbed your cunt on his soft cock.

“Second round? You can eat me out and suck your cum out of me,” you gave him a wink, rolling your hips and leaning down for a quick kiss.

“Dirty girl,” Butcher whispered on your lips. “Perhaps put your mouth into good use.”

“I like how that sounds,” you smiled back at him.

Billy Butcher taglist

@delaynew

@thesilmarillionblog

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

[bitterchocoo]

Hello ! Can I ask Savanaclaw with a first year student (platonic) that is like LingYang from Wuthering waves pls ? Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!!

Have a good day !

Another Lion?

Savanaclaw | M. Reader as Lingyang [Wuthering Waves] (Platonic)

----------

"It's like a mini you!"

----------

The day [Name] arrived at Savanaclaw is the day where Leona get's another headache. Such an energetic guy.. honestly where did he got all that energy from? It's annoying. Like a child who's still learning the world around him, believing how being kind and sincere is a good thing. Meanwhile Jack and Ruggie is incredibly happy. [Name] is just such a nice guy, always willing to help, it's a nice change from how many rotten eggs are in Savanaclaw, believing that they're the "strongest."

It's even more interesting how [Name] appears to also be a lion like Leona but turned out way different. Ruggie would always joke how [Name] is the version of Leona if he was kinder. Which earned him quite the death glare. When [Name] offered a private lion dance performance. Boy is it a sight. Watching someone showing their culture and traditions are always a nice experience and seeing him go from pillar to pillar with such swift motions is quite mesmerizing. [Name] is more than happy to teach them lion dancing if they asked.

With how swift he is, [Name] instantly made his way on to the Magical Shift/Spelldrive team in Savanclaw. He's just so agile, perhaps being a lion dancer makes him quite nimble.

Leona still finds him annoying though but after some interactions, [Name] makes a wonderful sleeping buddy. How? Well somehow he always without fail found the nicest and seclusive spots for naps. [Name]'s senses are surprisingly sharper than his, which throw Leona off the loop for a moment, and just like that [Name] had officially become Savanclaw's younger brother, who ever dare lay a single finger on him will answer to the Housewarden.

Ruggie and [Name] bonded like brothers, playing pranks here and there, enjoying life. Jack is like the more responsible older brother. Ready to help, and tries to get the two of them out of trouble, he may seem mean, but he's a big softie.

----------

Spoilers to those who haven't done Lingyang's companion quest

----------

Leona, Ruggie, Jack, and [Name] were at the Savanaclaw's dorm, Leona is napping like always, while Ruggie and Jack told stories of from their hometown as [Name] listens eagerly, happy to learn new things. "Oh? So it's like a folklore? Jinzhou also had one. It's called the Jingle Beast." [Name] says casually, looking out at the horizon with a faint smile, remembering it well how people use to fear such a "beast."

"They say that there's a beast somewhere out there and that when it hunts, you could hear the sound of a bell jingle. It's as simple as that really." He explains casually with a chuckle in the end. Such a silly rumor.

"Kishishishi! Really now? A Jingle Beast?" Ruggie can't help but laugh at such an interesting folklore. "Some say it's just a Suan'ni. A mystical creature that has amazing abilities. Some were skeptical though, since Suan'ni's are practically extinct now." [Name] added, looking down at the ground where they sat. This caught their attention, even Leona as he opens one eye and glance over to the three of them.

Ruggie thought about it for a moment before nodding in response, his face became more serious. "I don’t blame them. In ancient times, the world used to be a very brutal world. Suan‘nies were hunted and killed by humans for their own profit and desires. It was cruel and not fair."

[Name] remain silent for a moment, thinking back on those times. "In my own option…" He began slowly.

"The last Suan'ni might have yearn to become a human… it yanked out all of its fur, filled down its claws, twisted its bones, and learn how to stand upright." [Name] explains in a soft and melancholy tone, his gaze never leaving the ground, his ears occasionally twitched as he says those words.

"Anyway…" He paused, adding with hesitant in his voice. "It.. never really became a human in the end.."

Pure silence. Nothing but pure silence follows after that.

Ruggie and Jack look at [Name] with widened eyes, heck, even Leona had gotten up, sitting upright and looking at the other with a dumbfounded expression. They immediately picked up on what the other is implying.

Of course the Suan'ni never became a human in the end... because at the end of the day.. it is still a Suan'ni.

Through out the centuries... animals evolved and that's how they could now stand on two feet, talk, and etc etc.

But what about those who are older? Before such evolution could even be achieve? Suppose...

[Name] had answer that question.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Charlie. You know I love you, right?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “…before I answer, can I ask YOU a question?”

Vaggie: “Sure, babe. Fire away.”

Charlie: “Okay.”

Charlie: “Is this about the singing cannibal quartet love song turned massacre in the hotel lobby?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Is it about the supposedly non-man eating flowers that tried eating Angel Dust, which Niffty won’t let us get rid of now because she wants to train them to hunt cockroaches with her?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Charlie: “Is it about the alleged cookies Husk is still in bed recovering from taste testing?”

Vaggie: “Those were cookies?”

Charlie: “Allegedly. In a previous life maybe.”

Vaggie: “Huh. They weren’t bad.”

Charlie: “They- Vaggie, you didn’t actually EAT-”

Vaggie: “After wrestling Angel Dust out of the third flower in a row? I was hungry. The kitchen was on fire earlier so I knew you’d made something. And they were sitting in a common area, unclaimed and unlabeled.”

Charlie: “I put CAUTION TAPE around them!!”

Vaggie: “We don’t have anyone staying here named Caution or Hazardous Waste. Not yet, anyway.”

Charlie: “ARE YOU FEELING OKAY!?”

Vaggie: “Fine. This isn’t about the uh, ‘alleged cookies’.”

Charlie: “Well then what is it about? Am I forgetting something else?”

Vaggie: “Maybe. Are you gonna answer my question now?”

Charlie: “Of course I know you love me, Vaggie. Absolutely."

Vaggie: "Then-"

Charlie: "A dangerous amount, even- you sure you’re feeling alright? Those cookies... poor Husk…”

Vaggie: “Husk is on average 40% alcohol and not used to solid foods. This was a good learning experience for him, trust me.”

Charlie: “I do! I do I do, I just, also really hope Angel Dust knows how to BE an actual bedside nurse as well as DRESS like one. A. Sexy one.”

Vaggie: “We’ll save Husk from medical malpractice in a minute. Right now though…”

Vaggie: (smooch the tol gf)

Charlie: “?”

Vaggie: “You don’t have to do extra things like this, sweetie.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

Vaggie: “Not that I didn’t love the thought behind it.”

Charlie: “There were no thoughts. Just, wow I love my girlfriend, wow I really hope she knows I love her.”

Vaggie: “I do. You’re amazing, and doing normal hotel crisis things with you is already amazing enough.”

Charlie: (droops) “I know, I know…”

Vaggie: “So?”

Charlie: “Well that’s the THING though! We’ve only been doing hotel stuff!”

Vaggie: “It’s a pretty wide range of activities you gotta admit.”

Charlie: “Oh sure right, sooo varied- stop a murder, fight to stop a murder, try not to do a murder, replace THIS fix THAT organize another group talk and go into red alert whenever the things get suspiciously quiet- go collect the bodies, probably reassemble them, pay the bills, supervised arts and crafts and Cherri still makes a BOMB somehow-”

Vaggie: “Everyone getting together to blow it up outside was kinda sweet.”

Charlie: “And that’s great! We’re doing great, things are going good, it’s just- WE don’t do anything that’s just for US.”

Vaggie: “That what’s bothering you?”

Charlie: “Bothering me? BOTHERING ME?? Vaggie our last outing together was dragging you back up to HEAVEN where the people who left you in hell also BLAKMAILED YOU!"

Vaggie: "Could've been worse."

Charlie: "IT WAS HORRIBLE! A NEGATIVE TIME TOGTHER! I’m gonna explode- I haven’t taken you on an actual date in MONTHS!!!”

Vaggie: “So let’s go then.”

Charlie: “I know we can’t just leave the hotel, but that doesn’t stop-”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Huh?”

Vaggie: “Let’s go. We can take the rest of the night off.”

Charlie: “….can we?”

Vaggie: “Sure. Niffty’s busy with her new murder plant buddies, Husk’s busy being sick, Angel Dust’s busy with Husk, and Cherri Bomb… well. If the singing cannibal duo wants to keep playing exploding volleyball with her out back then that’s their problem, not ours.”

Charlie: “It’ll be our problem REAL quick if anyone spikes the bomb at the hotel!”

Vaggie: “It’ll be just another Tuesday, another hole in the wall, and a chance for Cherri to learn about the wonders of vacuum cleaners and wall plaster.”

Charlie: “Which you won’t be able to sleep knowing about until you’ve redone the whole thing yourself.”

Vaggie: “That’s still just another Tuesday.”

Charlie: “What about Husk being sick? AND suffering under Angel Dust’s dubiously sexy medical care?”

Vaggie: “If they’re bothering each other they can’t be getting into trouble with anyone else. Win-win.”

Charlie: “Niffty is building an army.”

Vaggie: “Good for her.”

Charlie: “She might be planning on wiping out all life in the hotel???”

Vaggie: “Hell forbid the cleaning ladies do anything.”

Charlie: “Why are you suddenly so okay with mess and chaos? You HATE messes and chaos! You patrol the hotel just to check everyone’s doing what you thought they’d be doing, based on all the little schedules you keep making on them!”

Vaggie: “Which they didn’t need to hear you yelling about but sure.”

Charlie: “You refold all my laundry so the creases line up just right! Why- oh no.”

Charlie: (gasp) “Vaggie, don’t panic, but I think the evil fail cookies are affecting you-”

Vaggie: “Charlie-” (laughing) “-no, they’re not. Maybe I’m fine with a little extra mess and chaos, if it means spending time with you.”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Vaggie: “Triangle. Wanna go on a date with me?”

Charlie: “YE- wait, you’re sure though?”

Vaggie: “I’m sure.”

Charlie: “Really sure?”

Vaggie: “Very.”

Charlie: “It’s not a fun date if it makes you super stressed afterwards.”

Vaggie: “I’m always stressed. It’d be nice if I could at least get some uninterrupted ‘stare at my beautiful girlfriend’ time while I’m at it.”

Charlie: “The hotel’s gonna be in RUINS when we get back. Our friends might be on fire by then.”

Vaggie: “C’mon, they’re not our kids. They’re all responsible adults….”

Chaggie: “…..”

Vaggie: “….they’re all adults…”

Charlie: “Who we’re kinda responsible for…?”

Vaggie: “Not for tonight.”

Charlie: (sighing) “That WOULD be nice.”

Vaggie: “So let’s make it happen. Date night?”

Charlie: “-ES YES YES YES YES-”

Vaggie: “That a yes?”

Charlie: “YES!!! I- Hold on, wait wait, I’ve got-”

Charlie: (pulls out several papers covered in writing and diagrams)

Charlie: “…I’ve got, let’s see here-”

Vaggie: “Notes?”

Charlie: “-seven quick pick up date ideas that don’t need ANY preparation-”

Vaggie: “You made plans for dates you didn’t even think we’d go on?”

Charlie: “Well it never hurts to dream about something, right? That way you get to have fun either way, and you’ll be ready if it does happen!”

Vaggie: “I love you.”

Charlie: (grinning) “You love that you’ve infected me with note cards and organizing thoughts and things~”

Vaggie: “That too.”

Charlie: “Well according to my wonderful notes, the least stressful date option is…. Cannibal Town!”

Vaggie: “They have that dress code don’t they.”

Charlie: “Unless you wanna get your cute butt chased for all the wrong reasons, yep! They do!”

Vaggie: “Is this you wanting to see me in a fancy-ass dress?”

Charlie: “And to stroll down the nicely kept streets arm-in-arm with you, enjoyed the quiet atmosphere not filled with random agonized screams, stopping to admire the beautiful and very well composted flower beds…”

Vaggie: “I’d stroll with you anywhere, so count me in.”

Charlie: “YES! Oh I already LOVE THIS- and Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “I love you too.”

Vaggie: “Wow really. Had no idea.”

Charlie: “Heheh.”

Vaggie: “Honestly there’ve been like, zero hints about that all day.”

Charlie: “I promise I really was trying to be subtle.”

Vaggie: “There’s a lot of words for you, but subtle’s probably not one of them.”

Charlie: “I tried. I tried for youuuuuuu~ For the sake of my girlfriend, I was willing to go against my baser and more dramatic nature!”

Vaggie: “What’s more dramatic than man eating flowers, that’s what I’d like to know.”

Charlie: “A garden.”

Vaggie: “A g- a whole garden?”

Charlie: (shrug) “We’ve got plenty of empty rooms…”

Vaggie: “A garden, sweetie.”

Charlie: “I was thinking of putting a lot of trees and bushes in. Lots of stuff to hide behind.”

Vaggie: “Our own little patch of private picnic paradise, huh?”

Charlie: “Hm-hmm! Or for makeouts. Or both?”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Not to spoil the mood but… speaking of plants and compost, on our date, should we bring the other half of the cannibal quartet over to Rosie’s while we’re headed there? Or, what’s left of them?”

Charlie: “Mmmmm NAAAH. I wanna have all hands free on the way over.”

Vaggie: “Hands free for what?”

Charlie: “Nothing~”

Vaggie: “Your hands are already on my ass, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Oh whoops!”

Vaggie: “I didn’t say you could move them.”

Charlie: “That’s why I’m not~”

Vaggie: “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t you.” (muttering) “I’m not even the one off playing with carnivorous plants, so why's it suddenly feel like I’m in danger...”

Charlie: “Beecaaaause you look dangerously cute in a fancy dress.”

Vaggie: “Says the woman walking around in THAT suit.”

Charlie: “I have to dress sharp! I need to match with my girlfriend!”

Vaggie: “You’ve been wearing that exact same kind of suit since long before you even met me.”

Charlie: “Only through YEARS of unfulfilled potential!”

Vaggie: “Uh huh.”

Charlie: “Tragic, wasted beauty!”

Vaggie: “Hardly wasted with you in it.”

Charlie: “But it was! A jacket crying out for the one woman who’ll finally borrow and wear it the way it was always meant to be worn!”

Vaggie: “With the sleeves falling over my hands?”

Charlie: “With that adorable little blush when you snuggle down into it… Also, the way it falls to almost mid-thigh on you, and how you like wearing it with nothing el-”

Vaggie: “Is this a date night or a do not disturb night?”

Charlie: “Date night!”

Vaggie: “Then stop biting your lip at me.”

Charlie: “Aww.”

Vaggie: “And come help me pick out a fancy dress.”

Charlie: “!!! THE ONE FROM THE COMMERCIAL MAYBE???”

Vaggie: “Oh you liked that look, huh?” (snickering) “Aw babe- is THAT why you stay up replaying the commercial some nights?”

Charlie: “That’s… public image analysis…”

Vaggie: “Whatever you say. Now you now know how I feel every day.”

Charlie: (muttering) “lucky you.”

Vaggie: “You wanna switch things up for the date, or keep the suit?”

Charlie: “Keep, probably..? You like me in the suit~”

Vaggie: “I like you in a lot of things.”

Charlie: “R-right.”

Vaggie: “And nothing.”

Charlie: “I- same.” (horns start popping out) “Um.” (pushes them back in) “Could we also. Wear matching hats?”

Vaggie: “Of course we’re wearing matching hats. This is supposed to be a fancy date right?”

Charlie: “Very. Very fancy.”

Vaggie: “Well nothing’s fancier than hats."

Charlie: "WHEEE! With flowers on them, yeah!?"

Vaggie: "Have I ever let you down?”

Charlie: “Never.”

Vaggie: “And do you promise not to bring me anymore demonic flowers or singing quartets?”

Charlie: “… I’ll do my best.”

Vaggie: “Perfect.”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “I wouldn’t say no to a few more of those cookies though-”

Charlie: “NO.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, they were good.”

Charlie: “No. Absolutely no, I am NOT poisoning you on purpose. Not even if you ask me nicely and pout about it like that.”

Vaggie: “You deny the cookies?”

Charlie: “Don’t even start-”

Vaggie: “Girlfriend abuse. Toxic relationship alert.”

Charlie: “Those 'cookies' were the MOST TOXIC THING that our relationship has EVER seen!”

Vaggie: “They were made with love.”

Charlie: “And likely heavy metals? The fact that you willingly ate them is maybe the most WORRYING thing our relationship has ever seen…”

Vaggie: “Cough exorcist lie cough cough.”

Charlie: “Totally different. That didn’t put you in active danger-”

Niffty: “SPEAKING OF DANGER!”

Chaggie: (screaming)

Niffty: “My murder plant babies are in danger.”

Vaggie: “HOW can- how can those things BE in danger?”

Charlie: “NIFFTY PLEASE! The knocking?? The not dropping from air vents???”

Niffty: “Only in emergencies, I remember! This is an emergency. Husk is feeding himself to my murder plan babies.”

Vaggie: “Why.”

Niffty: “Escaping nurse Angel Dust and unnecessary CPR.”

Charlie: “Oh for-”

Vaggie: “Let him. They won’t kill him. Permanently, anyway.”

Charlie: “…. Hm.”

Niffty: “What if my murder babies get food poisoning from second hand bad cookies?”

Vaggie: “Seek revenge for them or something?”

Niffty: “OoooOOOH!”

Niffty: (scuttles away cackling)

Charlie: “Oh noooo, you’ve given her an idea-”

Vaggie: “Too late to stop her now. C’mon.” (grabbing charlie’s hand) “Make a break for our room before anyone else-”

Cherri Bomb: “Hey girls! Uh, you were planning on making a pit for a hotel swimming pool, right? Like, one already kinda full of blood? Right out back? Right???”

Chaggie: “….”

Charlie: “… Hello~! Charlie and Vaggie can’t be reached at the moment!”

Vaggie: “We’ll be out all night.”

Cherri Bomb: “And the pool of blood-?”

Charlie: “So please leave a message at the sound of the beep!”

Vaggie: “Beeeeep.” (at charlie) “Run.”  

Charlie: (scooping up vaggie) “My legs are longer-”

Vaggie: “Brilliant thinking sweetie now GO GO GO!!!”

Chaggie: (flees)

Cherri Bomb: “…..”

Cherri Bomb: “They take the u-haul thing seriously, huh.”

-their room-

Charlie: “….Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “Stop it.”

Vaggie: “Stop what?”

Charlie: “Vaggie.”

Vaggie: “Mmm?”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “…..fine, FINE!” (groaning) “I’ll see about salvaging the burnt remains of the evil cursed cookie recipe when we get back. Now will you PLEASE stop messing with your flawless hair and put the dress on? Or anything!? Anything being put on would be good now too!”

Vaggie: (smiling) “No idea what you mean babe, but alright.” (quietly to herself) “Mission success.”

Charlie: “I heard that.”

-exiting hotel-

Vaggie: “Almost there.”

Charlie: “Oh please my dad who’s probably in a pile of duckies, please just let us make it out the d-”

(horrific screaming from deeper inside hotel)

Charlie: “…..”

Vaggie: “….”

Charlie: “We didn’t hear that.”

Vaggie: “We kinda already did, sweetie.”

Charlie: “No.” (pouting) “No. We can hear it when we get back.”

Vaggie: “Fine by me.”

Charlie: (SIGHING) “Even though we’re gonna hear allllll about not hearing it when we get back...”

Vaggie: “Worth it.”

Charlie: (grinning) “Think so?”

Vaggie: “Do you?”

Charlie: (already tugging them out the door by their entwined hands) “More than worth it.” (lifts and twirls vaggie down the hotel steps) “Whooosh!”

Vaggie: “Oh is THIS why you really wanted me in a fancy dress? For the ‘whoosh’?”

Charlie: “That, and for the way you smile when I whoosh you~”

[wizard-email]

I don't want to add god's longest addition to the would you survive an apocalypse?' poll, but I do actually have an absolutely fallproof plan for the zombie apocalypse. It doesn’t matter what kind of zombies there are & it has exactly (2) steps:

1. Drive to the nearest National Trust proparty

2. win

This is the result of a very lengthy (and completely serious) discussion with my sister so let me break it down for you.

Benefit 1: EVERYTHING'S THERE

For those of you who don't live in the UK (or don't have parents with exactly 1 idea for a family trip ever), all National Trust proparties are broadly speaking exactly the same.

There's a big rich person's house & the courtyard is always converted into a little picnic area containing a combination gift shop/booking desk; a cafe and a secondhand bookshop. The gift shop has like a 60% chances to contain basic gardening tools and a little section for seeds & bulbs.

I won't list their standardised cafe menu (that I do in fact have memorised), but it's pretty good & more importantly most of it is made or at least finished on site. If they rationed, a small group could live off National Trust cornish pasties, scones & gift shop fudge for a month or two I think <3

Here's a list of things that are might be there but aren't 100% guaranteed:

- Kitchen garden

- Fish pond

- Livestock (usually chickens, sometimes pigs or bees)

- Medieval armour (fuck ya'll with guns but I would take a pike over having to worry about ammunition any day)

- Horses and functioning stable

- Forests cultivated for the purpose of deer hunting

John McRichman's gun/archery collection

- Lake

Benefit 2: FUCKING!! CASTLE!!

??? Where do I start???

1. These things are so easy to defend it's laughable.

I'm sure we all know about spiral staircases being designed to maximise cover for a right handed person during sieges but it's more than that ??? 18th century rich people loved to make their estates look as big, impressive & isolated as possible & they did this by surrounded their houses on all sides with several hundred metres of flat, open grass with thick trees on the edges to block out the horizon.

- Nothing can see you

- No loud noises will be within earshot of anything close to civilisation

- Any zombies that DO somehow show up can be picked off at a distance whether they know how to run or not

- Litterally there are so many little towers & secret rooms & shit how do you even manage to fuck up enough to die here like I would actually be impressed

- ALSO the edge of the estate is usually also walled off and/or fenced & gated, so there's no chance of anything wandering in by accident

2. All the older infrastructure is designed pre-electricity so you'll still be able to have a shower when the power grid inevitably explodes or something

3. You get to sleep in one of those huge 4-poster beds with all the fun embroidery and silk pillows

4. Idk the massive lawn can be converted into a farm if the apocalypse goes on long enough

Genuinely I think my quality of life would actually improve?? and that's just with what's already there - if there was time to pick up some supplies beforehand me & my buddies would just be hanging out. literally what apocalypse im eating scones xoxo

[lizzieisright]

She looks like fun

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: During the patrol you find a pretty pleated skirt. In Abby's size.

Tags: okay, here we go fingering, oral, strap usage, strap sucking, Abby wears a skirt and a collar for sexy purposes, scene negotiation, safewords (traffic lights), aftercare, Abby and R are switches.

wc: 6.5k (it's a huge bitch, but 1.5k is a sfw part in the beginning)

a/n: listen I love when girls wear short pleated skirts, and Abby is not an exception.

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s rare to find something worthy when you’re out on the patrol, and you try to contain your disappointment every time - mostly because you hate losing and you and Abby have a rivalry going on who can bring more cool shit for the other. It’s romantic and sappy and also it drives you both crazy since you’re competitive. (people said hate sex was hot - have you tried sex after your super competitive partner loses to you? The best thing ever). So usually you won’t be happy at the end of your patrol.

But today you manage to get into a store that hasn’t been raided yet, so you start taking everything you see - people need clothes all the time, and it’s valuable. You put a mark on your map so others can go there later to take the rest and you go to women’s section, not feeling optimistic: the fabric is worse, the sizes are fucked, and even if you find something nice it tends to not last long.

But then you see it. 

On the rack next to jeans there’s a rack with skirts - and why the fuck you’d stop to look at them? - but the skirts are pleated skirts. Short pleated skirts that cover ass just enough to be socially acceptable. 

You can’t stop looking at them - you’ve seen before how nice they flow and how absolutely delicious girls look in them. 

But it’s so not Abby’s style. 

But she’ll look so good in one of these skirts.

She will probably tell you to go fuck yourself if you show it to her. 

You pack it in your backpack anyway. 

“Found something?” Abby asks as she comes inside the shop. “Oh wow. This is nice.”

“Choose whatever you want, my treat.” You say with a cocky smirk and Abby rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t count.” 

“You’re being unfair.” You whine as Abby makes her way to you. 

“No, I’m not.” Abby murmurs. “This store is a public service, where is your personal touch?”

“You’ll talk shit just to keep your score, huh?” You smirk and Abby gives you a peck on your lips before diving into the racks to find something for herself.

The skirt gets a buddy in the form of a tight cropped white t-shirt and you don’t tell Abby about it. 

The week passes and you still don’t talk about that damn skirt even though you can’t stop thinking about Abby wearing it: how it would hug her round butt and how her thick thighs would be so shamelessly out for you. You think about how cute she’d look walking around your shared space, the skirt bouncing and almost showing you everything. You think about the possibility of Abby not wearing any underwear under it, and how hot it would be to lift the skirt up and touch her and make her moan. You think about Abby all sprawled out with your head under that skirt, making a mess out of it. 

Abby is not an idiot, so she notices the change in your mood for the last few days. She knows something is on your mind, so she catches you off guard, with her fingers buried deep inside you. 

“Come on baby, tell me what’s been bothering you.” Abby murmurs into your ear while her fingers relentlessly hit the spot that makes you see stars.

“Shit- what?” You ask, totally lost in your pleasure. 

“You’re keeping something from me. So share.” Abby kisses your neck and you try really hard not to cum, but your thighs start to shake.

“Fuck- the fucking skirt-”

And you see Abby in that skirt, all cute and shy, and you spasm around real Abby’s fingers, cumming with a groan. Abby is too distracted with watching you go through your orgasm, still fucking you, and you both forget about the topic. 

Until you’re calmed down and Abby is satisfied with how fucked out you are. Then she remembers.

“Skirt?”

Shit, you think. Now you’ll have to explain it to Abby who definitely will tell you to fuck off. 

“I took a skirt from that store we found. It’s a pleated skirt, a cute one.”

“So? You want to wear it?” 

“I want you to wear it.”

Abby is silent, and you expect it, so you already drop the subject in your head, letting it go. But Abby is not letting it go.

“You want me to wear a skirt?”

“If you want to, obviously. I think you'll be so hot in it. But I know it’s not your style.”

“It’s really not.” Abby chuckles. “So that’s why you’ve been so spacey lately? Thinking about me in a skirt?”

“Yeah. Can’t stop thinking about your pretty butt in it.” You kiss Abby’s neck and flip her on her back. “You’d look so cute.” You kiss Abby’s abs as you make your way down. “I’d run my hands under your pretty little skirt and you’ll just take it like a good girl, yeah?”

This shift is always beautiful: she just fucked your brains out, but a couple of words and your head between her legs makes Abby go pliant and soft, her big blue eyes giving you a Bambi. 

“Holy fuck.” Abby sighs and you smile into her pussy. “I’ll wear it for you.”

The hungry monster inside you roars and claws at your chest. 

Abby walks funny the next day.

You don’t actually expect Abby to wear it - after all, what is said under horny subby fog can’t be held accountable. Abby is really not a girly girl - fuck, it’d be easier to make you wear a skirt (after getting shot and stabbed repeatedly, mind you), and you understand that Abby might not be comfortable with this idea. 

But you leave the skirt and the t-shirt on the bed one day to give her the choice. When you come back, it's gone. 

Next time the skirt topic comes up when you're taking a bath together - a rare luxury, so you enjoy every second of feeling Abby's warm skin against yours.

"Do you still want me to wear a skirt?" If you were relaxed a second ago, now you're suddenly alert. 

"Only if you want it too." You kiss her shoulder. 

"And if I wear it..?" Abby gives you space to finish the phrase for her. 

"I'll fuck you on every surface in this apartment." Abby laughs, but you know what she wants to know. "Yeah, I want it to be a scene." You take a second. "Do you want me to plan it?"

"Yeah."

You freeze for a second, not really believing your luck - Abby doesn't ask for a scene plan unless she wants to do it, and right now it means she will wear a skirt for you. 

"Fuck baby, you're going to wear it for me?" You ask excitedly, squeezing her in your arms. "With a t-shirt too?"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get into your head." 

"We have a few free days next week, right? Is it okay?"

"Yes, you horndog." Abby laughs and you bite her gently. 

So you spend the next days planning what you would do with Abby, writing a short list of kinks so she could veto whatever she doesn't want to happen or add something she wants to happen (the ropes last time? Her idea). She still won't know in which order everything will happen or where exactly, or even when in some cases, to save the magic of the moment, but in order to feel safe with each other, you write your lists every time, unless you both get spontaneously in the mood and have to negotiate on the fly. 

You pass your list to Abby and as she reads it, her face warms up in a pretty red colour, just like apples in the garden. 

"Okay." Abby smiles at you. "This sounds good. But I pulled my shoulder today, so I won't be able to get on my hands and knees."

"Fuck, I'll give a massage later." You say, worried. "Okay, that's fine, no doggy." 

"We can do that one, when you push the pillow under me?"

You swallow in horny, the pictures flying through your head, as you scribble it down on your list. 

"Fuck yes. Are you going to be fine like this? You still put your arms up." 

"It's not that bad." Abby shrugs. "I want to add something." 

You nod eagerly, always ready to give Abby whatever she wants. Abby walks away to go through her backpack and comes back to you, giving you a piece of small leather belt. It's too small for any human, and just as your brain starts to catch up, Abby drops the bomb on you.

"Collar me."

You blink a few times, not believing your ears.

"I'll fucking destroy you, Abs." You say, your voice low and dark. 

You had this talk before, and Abby was honestly weirded out by the ritual of collaring, so you decided not to add it, especially since you weren't in a 24/7 dynamic and not in fixed roles either. And you know Abby doesn't mean putting this collar as the collar, but it is still so hot. The whole thing is not done by the book or by rules, but you really don't care: whatever Abby wants, Abby gets. 

"I will want to tug on it." You tell her, honestly, and Abby thinks for a second.  

"Yeah, okay. Traffic lights, then." 

You nod and add "collaring" in your messy handwriting. 

You know Abby will wear this skirt, it's not a surprise, but you're still not prepared when you walk into the kitchen. 

Abby is standing there, and you trail her bare legs up until you see the edge of the skirt and holy fuck. Holy fuck she looks good in it, her trained perky ass making the folds of the skirt to look especially delicious. You lick your lips as your fingers twitch, because you want to lift it already and get a look at her pretty little pussy. 

And your eyes go up and you see this tight t-shirt that shows all the muscles in Abby's back and shoulders and you want to bite her and mark her. 

"Wow, princess." You sigh and make your way to her, squeezing her waist. Abby jumps, surprised, but relaxes against you. "You look so fucking pretty." 

"Thank you."

"Give me a twirl, will you?" You step away to give her space.

Abby is clearly embarrassed, but she does the cutest twirl in the world and yes, you can see her ass. And she is not wearing underwear, just as you told her. 

"Beautiful." You murmur and run your hand up her thigh, lifting the skirt just a little. "You wanna watch something? I brought this from the library."

You show her the dvd and Abby is still tethered to reality, so she reads the summary carefully. 

"Sounds okay. Not like the last time." 

"Fuck you, baby." You pinch her side in revenge. "Let's go."

It seems so normal. It seems like any other day off, you and Abby sitting on the couch, but even as you pretend to watch the movie, you see how twitchy Abby is getting. 

She plays with the ham of her skirt and it's so fucking cute - but then she smooths the fabric and you feel like you're going to explode: Abby enjoys wearing it. Abby likes it in a way that a girl who was forced to grow up in a horrible fucking world would enjoy doing normal girly things. 

Maybe Abby is not not so girly after all. 

Your heart feels tender right now and you can't help but to put your hand on her thigh, drawing little circles on her sensitive skin. 

"Do you like it?"

"A little predictable, but still better." Abby shrugs and squeaks when you squeeze her thigh. "Yeah." She is shy now. "I feel pretty." 

"You are pretty, princess." You whisper in her ear, making her shudder.

But you don't do anything else. You keep watching the movie, caressing Abby's thigh and pretend not to notice the change in her breathing. Then Abby starts shifting a little and you look down to see her nipples perked up. The fabric is rubbing against her sensitive skin and you just wait, because in a minute you feel how Abby tries to press her thighs together, thinking she is sneaky. 

You chuckle and move your hand under the skirt, slowly parting her folds. Abby tries to keep her whimper to herself, but you feel how wet she is. 

"What's got you so worked up, pretty girl?" You ask innocently while you brush your thumb over Abby's clit. 

"Nothing." Abby breathes out and you chuckle. 

"Really?" You wonder and pick up the speed, flicking Abby's clit until she presses her thighs together.

It's such a pretty sight: your hand under Abby's skirt, squeezed by her warm thighs, her knees pressed together. Abby is biting her lip and you watch her while your fingers tease her relentlessly. She looks desperate and helpless, and you live for it.

"Were you thinking exactly about this? How good I will make you feel under your pretty skirt?" You gently bite Abby's neck and she joists. "But we are watching a movie, princess, and I'm really interested in it. So you will give a narration while I play with your pretty pussy." You can't give less fucks about this movie, but making life harder for Abby is your favourite game.

"Yes, ma'am." Abby is not fully in the subspace yet, so she feels a little shy, but she crumbles completely when your eyes meet. 

You slide down to the floor and make Abby put her feet by her sides for better access. The skirt falls between her legs and covers her cunt, and you lean back to look at her. Abby is blushing and frowning in desperation, her nipples are perking through the t-shirt and her plushy thighs are open so shamelessly for you. 

"You stop talking, I stop touching you." You warn Abby and she nods. "Now lift your shirt up." 

Abby does as she told and now this is a sight, her small tits squeezed by the t-shirt, her abs flexing as she breathes deeply. Abby already looks ruined and you haven't done anything yet.

"What is happening there?" You ask routinely and lift Abby's skirt up, revealing her soaked little cunt. You spread her lips open and circle her clit with your thumb. 

"She is- she is at work again." Abby sighs and you hum, encouraging her. "She is talking to the cigarette selling woman." It sounds like Abby is relieved when she finishes her line and you laugh to yourself: your poor baby is trying to be good for you.

You leave her clit alone and push two fingers in slowly, watching her body react to you as beautiful as always. Abby freezes and instead of watching the movie, watches your fingers disappear in her.

"I'll take them out." You threaten and Abby snaps back into watching. 

"There's this creepy guy," Abby swallows hard when you start slowly pumping your fingers in and out. "And she has an idea- fuck." You just curled your fingers and Abby stops watching again, but quickly opens her eyes.

"What's the idea?" 

"She wants the sell- ah, fuck - selling lady and the- the-" You pick up the speed of your fingers and Abby clutches to your shoulders. You reach with your free hand and pinch her nipple, and Abby twitches in response, her pussy clenches on you. "Fuck, it feels so good, ma'am."

"And I'm yet to hear about her idea." You say with a hint of a threat, but your thrusts only get rougher. 

"She is playing matchmaker, ohmygod!" Abby whimpers and in reward you lick the long strip from your fingers buried in her pussy to her neglected clit. You suck on it and Abby lets out a shriek as her knees are closing up above your head. "Fuck, oh god- I can't-" 

You keep sucking on her clit until she is shaking and moaning, but then you move away and take out your fingers. 

"Is she still playing matchmaker?" You ask sternly.  Abby blinks and checks the screen. 

"No."

"That's what I fucking thought." You knead Abby's thighs a little painfully and keep her legs open for you. "Keep talking, princess."

Abby nods feverishly and swallows. Such a pretty fucking sight, you think as you look up to her: Abby's mouth is open and she really tries so hard to watch this stupid movie, but you push your fingers inside again and all her efforts go to waste as she twitches and blinks very fast in a attempt to not close her eyes.

"She is telling the selling lady that the creepy g- fuck-" Abby sobs when you put your mouth back on her. You play with her clit and suck on it again, making Abby buck her hips into your face. "The- the creepy guy is in- ma'am! - is in love with her!" 

You push Abby's legs together and up, almost folding her in half and push your tongue alongside your fingers, getting drunk on her taste. Abby is a smart girl, so she holds herself under her knees to help you and moans when she feels your tongue and your fingers inside.  Abby always tastes and feels like heaven, and you never want to leave her pussy alone. 

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum." Abby whimpers and you get rough, every push of your fingers is moving Abby's whole body with the sheer force of it, because Abby is not behaving.

"Is her idea working?" You suck on her clit again and Abby whines and sobs while forcing herself to look at the screen.

"Y-yes!" Abby shouts and cums on your fingers, sucking them in on every spasm. You pick up the pace and Abby tries to fight you off, but you slap her hand away and fuck her through her orgasm until her thighs are shaking uncontrollably. Abby is whimpering on every exhale, her abs are twitching, and you smile wolfishly.

"You did so good, princess." You let Abby's legs go gently and fix her skirt, smoothing the fabric. Abby looks at you with pleading eyes and your heart swells, so you straighten up and kiss her slowly and delicately. Abby relaxes and caresses your neck, chasing your mouth, and you can’t help yourself as you pinch her nipples playfully. 

“You want your collar?” You ask softly and Abby nods eagerly. “Show me how good your throat is first.”

Bratty Abby is fun, and you like the back and forth of it, but good girl Abby makes you feral: you just told her what you want and she is already opening her mouth for you, sticking her tongue out.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and push your fingers down her throat. 

You fuck Abby’s throat until she is gurgling and her eyes roll back into her skull: you know she likes it, likes to relax her throat and let you use her as you wish. Abby is not even gagging now, so used to it, but you can feel how her throat clenches on you sometimes. Abby looks so cute like this, her tits out, her eyes closed and her thighs pressed together under the skirt as it spreads so prettily around her hips. 

“Beautiful.” You murmur and clean up her spit from her chin. Abby smiles at you, clearly pleased from praise, and you kiss her again as a reward. Abby likes kisses, especially if she is needy, as if it keeps her tethered to you. "Show me your neck, princess."

Abby straightens up and proudly shows you her neck - she is so cute you can't help your giggle. You take out the small belt and Abby looks at you with wide eyes as if you’re her god. 

"Mine." You tell her when you tighten the collar around her neck. "You're mine." 

"Yours, ma'am." Abby answers in a small voice and you see how any rational thought leaves Abby’s head as her eyes get cloudy. "Can I touch it, ma'am?"

"Go ahead." You nod and watch her strong fingers that leave bruises on your thighs brush over the leather with such care. "We're not done, princess." 

Abby nods and you tug on her collar until she stands up on her shaking legs and follows you to the bedroom. There's enough space for your fingers to fit in under the collar, but you're still careful with it: it's a new thing and you don't want to hurt Abby in a way she doesn't want to be hurt. 

You lead Abby to the bed, but instead of getting her to lie down, you sit on the bed and tug on her collar to get her down on her knees. Abby slowly sits on her thighs and fixes the skirt again, and you just can't. She is so fucking cute in it, and you can see the curve of her hips in the mirror, her waist looks tiny and the dips along her spine are so fucking hot. 

You caress Abby's cheekbone with your thumb, adoring her, and she blooms. Abby likes subbing because she's loved so fully at her weakest and most vulnerable like she's never been before - she's literally on her knees, with a collar around her neck and in a skirt and you look at her like she is divine.

"Is your throat good enough for my cock too, princess?"  You ask with a teasing smirk, palming your strap through the fabric of your pants. 

"Yes ma'am. I'll be so good for you." Abby pleads and grabs at your thighs before she remembers herself. 

"Too eager for your own good, huh?" You weave your fingers through her hair at the back, right under the braid, holding her head up. "Come on, get to work."

Abby tugs your pants down and you can see in the mirror how she presses her thighs together when she sees your strap, and that won't do. 

"Spread your legs and arch your back, I wanna see how wet you're gonna get." 

Abby does exactly as she is told, even lifting herself up a little so she could reach your lap, and you see her skirt covering everything. It's a downside, but Abby is smart, so she pushes the skirt to the front just enough for it to go up and your grip in her hair tightens from how sexy she looks. The edge of the skirt is now reaching to the middle of her ass and you see her wet pussy glisten; the contrast of her waist to hips ratio makes her ass look even better, and you feel like you're gonna cum just from watching Abby getting wet. 

"Fucking beautiful." You growl and Abby even shakes her ass a little to make it jiggle. "Focus, princess." You tell her sternly, and Abby arches into you even more. 

You tug Abby's head back and she opens her mouth automatically, so you push your cock inside just a little - Abby wraps her lips around the head and you let go of her hair, letting her run the show and have fun. Abby leaves wet open mouthed kisses along the length of your strap and you hum in approval, petting her head. She is blushing and her freckles look so pretty on her pink cheeks, her eyelashes flatter when she closes her eyes and licks the whole length of your strap. The movements cause the harness to move against your clit and your breathing gets heavier - you didn't expect it to happen, you must've put the harness in a different way - and Abby notices how tense are your thighs under her hands. She makes eye contact with you to check in, and you smile at her. 

"You're doing so good princess, you might make me cum if you keep it up."

Abby whimpers when she hears it - it's very rare for you to even allow her to touch you when you dom her, let alone make you cum, but Abby wants to. She always wants to please you in any way she's allowed to. 

"Please let me make you cum, ma'am." Abby begs, looking at you with her big doe eyes. 

"You can try, princess." You chuckle, not very sure that she can, but Abby seems determined. 

Abby lifts up a little again and lowers her head on your cock, taking as much as she can while she still can breathe, and when she comes back up, the harness grinds against your clit, making you hiss. Abby wiggles in excitement and starts to bob her head up and down, getting dizzy from hearing your panting and hissing above her.

"Just like that, babygirl." You pant and put your hand on Abby's head, slightly pushing the strap deeper. "You can take it, right?" You coo and Abby moans in agreement. "Good girl. Relax for me."

You hold Abby's head by her braid and push your strap deeper and deeper while Abby's eyes roll back into her skull. There is something so comforting about having her throat stuffed Abby can't help herself but to go absolutely slack while you fuck her throat, grunting and panting as your own pleasure builds up. 

"Ride your fingers, princess, I know you want to." 

Fucking hell, you think as you watch Abby pump her fingers in and out in the mirror, her thighs and ass look so delicious with the skirt on. Abby moans and whimpers as you fuck her throat and she fucks herself, and you know you're not going to last long. 

Your grip tightens in her hair and Abby whimpers, and you can see in the mirror how rough she is being with herself, desperate to cum. 

"Fuck-" You whimper and buck your hips up to get more friction and the same time as Abby swallows you down, and the pressure ticks you off right away. 

Your thighs shake and your hips buck, chasing the aftershocks of your orgasm while Abby watches you with wide eyes, her own fingers forgotten. She is not even breathing, absolutely mesmerised by your reactions - she made you cum, she made you cum without even touching you. 

You pant, still twitching from your orgasm, but you find the strength to move Abby away from the strap despite her whining. 

"Come here." You tug on her collar again to make her move and Abby straddles you. "Holy fuck." You whisper when you look at her. "My best girl." You kiss Abby's shoulder and she giggles.

"Thank you, ma'am." 

You smile at her and then lie down on the bed, tugging on Abby's hips so she would move. Abby is bright red - for some reason she is still so shy when you make her sit on your face - but she moves up, until her thighs are by the sides of your face. Abby can't even look at you, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

“Look at me.” You tell her and Abby steals a glance at you, which is not what you wanted. “I said look at me.”

And Abby looks, tries her hardest to maintain eye contact with you as you push her down on your face, burying yourself in her soaked pussy. 

Abby whines when you suck on her sensitive clit since she's been close after fucking herself earlier. You don't waste any time and eat her out messily, getting her wetness all over your face as you devour her, fucking her with your tongue, rubbing and sucking her clit, while Abby writhes on top of you. 

“Oh god-” She sobs and you grab a handful of her hips, pulling her skirt up so you can see her. “I'm gonna-”

And that is exactly your cue to stop, leaving Abby panting and whimpering on top of you. You watch her pretty clit throb from being so close to orgasm and smirk. 

Abby is confused and there's a tiniest hint of hurt on her face: she did such a good job and you are not letting her cum?

You chuckle and signal her to move. 

“Lie down on your stomach.” You tell her and while Abby does as she is told, you fix your harness and grab a pillow to put it under Abby's hips. 

Seeing Abby's fat thighs pressed together with her wet glistening hole between them makes you want to ruin her. The sight of your strong, dangerous girlfriend all shy and pretty and in this damn skirt makes you froth at your mouth like a fucking dog. Abby makes you feel like the most unhinged obsessed creep and the way she welcomes your dark side - as you think of it - is why you would die for her at any moment. 

You can't help the possessive bite you leave on her neck, practically growling into her ear.

“You're mine.” You tell her and Abby nods, shows her neck with a collar on it. 

“Yours.” She whispers and bucks her hips into you, presenting herself for you. 

You line your strap up and push inside, feeling how tight Abby is from being so close to an orgasm. 

“It's a pity you can't see yourself, princess.” You tell her as you watch the head of your strap slowly disappear in her hole. “You're close, aren't you?”

“Please, ma'am.” Abby whimpers and you part her ass cheeks to give yourself a show. 

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.” Abby says and you smile. 

“You can do better than that.”

You're not usually the “beg me” type, but now you want Abby to be desperate. You keep pushing extremely slowly, teasing Abby and moving away when she bucks her hips. 

“Please, I need you.” Abby starts shyly and oh, what a great idea it is. “Ma'am, I need you, please fuck me, only you can make me feel good, please-”

You push all the way in in one go and Abby moans loudly.

“Good fucking girl.” You growl and pick a hard pace right away, slamming into Abby so hard her ass jiggles. Abby sobs and her back tenses: she feels you so deep and she is so tight in this position, and she is so fucking close. You knead her ass through the skirt and just watch your strap disappear in Abby, fucking her mercilessly. 

“Ma’am-” Abby whimpers and holds the pillow under her head for dear life, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Can I-” Abby doesn't get to finish her sentence as your next thrust knocks the air out of her. 

“Cum, babygirl.” You tell her gently while you thrust into Abby's tight little pussy with force, grabbing her hips for stability. 

Abby coils and lifts her ass as her orgasm rips through her body like an electric shock, and you chuckle, satisfied, your movements slowing down. You're not stopping, still moving inside her, and Abby squeezes her thighs together under you, whimpering. 

“Relax, princess, and let me have you.” You murmur into her ear and continue fucking her slowly, watching your strap come out of her covered in her cum. 

Abby genuinely tries to relax, but she is sensitive right now and your cock drags along her walls so slowly it drives her crazy. She likes feeling so stuffed, so full of you, but now she wants to cum again. 

“Ma'am, please go faster.” Abby asks you and you chuckle. 

“You're so impatient.” You tsk and slap her ass cheek lightly, watching it jiggle. “You're gonna cum like this or not at all, understood?”

“Yes ma'am.” Abby says, humbled, but her voice breaks in a moan when you push inside to the hilt. “Fuck.”

You smile and pull out just to push back and Abby clutches to the pillow, her whole body feels like she is on fire. You don't make it easier as your lips travel over her sensitive back, every touch of your hot tongue makes her tighten around your strap and moan pathetically. 

Abby is so close and so, so fucking far away from her orgasm and you know it, so you continue thrusting into her slowly until Abby starts to squirm and misbehave as she pushes back, chasing your strap. 

“Stop it.” You tell her sternly and push her lower back into the bed to stop her from moving. 

“Ma'am, please!” Abby whines.

You tug on her collar quite roughly and press your lips to her ear. 

“Such a brat.” You growl and slam into Abby roughly, making her squeal. “Turn on your side.” 

And that's how Abby ends up being fucked roughly from behind while you squeeze her throat and play with her clit relentlessly, bringing her to the edge immediately. Your pelvis hits her ass at every thrust and Abby whines and whimpers, her eyes rolled back, her head absolutely empty. Abby feels like she doesn’t exist anymore, only your hands and your voice and your cock do - and she feels so fucking good. 

“Ma’am-” Abby moans frantically. “It feels so good, you feel so good, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Is all you can hear between Abby’s sobs. You smile darkly and fuck her harder until she shrieks and cums again. 

But you don’t stop. You keep fucking Abby through her orgasm, you keep fucking her when she whines from being too sensitive, you keep fucking her even when she tries to move your hand away from her clit.

“Ma’am, it’s too much- I can’t-”

“You can take it.” You pant into her ear. “You wanted to cum so much before, so keep cumming.”  

And Abby does, with another sob. She cums again, and again, until it becomes too much for real, and her face is wet with tears. She feels like overstimulation now hurts more than pleases, and maybe you’re right, she has another one in her, but Abby feels exhausted. 

“Yellow.” Abby sniffles, and you stop moving right away, carefully letting go of her tit, but not removing the strap yet in case it will hurt Abby.

“Too much?” You ask her gently and Abby nods. “Does something hurt?” You ask her with such care in your voice Abby wants to cry, because she feels like she could’ve gone longer and now she’s disappointed you. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Abby sniffles, and you get more alert than ever.

“Abby? Can I hug you?” Abby nods and you carefully wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her neck. “Talk to me, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I say something?”

“No- It’s just- It started to hurt and I’m tired- fuck, I’m sorry.” 

“Baby, why are you saying sorry? It’s okay, you did good by using the safeword.”

“I just feel like I could go longer, I should not have stopped you.” Abby admits and sniffles again, ashamed - her emotions skyrocket in subspace.

“I don’t want you to push your limits to please me. How about we stop now, get clean and then cuddle and talk, if you want? How does it sound?”

“We can continue, I just need a moment.” Abby pleads as her guilt grows.

“I don't think we should, sweets.” That pet name makes Abby squeeze her eyes: you only use it when she is not allowed to argue. “It's okay. You're okay. You didn't do anything wrong.” You kiss her shoulder and Abby's head gets a little clearer. “Thank you for telling me, you did so well.”

This makes Abby feel a little better; she nods and squeezes your hand in return. You carefully remove the strap while Abby winces and then you help her get up and go to the bathroom, to shower. 

You take her clothes and collar off, and Abby doesn’t look at you, still beating herself up, but you won’t have it. So when you two get into the shower and water starts to wash the sweat and cum off both of you, you take her face in your hands and kiss her cheeks, her nose, her eyes and forehead, everywhere really. Just small gentle kisses, until Abby smiles and looks at you bashfully.

“You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” You tell her honestly and Abby blushes, but her mood seems to go up. 

You wash both of you gently, carefully going over Abby’s crotch, and she relaxes under your arms. You dry both of you after and help Abby change into her pjs. She gets under the blankets and you kiss her forehead before going to the kitchen and getting some food for both of you. 

When you return with two plates and a big cup, Abby looks sleepily at you, seemingly calm. But you know her, you know how guilt can eat her alive, so you keep being alert. 

“Drink this first.” You give Abby warm water with honey and she drinks it, scrunching her nose from the sweetness of it. Then you eat in comfortable silence, both noticing with surprise how hungry you were - which should not be a surprise by now, really. You finish your food and clean up so you can cuddle Abby and sooth her. Abby gets on top of you and you caress her hair and shoulders absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Abby sounds more sober now too. “I just-” She huffs, annoyed at herself. “I dunno how to explain. I could've gone longer.” 

“I don't want to hurt you. Not in a way you don't enjoy.” You remind her. Abby loves you so much she is scared to fuck everything up, and it led to some problems before, when she put your needs above hers. You talked about it, but sometimes, especially if Abby subs, she slips and does it again. This is exactly why you have a “sweets” rule: to stop her before she hurts both of you with her sacrifices. 

“I just feel like I'm..weak.” Abby admits and you chuckle. 

“You're not. You're a grownup who can tell their limits, and I'm so happy you did.” You say kindly. “I trust you. You were so good for me today, including using the safeword.” You kiss the top of Abby's head and she hugs you tighter. “I'm sorry I didn't check in with you.”

Abby nods and looks up to you. 

“We both agreed to this, right? We literally fucked around and found out.” You chuckle and reach out to grab the honey water for Abby. 

“I know you hate it, but your throat needs it.”

Abby groans and drinks it, absolutely despising the honey: this is the only drawback of getting her throat fucked.

“Did you like the skirt?” Abby asks playfully. 

“Yes. You looked so good in it, god. I got a little crazy.” You kiss her honey lips and Abby smiles into your mouth. 

“Well, next time it's your turn.” She says seriously and you laugh. 

“If you promise to not rip it apart.” 

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || He's Whiney About The Nickname You Have Him Under

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN: 

Ever since the boys had teased Jin last week about the nickname in his phone he'd begged you to change it so you did. Maybe it was petty of you but that's what you did, you changed it back to his full name even if you didn't want to. 

"Why?" He suddenly called out as he stared down at your phone, you were just texting the group chat when he saw his name popping up on the screen.

"Why what?" You mumbled looking at him a little confused as to what was upsetting him.

"Why is my name so cold in your phone?" You glanced down at it, it was simply his full name with no emoji just like he asked you to do.

"What are you talking about? You said you didn't like the nickname." You shrugged your shoulders not seeming bothered by any of this since he'd been the one to tell you to change his nickname from what it was. Besides, "cutie pie" wasn't even that bad, you did find him cute so what was the issue with it?

"I was lying." He whined a little, sitting beside you on the sofa and trying to take your phone from you but you smirked taking it away from him. 

"Well, it didn't seem like it." You mumbled at him.

"Baby, please," He whined, begging a little as he cuddled into your side,

"Please change it back," He looked at you and you bit down on your tongue trying not to smirk at him.

"You said you didn't like the nickname I gave you,"

"Cutie pie was great, please change it back." He whimpered a little and watched as you slowly changed his name back to "cutie pie" with a pie emoji at the end.

"Better?" You smirked before he nodded, cuddling into your side.

"Much." He whispered before kissing your cheek.

YOONGI: 

Last week Yoongi had made a fuss over the name he was saved as in your phone so you'd changed it back to "Yoongi" since he clearly didn't want to be saved as something cute anymore. You don't even remember why he'd been so against the nickname in the first place.

"Can I use your phone to call mine? I can't find it." He asked as he looked around the living room, he couldn't find his phone anywhere and he was beginning to worry a little.

"Sure, you know the password." You mumbled as you continued to look under the sofa for his phone. Yoongi unlocked your phone before letting out a small whine.

"What the fuck is that?"

"What?! A spider?!" You screamed out, jumping up from the floor and onto the sofa in case the spider was around you somewhere but you turned to look at your boyfriend who was still holding your phone.

"What happened to my nickname?" You frowned a little and stared at him, he was the one that told you to change the name and now he was whining about it?

"You said you didn't like "cuddle buddy" anymore so I changed it." You shrugged, getting down from the sofa and looking at the phone as he silently changed it back to the nickname that it was before.

"I thought you hated it."

"I did but I don't like it being just my name." He mumbled calling his phone so the two of you could go back to hunting for it.

HOSEOK: 

"Hobi bear," Yoongi teased Hoseok for the sixth time in the span of 30 minutes but Hoseok seemed to have no reaction to it anymore. The boys had discovered Hoseok's nickname earlier in the night and Hobi had begged you to change it to something other than that so he wouldn't be so embarrassed about it.

"It's not his name in my phone anymore." You shrugged at him and Hoseok stared at you completely dumbfounded.

"What?! Why?!" He called out, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he stared at you.

"Because you told me I needed to change it," You frowned clearly not understanding why he was suddenly so upset about you changing his name back to something normal.

"But that was just to impress the boys. Put it back," He told you as you took your phone out to show him

"You said you didn't like it, so I changed it to "Hoseok,"" You shrugged your shoulders but he was already clicking on "edit" on his name so he could change it back to his nickname, the boys all smirking as they listened to him whining at you.

"And I lied. Please...Please put it back," He begged as you nodded, smirking as you changed his name back to "hobi bear" with a giant smile on your face.

NAMJOON: 

Namjoon wasn't the biggest fan of nicknames for one another so when he'd seen his name saved as "Joon-bug" last week he'd gotten a little moody about it but nothing compared to this. His name was flashed up on your screen and he suddenly felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach. It felt so cold to just see his name on the screen instead of the cute nickname he'd gotten used to over the years,

"Will you change my name back?" He questioned, handing you your phone as you frowned at him.

"What?" You laughed softly taking your phone from his grasp and unlocking it to go onto his contact information.

"My name put my nickname back." He whined out, looking at you as he cuddled into your arms making you giggle a little.

"You can call me it whenever you want, you can name me it, but please...Put it back," He whined, it was rare when you saw whiney Joon come out and you were loving every second of it.

JIMIN: 

"You need to make up your mind," You laughed at Jimin as he followed you around the house. He'd just discovered that you'd changed his contact name to his actual name in your phone and he was acting like a baby about it. As if he wasn't the one to kick off just last week that he hated the name you had him saved as.

"Just change it back," He whined at you, his full whiney state coming out as he watched you closely. You slowly turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow at him,

"You told me you hated it because it sounded like that cricket from the Disney film." You reminded him of what he'd said last week and his eyes saddened a little,

"But it was your nickname for me and I want it back," He pouted as you shook your head at him. You'd nicknamed him "Jiminnie" in your phone because it wasn just something cute and adorable but after what he said the other day you weren't so sure on it anymore.

"I love the nickname please put it back," He begged, holding onto your hand as you let out a small sigh and nodded. 

"I'll do it later," You promised before kissing his cheek softly.

TAEHYUNG: 

The boys had teased Taehyung religiously all week long for the nickname you'd had him saved under in your phone and now they were continuing to do so as you all sat down for a movie night.

"He's not saved as "my alien" anymore," You told them plainly, after the way Tae had reacted last week you'd been quick to change it back to his name.

"What? I'm not? Why?!" He asked suddenly defensive, in truth, the boys didn't bother him with their teasing but knowing you'd changed his nickname to something else was beginning to bug him. How could you change it?! It was something you liked to call him.

"Because the boys teased you." You reminded him but he shook his head at you, reaching for your phone and giving it to you.

"Please change it back, please," He whined out making the boys all chuckle around you as he whined and begged for you to change his name back to what it usually was.

"My alien," You giggled as the boys all began to tease him again but this time Taehyung didn't even care, he just cuddled close to you.

JUNGKOOK:

"What the fuck?" You heard Jungkook grumble from beside you, You looked away from the movie on the TV and turned to stare at your boyfriend.

"What the fuck is this?" He put your phone down on your lap and you stared down at the screen with his contact information displayed.

"Your phone number?"

"Where's the nickname gone!?" He questioned, pausing the movie and staring at you as he awaited your answer but you didn't know what to tell him. Just last week he'd been asking you to change it to something other than his nickname,

"You told me you hated it."

"No. I just said I didn't like it." He shrugged his shoulders, he didn't like it but it didn't mean he wanted you to change it.

"Boo-thang, was our thing." He grumbled, a blush settling on his cheeks as he tried not to get embarrassed about it.

"I'll change it back for you then," You smirked as he wrapped his arms around you while you changed his name back 

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @halesandy @jin-from-the-block @aerastus @namjooningelsewhere @psychosupernatural @lyoongx @royallyjjk @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @laylasbunbunny @ratherbfangirling @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin

[onekmaway]

" 𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙉 𝙁𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙎 "

Rafe Cameron x FWB! Male! Reader

A/N: Was listening to more than friends and eyes don't lie by Isabel LaRosa while writing this :3 Just remember, english is not my first language, so sorry for spelling mistakes and bad wording! also, sorry that it's a bit short :(

CW!: Based on my bot I made! (just click on the word 'bot' for the link <3), this is merely headcanons and brabbles and not a full fic (unfortunately), both SFW and NSFW headcanons/brabbles, this Rafe is heavily based on my bot, not the Rafe in the series, same character, just not personality, do not come for me if his personality is wrong or that he won't do these things. Rafe is 20 years old in this. In public you and Rafe are close friends, in private you are fuck buddies, and in Rafe's head you two are dating (you don't know that though) Rafe is hella possessive and clingy (like badly), slight somnophilia!, mention of violence, Rafe is slightly pervy, Rafe is a bit too much into you, Bottom! Rafe x Top! Reader, reader is a male at birth (AMAB) but otherwise, the gender of reader is not explicitly explained, so can be read as transfem reader (who still has a penis) Words to describe reader: you, your, you're, [name]

‎ ‎‎" 𝙁𝙀𝙀𝙇 𝙐𝙎 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙄𝙉', 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙉' 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙊𝙉𝙀 "

SFW

・☆・ He definitely acts like a jealous girlfriend and an insecure one around you even though he knows the both of you are just 'friends' ・☆・ You were his first friend in kindergarten, and now you're still his closest friend even to today ・☆・ You're basically his first contact in his phone, oh, he needs something? He calls you if you have it. Oh, he done something? You're the first to hear about it, he barely even hides things from you now, you two have known each other your whole lives basically ・☆・ He laughs at your jokes often (even if they're not funny), seeing you happy makes him happy ・☆・ Rafe definitely gets jealous often, especially when another person tries to be in your life ・☆・ Be prepared for Rafe to give someone the meanest and nastiest stare if they try to flirt with you (you're his)

・☆・ Rafe definitely buys you things, clothes and accessories mostly, it makes him smile when he sees even one item he bought you on your body ・☆・ Rafe wears a necklace you bought him, and you wear a necklace he bought you, it's of course matching necklaces (one be barely takes off) ・☆・ When the both of you were younger, he definitely slept over at your house a lot and went to school with you like that, a few days a week at least, barely even in his own house during that time ・☆・ Rafe def likes to cuddle you when ever he comes to sleep over (he still does it even though he's 20 now), he doesn't care if he's the big spoon or little spoon, he just wants to hold you while he falls asleep ・☆・ When he gets hurt, expect him to be already at your doorstep, asking you to patch him up, and while you do it, he just smiles at you, asking if you can also kiss it better ・☆・ Oh, but when you get hurt? Even just a bit? He's already hunting down the person who did it, probably carrying a bat with him too, ready to teach the person a lesson to not touch his friend ・☆・ He has a shit ton of things of you, some he stole, and some you bought him or gave to him, he never even threw the things away you gave him when you two were younger, he still has everything, he would rather die then throw those things away ・☆・ Rafe isn't bisexual, or gay or straight, he's [name]sexual, he's basically only attracted to you, yeah he slept with other people before, but why should he when he has you? He just needs you, all he needs is you ・☆・ He acts like your personal bodyguard sometimes ・☆・ Follows you around like a lost puppy, you're the only one he hangs out with almost everyday (he gets pissed if you're gone for too long, and I mean a literal day, he gets pissed if he doesn't see you or gets to hang out with you for a day)

" 𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙃𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙎 𝙊𝙉 𝙈𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙄𝙎𝙏 𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 "

NSFW

・★・ You were his first wet dream, and you were the first person to take his anal virginity and the last (now he won't let you go) ・★・ Has put some innocent person in the hospital just because they touched your arm and tried to flirt with you

・★・ Has wrapped the necklace you bought him around his cock, stroking himself with it wrapped around his cock, watching it glistening with lube, knowing that your hands was on the necklace at one point before you gave it to him. ・★・ Thinks about you when he hooks up with a girl, you can't leave his head- and it's the only way he'll even cum during sex with the random girl ・★・ Often masturbates to pictures of you ・★・ Did I mention that Rafe just loves to stare at you? Thoughts going inside of his head, some innocent... some not so innocent, imagining you naked, his eyes going over the bulge between your legs, or going over you hands, imagining your hands wrapping around his neck while you fuck him ・★・ His favorite part of your body is your hands obviously, he always imagines that his hand stroking his cock is yours, or that your fingering him when he fingers himself (it's never the same feeling) ・★・ When Rafe sleeps over, be prepared to wake up with either his hand or mouth wrapped around your cock, and when he sees that you're awake, he'll only claim that you were "hard" when he woke up so he decided to help you out ・★・ Rafe loves to ride your cock, it's his favorite position, his other favorite position is probably prone bone, he loves to stuff his face into his pillow while you pound him from behind- hell, wrap your arm around his neck and choke him like that, he absolutely loves it ・★・ Rafe definitely hints that he wants to wake up to you fucking him, since you woke up so many times with him pleasuring you, he wants you to do it back to him, as almost like payback ・★・ Rafe doesn't really care where the two of you fuck, just not visibly in public, maybe in bathrooms, or secretly grinding against each other in the library, but he does not want to be caught, scared that it'll ruin the Cameron name

・★・ Would suck the soul out of your body through your dick, especially when you're trying to game or on a call, he likes to tease you like that ・★・ Oh, but if you do it to him? If you suck him off like it's his last day on earth? God, he is whiny, he wouldn't even be able to talk with anyone while you suck his cock, not even if he tries to block the noises with his hand, you'll still hear him whimpering and whining about how good it feels ・★・ Loves it when you cum on his face, he'll even stick out his tongue while you paint his face white with your cum (don't get it in his hair though, or he won't talk to you for 10 minutes straight) ・★・ Only watches porn if one of the people in the video looks like you, even if just slightly, or if they don't show their face, but he'll still watch it if the person's body matches yours ・★・ He probably wouldn't leave the business to be your househusband (one day, he prays, he seriously does), he'll want YOU to stay at home while he works, one he can come home to, eat some of your delicious food and then get all the stress pounded out of him <3

★☆ all works belong to @onekmaway, do NOT steal, copy or repost anywhere without permission from ME personally. ☆★

[whimsickool]

RATING THE ENTITIES ON HOW FUN THEY'D BE AT MONOPOLY:

1.  The Flesh - 1/10, wont stop trying to use severed body parts as its player token, houses, and hotels. This would be fine if they werent so fresh and thus staining the board. Brought meatloaf and refused to specify what meat was actually involved. We agreed to order pizza instead.

2. The Desolation - 4/10, is a sore loser and barely wants to play as intended. It mostly keeps trying to flip the damn board and when finally realizing its temper tantrum won't work, they just give all their assets to one player to tilt the game unfavorably like a dick.

3. The Lonely - 5/10, didn't show up on time, didn't play, and mostly sat on the couch for all of game night watching reruns of Golden Girls. This is due to the lonely feeling one gets when realizing you'll never have friends like The Golden Girls. They still get a point for watching though.

4. The Dark - 2/10, at first they just kept flipping off the lights which made it hard to play but when The Desolation suggested candles (the only helpful thing they did all evening) The Dark responded by leaking dark water all over which got the money and chance/community cards wet.

5. The Spiral - 6/10, just enjoyed going around and around and around on the board, sorta played? Mostly lied about how much money they had or owed or what chance/community card they pulled. This was because, "math is for losers." Thus, they did whatever they could to quickly get back to going around and around the board.

6. The Vast - 4/10, played the game, didnt perform any antics, but they kept pointing out their vast amount of wealth  after getting hotels on the first row. Points lost for being a prick.  I will say, from time to time, I would get the over whelming feeling that I was falling. This wasn't a large issue until it happened to The Spiral and suddenly no one can seem to find the bathroom in petty revenge.

7. The Slaughter - 0/10, killed the pizza man. This provided two major headaches: a deadbody to deal with and the pizza being ruined from being dropped. Luckily, The Flesh found use for the dead body. As for dinner, we resorted to just munching on the snacks. Also, its really uncomfortable being threatened whenever they happen to land on your property and owe you rent.

8. The Corruption - 3/10, always brings rotten snacks covered in mold. Uses live bugs for pieces which aside from being gross is just not effective cause they dont stay still. How can I recall that their property has three houses when the peices are crawling on my wall? I also just think it is common courtesy to shower before coming over to game night.

9. The Hunt - 8/10, overly competitive but focused on the game and largely helped wrangle the others. Did keep making references to Wolf of Wall Street though which got old quick. It is worth mentioning that they also talked alot about their various hunting trips and buddies which was fine at first until they started describing a recent hunt that I think may have been my coworker who went missing last week.

10. The Eye - 2/10, cheater. Fucking. Cheater. I didn't even know you could cheat that many ways in Monopoly. Also they brought the lead pipe from a Cluedo board as their game piece and kept giggling when I asked why. Further, it is rude to pressure a trade deal by use of blackmailing. Had a lengthy argument about how technically you dont have to draw from the top of the Chance and Community Chest pile

11. The Buried - 8/10, dirt everywhere and I can't be certain but I think they made my chairs smaller? Maybe it was the table? I felt far too close to everyone. I will say they did mostly play the game but you will feel buried beneath your debt after landing on their property which... now that i think about it.. why was their rent so high? That can't be right..

12. The Web - 7/10, much like insects spiders are NOT a suitable game piece. Didn't technically cheat but managed to get ridiculous trade deals from everyone, especially The Spiral. The Desolation gave all their assests to The Eye to screw over The Web but.. to be honest the game is still going and I.. is it possible to have a stalemate in monopoly?

13. The End - 9/10, played the game but kept saying we should up the stakes by having losers die. I explained that this was the sort of game where if it goes on long enough, death is actually the preferred alternative. They understood and got really quiet for awhile. I think they are to blame for why I'm up past my bedtime. I'm growing afraid they'll all still be playing by next week.

14. The Stranger - 6/10, tried to pretend they were my mom. I know they arent my mom. So they taunted me bu saying they were my dad. This was effective as I don't know my dad. Asshole move. Also, would not stop commenting how dry my skin looked. Other than that, yeah actually played the game!

15. The Extinction - 0/10, when it was finally time for everyone to leave we all learned why Extinction had not shown up. Bad news, the outside world has been nuked. The good news is that I don't think I have to pay rent anymore. Or go to work. Oh god. What do I do about groceries?

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education ( platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

summary : when castiel curious nature after watching adult movies leads to a strange string of questions and learning of their sex lives . 

warnings well there is really none just awkward sex talk . this is more a drabble   

What was supposed to be a normal ass day of research ended up more strange then any hunt well it definitely up there . She wanted to prove dean wrong but walked in on castiel doing his own research . eyes locked on the screen , while head tilted in confusion and a woman's moans filled the room making the two freeze to their spot. 

" is he watching..." her voice trailed off .

" porn yeah , we've got an angel watching porn " dean shook his  head .

" erm cas buddy that stuff is not for the communional area's more privacy of your own room " she winced as the sound of skin slapping got louder.

" if the pizza man truly loves the babysitter why does he keep  slapping her rear ?"  he turned to the red faced  hunters standing before him .  " perhap she has done something wrong" he added. 

" cas turn it off please" she asked quicker and louder ,making cas stand and her to gasp . " oh my ,dean does he have " she turned to the man .

" A boner yep " he snorted .

" Cas why are you watching this " she asked sitting across from him noticing his eyes trail to her chest.

" You can't watch porn in a room filled with dude's and Y/N " the older winchester chuckled wondering would sam believe him .

" I was bored and bobby told me to borrow a video out of his room" he looked even more confused what was wrong .

" Well good to know i can never look bobby in the eyes again " she felt her cheeks heating up giving the situation.

" Is sex like this in real life " he asked making her wishing she went on the supply run .

" no never , i mean the girls finish for one  and those moanS so fake " she snorted making dean shoot her alook .

" A Man never made you finish " he asked curiously.

" Cas you can't ask a chick that ... but yeah what "he said  turning to Y/N for some help .

" No they have not anyway's  cas sex is nothing like these movies their just fantasized version  that people mainly watch to well get off " she explained awkwardly again wanting to leave the room as soon as she could. 

" Alone so don't whip it out " dean added seeing the angel looking down at his crotch .

" Do you watch it " cas asked looking straight at her.

"  i mean yeah i do sometimes " she smiled weakly seeing deans face light up .

" That's hot sweet girl " he winked .

" that made it move " Cas looked down at his crotch .

" Oh kill me now " she cried as dean doubled over laughing .

" Do you like your rear slapped " Cas asked still filled with questions.

" ok ok why is this aimed at me " she stood.

" I mean trench coat baby has valid questions so sweetheart does spanking get you going " dean teased finding the whole thing amazing . 

" wouldn't you like to know " she winked before leaving the room before the angel curiosity killed her . 

" Hey i wanted to know " dean yelled just as sam walked in almost dropping the bag of groceries  when he had seen what was on the screen .

" Why are you and cas watching porn " he arched his brows .

" Cause he found it in bobbies room  and was curious and just to clarify he was watching it not me " dean snorted.

" Does Y/N like her rear smacked she wasn't clear on her answer " castiel asked standing and to full attention still .

" Ithink i'm going to go back to the store , maybe never come back " sam walked back out the door.

"damn it cas go fix that or have a cold shower" dean huffed leaving the angel standing confused to what was going on  and why everyone was so uncomfortable .

...........

To say dinner time in the bunker was filled with tension was an understatement . all eyes on their plates to bobby's confusion , hell Y/N hasn't looked at him once .

" Ok what the hell happened here  did you walk in on those too having sex or something " he gestured to dean and Y/N .

" No Y/N has never finished in sex " cas said easily .

" someone seriously just shoot me " she groaned.

" i'd let you finish princess " dean winked.

" Erm cas may have gotten his hands on a special movie from your room and it lead to some interesting question mainly aimed at our female hunter " sam explain.

" Pizza boy and babysitter really man " dean asked as bobby's eyes found his plate really interesting all of a sudden.

" I'm going to eat in my room and never talk to you guys again except sam " she ran out the room with her plate.

" Hey want me to join you for dessert" dean called .

"  Fuck off " she yelled back .

" Thank god we don't have a HR department " sam muttered. 

" She never gonna talk to any of us again " bobby face was beet red knowing his niece now knew what he had in his room .

" Who even has porn  dvds anymore " .

" I fixed my boner earlier alone like you said " cas said as the other  dropped their forks . 

" I'm joining Y/N , you guys deal with this " sam ran down the hall . 

" is he going to smack her rear ?  ".

" Ok no more porn questions ever watch it in your room in private and never tell us again and stop asking y/n sex questions before she  leaves us altogether" dean deadpanned.

" We're definitely going to hell for getting an angel hooked on porn " bobby mumbled. 

part two

[yourfatherlucifer]

Shark Bait (Hongjoong)

Shark Hybrid!Hongjoong x Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Living in a world full of different creatures and humans, some mixed together, creating hybrids. You were just a mermaid though, an ancient tale from the sea. He was something every human feared, even merfolk feared. But you fell in love, how could it be so forbidden?

Warnings: Talks of species violence

AU: Hybrid

Genre: Fluff

WC: 900+ (unfinished)

Rated: PG-13 for violence

Nets: not tagging because I didn’t finish this story and I just want to get it out of my drafts.

“Mom, look at this thing I found! It looks like it was from the pirate era!” You shoved a goblet in front of your mothers face, “Must be some kind of cup?”

You pulled it back to examine it further. Your mother shook her head.

“Y/N, we talked about this, I understand you like your scavenging, you’re an adult you can do as you’d like, but please, take it somewhere else.” She folded her arms.

“I don’t like those human objects. They just bring misfortune.” Her tail swayed behind her.

You had rolled your eyes at him before clutching the found object to your chest, “And what misfortune do you speak of mother? It’s a cup.”

You loved living in the ocean, though, you had no idea what land life was like anyway. Still, you loved the shiny sea life, the coral, the seaweed, the little treasures you’d find at the bottom of the ocean.

Some you’d even bring to your little siblings, they’d love the gifts. Sometimes they’d even wanna go on a journey with you, but you or your parents would never allow it. They were still very young and there were dangers that lurked in the waters.

Despite being friendly with the sea life, there were still some that didn’t like you. The sharks for example, especially the great whites. They loved to harass the merfolk.

So you had to be careful when investigating ship wrecks, making sure there were no bodies. You always felt bad for the humans who got lost at sea, so you’d guide them back. However, there were always the bad humans, the ones that would try to capture you for your body, to take you as a trophy or a ‘pet’.

That didn’t stop you from loving your life and exploring. Your parents considering you to be adventurous, they always worried about you, scared you’d get hunted by a shiver of sharks. You never did though, you were always careful.

Your mother scoffed at you, she was almost seething with anger, "It doesn't matter, Y/N! You are always going into the dangerous waters without thinking! Just to get your stupid trinkets, that we have no use of! What, what are we gonna do with a goblet!" Her arms thrown up.

You couldn't understand why your mother was being like this, you were always safe, nothing had happened, ever.

“Y/N, please. Just listen to me. Your step father and I care for you and are worried of your adventures,” you could feel the ‘air’ turning somber, “I’ve never told you what actually happened to your father.”

After so many years, she was finally going to give you answers? And for what? Just to stop you from having fun? It isn’t right. You never grieved your fathers death, because you never met the dude. So what does his death have to do with anything?

Your mother took the goblet from your hands and brought you inside your cove home, "Listen, your father was the same way, he loved his little adventures, just as you do. That's where you got it from," she took a deep breath, "He'd always bring me little presents when I was pregnant with you."

She smiled as she recalled those delightful memories.

"But one day he didn't return. He was with some buddies, on yet another adventure for me presents. He wanted to some stuff for you to have."

You could see her emotions unraveling but continued to listen, "When he didn't return for hours, I was so scared. Then his friends came here. Without him."

"They told me they were attacked by sharks. Your father was the only who didn't make it. Said he distracted the sharks so they could get away."

At this point your mother had tears streaming down her face, even if you couldn't tell with the water.

When she wiped her tears away, she stared at you once again, "That is why I don't like your adventures. These attacks on our people are getting too common. I don't want to lose you, Y/N, you're all I have left of your father. I hated those trinkets after he passed."

-

Even after the talk with her, I still didn't care, I didn't know him. I was always careful anyway, never once have I come across a shark, maybe a nurse shark but they're friendly. It was the great whites, goblin sharks, tiger sharks and other sharks that were aggressive.

I had found another shipwreck, ways from the last one I discovered earlier, this looked fairly new, couldn't know exactly when it sank though.

It was a smaller boat, looked like one those humans partied on, what did they call it? Yacht, I think? Wonder how it got sunk.

Humans could be idiots when it came to anything.

I wedged myself inside, careful not to catch my tail on anything. There were a few shiny things, a small rectangle about the size of my hand, I think the humans called these phones, not too sure. It was useless underwater, so I just placed it back where I found it.

While searching for miscellaneous objects, I didn't realize the boat had been swarmed by sharks. My predator.

Once I had stopped searching, I turned to make my way out, only to be met with huge jaws, razor sharp teeth, and pale gray skin. A great white shark. The King of the seas.

I swam back further into the boat and in response the shark mauled the small entrance with its mouth, trying to get to me. Oh my god, I should've listened to my mother, now I am going to die just as my father did.

I cried out in fear, I didn't want to die.

As the shark approached me, something pushed it out of the way, I could hear shouts, "Back off! Didn't I tell you to stop killing the mermaids!"

You poked your head out in confusion, what was going on?

The figure swam up to me, I could finally figure out its features. It was a boy..about my age. He’s beautiful. However, he adorned a fin on his back and razor sharp teeth.

He held his hand up to me but I slowly swam back into the boat, “Hey! Wait, it’s okay! I’m not going to hurt you.”

He smiled, “My name is Hongjoong, I’m a shark-hybrid. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna do anything, I just wanna be your friend.”

UNFINISHED