#but that's. not how plants work. so i took it in a different direction

[asktotallyhuman]

What does Boomer eat? Do Creepers need a hyper specific diet?

"All I have to do is bring him on my rounds with me, and he should be fine."

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

[babygorewhore]

I’ll follow you until you love me.

The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.

Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.

The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.

He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.

Taglist for this!

@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake

If I forgot about have mercy I am tired

[godslino]

IN CONTROL | jeongin established relationship. college au. smut. minors dni.

pairing: jeongin x fem!reader word count: 4.7k warnings: explicit content, swearing, soft!dom jeongin, unprotected sex, sex toys (vibrator), public humiliation (kinda), fingering, piv, spanking, creampie summary: jeongin buys a new toy and decides to test it out in the library

· · · ♡ masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

“This is the best idea I’ve ever had.” Jeongin mumbles, his eyes dark, trained on your every move.

Jeongin is a menace, insatiable, constantly finding different ways to turn your sex lives up a notch or two when he has the time. And tonight, he’s trying something new.

Well, you both are.

The library is unusually busy for a Friday night, you realize, as you squeeze your thighs together and pull your bottom lip tight between your teeth. Jeongin’s still watching, probably has spit pooling in his mouth at the sight of you squirming in your chair. He does little to hide the slight upturn of his mouth, and it only serves to turn you on more.

There wasn’t much that could have prepared you for what he had waiting the minute you strolled into his apartment earlier, his eyes sparkling when you planted an innocent, unknowing kiss on his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” You had asked, raising an eyebrow when his smile only grew.

“We’re still going to the library tonight, right?” He asked, hand on your waist as he caged you in against the counter of his kitchenette. His fingers flexed atop the fabric of your jeans, already excited, itching to touch.

“That’s the plan. Unless you don’t want to, but I really need to study for my philosophy debate next week and—wait. What is that?”

“Surprise.” He said, pulling a small box out from behind his back. You let your eyes dart between him and the gift, something like anticipation swimming around in your gut. It wasn’t a holiday, or an anniversary, and Jeongin really only ever got that look in his eye when he—

You pulled the lid off, eyes going wide at the site of a pair of lace underwear sitting in a bed of tissue paper. Beside it, a small remote.

“Is this…”

“Mmhm,” Jeongin hummed, placing the box on the counter so he could pull you in by your hips for a kiss.

Painfully slow, his tongue worked your mouth open with force, cock already pathetically hard beneath his sweatpants at the mere thought of having you at his full disposal.

���You put these on before we leave, and if you show me that you can handle it,” he paused, dropping his voice an octave lower, the resulting growl enough to send a shiver down your spine, “I’ll bring you back to my place and reward you.”

That’s how you found yourself here, seated at a table towards the back of the library, the soft lull of a vibrator against your core as Jeongin controls it with a remote hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

“You seem to be—mmnf—enjoying this.”

Jeongin smirks, wets his lips. Even with the way his hair falls into his eyes, it’s hard to miss the hunger in them.

“You have no idea.”

Despite his outward facing, saccharine sweet demeanor, Jeongin harbors an almost animalistic desire beneath toothy grins and shy rubs to the back of his neck.

When you first met, you found him cute and quiet, too reserved to even spare a glance in your direction for the most part. Not that you were any better, but to say you were shocked the moment you and Jeongin finally fell into bed together is an understatement.

Of course, it took a few times for him to let loose, to feel comfortable enough to let go and have you take him fully, but once he did he couldn’t stop.

Jeongin is all rough hands and filthy words, guttural moans and spit stained sheets from when he gets too drunk on the taste of you that he can’t be bothered to clean it up. The worst part? You love it. You love the praises he whispers and the secret touches he gives when no one is looking, love the way his eyes will find you from across the room and undress you inside and out, your stomach twisting and turning from just a single upturn of his lip. Jeongin throws your world on its head, satisfies you in ways you never thought possible.

“Jeongin—ah.” His name comes out as a broken moan, the vibrator pressed tight between your legs. He must be cranking it higher, the sensation getting more and more intense, the squeezing of your thighs barely enough to contain it.

“What was that?” He asks innocently.

Jeongin leans back in his chair, far enough for you to see the way his hand twitches in the pocket of his sweatshirt, a stronger vibration following immediately after. “I didn’t quite catch what you were trying to say.”

Torture. That’s the best way to describe this. Jeongin’s been edging you for the past fifteen minutes, waiting until the last second, when you look like you’re about to come undone, only to lower the setting and leave you whining behind the screen of your laptop as you hide your face. It was more bearable when he had it set to a constant speed, but now, you’re barely managing to hold it together

You’ve waited too long, pretended to be taking notes for what feels like forever, when you finally decide to beg him for relief. “Jeongin, please, can we—”

“Hey lovebirds!”

The world, seemingly against you, decides that now is the best time to send a crescent-eyed Hyunjin waltzing up to your table. He’s got one hand wrapped around the strap of his bag, hair tied back into a ponytail, and he looks an awful lot like he has enough free time to make small talk. How cruel.

Unsurprisingly, Jeongin’s smile grows. The vibration increases between your legs. Fucking hell, he looks like a kid in a candy store, teeth on full display. “Hey Hyune! What are you doing here?”

“Oh Innie, I ask myself that every time Old Yeller over there tries to sweet talk me into taking her granddaughter on a date.” He jerks his head in the direction of the help desk where Mrs. Jung is already staring at him over the top of her glasses.

Hyunjin rolls his eyes before turning his attention to you, “Long time no see, y/n. Tell Yang to start bringing you along to hangouts so we can talk about him behind his back.” His eyes disappear into his smile, and you do your best to reciprocate.

“She would never.” Jeongin says, eyes narrowing in your direction at the exact moment the vibrator begins whirring with more intensity.

You take a deep breath, white-knuckling around your pen as you fight to suppress a moan, “Mmhm. Sure thing. Sounds fun. I’ll make sure to be there next time.” You pause after every few words, giving yourself just enough time to collect your bearings as Jeongin continues to wreak havoc against your throbbing core.

Hyunjin, bless his heart, doesn’t seem to notice. He smiles—beams even—before his eyes fall to the open philosophy book next to your laptop. “Oh, shit, you’re in that class too? Must be a different section than mine, but I haven’t even started reviewing anything. Seungmin’s going to beat my ass before the debate.” Jeongin’s thumb brings the vibrator up one notch. “Do you mind if I take a peek at your notes for a sec?”

Yes, you want to say. But you can’t, you know you can’t. And, more importantly, Jeongin knows you can’t.

“Yeah sure, I—hah—it’s uh, it’s all in here.” You say quickly, turning your laptop a bit so he can see the screen.

“Fucking bless. You’re a lifesaver.” Hyunjin says in relief, oblivious to your little slip up.

Jeongin saw it though, heard the way the moan almost fell from your lips. He’s been painfully hard the entire time, straining against his underwear, cock swollen from how badly he’s turned on. Hyunjin showing up doesn’t do much to help, only adds to the thrill of it all. You look so pitiful trying to hold it together, trying to hide how good you feel. To hide the way Jeongin is controlling how good you feel.

You’re being good for him. So good. He could bend you over the table right now if he wanted, fuck you so the whole student body can see for all he cares.

You visibly relax when Jeongin brings the intensity down, your legs shaking as you slowly relieve some of the tension off of your aching thighs. The knot in your stomach is still there, sitting on the precipice of release as the dull hum of the vibrator continues. You’re so close it’s almost terrifying, unable to predict what you'll do when Jeongin finally gives you the satisfaction of letting go.

As if he can read your mind, Jeongin’s foot knocks against your shin under the table. You shift your gaze up to him, cock an eyebrow as if asking What? Done for now? to which he replies with a wink. Challenging. You lick your lips. Jeongin’s dick twitches in his pants.

“I don’t know why,” Hyunjin says, squinting at the screen, “But I have this feeling that Professor Kang is going to give our class the question about free will. Like, whether or not we have it. So if I was going to argue from the standpoint of compatibilism, that means I’m only speaking for instances where external constraints are absent, right?”

“Well, yes,” you begin, leaning in closer, “But you have to remember that compatibilism doesn’t mean that humans are free, though. Always make sure that—” Jeongin’s foot starts sliding up your leg, stopping right at the inside of your knee, “—that, uh, you don’t confuse your stance with one of the other three perspectives.”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “Yes, but, if there’s an absence of external constraint shouldn’t that mean they’re free in a way? The constraints are what’s stopping them, no?”

You blink hard, eyes fixed on the screen as you try to refocus your attention on what Hyunjin is saying. “Y-Yeah, but, sometimes you—” Jeongin’s foot slowly pushes your knees apart until your legs are spread wide beneath the table, enough so that your folds are no longer separating the flat side of the vibrator from your clit. He gives no warning, no time to process what’s happening until your entire body jolts forward from the force of the vibration against your now exposed clit.

“Woah, are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, eyes wide. You let out a few hesitant breaths as you straighten back out. Jeongin’s foot is firm against your left knee, forcing it open as he innocently fiddles with the corner of his notebook.

He’s playing a dangerous game, tiptoeing the line between teasing and just being downright cruel. Jeongin supposes that the ideal situation would not be for you to come undone right here at the table, Hyunjin’s eyes on you as he waits for a response, lips parted in confusion and concern.

“I’m fine I’m just—”

“Actually, we have to go.” Jeongin cuts in, glancing at his watch. “I forgot that we have a dinner reservation at seven. Must’ve slipped my mind. You can email him the notes, yeah babe?”

You blink at him in surprise, swallowing when his foot trails the length of your leg until it’s resting back on the ground. The vibrator turns off, and Jeongin lifts his eyebrows in a silent signal.

“Y-yeah! Of course,” you turn to Hyunjin, “Sorry, I don’t mean to cut it short. You can definitely text me if you have any more questions though.” Your voice is strained, throat tight with anticipation. Jeongin is looking at you like he could eat you alive, and it takes everything in you to not moan right then and there even without the sensation of the vibrator against you.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah totally. I don’t want to keep you guys any longer,” Hyunjin says happily, his eyes taking on that familiar shape, “Have fun you two! Also, Yang, I’m watching you. You’d better invite her out with us next time!” He calls out, pointing two fingers at his eyes before turning them in Jeongin’s direction as he walks backwards towards one of the study rooms. Jeongin gives him a lazy wave before focusing his attention back to you.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, not bothering to lead in with anything else.

Jeongin doesn’t say anything, just starts shoving his things into his bag. You watch him for a few moments, eyeing him carefully. Is he…mad? No, right? There’s nothing you could have possibly done to piss him off. If anything, you're the one who should be mad at him for making you look like a fool in front of Hyunjin.

When it’s clear that Jeongin isn’t in the mood to talk, you slowly start packing up your own things. Your legs feel like jelly once you stand, aching from the knot of arousal that’s still sitting low in the pit of your stomach. Jeongin lets his eyes trail your body before he pushes away from the table.

“Come on, let’s go.” He mumbles, eyes dark. You open your mouth to say something but he pays no mind, just grabs your hand and heads straight for the door.

//

The walk is silent. Jeongin only grunts in greeting at the person behind the front desk of his apartment building, hurriedly making his way to the elevators as you struggle to keep up, his grip on your wrist the only thing making sure you’re close behind. Jeongin doesn’t say anything during the ride up to his floor, either. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react.

You’re at your limit when he punches his code into the keypad of his apartment, flinging the door open and ushering you inside. You’re about to confront him, about to turn and ask what you did wrong and apologize for whatever it might’ve been when he slams the door shut and yanks you by the wrist, pulling you with enough force to have your back against the wood in a matter of seconds.

One hand above your head, palm flat against the door, Jeongin uses his other to cradle your jaw and slam his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. Your hands fly to his hair immediately, tangling themselves in the softness of it, pulling slightly to elicit a groan out of him just the way you know he likes.

“Did so fucking good,” he mumbles against your lips as he drops both of his hands to press your hips further into the door. “Gonna reward you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel good. Give you what you want.”

You clench around nothing as his words shoot straight through you, nothing but heat spreading throughout your entire body as his mouth works hot against your neck. You squeeze your thighs together for something, anything to relieve your want for more.

“Jeong—fuck, please.” You whine when his hand slips into your pants, and you feel him smile against your neck.

“Look at you begging. Always so good for me, so needy.” His fingers grip the end of the vibrator as he slips it out of the pocket of the underwear and tosses it somewhere on the floor.

You gasp, your eyes flying open. “You’re going to break it.”

Jeongin chuckles, “I’ll buy another one.”

“You can’t just waste money on that.” You groan and pull his head back by his hair, “I bet it was expensive too, wasn’t it?”

“I’d spend any amount of money if it meant I’d be able to see you look that fucked out in public again, baby, trust me.” Jeongin smirks. “Now, can you ride my face or are we gonna continue to argue about my financial responsibility?”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, smirking when Jeongin’s eyes flicker to them. He takes it as the okay, drops to his knees, and smiles in satisfaction at the hiss that leaves your mouth once he pulls your jeans down to your ankles and the air hits the wet fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighs, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to each of your thighs. Your legs start shaking almost immediately. “Can’t believe you’re mine.” He mumbles as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband and pulls them down your legs, helping you step out of it.

Jeongin cups his hands under your thighs, thumbs pressed to the inside of them, and then spares one last look up at you through thick lashes before he’s leaning in and licking a stripe up your folds. You nearly collapse then and there, but his hands hold you up, grip firm.

“Holy fuck,” you groan. Jeongin hums against you, licking and sucking at your clit like his life depends on it. He feels like it does. He can’t help but pull back and admire how red and swollen you are, sensitive as hell from all the edging, your wetness practically leaking all over his chin. He lets you fist at his hair as incoherent words tumble from your lips, lets you grind your hips into his face as he stiffens his tongue so you can fuck yourself on it, his nose brushing your clit every so often and sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It’s good, so fucking good, Jeongin’s always known how to push your limits in a way that has you trembling and craving more.

“Right there,” you gasp, your thighs clenching as you shake in his hold, your peak reaching faster than you expected it to. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Jeongin flattens his tongue and begins lapping at you pathetically, bringing a hand up to start pumping two fingers in and out of you at just the right angle. You cum all over his fingers, hot white flashes clouding your vision as your hips stutter, his left arm keeping you firm against the door. He lets you ride it out, sucks lazily at your clit until you’re jerking with every touch of his mouth to your core, too sensitive for him to continue.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before standing up, hair completely ruined and pupils blown wide with desire. He leans in to kiss you, more gentle this time, and he laughs into your mouth when you all but melt into his arms and he has to tighten his grip to hold you up. You moan when he tilts your head back and licks your bottom lip, to which you open for him, and he kisses your own arousal into your mouth.

“Think you can keep going?” He asks.

You don’t answer, just snake your hand in between your bodies and cup him through his sweats. He’s hard, practically straining against his underwear.

“Your turn.” You whisper, walking him backwards until the backs of his knees hit the couch and he falls on to it. He spreads his legs wide, watches with heavy eyelids as you stand before him and remove your shirt, leaving yourself fully exposed for him to see.

“God you are…” he trails off when you move towards him and climb onto his lap, grinding your hips down against him and no doubt leaving a wet spot on the outside of his sweats, “…fuck.” He groans, throwing his head back as he presses his thumbs into your hips to help you press down harder.

“I’m what?” You ask when you begin trailing kisses down his jaw, loving the way his stubble scratches against your lips. You suck at the spot just below his ear, still grinding against him.

“Everything I’ve ever fucking dreamed of.” He sighs.

You pull back until your noses are barely brushing and stare into his eyes for a moment. “What?” he asks as he starts rubbing circles into your hip bone with his thumb.

“Nothing I just…” you trail off, eyes still searching his as he stares back at you with an overwhelming amount of adoration.

“…I just really want to suck your dick right now.”

Jeongin barks out a laugh, loud and punctuated, before his head falls forward onto your shoulder and the remaining giggles are nothing but choppy breaths that ghost your nipples.

“What?” You laugh, hitting his shoulder. “I’m serious!”

He picks his head back up to look at you, eyes disappearing into the smile that’s on his face, and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “I know, I know, I just—I love you, that’s all. I. Love. You.” He punctuates every word with a kiss, but you chase the last one until his lips are slotted against yours hungrily once again, his hands dropping to cup you from behind.

You inhale deeply before sliding off his lap, dropping to your knees on the floor in front of him. Jeongin lifts his hips just enough for you to help him slide his sweats and underwear off in one fluid motion and then yanks his sweatshirt over his head, leaving him fully naked and sinking back into the couch cushions. With his legs spread wide, cock hard and swollen pink against his stomach, messy hair and wide eyes, you think about just how lucky you are to call him yours, to be able to have him in every way possible.

Without wasting too much time, you rest your hands on his thighs and lick along the underside of him, tracing the vein there with your tongue and then sucking off the precum at the tip. “Shiiiiit,” Jeongin moans, throwing his head back.

You grab at the base of his cock and take him fully without warning, sinking down until he hits the back of your throat. He’s big enough that he fills your mouth completely, spit dribbling out of the sides as you work the bottom half of him with your hand, moving in time with your lips as you bob your head up and down.

“Holy fuck, shit, fuck,” the words tumble from his lips as he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head. You look up at him, a single tear spilling from the corner of your eye. He watches with parted lips for a second before pulling you off of him, a string connected to where spit is pooling on your chin.

“I am not,” he says, out of breath, “Cumming unless I’ve got you around my cock.”

You smile as you scramble up and onto his lap, planting your legs on either side of him. He raises an eyebrow in question, “Aren’t your legs tired?”

“Not for you they’re not,” you say as you reach behind, your hand using your leftover spit to pump him a few times. “Now shut up.”

Jeongin laughs and puts both hands behind his head, arms on full display as he leans back, “Yes ma’am.”

The moans you both let out the minute you sink down on him is so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed. If his neighbors didn’t already know what you were doing, then they definitely do now. Jeongin’s shoulders are firm where you anchor yourself to him, using his body as leverage while you ride him to high hell.

“Jesus Christ,” he gasps, his hands finding your breasts immediately. Sometimes you forget how big Jeongin’s hands are, both of them cupping you completely, only your nipples peeking out between his fingers as he kneads your chest.

“Bet you liked knowing how wet I was for you while I was talking to Hyunjin, huh?”

Jeongin won’t admit it, but he loves it when you talk to him like this during sex. He likes to feel in control, likes to have his way with you, but on the flip side he loves when you take initiative too. You can feel him twitch inside you at your words, his hips jerking upwards to meet your movements.

“You liked knowing you were in control, that you could make me cum at any second and I’d have to hide it, maybe squeeze my legs to stop myself. And the poor guy, he wouldn’t have a clue. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if I started whimpering and shaking, would he? And it would all be because of you.”

Jeongin responds by bringing a hand down on your ass with a loud smack, your body jolting forward into him from the force. It only spurs you further, your knees on fire from exertion.

You can feel the mark blooming, a big red handprint sure to be visible by the time you wake up tomorrow morning. Part of you wants to get it tattooed there, to have a permanent reminder of Jeongin on your body, to always know what it feels like to be wholly and unconditionally his.

“God you’re so fucking nasty,” he all but growls into your ear, his mouth hot as he connects his lips with yours, tongue licking eagerly into your mouth. “Close.” He grunts.

Jeongin sees stars when you lean back and prop yourself up on his knees, planting your heels into the couch on either side of him so you can fuck yourself onto his cock at a better angle. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing mercilessly while he bucks his hips up to meet your movements halfway.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

“Jeongin—!”

The sensation of you clenching around him as you cum makes Jeongin’s own release follow shortly after, both of you moaning and swearing as you ride it out together. He lets you fall into his chest, rubs a soothing hand up and down your back as you both attempt to calm your breathing and reel yourselves back to reality. His skin is sticky with a sheen of sweat, your own forehead damp and legs shaking.

Jeongin sighs and brings a hand up to tangle in your hair while his fingers massage your scalp. You pull back, staring at him in confusion.

“What?”

Jeongin blinks a few times before he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’ve definitely ruined me for anyone else.”

Although he meant it in a sweet, endearing way, you narrow your eyes and poke a finger into his chest. “Why are you saying that as if ‘anyone else’ is even an option?”

He throws an arm over his face, “You know what I meant.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I do—”

“You literally just rode me into oblivion. I bought you vibrating panties just so I could—”

“—I can’t believe that after I just broke my knees for you that’s the first thing you say!”

Jeongin bursts into a fit of giggles when you dig your fingers into his ribs, squealing when he tosses you off of him and you roll on to the side of the couch. “Okay, okay! Let me make it up to you, just stay there.” He says before disappearing into the bathroom. When he reamerges, he’s got a wet washcloth, which he uses to wipe you down before kissing the pout off of your face.

Not long later, when you’re both showered and he’s got you draped across his lap in a pair of his sweats and one of his hoodies, Jeongin chances a tap on your shoulder.

“Hmm?” You hum sleepily.

“So, you never explicitly said it, but on a scale of one to ten…if you were to rate my gift…”

You huff out a laugh, turning so that you’re on your back in order to look at him. “Definitely a ten. Could do without the borderline public humiliation next time, though.”

Jeongin leans down to press a kiss to your lips, smiling when you wrap your arms around his head to hold him there for a while longer. “Noted. As long as you never say one of my friends’ names during sex ever again.”

“Why? You sounded like you liked it.”

“Shut up.” Jeongin groans, resting his forehead against yours. It has to be an uncomfortable position, his entire body hunched over at nearly a ninety degree angle to even reach you. “I was balls deep inside of you when it happened. Completely out of my mind. But then, when I was in the bathroom taking a piss five minutes ago I was like, what the fuck? So yeah. No public humiliation as long as I never have to hear Hyun—”

Jeongin’s phone vibrates a total of three times on the couch next to him, cutting him off. He eyes it for a moment, confused as to why anyone would even be messaging this late, and then laughs when he finally picks it up to read what was sent.

“Speak of the devil,” he scoffs before turning the screen towards you.

hyunjin

yo yang

sorry to bother

you think y/n could email me those notes now?

© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.

[aestheticaltcow]

Healing

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

This one went in a different direction than originally planned ngl. There isn't a lot of smut but I like how I ended it... MDNI 18+

The Bear Masterlist

Previous part

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide the pleasure you felt when Carmy finally erupted inside of you. Carmy’s whimpered moans filled your ear as he nipped at your jaw the way he knew you loved. You sighed as you let your fingers run down Carmy’s toned back. 

When Carmy pulled out, you felt his ejaculation ooze out of you, and regret washed over you. You should have just walked down the hall to your room and pretended you never saw him jacking off with your underwear while he watched a video of the two of you hooking up. You watched him lay next to you and catch his breath before rolling on his side to face you. You reluctantly copied the move and stared at him. 

Carmy gently pushed your bangs away from your face before planting his hand on your cheek. You bit your lip, trying to hide the soft smile on your face. He grinned and took a shallow breath before admitting, “I’m going to work my ass off every day for the rest of my life to prove how sorry I am.”

You nodded in response and moved closer to him. Carmy’s hand left your face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he rolled onto his back. “I love you, baby,” he mumbled into your shoulder as he snuggled you as closely as humanly possible. You nervously swallowed, “Carmy… I don’t think I’m there yet…” you felt his body shift below you. “O-okay.” he stuttered, “Can-n you lay with me a little longer?” 

“Of course, Carm.”

~

“Mia, I need you to eat your breakfast,” you sternly explained as Mia threw pieces of egg on the floor. “Baby girl, come on.” You sighed as you crouched in front of her high chair before taking the fork from her hand. She wiggled, trying to get away from you as you stabbed the sliced banana in front of her. “Mia, let’s have a good morning that starts with a good breakfast.” 

“Are you trying to bargain with our ten-month-old?” Carmy laughed as he stood in the kitchen doorway. You rolled your eyes and stood up, “You try. She’s bein’ so fussy this morning.” Carmy shook his head and went up to her. Mia’s hands immediately started grabbing in his direction, “I swear, I carried you for nine months. 22 hours of labor, and a c-section, only for you to love him more than me… you’re lucky you’re cute.” you playfully teased Mia before planting a kiss on her chubby cheek. Her giggles lit up the room as Carmy pulled a chair beside her, “Okay, princess, let’s eat.”��

As you ate your breakfast, you watched Carmy feed Mia. Something was different about him. You leaned back against the counter and really looked at him. He wore one of his slightly too-tight T-shirts and a pair of black jeans with the same gold chain he’d worn every day. As you scanned his body, you saw it: He was wearing his wedding ring. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him wear it. Something about it made you feel uneasy.

~

“Hey, Carmy… when you get home tonight, do you think we can talk about some stuff?” you asked as you adjusted Mia on your hip. Carmy looked at you like a deer in the headlights and hesitantly nodded as he picked up his backpack from the ground. “It’s nothing bad… just about last night and some other stuff,”  you explained, hoping to alleviate some of his anxiety. Carmy nodded again and slung his bag over his shoulder. He stepped forward and kissed Mia’s head before playfully punching your arm, “Bye, girls…” he grinned before ducking out of the house for the day.

Carmy drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel of his car as he sat in traffic on his way to work. What did you want to talk about? Last night was everything he wanted. The two of you had sex for the first time in almost a year, the two of you slept in the same bed for the first time in months, and for a minute, Carmy had everything he’d wanted. He should have deleted Selena’s number when he got in the car that day. You were going to leave him; that’s what it had to be.

Throughout the day, Carmy was distracted. He was thinking about the conversation the two of you were having that night. He should prepare a speech. Should he buy you flowers? If he left early, he could stop at your favorite bakery and pick you up a sweet treat. Prep, family, and dinner service were a blur. He heard people talking to him, but none of what they said made sense; it was like he was back in school. Everything was going in one ear and out the other. He just needed to get home.

When Carmy walked into the house that night, he felt his heart rate accelerate. He quietly pushed his jacket off and stepped out of his shoes before walking back to your bedroom. You sat in bed doing something on your computer. Carmy sighed before making his presence known. He saw you sitting in the middle of the bed with your hair wrapped up in a microfiber towel, your face shiny from skin care products, and your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. “Hey baby.” he weakly grinned as he approached the bed. You grinned at him and closed your computer, “Hey Carm.”

“Still wanna talk?” Carmy asked as he shoved his hands into his pant pockets. You patted the mattress beside you and watched as Carmy pulled his hands from his pocket and sat on the edge of the mattress. “Carmy, I want-” You were cut off by Carmy standing up and pacing the space between the bed and closet door. He pushed his hands through his hair, took a deep breath, and looked at you with his fingers still tangled in his hair. “Baby. You can’t leave me. I know I fucked up, but please give me a second chance-”

“Carmy! I wanna go to couple’s counseling.”

~

“I understand that you didn’t have sex with that grocery store whore, but you went to her house with the intention to. And that’s what I’m hung up on.” you calmly explained as you watched Carmy sit back on the ugly cranberry couch in the therapist's office. The two of you had been going to therapy for a little over a month at this point, and while a dialogue was created, he just didn’t understand why you couldn’t move past it.

“How does that make you feel, Carmen?” the therapist questioned as they fidgetted with a pen.

“I’m confused. You kicked me out for like two months, contemplated divorcing me, and then you let me come home and sleep with me, but you’re still ‘not there’ when I tell you I love you. We’re spending a lot of time together as a family, but when I try to hang out with just you- you get weird. Like last night, I sat next to you on the couch and you got up because you ‘had to check on a rendering video’; then you didn’t come back. You act like nothings wrong around Mia or family, but when we’re alone, it’s like you’re in a different universe. Look, I know I fucked up. I just want to know what I need to do to make it right between us. I get we can’t go back to exactly what we had, but do you even like me anymore?” Carmy looked at you while on the verge of tears. 

“Y/N, is there anything you want to say?”

“Carmy, I care about you so much and value our relationship, but right now, I’m just frustrated. I would never cheat on you, and the only reason you didn’t cheat on me was because you ‘couldn’t get hard’... I just- I don’t know what I need from you right now. I really appreciate you agreeing to this, and you’re a wonderful father, but I just don’t know.” you explained as you picked at the hole in your jeans. 

~

Carmy opened the passenger’s door for you, and you quickly slipped into his car. He walked around and slipped in the driver’s seat, “We should start planning Mia’s birthday party.” you brought up as he turned on the car. Carmy nodded in agreement as you grabbed your phone from your purse, “I have a couple of Pinterest boards for party inspo. Since she’s not gonna remember it, we don’t have to go all out, but I like the idea of doing ‘My Berry First’ birthday party since my baby shower was also kinda fruity themed-”

“You don’t like me anymore.” Carmy spat, cutting you off midsentence. “What?” Surprised by his statement, you put your phone down and looked at him. He sighed and pulled over into a 7/11 parking lot. You watched as he tilted his head back and stared at the car's roof before slowly blinking. “Baby. Do you like me? Do you actually want to spend time with me? The only thing we do together anymore is go to couples counseling. You never want to go out to dinner or run errands together- the only time I fuckin’ see you is when we’re doing something with Mia. You say you love me and want to reconcile, but you don’t like me.” Carmy rubbed the back of his neck before glancing in your direction. 

You’d turned in your seat, bringing your left leg up to the seat awkwardly sitting on it, “Carmen… I just- I don’t know. I like you, and I love our family, but it’s just hard.” you began to explain. “Listen, Carmen, I don’t want to divorce you. There’s just this tension- I don’t know how to explain it to you. I look at you and see the man I’ve been with for, like, what, seven years? But then I start thinking about you and that fucking whore. I think about how you didn’t tell her you were married. I think about her kissing you and touching you- it makes me wanna fuckin’ puke.” 

You took a deep breath before continuing, “Carmy, I like you. I’m just- not there yet….”

~

“Hey, I’m gonna go to bed,” you said, poking your head into the living room. Carmy nodded without looking up at you, “Night.” he said as he flipped to a different channel on the TV. You stood against the doorway and watched as he stared at the screen lifelessly. With a sigh, you walked into the living room and stood beside Carmy. He was unphased; you needed to up the antics. You stepped closer and swiftly straddled Carmy’s hips, which thankfully got his attention. Carmy swallowed when you put a hand on his collarbone, “Hey.” you halfheartedly grinned. 

Carmy took swallow breaths as he stared up at you. He allowed himself to rest his palms on your hips before fanning his fingers out to grab the fat of your ass, “I’m not really in the mood, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him, “I swear Carmy… I like you. If I didn’t, I woulda never come up to you at that bar. I wouldn’t have agreed to be exclusive. I wouldn’t have moved into that shitty apartment you had. I wouldn’t have given up that job opportunity in California. I wouldn’t have married you or had your baby. I like you as a person, partner, father to my child…. Let’s spend some time together.” 

~

You rubbed your lips together after applying a layer of pink-tinted lip oil. Your hair and makeup were as good as it was going to get. After slipping on a red barely long enough to cover your butt dress and a pair of black platform boots, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You smoothed down the bottom of your dress and grabbed a slightly oversized light-wash denim jacket along with your bag, “Let’s fuckin go.” you said as you walked out of the bedroom.

Carmy was in the kitchen with Mia on his hip. She had a fist full of his tank top in one hand and one of her stuffed animals in the other. When he heard the dryer go off, Carmy gently put her down, “Race ya?” he asked, hoping to tire her out enough for Donna to keep up with her. Mia plopped on the floor and stared up at him, disinterested in doing anything to make his morning easier. Carmy laughed and walked to the laundry room just off the kitchen. He grabbed a short-sleeved button-up shirt and slipped it on before throwing the rest of the clean clothes in a laundry basket. He felt nervous. It was silly, though- it’s not like he’d never had a date with you. He took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen to see Mia playing with Tupperware; he shook his head and swiftly scooped her off the floor. Mia dropped the container on the floor and grabbed at Carmy’s ear.

“You look pretty,” Carmy said as you sat in the passenger’s seat of his car after strapping Mia into her car seat. You smiled and pushed your bangs back, “You noticed…” you teased. Carmy chuckled as started backing out of the driveway. He put his right hand against your seat as he looked over his shoulder. You held your breath when you noticed his jugular bulge from his neck. 

You were looking out the window when you felt Carmy reach over to your lap, you glance down to see him intertwine his fingers with yours. A blush came to your cheeks as he squeezed your hand softly, you bit your lip and rubbed your index finger between his knuckles.

Dropping Mia off at Donna’s always made you nervous; she’d changed since Natalie had started having kids, but you were haunted by her drunken rants criticizing Carmy for being with you and how you must have only been after his money. You laughed to yourself as you watched Carmy walk Mia into the house. She grabbed in your direction, her adorable little smile shining past the shield of her pacifier. You waved back before Carmy entered the house. 

He came back to the car and pulled his phone out of his pocket to connect to the car’s bluetooth, “Where are we going on our date afternoon?” you asked as you nudged his shoulder. Carmy grinned at his phone as he scrolled through his Spotify playlist looking for a song to play, “If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.” he hit play on his phone and pulled away from the curb.

~

A couple of donuts and a walk through the park led you and Carmy to a secluded bench by a pond. “Have we brought Mia here?” you asked, unsure of the familiarity of your surroundings. Carmy nodded, “Sorta—you were pregnant with her.” 

You smiled and scooted closer to him, snaking an arm around his waist. Carmy smiled and threw an arm over your shoulders. “It’s weird. We have a one-year-old. It feels like I was pregnant with her yesterday.” 

“It is. If you could change anything—aside from the obvious—what would you pick?” Carmy asked into your hair as he kissed the top of your head. You thought momentarily, “Well, besides the obvious, I don’t think I’d change anything. We have a pretty cool kid.”

Carmy rubbed your bicep as the two of you watched ducks swim in the pond. Carmy brought his free hand to your chin, pushed it up with his index finger, and brought his lips down to yours. Before the two of you could kiss, he softly whispered, “Can I kiss you, baby?”

Instead of answering, you pressed your lips to his. He kissed back immediately and pulled you closer to him. You cupped his face in your hands as Carmy pulled you onto his lap; your stomach fluttered as Carmy’s grip tightened. As you separated your lips to allow your tongue to slip into Carmy’s mouth, you felt his phone vibrate against your hip. Carmy wanted to ignore the call and risk getting caught for indecent exposure, but when you reluctantly pulled away, he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw Donna’s name flashing across the screen. “Looks like Grandma Donna is at her Mia limit.” he chuckled and answered to have his assumptions confirmed by an overwhelmed Donna and a crying Mia in the background. 

You got up from Carmy’s lap and smoothed down the back of your dress. He swallowed when he saw a peak of your butt cheek as you stood up. “We’re on our way, Ma.” he quickly said into the phone, cutting Donna off mid-sentence before hanging up.

 “We can pick up where we left off later,” you say, biting your lip. Taking Carmy’s hand in yours, you trek back to the car and retrieve an overstimulated Mia from Grandma Donna’s house. By the time the two of you had gotten her to calm down and eat, the mood was gone, but Carmy had promised to make it up to you the following weekend.

~

“Dam, I thought the view from behind was good, but it’s even better up here.” some Andrew Tate-looking man greeted you. You internally cringed as you noticed how he looked at you like a piece of meat. You rolled your eyes and waited for the bartender to finish the drinks you’d ordered. “Can’t even get a hello?” the man questioned you, stepping forward. You scoffed, “I don’t owe you shit- maybe my husband’ll say hello to you.”

“I don’t see a husband anywhere. Don’t play so hard to get a sexy girl. Why don’t you come back to my booth?” His slimy offer disgusted you. You shook your head and slipped the bartender a $20 before taking your drinks back to the small window table you and Carmy had been sitting at. Carmy was outside on the phone dealing with some issue down at the restaurant; he shot you an apologetic smile.

While Carmy was wrapping up his phone call, the man from the bar strode up to the table to convince you to go back to his booth. You weren’t having any of it. “Where’s that husband of yours?” he questioned, sitting where Carmy had been moments prior. You gestured outside; Carmy had his back to the window as he listened to Richie’s nonsensical problem.

“That guy? The one on the phone who’s not even looking at you? I don’t believe you, sweetheart.” he purred as he relaxed into the chair opposite of you. You rolled your eyes and held your left hand up, you wiggled your ring finger; “Say that to the ring on my finger.”

“Come on, baby girl. I just bought a bottle of 925 Diamante Ley. Do one shot with me, and then you can decide if you want to come back to your ‘husband’ or not.” as he reached out to touch your bicep, Carmy cleared his throat. You looked up at him, immediately relieved. The guy looked over his shoulder, and Carmy glared at him, “Get a fuckin’ clue asshole. This is my wife and the mother of my child. Fuck off before I need to make you fuck off.” 

The man looked Carmy up and down before shifting his attention back to you, “Oh hell fuckin’ no. Don’t need that nasty stretched out-” he was cut off by Carmy shoving the guy out of his chair. “Don’t fuckin’ dare finish that dam sentence. She’s a fuckin’ angel, and you should even be allowed in the same room as her.” Carmy spat as the guy stumbled back to his feet. “Yeah, whatever, man- she’s not even that hot.” he scoffed as he pushed past Carmy. You reached out to grab Carmy’s hand as the man walked out of earshot, “He’s not worth it, Carm.” you spoke softly as you squeezed his hand in yours, “Can we just get out of here?” 

Carmy looked back at you, nodded, and pulled you to his side. As the two of you walked out of the bar, you couldn’t help but notice the scuzzball trying to get another table of girls to come back to his booth. You rolled your eyes and wrapped an arm around Carmy’s waist as he directed the two of you back to the car, “Fuck that dude.” Carmy mumbled as he closed your door after you’d gotten into the passenger’s side.

“You know your pussy isn’t ‘stretched out’ or ‘nasty’ right?” Carmy asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over the two of you on the drive home. You nodded, “I know Carmy.” 

When Carmy parked in the driveway, he turned his head to look at you. He put a hand on your thigh and squeezed gently. You placed your hand on his and sighed softly before asking, “Do you wanna take a shower with me?” 

Carmy laughed, “Baby, if I ever say no to that question, have me committed.” You rolled your eyes and opened the car door. As you walked to the front door, Carmy was hot on your heels. Before you could open the door, Carmy wrapped his arms around your waist. You put your head back against his shoulder, “Pay the sitter… I’ll start the shower.” 

Carmy nodded and kissed your cheek before dropping his arms, allowing you to open the front door. You quickly walked down the hall, quickly poking your head into Mia’s bedroom before heading back into the master bedroom. Carmy stared at your ass as you walked away. He sucked in a breath and went into the kitchen to see the babysitter sitting at the kitchen island reading out of a beat-up history book, “Hi, Mr.Berzatto. Mia was a little fussy, but I got her down.” she began to explain. Carmy nodded, not really absorbing anything she’d said. He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out to Venmo her for the night. “Thanks, kid- Y/N or I’ll call you next time we need you.”

You stood in the bathroom in your underwear, waiting for the shower to heat up and for Carmy to join you. Carmy locked the front door and grabbed the baby monitor from the kitchen counter before barreling down the hallway. When he got to the door to the master bedroom, he took a breath and slowed down so he wouldn’t come off as overly desperate. Walking into the bedroom, he put the baby monitor on your dresser before kicking his shoes off and stripping to his underwear. As he walked to the askew bathroom door, he ran his tongue over his teeth when he noticed you looking at your reflection in the mirror. He noticed you pulling at the skin on your stomach with a frown. Carmy huffed and softly opened the door more. You looked over at him as he stepped further into the bathroom. His hands found your hips and lifted you onto the counter, “So fuckin’ sexy, baby…” Carmy muttered as his lips crashed onto yours. You were taken by surprise but allowed Carmy to wedge himself between your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“Carm- showers on…” you manage to get out after pushing his chest away from you. Begrudgingly, he stepped away and pulled the shower curtain open. “Oh god, you’re trying to boil us alive.” Carmy laughed as he pulled his hand away from the water. You rolled your eyes before hopping off the counter. After removing your bra and underwear you stepped into the shower. Carmy pushed his boxers down and joined you after turning the heat down. 

~

“Can you sleep in here Carmy?” Carmy’s heart stopped as the words left your mouth. He nodded softly trying his hardest to not come off as desperate. You saw through it immediately and playfully nudged his shoulder as you walked past him into the bedroom. Carmy looked in the mirror and pushed his wet hair back with his hands, a goofy grin was plastered on his face at the realization that he’d managed to get back on your good side. 

When Carmy joined you in bed you immediately scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I missed this…” you mumbled into his chest as you snuggled closer to him. Carmy chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

“I missed this more, baby,” he responded as he pulled you onto his hips. “I love you. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but hurting you was the worst,” he said as he held you. “I’m never going to hurt you like that again.” 

You nodded and pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Staring down at him, you saw the Carmy you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. “You’re not gonna get a third chance, Berzatto. Fuck up again. I’m cutting your dick off.” you threatened, much to his amusement. He shook his head, chuckling, “I won’t need a third chance, baby.”

“Good. I love you, Carmen. Don’t make me look like a fool again.”

[mionemymind]

Lost in the Universe (Part 1)

Summary: Y/n is transported to a different universe and by chance, meets the Wanda that inhabits it.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Slight Angst?

A/n: I know I haven't written in a while. But recently I've been on a surge to start writing again. I hope you all enjoy and please tell me honestly how you feel about it. Hopefully, I'm not too rusty.

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

Part 2

Y/n dropped into a new universe, barely landing on her feet. She scrambled to find balance as the portal above her closed. “What the fuck?” Y/n wiped off her hands as she looked around the unfamiliar area. 

“Are you lost dekta?” Y/n spun around at the sound of her voice. A smile plastered on Y/n’s face when she saw Wanda. She took a couple of steps when she felt something was different with the girl in front of her. “Wanda?”

The brunette chuckled at the obvious confusion. “It’s me dekta.” Y/n still grew apprehensive. She looked around the location she was in. They were on a simple farm surrounded by acres of grape trees. There was a barn and home in the distance and sheep and cows grazed the plain. “I don’t think you’re my Wanda though,” Y/n said as kindly as possible. It was scary to be in a new world without a clue as to how they operate. Even though Y/n knew that the woman in front of her wasn’t exactly her Wanda, it still gave her some type of peace knowing there was a version of her here. 

“And you’re not my Y/n.” Y/n’s nerves eased with the comment as Wanda broke the distance between them. “So let’s get you back to my home and figure out how this happened.” 

“Make yourself at home.” Wanda took off her dirty boots at the front and walked to the kitchen. She took the kettle out from the drawer and filled it with water. “I’ll make you some hot chocolate. Is that your favorite in your world?”

“It is!” Y/n yelled from the front of the house. She took off her shoes and jacket, hoping to not get the house dirty. The entrance of the house led them into a decent-sized living room filled with various decorations and plants. 

Y/n didn’t mean to snoop but she couldn’t help but look at all the photos framed on the wall and tables. The first photo that caught her eye was a picture of young Wanda and Pietro back in what Y/n could guess was their hometown. She picked it up and analyzed it in detail.

“I miss him,” Y/n whispered to herself. Wanda noticed this as she walked in with two cups of hot chocolate. “We were only five in that photo. I think we went to the zoo that day. Probably one of our better pictures when we were younger. Everything else is either him or me or the both of us crying.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Wanda nodded for approval, “is your Pietro still alive?” Wanda could sense this was a sensitive subject and gave Y/n one of the cups while directing her to the couch. 

“Yes, my Pietro is still alive. Currently, he’s away on work.” Y/n gave a small smile, the feeling of missing Pietro grew inside. “I’m happy to hear that.” Y/n took a small sip of her hot chocolate, making sure not to spill the hot drink on herself. 

“So your Y/n likes hot chocolate?” Wanda smiled in agreement. “Yes, my Y/n does like hot chocolate. She’s the only reason I have some. I’m just glad that part of her is with you as well. I hope it finds you comfort though because it must be scary to be in a completely different universe.”

“Well,” Y/n thought maybe lying would help ease her anxiety, but the presence of Wanda, even though it wasn’t necessarily her Wanda, made her want to tell the truth, “it is scary. I’m just hoping they find me. But you have been pretty calm for this whole ‘I managed to drop on your farm out of all the locations in this universe’ thing.” 

“Your humor appears to be the same no matter the universe,” Wanda playfully said. “But the reason I’m not freaking out is because in this universe, I’m aware of my other counterparts. Luckily enough, you dropped into a universe where I have my powers.” Wanda proceeded to show off her magic, covering Y/n in red swirls momentarily. 

“Are you able to drop me back home?” Wanda politely smiled, setting her cup down on the table nearby. “I’m sorry dekta. I unfortunately don’t have that type of power as of yet.” 

Y/n sighed in defeat, her anxiety coming back with worried thoughts. Wanda reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand in a comforting manner. Even in different universes, Wanda Maximoff cared for Y/n Y/l/n. This was a simple fact that would not change. “However, your Wanda is currently on the hunt for you.” 

“She is?” Y/n placed her cup down, her hand still interlaced with Wanda’s. “The rules of the universe don’t allow any conversation to happen between each other but we can still feel each other. So when you dropped into my world, I could feel the slight imbalance. But, you just happen to be dating one of the most powerful people in the universe.” Y/n blushed at the compliment, already knowing that she was lucky to even date Wanda in the first place. 

“And the perk of dating powerful people is that we can feel other things in different universes. Right now, I can feel her dropping into other universes, trying her best to find you.”

“What if she can’t find me?” Y/n pouted. Wanda smiled even more. It was refreshing to see that their love expanded beyond her world. Wanda cupped Y/n’s cheek with her free hand, “This is something I will share only with you.” Listening intently, “You and your Wanda have a special connection. Think of it as a tether. Right now, she’s tugging on that tether hoping that if she continues to pull on it, it will lead back to you. No amount of magic, power, or science can cause this tether to break. It might be a little tangled with how many universes you might’ve accidentally gone through, but she will reach you in time.” 

“So believe me when I say this dekta, Wanda will always find you.” Wanda kissed Y/n’s forehead and proceeded to get up. “In the meantime, my Y/n is away on a mission. You’re free to stay here with me until all of this gets sorted out.”

Wanda walked back to the front of the house, putting her shoes back on. “Is there anything I can do to help out while I wait?”

“Wanna help me with the goats?” 

After a long day of work, Wanda and Y/n lay in the hammock near the campfire, admiring the stars that the night offered. “When I looked at your photos, I noticed none of them were of just you and I, how come?” 

Wanda blushed at the directness and was thankful that it was nighttime. “You see, my Y/n and I aren’t dating yet.” Y/n faced Wanda with a ridiculous look. “Are you serious? How come I haven’t confessed? If there’s a world where there’s a you and an I, then we must be together.”

“I’m not sure. We bought this farm together to get away from the city and have some peace time before they spring our next mission on us. Even then, she doesn’t seem to have the courage to confess.” Wanda sighed, her patience was running thin but she knew it was worth the wait. 

“Do you need me to get myself together?” Wanda laughed at the offer, clearly imagining two Y/n’s talking to each other. “I’ll probably be the one to have to confess first if she doesn’t do it soon.” 

“Just to be sure, does the Y/n here like you like that?” 

“Oh, I’m more than positive that my Y/n likes me back,” Wanda cockily states. 

“What makes you so certain? Back then, it took me forever to confirm that my Wanda even liked me.”

“Cause within our tethers, I can feel her. I’ve only ever felt her. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to tie me to her if she didn’t feel the same way.” There was more to the truth than Wanda could let on, because in every universe, Y/n and Wanda always fall in love with each other, no matter the circumstances, no matter the era, and no matter the time. 

“I didn’t know the universe could be kind like that.” 

They continued to star watch when a red portal in the sky opened up and out came two figures. One landed roughly as the other descended slowly onto the ground. Y/n and Wanda got up from their hammock and walked towards them. 

“Wanda?” Y/n yelled out in the distance, hoping it was them and not an alien invasion. “Y/n?!” Wanda came rushing into Y/n’s arm, feeling her worries slip away as she finally was with her again. “I thought I lost you,” Wanda stated with worry. Today had been a long day for her and America Chavez. Hopping from universe to universe was hard, especially with a young teen that has no clue how to control her powers. 

“You could never lose me,” Y/n stated confidently. Wanda pulled back from the hug and sealed a kiss, one that made both of their knees weak and minds numb with love. Pulling away slowly, pressing their foreheads against each other, Wanda said, “Let's go home dekta.” 

Y/n nodded in agreement and intertwined their hands. They walked back to the portal but not before Y/n waved goodbye to this universe’s Wanda. “I hope she confesses soon!” 

Wanda smiled back in return and waved. Telepathically, Wanda said, “Thank you for taking care of my Y/n.” 

“Anytime, Wanda.” 

Part 2

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam @olsensnpm @tquick99 @feolok @emilyprentisslittlewhore @mvddison99 @iamapotato @shadowybailiffdreamer-donkey @yuhloversxx @mjaudrey @upsidedowndanvers @somewhatgreatexpectations @wandavixen @second-try-stevie @magicallymaximoff @username23345 @coollemonsaresour @littlewinchester15 @aimezvousbrahms @afuckingshituniverse @am-just-a-cosmic-joke-to-me @ohmygooddamnbisexualmood @diaryoflife @s7uts @newyork1432 @the-anxious-stargazer @hello-mtf @marvelousbelladonna @ima-gi–na-tion @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @the-camilucha @itsnottilly @171611 @kaitlynroseb @daisybri7 @drpepperobsessed @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @marvelousbelladonna @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xastrydx @chasethemoon @naixia00 @lostandsearching @stupidsapphicsstuff @haechanana @the-camilucha @severepeanutartisanhands @owloftheshadows @somewhatgreatexpectations @ywuen @mixed-fandom-mess @loomontoia @ilovemarvelwomen @isitallreallyworthit @coxmicbabygirl  @cyanide-mustard @mrs-avenger3000 @prentisshoe @andrea-stark @simpforwandanat @abimess @randomshyperson @yourtaletotell @magically-queer-stuff @imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​ @olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00

A/n: I just used the same tag list from Fake Memories. If you didn't want to be tagged, I'm sorry.

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Paid Internship (Part 1)(Prison AU)

Author's Note: This is a Prison AU that the viewers of my blog seem to be pretty fond of. The main focuses for the romance parts will differ depending on the part, but for part 1, it's Liu, Jeff, and Toby. The reader is gender neutral and uses She/He stuff, but sometimes depending on what's going on I'll use stuff like Tits. Also, Sully will be in the fic, but I won't use his name. Pay attention to how Liu talks, they will be major differences between his first meeting and his interview.

Author's Note 2: This is definitely one of my longest and most plot heavy fics on my account. I do plan for this to be multi parter, so this part will be heavy on introducing the characters. This part will have some yandere moments, but they will be mostly prominent in part two. If you wanna be tagged for part two, leave a comment, or reblog.

Summary: Welcome to your paid internship at Roosevelt Federal Prison. After being seen for your potential and skills by your instructor at the Academy, he decided to give you opportunity of working in the US' most dangerous prison despite the disapproval and rejection from the higher ups. However, due to miscommunication and faulty paperwork, you're gonna up working with some of America's most danger serial killers for the semester.

Warnings: Descriptions of crimes, Rape Mentioned, Perversion, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Sadism, Violence, Implied Nudity, Kidnapping, Implied Abuse, Hostages, Death, Murder, Threats, Mood Swings, Sexual Abuse Implied, PTSD, Mental Illness, Dealings, Attempted Murder, Survivor's Guilt,Cursing, Sleep Deprived Workers, Stress, Agression, and More. This AU is not fo the faint of heart.

Word count: 13.5k

Links: {Masterlist} {Prison AU Introduction}

"Hey kid, you ready?"

You were taken out of your train of thought by your instructor and mentor, Officer Joseph Gibbons. Joseph was a man in his 50's, his once hazelnut hair now started to fade into a light grey, he was a man on the heavier side, plump like a mall santa clause, and despite his uniform being quite clean, it was covered in the smell of cigarettes and men's colone.

"...Not really. Are you sure I'm ready for this?" You asked, fiddling with the sleeves of your uniform.

"Ready? Out of the students at the Academy your the most ready for this. Any other Prison just wouldn't do you any good."

"Any go-"

"And we're here!" Joseph exclaimed, cutting you off mid sentence as he walked out.

You took a deep breath before walking out of the car. When you stepped out, you were greeted with heavy rain and loud thunder. As you looked up at the Prison, you felt a sense of fear hit you. It was like something straight out of a horror movie. The Prison was massive, you could probably see it from miles away if not further. Various plants were taking over the brick and metal walls, you could see officers walking around with flashlights, making sure nobody was trying to get in or out, two large guard outpost stood high on each side of the building, each of them blasting a bright light, and a large metal barbwired gate keeping whatever was inside from getting out.

"Joseph!" A voice yelled from the distance, causing the two of you to shoot your heads in the direction of the noise.

Whoever the voice belonged to, they were running towards the two of you pretty fast, waving their arms around like a lunatic.

"Esther, my dear friend. How the kids?" Joseph asked with a smile as he hugged the man.

Now that the man was closer, you got a better look at him. He had short red hair, a face full of a freckles, a small beard slowly starting grow in, and he was definitely younger than your mentor. He was maybe in his late 30's, early to mid 40's. He was in well shape too, his biceps peeking through the gaurd uniform he wore. He had a pistol, taser, and handcuffs strapped to his waist band on the right side of his body, meaning he was most likely right handed.

During your first year at the Academy, you were taught to see every single detail in a suspect or in a scene, no matter how small or big it was, and now you found yourself doing it like it was second nature at this point.

"They're good, they're good. Havent seen them for a while though, I've been stuck here all week! Now, where's this prodigy you've been pushing for?"

"Esther, meet Y/N L/N. Y/N, this is Officer Esther Wibbsy, I met when I first worked here. He's gonna be watching over you during this whole thing."

"Nice to meet ya, L/N," Esther said, sticking his hand out.

You shook his hand with a nervous smile, unconsciously gripping his hand hard in an attempt of letting out your nervousness.

"Dang, nice grip," He said, pulling his hand back.

"Thanks..."

As you pulled your hand back and wipped your sweat on the pants of your uniform, Joseph started to slowly walk back to the car.

"Your shift ends at 10AM tomorrow, you got this, kid! Remember everything I taught you and you'll be fine."

And as Joseph closed the door of the car and drove off, your only hope of backing out left with him.

"Don't worry, you're not going to be working with the actual dangerous ones."

"I'm not?"

"Walk and talk with me, I'll explain everything on the way."

You let out the biggest sigh of relief before following Esther.

"Roosevelt is divided into two sections. The section you're going to be working in is the normal prisoners. They're still extremely dangerous, but they're a lot more manageable then the others."

"The others?"

"The other section is what give Roosevelt it's reputation. You see, Roosevelt doesn't hold only people, we hold monsters, demons, supernatural beings that we didn't even know existed until we caught them. They're in the other section. The goverment put them here because they don't know what to do with them."

"Woah, so, how do you know I won't run into them?"

"That's the thing, I don't really know. To be honest with you, I think the only reason most of them are still here is by their own choice. Most of them are on death row, and if they really wanted to they can leave, especially Ben."

"Ben?"

"Huh? No I was just rambling..."

As the two got closer to the main gate, something caught Esther’s eyes.

"You see that random brick wall," Esther said, pointing to a wall that stood in the middle of the courtyard, starting from the building all the way until it hit the gate. From the angle you were at, you could just barely see a roof.

"Mhm."

"They're behind that wall. That entire half is their section. Most of the officers who work in that part have been trained specifically to work there and nowhere else."

You felt chills go down your spine as you stared at the wall. Something about it gave off a terrible aura.

"Who's staying in that part..."

"Have you heard of Jeffery Woods?"

"Yeah, Jeff the Killer? Slit mouth?"

"Yeah. That guy, is in that part."

"He's real? I thought he was just some urban legend from when I was a kid. His face was everywhere."

"Nope, he's real, and he's in there. Those pictures aren't what he actually looks like though, he's not that ugly. However, people like him are the reason why you're working in my part, it's a lot safer."

And as those words left his mouth, the two of you stood at the gate entrance. You and Esther walked up to the booth where a lady stood there with a tired, blank expression.

"Who's that?" She asked.

"The intern from Gullermary Academy. Joseph's student."

"Oh... Proceed."

Esther nodded as he opened the metal door and allowed you to walk in first. As you walked in, you were greeted with loud screams and banging from all directions.

"You'll get used to that," Esther said as he walked past you. "Wait in my office, I gotta go get your file from the boss." He then pointed to the door that had Officer Wibbsy written on a metal plate. "You can take any of the snacks, get comfortable because this might take a while."

"OK, thank you," You said, smiling.

Esther merely gave you a soft smile before walking off. Once he was out of view, you opened the door to his office and looked around. On his desk, you saw a picture of a woman smiling. She had freckles with long blonde hair. When you picked up the picture, you saw a date at the bottom.

"September 17, 2017," You read.

Was the woman dead? Or was it the date the photo was taken? Either way, it really wasn't your business. As you sat the picture back down, next to it was a picture of Esther with the woman in the photo next to him. The woman was wearing a white gown while Esther wore a suit, and in his arms was a baby girl wearing a little white dress and next to him was a little boy in a suit as well. Looking up, you saw his diploma in Criminal Justice and next to it was his certificate from the academy.

After taking a look, you plopped down on the chair and stared up at the ceiling. You weren't exactly sure what this internship had in store for you. When Joseph brought it up to you last semester, he kept it very vague. He'd often dismiss your questions and cut you off when you pushed it. You weren't suspicious however, since he was always like this when he tought you during your first year.

You wondered on what kind of prisoners you'll meet. Will you meet someone who was falsely accused and now is paying the price? Maybe you'll meet someone who has been in and out of jail and now is here. Due to your young curiosity, your mind just kept on racing with ideas. But suddenly, your phone began to ring.

Looking down, you saw the words "Mom's calling..." on your phone.

"Hello?" You asked.

"Hi sweetie, how are you?'

"I'm alright. I'm just waiting for my observer to come back with my stuff."

"Oh honey, I'm so proud of you! But, be careful, alright? I don't want anything happening to you."

"I will, mom, I will. You know how good I am."

"I know, I just don't want anything happening to my little girl/boy."

"I know. But, how are you doing mom?"

"I'm doing alright. Me and your father plan on taking a trip to Florida in the spring."

"That's great! Enjoying retirement I see," You said in a teasing tone, earning a giggle from your mother.

"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN?! THIS IS NOT WHAT HE SIGNED!" A voice suddenly yelled, overpowering the screams of the inmates.

"What was that?" Your mother asked, worried.

You stayed silent as you tried to listen to what was going on.

"I'll call you back, mom," You said, before hanging up.

You slowly walked out the room and looked down the narrow hallway, holding onto your gun tightly as you did.

"I'm telling you for the last time, this is what Joseph signed, his signature is right here."

"That is not what he fucking told me. I know damn well he's not stupid enough to put some barley experienced 24 year old in a room with this country's most dangerous criminals. As their observer, I can't allow this!"

You felt your heart stop when you heard those words come out from Esther's mouth. Despite your wonky confidence in your abilities, you were far from naive. You were not ready for this.

"Look, I'm just as unhappy about this as you are, Joseph is fucking stupid for signing this, but legally there's nothing we can do."

"I already told them that they were going to be fine, I won't even be able to observe them! Who's going to even teach them shit?!"

"I don't know, Wibbsy, I don't know. I can call Joseph and ask him what he wants up to do, but for tonight, they're working in the Creeps section, whether you like it or not."

Esther pulled at his hair and he looked at his boss with rage.

"If that kid dies because of this, I'm fucking done with this place, you hear me?"

"I hear."

When Esther walked out of the room, he was greeted by your shocked, frozen figure at the end of the hallway.

"You heard it, didn't you?"

"Y-Yeah..."

"Just... Shit... Take this and just, go straight down that hallway, and they'll take you from there."

"Uh...Ok. I'll see you later," You said nervously as you took your file and walked off.

Esther stared at you as you walked off, feeling a sense of guilt and responsibility consume him like water.

"Please don't die..."

The hallway to the other side was extremely narrow and costraphobic, you could feel the walls press up on you as your walked. One thing about the entire journey that disturbed you wasn't the leaking walls or the filthy floors, but it was the silence. Compared to the other section that was booming with noise, the closer you got to the second half, the quieter it got. You could only hear little whispers from behind the walls, but they were so quiet that you couldn't make out a word. The hallway was dark, dirty, and wet. You assumed that the rain from the storm has leaked through the walls and onto you. You could see roaches and even saw a rat run past you. You wanted to throw up. It was as if this place was abandoned.

When you got to the end of the hall, there was large metal door. There was no card scanner, or even a person standing in a booth.

"Hello? Hello?" You said, knocking on the door.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a short lady started at you with wide eyes.

You could only see the woman's head, but she looked as if she was held hostage for years. Her eyes were wide, as if she had been traumatized, her hair was a mess, her officer cap was barely covering her head, and her face seemed to be bruised.

"...Name..." The woman said, staring into your eyes.

"Y/N L/N. I'm the intern."

And before you could blink, you were grabbed and forced into the horrors that awaited you.

The lobby section was bright and white, similar to a hospital. However, there was no cameras, or an officer sitting behind the glass with a computer.

There was a metal door that stood in front of you, keeping from whatever was on the other side from getting out. Ingraved into the door were the words "Inmate Quaters."

"Let me see your file," The woman said shakily, taking the file from your hands.

"Um, are you OK, ma'am?"

"Me? Oh...I'm alright, I didn't get the worse of it."

"WE NEED SECURITY PERSONAL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, BEN'S CELL 001 IMMEDIATELY, I REPEAT, WE NEED SECURITY PERSONAL IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, BEN'S CELL 001 IMMEDIATELY!" The woman's walkie blasted as she read your file.

Suddenly, a large group of men ran past the two of you, carrying guns and covered in riot gear.

"Um...Ma'am?"

"Hm?" The woman responded, not taking her eyes off your file.

"Who's Ben?"

"If you're not working on his case I can't tell you anything, sorry."

"Oh...Ok."

"Huh...The Woods... Rogers... Otis... Wright... Thomas... This... no, this can't be right. Are they fucking stupid?" The woman asked, looking up at you.

"I don't know, maybe?"

"OK, It's fine, it's fine! Who's on the roster for today... Rogers... Jeffery... Liu... At least you got Liu... Ok, follow me."

The woman walked towards the door that had "Inmate Quaters" written on it, beckoning you to follow her.

"Have you gone through your file?"

"No, I've only been for forty minutes..."

"Here, read it. Read the first three for now, the others you'll be working on at a later date."

Once the lady handed you your file, you started to read through it as the two of you made your way to the cells.

The file was the one of a picture of a man with pale skin, greasy black hair, a slitted mouth, and a crazed smile. He was a picture of his mugshot, eyes bloodshot with a large shit eating grin.

"Jeffery Woods. A man in his early 30s, arrested for multiple accounts of serial Murder, Mutilation, Kidnapping, Torture, Stalking, Vandalism, Arson, Breaking and entering, Parricide, Drug use and rape. He has the reputation of assaulting, mocking, teasing and harassing guards. Jeff is often in solitary confinement, but that doesn't stop him from his usual actions. Has to be kept away from Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw due to them activity starting fights. He is deemed one of the deadliest prisoners in our institution. During your internship, he will be one of the prisoners you'll be interacting to help sharpen your skills. He will by far be one of if not the hardest to interrogate. His case is still under investigation..."

You read the words on the paper with disgust. His smile, so deranged, so sadistic, as if he was talking a school picture, ignoring the lives of those he's ruined or taken.

"Be careful with Jeff, he likes pretty ones," The woman commented as you read.

"Wait, I have a question."

"Ask it."

"Will be looking into their case? Like, will I be doing interviews and looking at evidence?"

"Well, I'm not sure about evidence, their cases are gruesome, and the transcripts of victims' families interviews and the interviews of victims who survived are not pretty... However, I know you will be interviewing some of them, like The Woods and Rogers. Now keep reading, we're most there."

You nodded as you moved Jeff's paper to end and looked at the next one. The image was the one of a man with stitches. He had a blank tired expression in his mugshot, not sad or sadistic, but one of bordem. He had brown hair with bright green eyes, and just like Jeffery, he was pretty pale.

"Liu Woods, also known as Homicidal Liu. A man in early to mid 20s, arrested for Serial murder, stalking, kidnapping, robbery, breaking and entering, assault, and vandalism. Currently serving a a sentence of 50 years but has a chance of parole once he serves 20. Liu is the little brother of Jeffery Woods, and after Jeffery almost murdered him, he developed an alter ego named Sully. Lui is is relatively quiet, observant, possessive and violent. But his violence gets worse when he's Sully. Lui normally doesn't harm guards or prisoners unless provocted, but he has attacked them with no apparent reason on multiple accounts. Liu is one of the prisoners you will be seeing often due to you working mostly in his section of the prison, where most of the pastas are such of Eyeless Jack and Toby. Warning when dealing with Liu, watch your words and actions, DO NOT touch anything of his unless it's a danger to him or others, and don't ask him too much about his past due to it being his biggest trigger in becoming Sully. If you're dealing Sully, be extremely careful, don't make sudden moves and don't anger him. Sully is extremely violent, sadistic but oddly childish. Sully is supposedly a seven year old according to both himself and Liu, so treat him as an extremely dangerous child."

You stared at Liu's image for a few moments after reading the report. Him and Jeff barely looked the related besides in the eye shape and skin color. With mugshots alone, you felt as if your experience with the two brothers will be drastically different.

"Do you have any advice on Liu?" You asked to woman.

"No. He isn't too bad, just really, really quiet. But when he does talk, he's very charming. He's a man of few words."

You nodded in response as you placed Liu's file in the back and looked down at the last one. It was a picture of a man, messy brown hair, the right side of his cheek was missing, revealing his teeth and gums, his eyes held heavy bags as if he hadn't sleep for days, and his neck and hands were covered in bandages. His expression was a pretty tired one, his eyes were droopy as he stared into the camera, some of his hair covering his face as he looked.

"Tobias Erin Rogers. A man in his late 20s arrested for Serial murder, Torture, Vandalism, Arson, Stalking, Patricide, Breaking and Entering, Kidnapping, and suspected of multiple accounts of sexual assault but is yet to be confirmed. Currently sentenced to life in jail with possibility of parole after serving a minimum of 30 years. He suffers a handful of disorders and quite often causes trouble for both staff and other inmates. He struggled with controlling his emotions and his impulsive behavior which often leads to himself, inmates and staff to be harmed. Despite this, you will be interacting with him during your internship due to him being able to get a long with staff for a short period of time if he finds them "hot." Warnings, don't get too attached, don't believe most of the things he says, don't give or take anything from him, and don't let his suffering fool you. He has a history of using his suffering against others and actually led to him escaping when he was first sent here when he was 19, and they didn't capture him again until last year when he turned 27."

"WE still don't know much about Rogers," The woman said as she stopped walking, causing you to bump into her.

"Oh, sorry," You said, backing away to give her some space. "But, why is that?"

"He hasn't told us jack shit. He hasn't told us about his motives or his past, the only things we know is the murders he's rambled about in past interviews. Since you two are pretty close in age, maybe you got a better shot then we do," The woman responded, opening the door that led to the door of the inmates quarters.

When the woman opened the metal door, there was a massive wall of metal and glass. It was a look in to see the inmates, and luckily it was a one way mirror.

"This is where the inmates sleep and spend most of their time. They don't leave this area unless they're sent to solitary confinement."

As you looked through the glass, you saw two men sitting next to each other against the wall, and above them on the second floor were two women talking.

"The two men on the bottom are Timothy Wright and Brian Thomas. You won't be meeting them for a while, but they're on your roster."

"How bad are they?"

"Depends on who you're asking."

"And above them is Jane Elizabeth Arkensaw and Natalie Outlette. Jane is definitely one of the most well behaved inmates we have here, hell, she shouldn't even be here..."

The woman continued to explain the operations and how things functioned in the Prison.

"Inmates eat breakfast at 4AM, and they don't eat again until 11:30 for lunch. After breakfast, they have freetime to do whatever they please, they don't get jobs or specialties like the other inmates. We tend to leave them to their devices under close observation."

You took a look into the inmate quarters and noticed that the man with short black hair was staring directly at you. He held a blank expression as he stared through your soul. You felt your blood run cold as he stared you down with his cold, emotionless eyes. You saw the man next to him look at him with amusement before telling him something, which cause the man to take his eyes off you and look at the other man with rage. You watched as the man yelled at him, but due to the noise canceling effects the room you were in had, you only saw the movements and gestures, no actual words.

"Ma'am, are you sure they can't see us?" You asked as you slowly turned your head away from the scene.

"Positive. Why must you ask?" The woman asked as she walked towards a door that read Officer Sarah Mandel.

"The man with the sideburns was just staring at me," You said, pointing to the man.

"Oh...Wright. he does that from time to time, ignore it."

"Uhhh, ok," You responded as you slowly turned your head away from the man named Wright.

"What time is it?" The woman asked.

"6:30 PM, why?"

"In 15 minutes you'll be interviewing Jeffery Woods," The woman said as she began to walk into a room.

When you were about to follow her, she walked back out with a piece of paper in her hands. She then rubbed her eyed tiredly before handing you the paper with a yawn.

"You ok, ma'am?"

"Yeah...Just tired, I've been working 18 hours and I don't go home till 10. Now, ask Jeff the questions on this paper, don't go off script. If he tries, redirect him, don’t give him a chance to get off topic. Now, he says some pretty perverted and weird things, ignore it and you'll be fine. An officer will be waiting outside the door, and there's a button under the table to notify him to come in. There will also be another officer with you in the room since this is your first time. Got all that?"

"Yep! So uh, where the place I'll be interviewing him?"

"Follow."

You and the woman then walked deeper into the area you in, going past the inmates quarters and going through a door that read 'Interigation Roon, Level 4 and up.'

As the two of you walked, you decided to read some of the questions on the paper. Most of the questions were ones you've seen at the Academy. Stuff like, 'Why did you do what you did?' And 'Did you know your victims?' And so on and so forth. Some of the questions were more detailed though. One in particular asked 'At the scene of one of your crimes, we found a dog next to a door that was locked. When we tried going through the door, it killed two of our best officers. What was behind that door, and who was that dog?'

You remember when you were younger, this image of a dog with a crazed smile was circling around. Some said it was cursed, others said it was some urban legend. But, you picture the image in your head, and you look down at Jeffrey's wanted photo, you couldn't feel like that was connected to him somehow.

"Alright, you'll be in room 899 for all of your interviews, keep that in mind. Now, they'll be here in 5 minutes with Jeffery, you ready?"

"Yeah, I think so," You said as your hands and legs shook with nervousness.

The woman let out a light chuckle before putting her hand on your shoulder with a smile.

"You're gonna be ok, kid. It's you first day, and you're already working with some dangerous people, but it comes with the job. You'll get it no time."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," You said as you took a deep breath and walked into the room.

The room was small with bright lights, two cameras on each side of the room, clean white walls, and a table with a chair on each side in the middle.

You sat down on the chair facing the door and pulled at your uniform to fix any wrinkles or badges that were out of place. You opened the folder and took out Jeffery's paper before placing the folder under your chair.

"It's ok, Y/N. He isn't going to do anything," You said to yourself as you looked down at the papers.

Suddenly, you began to hear footsteps and the sound of chains walking towards you.

And then, the door opened, and you were greeted with a sight that gave you chills.

A man, so tall that could barely fit through the doorway. His hair was long and greasy, covering his face as he looked down lifeless. He was pretty skinny too, that inmate uniform he wore being quite baggy on him. Covering him were chains, his hands were cuff and his ankles were chains together as well. You couldn't see his face, but you could see his eyes. His eyes were bloodshot and wide, staring at you with insanity and rage.

You did your best to keep your stone cold expression, but you couldn't hide the deed of sweat that rolled down your brow as he got closer to you.

The two officers that brought him forced him down of the seat before tying him to the chair tightly.

"That's a bit much, don't you think?" Jeffery said, turning his head to look at the male officer. He had a massive grin on his face as he asked the question in a joking manner.

"No," The male officer said coldly before walking in the corner.

The female officer looked at you with a nod before walking out and closing the door behind her.

Now, in the first semester of your second year at the Academy, it was mostly focused on interagation and the art of the mind. You were told to remain calm and composed at all times, but don't be too serious as well.

Joseph said people are less likely to comfortable and truthful when you make yourself appear as stone cold serious or far too casual. He said to find a balance, make them feel comfortable, maybe joke once or twice, but make them aware that this is serious.

"So, how are you doing, Jeffery?"

Jeff then shot up and slowly turned his head to look at you. His face was neutral, but the nasty scarred smile on his face did give you goosebumps.

"Jeffery... I haven't been called that in a while."

"What are you called then?"

"Jeff."

"Well, Jeff, how are you doing?"

"Shitty. I've been stuck in solitary all fucking month!"

"I'm sorry to hear that."

When you going the ask why, you remembered that the woman told you not to go off script. You took a glance at the officer in the corner before peeping down at the paper.

"So, Jeff, you've been charged with a books worth of crimes, and you've been on death row since December 25, 2014. We've had you in this place for a few years now, but you still haven't told us why you did it."

Jeff stared at you before scoffing and rolling his eyes.

"Same old question! How many times do I have to tell you fucking people. It was fun! Stalked a few people, kidnapped some, fucked the pretty ones, and at the end of the day all of them would be fucking dead," Jeff said with a grin, his eyes slowly starting to move down to your tits.

"Hey! Eyes up here," You demanded, snapping your fingers to get his attention to your face. "I'm here for answers, Jeff, not to be your eye candy."

"Awwww," Jeff moaned, giving you a pout.

"So..." You said, looking through his file. Jeff looked at you boredly as he yawned and leaned back into his chair. In the corner of your eye, you saw the police officer in the corner give Jeff a glare.

"A girl...oh. A girl went missing right before your arrest, her name was Abbie Grace, 21 year old college student. We haven't found her since and evidence is pointing towards you. Does the name ring any bells?"

"Abbie...? Nope! Not at all," Jeff answered, a strange optimistic tone laying in his voice.

After those words left his mouth, you pulled out a picture of Abbie. She had long pink and blue hair with pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her face was covered in freckles and her eyes had a shine to them. She seemed friendly and kind, her bright smile showing off her dimples and crooked teeth.

"Does she look familiar?"

Jeff leaned forward and looked at the photo. He paused for a few moments before realization hit him.

"Oh! Candy Head."

"So you do recognize her?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?"

"Heh, I don't know. I was told to kidnap her, not kill her."

The word told caught your attention immediately, and it seemed to catch the other officer's attention too. Nothing in his file said anything about a boss, it was said that he worked alone, a solo act.

"Told? By who?"

"Eh, I don't feel like telling."

"Jeff."

"What? Suck my dick first and maybe I'd tell you."

"You're not getting anything out of him, rookie," The other officer said, letting out a sigh.

"Well, what'd you do with her while she was with you?"

"Hmmm, well, She was definitely an ugly crier. She would always cry and cry, the bitch even tried to kill me with a butter knife," Jeff answered before laughing at the girl's attempts to escape.

"Hm. Do you remember you remember the last thing you did to her?"

"She did have a pretty face, and a fat ass," Jeff said before his eyes glazed over with lust as he reminisced. An errie smile continued to grow on his face as he contiued his thought. "She was the whole package, and I wasn't going to ler a girl like that go out easy."

You knew what he meant, his file didn't lie one bit, the guy was a fucking sadist.

"After fucking the bitches brains out, I gave the her to Toby."

"...Toby? Is he your partner?"

"Partner? You're funny! As if I'd work with that retard. if you wanna know what happened to her, ask him."

"You are aware that makes you an accomplice?"

"Like I care."

"And you do know that can make your stay here a lot longer, post poning your death sentence to look into your case further."

"If looking at your body means staying here, I'll stay."

"Well, I guess that's where our talk ends for today."

You then stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the officer with Jeff. As you walked off, Jeff stared at your ass, feeling a grin creep onto his face before the officer pulled him out from his seat.

As you walked out, you saw the lady from earlier waiting for you, drinking a red bull as she leaned against the wall.

"How'd it go?"

"Better than I thought... But he's, weird."

"Weird as in perverted? Yeah, we know. What'd he tell?"

"Well, I asked him about Abbie Grace, the 21 year old, and apparently he didn't kill her."

"Really? What did he do?"

"Well... He kidnapped her, raped her, not sure how many times though, and then gave her to a guy named Toby."

"Has to be our Toby," The woman mumbled before taking another sip of her red bull. "Did you ask him anything else?"

"No, just getting those answers were difficult."

"Pity."

RING!

"ALL PERSONNEL, PLEASE REPORT TO THE CAFETERIA FOR DINNER!"

"Welp that's us, let me tell you how this is gonna go," The woman said as she pushed herself off the wall and began to walk.

"The most dangerous and chaotic parts of the day is Lunch, Breakfast, and Dinner. All the pastas normally stick to their groups or by themselves, but during these parts of the day they're all trapped together like sardines. Fights breakout, stealing, and just too much shit goes on. When you're assigned your spot, stay there. If any of them try to get a reaction out of you or try to bother you, don't react. They're not your average criminals, and since they've never seen you before, that's definitely gonna happen today. Stand strong, stay quiet, and observe. Cops like us are merely meang to supervise them, not stop them, that's what Security is for."

"So, is that all I gotta worry about mainly?"

"For right now, yes. And don't leave the cafeteria until lunch is over. Some of them like to sneak out, and let's just say cops who wondered off, weren't found the same way they left. May that be mentally, or physically."

"Oh... So, stay in post, stay quiet, and don't leave."

"Yep, you pick up fast."

"Thank you, Officer...?"

"Mandel. I guess I never told you name, my apologies," Officer Mandel said before taking a another sip of her red bull, "Its been a long day."

‐---------‐-------------------------------------------------------

The moment the two of you walked into the cafeteria, you were met with a loud wave of noise.

"Shit, is it always this loud?" You asked Officer Mandel, who nodded her head in response.

The two of you then walked over to one of the security guards.

"Jesus! You look like awful, Sarah," The guard said with concern.

"I know right. Newbie needs their post."

"Oh, you see that guy over there," The guard said, pointing to a guy with stitches in the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah."

"You're posted in the front of the door behind him."

Looking at the man closer, your eyes widened with realization.

"Is that-"

"Liu Woods? Yeah, good luck," The guard responded before Officer Mandel slapped the back of his head.

"He's not that bad, don't listen to him."

Nodding in response, you took a deep breath as you walked towards the door.

All the inmates were divided into their respective groups. The two men you saw from earlier were sitting at their own table, but a man with part of his cheek removed was sitting with them as well, arguing with the one known as Tim.

"For the hundredth time, it's not my fault the bitch ran away!"

"You sure? Cause last time I checked, she was you last."

"*FUCK YOU* Whatever, Tim. The bitch most likely dead anyway."

You made sure to note that in your head for later. Tobias Erin Rogers, he was listed on your roster, and based on Jeff's info, you'll be meeting him very soon.

When you passed Liu to get to the door, you felt the atmosphere shift. It hit you like a truck, your heart raced as you took at glance at him.

His skin was so pale that he could've been considered sick. Since Jeff was paler than him, you just though it was family trait. But, the stitches on his face and hands made you think otherwise. In his file, it did mention that Jeff tried to kill him. An injury from the incident was mostly likely the cause for his apperance, but you kept your theories to yourself.

Much to you surprise, dinner went by pretty smoothly. But, you couldn't help but grow curious on why so many guards were coming in and out of the cafeteria. You knew better than to let your curiosity take over, but through dinner it became harder to fight.

"Something bothering you?"

Flinching at the voice, you looked down towards Liu, he was looking at you with a tilted head.

"What? Of course not."

"You sure? I ain't telling nobody," Liu persisted as he fully turned his body towards you.

You knew better than to respond, much to Liu's dissapointment.

"You interviewed my brother eariler, right?"

"Who's asking?'' You asked saracastically as you avoided eye contact.

"Me, who else?" Liu answered bluntly, a slight bit of attitude hidden in his tone.

"I don't know."

There was a moment of silence as Liu followed your eyes, realizing that you were looking at the cafeteria doors.

"The doors, huh?" Liu whispered to himself as a grin grew on his face. "You know, past those cafeteria doors is Solitary."

"Ok, why would I care?"

"Why would I care," Liu mocked.

"Jesus, just like his brother..." You thought as you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"No."

"It might benefit you," Liu said in teasing manner.

You didn't say a word, but you did raise an eyebrow with interest.

"Jeff stole shit from my cell before he got sent to solitary. You convince him to give me my shit back, and I tell you what I know about Candy Head."

"Candy Head?" You asked confused before realization hit you. "You have something to do with Abbie Grace's case?"

"Nah uh, uh, uh, get me my stuff back first," Liu answered bluntly, sending you a glare.

Something wasn't adding up. Jeff told you that he gave Abbie to Toby, but how did Liu fit into any of this? Maybe her disappearance isn't as cut and dry as you thought.

Looking around, you let out a sigh.

"I'll think about it."

Liu nodded his head in understanding before turning back around.

"Wait. How'd you know I'm on her case?"

"Stuff. First."

Letting out a groan, you lightly flinched as a loud ring echoed across the room.

"DINNER'S OVER! BACK TO YOUR CELLS!"

As the inmates got rallied up, Officer Mandel walked up next to you.

"So, how'd it go?"

"I don't know what that file said, but Liu is anything but charming. It was like I was dealing with Jeff all over again, just without the pervsion."

"You sure it was Liu?"

"Hm? What you mean?"

"You'll see. Now, the inmates are getting brought back to their cells, but our job isn't over just yet," Mandel said before beckoning you to follow her. "You'll be interviewing Toby in an hour or two, until then, I need you to look over the testimonals of their previous victims who survived."

"Their?"

"You said Jeff didn't kill her, right?"

"Right."

"So, there's the chance that Toby did. Toby didn't work alone, he worked with those two guys we saw earlier. I want you to get familar with their methods, and I want you to understand this very clearly," Mandel said before stopping in her tracks. "These people are dangerous, they will hurt you if given the chance. After today, you're not gonna have another officer in the room with you. I best not find out that you got hurt because you wanted to be fucking stupid."

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Mandel looked at you with a look you couldn't decscribe. "You're young, and you got so many years ahead of you, so listen to my advice. Listen to the files, and don't ever, I mean ever, go into solitary. I saw you looking at it earlier so I'm shutting the idea down now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Wonderful. Now, while you were interviewing Jeff, I decided to hand pick the evidence and testimonials that mostly involved Toby. You're not going to meet Brian and Tim for a while, so don't worry about them."

Nodding your head, you looked at the door labeled "Intern 1."

"Oh, and heads up. The voice recordings are really dark, so, good luck," Mandel whispered to you before patting your back. "I'll get you when Toby's ready."

"Ok."

As Mandel left you alone, you took a deep breath as you opened the door.

The room was bright and clean, a decently sized desk placed in front of you with a computer on it, but it was also covered in various files. In the corner was an old box TV with a VHS and CD player, with a chair placed in front of it.

The room wasn't bad by any means, but it gave you an odd vibe.

Taking a seat at the desk, you decided to look at the different files.

Most of them were detailed descriptions of various crimes scenes related to Toby or the proxies in general, but under all the files was a VHS labeled "Elizabeth Todd's Testimony."

Since you didn't want to spend lord knows how long reading papers, you stood up from your seat and made your way to the TV, placing the VHS into the player before taking a seat infront of the TV. The TV took a while to process the cassete, but once it did, a woman appeared on the screen, the date April 26th, 2008 resting in the top right hand corner.

The girl looked about 19, dark skinned with big curls rounding around her face, fairly skinny but you weren't exactly sure due to her hoodie covering most of her frame, but the thing that you took notice of the most was her eyes. They lacked any sort of life, giving you an uneasy feel as she stared past the camera, implying that someone was in front of her.

"Your testimony will be recorded and kept for evidence, would you like to remain anonymous? If not, please state your name," A light voice said behind the camera.

Pausing for a few moments, the girl looked down to her hands before looking back up to the officer infront of her.

"My name is Elizabeth Todd," The girl started, her voice meek and low as she spoke.

"Would you mind telling us what happened on the day of the incident?"

"...It was my freshman year of college. I didn't know anyone, but I made some friends within the first semester."

Leaning back into your chair, you took notice of Elizabeth's body language. She fidgeted with her hands as she spoke, and always kept her gaze down, rarely looking up at the officers. She appeared nervous. You decided to keep note of that as she continued to speak.

"When spring break came around, me, Lilian, Austin, and Kevin decided to take a camping trip in tye woods near our campus. We took a bunch during the fall so we were pretty familiar with the area. But, when it came to us planning the trip, I always felt like something was going to go wrong..."

Elizabeth's voice cracked as she spoke, causing her to swallow her spit as she shook her hands, trying to keep her composure.

"Nobody listened though, saying I was paranoid even though we went there countless times before. So, we went anyway. Kev and Lilian were setting up a fire while me and Austin were setting up tents. Austin and I were dating at the time, so when Lilian and Kev weren't looking, we wondered off."

Snapping her fingers, Elizabeth continued.

"Austin and I were making out against a tree not too far from our campsite, fucking in the woods was on our spring break bucket list after all. But, before we could do anything I felt my heart drop. You know that feeling when you know something is wrong but you just don't know what?"

"Yes, I've felt it countless times while on patrols," The officer responded, which helped in calming Elizabeth's nerves.

"Well, I got that feeling. We stopped and looked around but nothing was there. But, it was really quiet, no crickets, no owls, just silence..."

Elizabeth paused, pulling at her sleeves as spoke, her eyes starting to water. "It all happened so fast..."

"It's ok, your words will help us in bring your friends justice," The officer said softly, placing a hand on Elizabeth's.

"Next thing I knew I was running. Austi's blood was all over me, but I don't remember what happened. Once I got back to the campsite, Kev and Lilian were roasting marshmallows at the fire..."

----------------------------------------------------------------

"Done fucking, yet?" Lilian teased as she placed her marshmallow on her cracker, turning around with a cheeky grin.

But, that grin quickly fell as her eyes fell on Elizabeth, wearing only a T shirt as blood stained her body.

"What happened...?" Kevin asked, eyes wide.

"He's gone...," Elizabeth responded, looking down at her blood stained hands before looking back up at the two. "We gotta leave. Now."

Without asking anymore questions, Kevin grabbed the keys to the car as Lilian helped Elizabeth stand.

"Are you hurt?" Lilian asked as she walked with Elizabeth.

"He's gone, Lily...He's gone."

"I know, I know."

"Lily, call the cops, tell them what's happening!" Kevin said as he led the group, flashing his flashlight at any sudden noise.

"Once we get to the car," Lily said.

But, Lilian and Elizabeth watched as Kevin's flashlight fell to the floor, being followed with the sound of a loud thump.

Lying infront of them was Kevin's body, a hatchet cutting through the middle of his head as he stared at the two.

"No no no no no no no," Lilian mumbled as she gripped on Elizabeth, backing up slowly as she did.

"BULLSEYE!" A cheerful voice yelled.

Stepping out from the bushes, a man with bright orange goggles appeared in the light, taking the hatchet out of Kevin's skull as he admired his work.

"Big guy aren't *KOO KOO* ya? No *SUCKY* wonder you were so easy to hit," The man stuttered out, his head twitching from side to side as he joked, the loud cracking of his neck echoing throughout the forest.

Frozen in shock, Elizabeth looked towards Lilian, who was just as frozen as she was.

"Damn... You two sure *WOW* are pretty," The man spoke, turning his attention towards the two girls. "I've never *SHOO* had a girlfriend before," The man continued before his gaze darkened, his body language becoming more hostile as he took out his other hatchet. "Mind giving me a chance?~"

Without wasting a moment, Lilian grabbed Elizabeth's hand before running off, causing the man to chase after them.

"We gonna split up," Lilian said.

"Huh?"

"It's better if at least one of us survives. You go left, I go right. We're going to have to get Kev's keys and phone."

"No, no please."

"It's fine, if I don't come back, leave without me. Now go!"

Lilian quickly ran to the right, jumping over a few bushes in the process. Hesitating, Elizabeth stumbled over a few branches as she ran the left, separating the two.

"Jeez, are they *KOO KOO* really that stupid?" Toby mumbled, tapping his chin with his hatchet as he looked both ways. "Tits or thighs...tits or thighs... Tits," Toby declared, looking to the right.

Running through the woods, Elizabeth saw the light from Kevin's flashlight in the distance. Picking up speed, Elizabeth felt her heart drop as Lilian's screams echoed throughout the woods, causing bird to fly up from their nest as it echoed.

"Lily," Elizabeth mumbled, staring in the direction of where Lily ran. "No. Get the keys, get the keys."

Standing over Kevin's body, Elizabeth felt nausea fill up her body as she examined his features. His once bright brown eyes now laid dull, staring at Elizabeth as his mouth laid open. Searching his pockets, Elizabeth felt a chill go down her spine as she caught a feel of his skin, painfully cold.

"I'm sorry Kev, I'm sorry," Elizabeth repeated as she pulled Kevin's keys and phone from his pocket. "I'm so sorry."

Standing up, Elizabeth decided not to take the flashlight, not wanting to risk being seen by the man who was chasing them.

Saying one last goodbye to her friend, Elizabeth ran in the direction of where their car was parked. But, as she ran, she could hear the sound of twigs being snapped.

The sounds came in short but consistent burst. He was following her, mocking her.

"I can see you~" Toby teased, letting out a chuckle as he watched Elizabeth stop for a moment.

Brian would always scold Toby for wasting time on victims, saying that too much time on one could lead to another escaping. But, Toby never listened. Having been a proxy for only a few months, the bosses were starting to grow quite fond of him, much to Tim's dismay.

But, this task was different. This was his first solo mission, and a surprisingly easy one too. Stalk the campers, kill them, dispose of their bodies, and go back to the cabin, easy, right? Well, maybe he should've listened to Brian's advice.

The moment Toby spoke, Elizabeth booked it, running much faster than she normally did.

"Fuck, *LOOKIE* she's fast,"Toby mumbled, chasing after her.

Reaching the car Elizabeth shakily pulled the keys out from her pocket, attempting to open the car door as Toby gained on her.

"Please-please-please, God please!" Elizabeth begged.

As the door opened, Elizabeth quickly jumped in, slamming the key into the holder as the car started up.

But, just before she could slam on the gas, a hatchet was flown as her window, causing glass to shatter on her. Luckily, the hatchet didn't touch her, her dodging just in time for it to land on the seat next to her.

Looking up in horror, Elizabeth watched as Toby appeared from the woods, out of breath as he came into frame. But, in his hand was Lilian, blood dripping from her body as Toby held her by her hair.

"Lilian...," Elizabeth mumbled.

Toby then tilted his head as he lifted Lilian's arm, waving it side to side with a sadistic grin.

She wasn't dead, not yet at least. Her chest was rising and falling slowly as Toby forced her to wave. But, blood was covering her face and neck, coming from the top of her head where Toby banged the handle of his hatchet into.

Staring at the two, Elizabeth came back to reality as quickly as she fazed out of it, slamming on the gas.

As she drove, in the corner of her eye she saw a piece of paper tied to the hatchet. Taking a look, she felt her blood run cold.

"If you survive, don't tell anyone what you saw. You'll see what happens if you :)"

She should tell the police? Lilian was still alive when she left, sure there was blood all over her, but maybe if she called the cops she could make it. Or was it too late?

Looking at Kev's phone, Elizabeth made her choice.

"911, what's your emergency?"

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Fuck, fuck," The officer said as Elizabeth's head slammed into the table, not responding for five minutes before her head fell.

"JOHN, GET A MEDIC!"

The interview stopped there, but the tape continued.

"Elizabeth experienced a seizure during her interview, dying shortly after. But, evidence at the crime scene helped is in determining a series of events," You read as words appeared on the TV. "The bodies of Kevin Howard and Austin Brown were found. Kevin was found with a gash in his head while Austin was found with his head cut clean off. Lilian Smith's body has yet to be found at the time of this recording."

Then, the video finished.

The interview didn't tell you much about Toby's personality, but it did give you a glimce into his cruelty. You decided to use this case as a baseline for the other files you would be looking into, wanting to find common patterns in his crimes and how he picked his victims.

Standing up, you took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the deep dive you were about the take.

After an hour and thirty minutes, you were able to figure out common themes in Toby's crimes, and in two, you were able to get a solid idea on his behavior and personality.

You filled up three pages in your notebook with notes on Toby.

It seems that the proxies in general were very diverse in their victims, some of them being normal civilians while others could be big shot politicians or businesses owners. Toby in particular seemed to mostly target people in their early to late 20s, and most of them were normal civilians or low profiled criminals.

When it came to his behavior, a common theme was that many of Toby's male victims had much more brutal deaths than the women. Women's bodies were often found with a hatchet in the back of the head, or a gash in the side, but their deaths were often simple and quick. The men on the other hand were always found in almost unrecognizable ways. One body was found with his chest completely torn open, his intestines wrapped around his throat and blood smothered all over his face, a truly horrifying site.

The deaths in which his victims would have slowly started to give you ideas. It seems that Toby has some sort of vendetta against men, or more specifically, men with blonde hair. Men with blonde hair were often the ones found in unrecognizable ways. This was something that you would definitely do more digging on and try to get an answer when you're interviewing Toby. Now, you wouldn't say Toby has a soft spot for women, that clearly wasn't the case the more you looked into his behavior, but he did appear to be a lot more merciful and playful when it came to their deaths. Well, maybe not all of them.

You recall that in Toby's file that he would be more complient with people he found hot. Well, in a few cases, there had been women found days or even weeks after incidents. All of which were found dead and in horrible condition, implying that they were kept with him for a while. Maybe that was the case with Lilian.

Now, when it comes to Toby's personality, it's obvious he's mentally unstable. And his mood swings seem to be very self destructive. Often thrown into periods of mental exhaustion where he becomes a blank slate, too mentally out of it to bother with reality.

Despite being in his late 20's, it's been reported that he can be surprisingly teen like when it comes to his interest and some of his behaviors. In past interviews, he's expressed his love for sappy rom coms, and interest often seen in teenagers. It was something that you took interest in, and you decided to figure out if it was just how he is, or if there was a deeper issue at play here.

"Y/N," Mandel said as she opened the door, cutting you out of your train of thought.

"Yes Ma'am?" You responded, looking up from your notes.

"Toby's ready."

Nodding your head, you stood up from your seat and followed Mandel as she led you to the interview room.

"Figure anything out?" Mandel asked.

"A lot, actually. Figured out common patterns in crimes, and some stuff I would like ask hin about."

"Like what?"

"He seems to be much more aggressive men, blonde men to be more specific."

"Hmmm."

"May I ask you something?"

"Ask away," Mandel responded, opening another can of red bull.

"Do you know what happened to Lilian Smith?"

Mandel froze in place, causing you stop with her.

"Ma'am?" You said shakily, looking at Mandel with worry.

"I was on that case... Remember it well..."

"What happen?"

"A week after Elizabeth died, we found her body in a cabin nine miles into the forest... Her head was split in two, going into her neck," Mandel said, her voice shaking as she took another sip of her red bull. "She's the reason why we're trying to charge Toby with sexual assault, the way she was found..."

"Oh... I'm sorry for bringing it up, Ma'am..."

"No, no. It's alright, it's been nearly a decade. If we can officially charge him with it, the judge will be more willing to put him on death row."

Sighing in relief, you watched as Mandel stood up straight and continued to walk.

"I want to remind you, these guys are monsters. Be careful with Toby, he's a lot more unpredictable than Jeff. He might meek today, but tomorrow he could be wild."

"Advice taken."

"Anything else you figure out?"

"He doesn't seem to have a specific preference for victims, only a preference in death styles. I do find his treatment of women kind of interesting though."

"Why you say that?"

"Oftenly, his killings with them tend be more merciful, but, there's multiple times where they've been on the more gruesome side of things. You think I should ask him about it."

"I don't see why not, but don't ask him up front, a lot of the inmates are stubborn and aren't going to give you any favors."

Next thing you knew, you were in the hallway meant for interrogations. You weren't sure why, but the vibe was completely different than last time you were in the area.

"Room 111 is Toby's. Remember what I told you."

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, also. After Toby, you're gonna be on your own for the rest of your shift. I'll check up on your every now and again, but that's about it."

"What? What am I supposed to do?"

"Look into your other inmates cases. You still Tim, Brian, Ben, Jeff, and Liu to look into. If you stay in your office, you'll be fine."

"...Ok."

Nodding your head, Mandel turned the corner, leaving you alone in the silent hallway.

"111...111...there."

Opening the door, the room was no different than the last one you were in. Table in the middle, a chair on each side, bright lights, nothing new. One thing you did notice was that this part of the prison didn't have any cameras, or computers. You thought it was just the hallways, but it didn't make sense on why they wouldn't be present in an interrogation room.

Taking a seat, you pull out your notebook, looking over the various notes you made. You considered asking questions, but then you remembered what Mandel said.

"Ask them the questions on the paper, nothing else."

You couldn't deny the sketchiness of it all. Yes, you understood why they'd be so strict with who they let in and what they'd ask, they are harboring America's most notorious serial killers after all, but some of the questions didn't even matter. Trying to gain trust is one thing, but asking complete bullshit is something completely different.

"Why did you do it? Stubborn my ass, he would never answer that," You mumbled, reading each question on the paper. "What do you like to do? What does that have to do with anything?"

But, you quickly fell silent as the sound of footsteps echoes in the hallways.

CLICK! CRACK!

The sound of various cracks and clicks could be heard. The cracking of bones made your neck ich, and the sounds of the clicks caused you to grind your teeth together. It didn't help that the sound chains could be heard as well, moving side to side with every click and crack.

Taking a deep breath, your back straightened as the door opened.

Stabding in the door was three figures, two police officers holding onto the man in the middle. The man held a bored expression, his head angled downward as he looked around with his eyes. Much to your suprise, he was much shorter than you thought, maybe around 5'5, 5'6 if you wanted to push it. However, you couldn't help but stare at the injury on his left cheek. Pieces of skin were ripped out, showing his gums and teeth to the world. Not to be rude, but you were kind of glad he wore a muzzle like mask.

When his gaze met up to yours, the two of you made eye contact for a few seconds. Within those seconds, you saw his eyes widen, his eyes softening for just a moment before switching back.

"Cute...," He whispered, tilting his head to the side as a grin slowly formed on his face.

"Quiet," One of the guards said as they sat Toby down, bringing his arms up in order to chain them to the table.

"I wasn't *WOWIE* talking to you," Toby snapped back, rolling his eyes.

"Thank you, I got it from here," You said, earning a nod from the officers as one of them left the room, the other one quickly prompting themselves into the corner. "Hello Toby, I'm sure you know why I'm speaking with you today."

"*CLICK* Yeah."

"So, how have you been feeling recently?"

"Terrible!" Toby exclaimed, an irrated look on his face as he mumbled under his breath.

"Why is that?"

"Hmmm, let me *KOO KOO* think. Oh, maybe because I'm fucking here! Would you be happy and shit if you got caught?"

"I'm not exactly sure."

"Liar."

"I'm no liar, Toby. Now, may I be able to ask you a few questions about your cases?"

"Does it matter?"

"...Uh."

You quickly turned your head to the officer in the corner, who nodded their head in response.

"Uh yes! Yes, it does matter."

"...Fine."

"So. Before you were arrested, did you ever know someone named Abbie Grace?"

"Abbie Grace... Colored hair?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, why?"

"We were informed that you were involved with her disappearance."

"...Snitch. *FUCK* He owes me big time," Toby groaned, leaning back into his chair as he looked up at the ceiling.

"Hey, focus. Can you tell me what happened to her?"

"What if I don't wanna?"

"It's not up for negotiation."

"Aw, look at you toughening up."

"He isn't gonna tell me anything, isn't he?" You thought, doing your best to hide your irration. "Well, Toby. If you don't tell us anything, we can't charge you, but, if, or when, we get evidence on you, you're punishment will be more severe."

As you talked, you noticed a shift in Toby's mood.

"And I'm talking death row, Toby. Death. Row."

"I could get death row right now if I felt like it. Do you honestly think these chains can stop me from bashing your head in? Or from taking his gun and shooting you in that pretty head of yours?"

That was the first time he didn't stutter on a single word. No sudden words, no sudden tics, clear cut.

"You're alive because I'm letting you live," Toby said coldly, his eyes lacking any emotion as he stared into your soul. "Isn't that fun!" Toby suddenly cheered, leaning over as he stared at you wide eyes, a strange amount of joy written on his face.

"...I don't think we have the same definition of fun."

"You're so boring..."

"OK. How about this then."

"Hm?"

"Talk about yourself. What do look for when choosing your victims? How do you treat your weapons? Go crazy."

Both Toby and the officer looked at you in suprise.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Uh... What about *FLOWER* me exactly?"

"What did you like to do when you were a kid?"

"...I was in and *CRACK* out of hospitals a lot... Whenever I was out, I would *LOOKIE LOOKIE* go play in the woods with my sister," Toby said. "I hated being home..."

There were two things you took note of. The fact that Toby has a sister, and that he didn't like being home.

"You have a sister?"

"Had."

"Oh... What was she like?"

"She was the best. *BIRDIE* She'd always take care of me, stop kids from picking *CLICK* on me...and always made sure I was ok."

"She seemed nice."

"The nicest," Toby said, his eyes softening as he dazed off. "What else?"

"How do see this...hobby of yours?"

"It's a job, not a hobby."

"Hm. What do you hate most about it?"

"My *CLICK* co-workers."

"Why's that?"

"Tim is always yelling at me about something. *COOKIE* You fucked up on this mission! You never shut up! Mehmehmehemehmeh! And *SHOOT* Brian is just there! Sometimes he gets on me too, and other times he's on Tim! *TICK TOK* Like hello, pick a side!"

To be honest, you were surprised by Toby's words. Back at the Academy, Gibbons would always remind you that every criminal was human, so they would and behave as one. Even though you were considered very skilled, sometimes you forget this simple fact, that even the smartest or most dangerous of criminals, can crack.

The way Toby described them sounded like a worker talking shit about their boss in an office. Now you couldn't help but wonder how Brian and Tim would describe each other.

"That seems annoying."

"Finally someone gets it!" Toby exclaimed. But, after he spoke those words, you watched as he slowky looked at you, a faint blush forming on his face as he sent you a smile. "You know what, I like you."

You felt a chill go down your spine as you stared at him. Yes he called you cute, but the way he was looking at you, you couldn't help but feel concern.

"Um. OK, anyways... Did you have any favorites?"

"Favorites?"

"Yeah. Whenever you did your job, did you have a set preference that you could follow or no?"

"Hmmmm... I hate open spaces. *WOWIE* The noise, the people, the attention... *FUCK* I hate it."

"That explains the locations. Maybe I can figure out a pattern in Toby's preferences that can give me more clues to Abbie's case."

"I've always liked the woods, especially the campers. They're always to unaware. *CHICKEN* I once killed a guy who was half way through fucking *FUCK* his girlfriend, oh you *CAN'T *should've seen her face when I bashed his brains in!" Toby exclaimed before moving his up into the air and quickly slamming them down into the table, looking you dead in the eyes with a manic expression, "Just like that! She had your exact face!"

Least to say, you were dumbfounded. This guy was energetic, loud, and manic, the way he talked about his murders held so much life, so much passion, so much pride. The joy in his voice almost made you forget that you were talking to a criminal, and a manipulative one too. Despite his tone, you couldn't tell if he was being genuine, or at least what everything he was saying was true. If he fell for your trick, maybe he wasn't as aware as Mandel said.

"Oh...um. Is that all?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't wanna talk anymore."

"Wait, we're not done yet, we still have to talk about Abbie."

Toby sent you glare as his body tense up, his once playful energy gone.

"I know you don't care about death row, but, if Jeff gives us more evidence against you, the judge may consider lightening his sentence, while you, will get a more severe one. Maybe not death row, but still worse than Jeff's."

"So you want me to snitch."

"I wouldn't say that. I don't really care who tells me what happened to Abbie, I just wanna know."

Toby stared off to the side, assumingly in thought.

"Getting Candyhead was an order from the boss...She's *OW* the daughter of a powerful business *CRACK* owner that didn't keep his end of the deal with the boss. So, he had Jeff capture her, and then Jeff *POW* gave her to me to keep her *WOW* hostage."

"Wait... She's?" You mumbled. "Toby, is Abbie dead?"

"I don't know who told you she was."

"Wait. If she's alive, then we have to look over everything!"

You turned around the officer in the corner, who was just as surprised as you were.

"Miss, who's the head of the Abbie Grace case?"

"Detective Adrea Banklin."

"Can I meet with her after this?"

"I'll have to see if she's right now."

"Ok. Toby, our interview ends here."

"Ok~"

Standing up from your seat, you quickly made your way out of the room, keeping the door open as another officer ran in.

"Abbie's alive. But, how? She's been missing for over a year, how can she survive that long," You spoke to yourself as you rushed to your office.

As you opened the door to your office, you rushed to your desk, pulling out the Abbie Grace file from your cabinet.

"OK, ok. Calm down, Y/N, calm down. I understand it's your first real case, but stuff like this happens, so calm down," You said softly as you took some deep breaths. "OK, OK. I don't even have all the files on Abbie yet, so what should I do now..."

Then, it hit you.

"Liu."

Looking into the hallways, you, quickly made you way towards the inmates quarters, making sure to hide from other officers.

"Oh my God, what am I doing, what am I doing? Mandel is going to kill me, Gibbons is going to kill me. But, if it's solve the case, it's fine."

The inmate quarters were dark. You could see figures moving around, but since it lights out, the power in the quarters was out.

"How am I even going to get in?"

"Intern."

"AH!"

Turning around, the officer from earlier was behind you, giving you a suspicious look.

"Oh, you scared me."

"What are you doing over here?"

"...Just wanted to look around."

"...mhm. Well, Banklin is here at the moment, but she's preparing to go home. She's willing to speak now, but she won't wait long."

"That's great! Can you take me to her, please?"

The officer merely nodded her head before walking off.

"Liu can wait," You whispered to yourself before following after her.

"She's at the end of the hallway."

"OK, Thank you, officer..."

"Cherry, Officer Cherry."

"Y/N L/N."

"Pleasure. Also, if you're gonna meet with inmates, be more discrete."

"...How did you-"

"Been there, done that. Got caught up in a deal with Ben, was his bitch for months...You learn a thing or two," Officer Cherry said before walking off, leaving you alone.

You quickly made your way to Banklin's office. Opening the door, you saw Banklin placing various files into a bag.

Banklin was a tall woman with long brown hair, she seemed quite put together despite the stressful work environment.

"Detective Banklin?"

"Hm? Oh, you must be the intern."

"Yes, um. I've gotten some important information about the Abbie Grace case."

"From?"

"Toby, ma'am."

"Rogers? That man is a bipolar punk, I don't trust a word that leaves his mouth."

"I cam see why, but he implied that Abbie is still alive."

Banklin froze as she looked up at you, dropping the file in hand.

"Alive?"

"Yes, when he was talking about her, he talked in a present tense, and when I asked if she was actualky dead, Toby said that he never said she was."

"...It does make sense, we never did find her body, " Banklin said, rubbing her chin as she looked at the floor? "But, we've never had a case where one of their victims survived for more than a month."

"I don't know if you've noticed, but Toby has a pattern of keeping women for long periods of time before killing them."

"I've noticed, but in each of those cases, they didn't live past a month on average when we conducted their autopsy."

"So we're just going go let this info go?"

"I'm not saying that, I'm saying it's unreliable. Toby is far from stupid, and he tends to withhold info. He claims that he'll 'never be a snitch'."

"This claim can change this entire case, Miss. Banklin. Even if Toby is lying, what if he isn't? He sounded genuine when he spoke, and if she's alive out there, why should we just wait and see?"

"Listen here. This is your first time working with these Motherfuckers, you don't know anything about them. We asssigned this case to you because it's still on going. If you fuck this up and put this case in jeopardy, you're internship is done. I don't care what Joesph says."

All you could do is stare at Banklin, frozen in place as she closed her bag. You couldn't deny the fact that you often get way over your head, maybe being labeled the best officer in the academy made you a little over confident, but you didn't want to just throw this possibility out of the way. You didn't have a solid conclusion to Toby's true behavior, you still needed a bit more time on that bit, but until then, you were going to trust a few of his words.

"I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Don't bother. Abbie's case is the last case we have regarding Jeffery. Listen to Jeffery's words before Toby's, Jeffery rarely lies to us."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good, now if you excuse me, I have a family to go home to," Banklin said, pushing past you so she opened the door. "Oh, also. Stick to what we assign you. We don't only want you to not fuck anything up, but it's also to protect you. Some of these cases are extremely classified and cannot get released to the public. I hope you understand."

"No, no I do."

"Good, see you in the morning."

Then, she was gone. You didn't even realize that you were holding your breath.

After meeting Banklin, you had come to the conclusion that no one was going to take your theories seriously. But, maybe there was someone who would.

Checking the hallways, you quickly dashed back to the inmate quarters. As you ran, you remembered a lesson that you had with Gibbons.

--------------------------

"Wrong!" Gibbons said for the hundredth time.

"What?! How is that wrong? The suspect obviously lied!" You yelled, pointing down at the paper, "Look, you see the inconsistencies in her statements."

"Y/N, in this field, not everything is simple."

"Yeah, I know that."

"So... Let's look over this paper one last time," Gibbons said as he sat in front of you. "The detective is pushing the suspect. When under stress, people will either do two things. They'll either confess, or make someone hear what they want to hear. With this in mind, what do you think is going on here?"

Looking down at the paper, you did your best to come up with an answer. Before being put under stress, the suspect's story was adding up, but, the moment the detective put them under pressure, their claims fell apart.

"They're telling the detective what they wanna hear?"

"Nope!"

"What?! What do you mean no?"

"Before the suspect was put under pressure, their story was adding up perfectly with the crime, but, the moment they were put under pressure, everything fell apart. This tells you two things. 1, they're not alone. They're most likely being used to take the fall, explaining the perfect line up. And 2, they indirectly confessed that they were innocent."

"You got that from this alone?"

"When you're in this job for as long as I have been, you pick up on things quickly. But, this, situations like this is what makes solving cases so difficult. When you do your internship, I want you to keep this in mind."

"Keep what in mind?"

"If someone is willing to tell you info about a case, take it, especially if it's from a snitch. A snitch is more willing to throw their friends under the bus for than own gain, making them more reliable than a direct source. "

"What if I can't talk to them?"

"Find a way. Roosevelt is Big, many places to hide. Be smart, not crazy."

"So you want me to break the law?"

"If you can make look legal, than yes."

"...You're the worst cop ever."

----------------------------------------------------

"Guess I'm the worse cop ever," You muttered, taking a deep breath as you stood infront of the door separating you from the inmates.

Looking to the right, you noticed a key pad with various numbers and letters.

"Shit... uh, how about, 1 2 3 4 5?"

"WRONG, 6 DIGIT CODE" was written in bold letters.

"Six digits?" You questioned, clenching your eyebrows togethers as you thought. "It can't be something simple, but what if it's so simple that people wouldn't even consider using it?"

Then, it came to you.

"Wait...Roosevelt Federal Prison, Creepypasta Ward? R F P C P W."

CLICK!

"Oh thank god."

Openng the door, you felt the atmosphere shift as you took a step into the room. Due to it being curfew, it was pitch black in the ward, leaving you to rely on the sounds of various voices.

"Shit, why did I do this, why did I do this? If I'm caught in here my internship is done. Can I get arrested for this? Probably. Well, too late now..."

You weren't exactly sure where to look for Liu. You weren't sure if he was on the bottom or top bit, or if he even had a roommate. You knew better than to turn on your flashlight, but, you started to feel the consequences of you actions. Maybe you should get you impulse under control.

Caught up in your thoughts, you failed to notice the figure creeping up behind you. However, you were able to hear the sound of faint breathing.

Whipping your head around, your gun was already in hand, but, the figure grabbed your wrist and covered your mouth, immobilized you.

Adjusting to the dark, you were able to make out a pair of green eyes. You weren't exactly sure if it was Liu, but, the feeling of stitches rubbing against your hand confirmed your suspicions.

"Liu?" You whispered, tightening your grip on your gun.

Liu remained silent as he stared at you.

"What do you want."

It wasn't a question, it was a demand.

"I'm accepting your deal. If I get whatever it is Jeff took from you, you'll tell me what you know about Abbie."

You couldn't see his face, but Liu looked down at you confused. What deal? He did recall slipping in and out of conciouness during lunch, sharing a few words with you before blanking out once more. But, his face quickly turned into annoyance as he imagined Sully interacting with you. The little bastard had to have made a deal with you.

"...Ok," Liu answered blankly, letting go of your wrist.

"What does Jeff have that you want me to get. "

Liu stayed silent for a few moments. What was it that Jeff took this time? One of his guns? Nah, he hates the noise. His bandages? Maybe. So, Liu only shrugged, much to your disappointment.

"If I get you whatever Jeff has, you'll tell me about Abbie, right?"

"...Yeah, yeah, sure."

"Promise?"

"I'm not saying it again," Liu said, sending you a glare.

You quickly shrieked back, nodding your head in understanding before sliding past him.

Feeling around for another key pad, you quickly entered the pass code. Squeezing through the door, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, but you quickly felt that relief be replaced with regret.

"I just made a deal with a fucking inmate," You said, your eyes wide in shock. "What kind of cop am I? Best at the Academy my ass..."

Little did you know, this was only the beginning. The start of your fall from grace.

[honestsycrets]

enfócate | tutor!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | tutor!miguel x student!reader, fake boyfriend!peter x reader

❛ type | explicit

❛ summary | jess is clear: miguel o'hara is a terrible boyfriend. he'll inevitably hurt you-- but peter has other ideas. or, you blow miguel in a library.

❛ tags | spanish tutor!miguel, bratty reader, a kiss with Peter, Miguel's jealousy, bjs, fake boyfriend!peter, slight obsessive qualities, fuck buddies, undefined relationships, fuck boy Miguel.

❛ reqs fulfilled | see here.

❛ sy's notes | the pov on this piece bothers me, it jumps between reader and Miguel. however, i did write two separate pieces for this request (a combined 25 pages vs my usual 11/12). so, i decided to meld them together to create this piece. anywho, if it bothers you, i understand! ❤️ I yoinked a lot of the Spanish from my Spanish learners textbook, hopefully, it's acceptable.

He knew he wanted you from the first day he saw you in the tea cafe. 

Jess and he rarely visited the tea shop. It was settled on the edge of campus. Close to the social sciences and arts, but far from the work he did in the Genetics department. As a Ph.D. student, however, not all the work was done in the lab. Jess liked to see the different types of people that came to this tea cafe, where the chair cushions were fluffy emerald pillows and plants hovered overhead.

“Miguel? What's---” 

You stood apart from the other students with their sloppy, half-cropped, or frumpy appearances, there was a particular care you took to dressing. It was the embroidered bow in your hair that drew his attention. When you left to fetch a refill of chai, he noticed the soft, frilled socks in tiny ankle boots. He just knew you would taste sweet, leering as he watched you at the drink bar. Jess glanced in your direction, the way you adorably bowed your head after the tea artist gave you your drink, and just knew. Jess looked over her shoulder. 

“Not her.”

Jess’s voice was a drawn-out sigh of your name, punctuated by her fist beating the table. Miguel perked at the mention of your name. Oh, so she knew you. She was probably sick of his shit. Good, he was also sick of being used as a vibe check for the lesbians she wanted to pick up.

“Don’t you have enough side pieces?” 

Miguel didn’t respond. 

“She probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Look who she's with.” 

That finally got a response. 

“You don’t know that,” he kept his eyes straight ahead. You caught him staring, wiggling your little fingers in a hello as you sat at a table. "I want her."

You sat with an incredibly frumpy, annoying photography student who once took his picture for the lab website. Could he be… his attention wavered when you pulled out a book: Español para el siglo. His lips quivered into a wildly sardonic grin. Oh no, no no. It was too easy. 

“You’ll ruin her. She’s too innocent.” 

He leaned in. 

“Are you going to help me or not?” 

“Buenas tardes,” 

Two chairs and a thin desk. The small study room was more of a glorified broom closet for its students. You were lucky that there was a large window that looked out over the student union, flowers blooming up its brick siding. Bits of lush dark green ivy poked into the window’s view from the library’s tall wall. As the sun set on campus, rich orange and pink settled over the sunset on that warm Friday afternoon. At least the sight was pretty for how overwhelmingly small the space was.

It wasn’t the space that bothered you. It was your tutor.

He was big-- big big. Not just a little big, but really big. The kind of big that was on bodybuilding competitions. It made his long, blue-grey muscle shirt and grey sweats look tiny, sucked to his well-pumped muscle. The room felt a lot smaller as you looked at him, his long brown hair whipped back over his neck. His eyebrows raised on his dark forehead, arms turning one over another, a bundle of muscle.

“Ah... you're him? The man from the tea shop.” 

He pulled free his sunglasses and set them down. His warm chocolate eyes glanced from the edge of your now too-short skirt to the glint of a dagger necklace that beat between your breasts. He’s staring. Why is he staring-- you finger the dagger between your thumb and index fingers, soothing yourself with the manipulation.

“Miguel.” He warmed, pulling the seat out beside him. His voice was buttery and smooth, almost like rich caramel. The lilt in his voice lightened, inviting you to take a seat by him. You should. You thought. Sit down. “Siéntate." 

You stared.

"I said sit down.” 

That was a bad idea. You paused, slipping the bag down from under your shoulder and onto the beige tile by the door. Miguel watched every slight movement. That’s fine. It’s natural to do that. You tugged the bottom of your skirt and took a seat beside him. Miguel pushed the chair back in, pushing your chest to the edge of the desk space. Oh-- oh boy, he was strong. Of course, he was, he was built like a-- 

“Bueno. Now you're settled. How can I help you?” 

Do that again.

“Me? Oh! I... Jess said you could help me need to pass a test,” you murmured. The four semesters of Spanish seemed relatively easy compared to being stuffed next to this Adonis in this tiny study room. Your legs settled over your skirt, hands working over one another to will down the pulse of your wily excitement. What was wrong with you? “To pass my language requirement.” 

You should have been able to do that alone but-- let’s say you weren’t the most applied to the language in your childhood. A tutor was a great alternative to embarrassment and thousands of dollars in classes. If only he didn’t look like… this. His large hand left the pasty back of your chair.

“Hm,” he paused. “¿Puedes hablar español?” 

“Sí,” you murmured. “My mami was-- well, I should have listened to her.” 

Hm. 

You want to know what Hm means. Your leg tremored on its own accord. He swept a leather bag by his side up and pulled out a thick folder, running across several tabs. Lab notes, diet plans, pruebas. 

“It happens,” he notes, sliding a page free. “Let’s see how much you know, princesa.” 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to know more, to hear the hum of Spanish bouncing off his lips. It was a world apart from your mother’s shrill screams on Saturday mornings to clean an already clean house. It held its own beauty and mystery when he spoke it. You took the page from him, setting it down on the bland tablespace by your phone, lighting up with a notification.

Jess When you meet Miguel, don’t do it.

"¿Princesa?" you asked.

"You dress like one. Don’t worry if you fail,” you plucked out a pink mechanical pencil, complete with little animated characters tightened around the wrapping. You perked at his words, choking a small smile. “I expect you to.” 

Why was he like this? You took another unfortunate look at him, his large forearm plastered over the desk, making the book he had to look like peanuts in comparison. God, he was hot-- you felt comparatively hideous, drooling over a man that was out of your league. Maybe he could be your piece of eye candy this year. Your phone buzzed along the table again. Miguel’s eyes shot to it, a frown pulling at his lips. 

Jess Don’t fuck him. He can’t keep his dick to himself.

He reaches over, flipping your phone down with an overworked smile sundering his expression. It’s almost fake. 

“Are you…” you turned your eyes to the questions on the page. “A student?” 

“Grad student,” Miguel answered. So, older than you then. “I graduated with a BA in Spanish and a BS in Genetics.” 

“Oh! A dual degree?” The man couldn’t be normal. He had to do both. “Did it… take a while?”

“No, it was accelerated.” 

He was unreal. There was no way this man was ordinary. It was physically impossible for the man to be that hot and successful. You scribbled across the page, nipping the back of your pencil at particularly hard questions.

“So you just do this for… a living?” you asked him. 

“I teach and train clients, yes.”

“Train?” 

“Gym,” Miguel set his cheek on his fist.

“I do cardio with Jess. No strength training for me.” Jess-- who suggested Miguel to you. You had some shit to bitch at her about the next time you saw her. Namely, why she didn’t warn you about Miguel. He was a boon for chaos in your life.

“I’d waste your time. I’m all marshmallow,” you pat your soft belly. “All pan dulce and burros.” 

He chuckled. 

“You have a beautiful body.” 

And that was that. You set the pencil down on a page half full of answers, glancing toward his full lips. They were quirked into an arrogant smirk. He knew the effect he had on women. He glanced to the page, then to you, his lips growing into a smile laden with arrogance. 

“Your hips--” he glanced down, “My girls couldn’t pay to get them.” 

He noticed. You supposed that the miniskirt wasn’t the best choice for meeting a new man.

“Do you talk to everyone like this?”

“No. Only the ones that look at me like you did." 

Oh. 

 If it were a game of whom ate whom up first, you had to be honest-- it may have been you. You couldn’t shoot anything back at that, angling your head down at the page guiltily. A sigh fell from his chest. His large hand came to the back of your head, cupping the thick bow on the back of your head. His fingers ran across the silk, teasing it between his fingers.

“Calm down, you’re not the first one to do it. You won't be the last,” he turned your head to look at him, large fingers combing through the strands of your hair. He chased the panic in your wide eyes, doe eyes blown wide. Your heartbeat soared into your chest, choking you there, looking for an outlet from your shame. 

“Breathe for me,” he leaned in, his warm breath tingling your ear. His cologne was clean, like the lapse of the waves on the shore back home where the tropical heat was a second skin. You listened, taking a weary, deep breath in, then out again. Again. 

“Go on.” His knuckles rapped on the sheet. Miguel’s hand fell away. You found yourself longing for it again. 

“He’s gorgeous.” 

“I told you not to fuck him," your superior, Jess said, her feet bouncing off the stairstepper effortlessly.

“I didn't-- I just, he called me beautiful.” 

“He would call anyone beautiful if it meant fucking them. Don’t fall for it.” 

You knew Jess wouldn’t say it unless she were serious. She always knew what you needed help with, where to locate a good solution, and had the right words to calm you down.

“How?” you said, louder than you intended. You were suddenly thankful for the pounding music that beat down on your ears in your school’s gym and the rush of people that came and went. “Jess, you’re a lesbian. You don’t understand-- he’s thick. Like, he’s luchador status big. Big, big.” 

“I’ve dated some thick women.” 

“And he likes me,” you said pointedly, rushing to the topmost step, remembering his words. The way he calmed you down from your embarrassment, seeming without concern for his own body. It was… sweet. “Men usually don’t like me, Jess. I’m too… soft.” 

“Okay, girl, whatever,” you were pretty sure she rolled her eyes. “Unless you’re going to be another one of his fuck toys, just ignore him.”  

“How?”

Her stare trained on the floors lapsed. Thirty and she was still going. “If you don’t want him, just fire him. What’s going to do? Come find you?” 

You stopped for the entirety of five… or ten seconds. Enough to consider her words. Enough to quite literally get plop off the stair stepper and onto the cold floor. Jess exhaled a stale breath, reaching over to jam the STOP button on your machine. Ow.

“Good job.” 

Miguel likes to tutor you. Not because you’re good at Spanish, no, for a girl that grew up with a Spanish mother, your skills are quite poor. But he likes the opportunity to have you in a room all by yourself, late at night. Wednesdays are great days for that. 

Your soft buttercup yellow dress is short today, exposing your thick thighs that take up so much of the chair. He pretends that he’s listening as you go over a list of irregular verbs, your lip pouting in response to the irregular verbs. Some were simple in their familiarity like poder with endings such as pudiste; but the plurals and other irregular verbs, you pouted at. It was cute. 

“Miggy, it’s not funny, ” Oh, nicknames now. Miguel throws a glance at your glossy lips, undoubtedly sticky but oh so soft looking. 

“I never said it was.” 

“You’re smirking.” 

“Then don’t whine,” he said. “It’s cute.” 

“Oh--” As to be expected, you shifted your hands between your legs, drawing your skirt in between your legs. He faltered and took a glance, coasting his eye over its edges and memorizing the way it fell over your skin. You’ll ruin her, he remembers Jess saying. She wasn’t wrong, he sensed the bit of it now, how close you sat-- 

“Take a break, princesa. Vocabulary-- ascendencia.” 

Rather than take a break, you turned and caught the corner of his lips in what was a terrible, cherry-red kiss that would stain his skin. But the connection of your lips, puckered in a pouting kiss on his skin, caught him off guard. 

“Descent,” you took his red pen out of his loose grip, scribbling descent by the word. Fuck. Miguel took a sip of now cold coffee. A smile kept pulling at his cheeks, looking out of the window and catching the slight reflection of your lipstick smeared across his lip and cheek, he bobs his head into a nod.

“Correcto.” 

You’re with Peter the first time you see Miguel with another woman. 

It’s at lunch. Tuesdays and Thursdays are regularly spent running to the College of Arts, waiting for Peter to get out, and a picnic. Today, you forgot to bring lunch, running off to the union hand wrapped around his elbow as he talked to you about a bright new camera lens filter.

“These new pictures are going to come out perfect! Thanks for lending me the money,” he beamed. You loved the way he talked about his art-- stopping to show you his newest pictures of the camera that hung around his neck. Peter was always good with a camera, catching you in all the prettiest angles in your trade of photos for… sponsoring a lens or whatever. Or, at least, bringing down the cost. “Look at this one. Look how pretty you look in that dress, kinda like a pin-up! We should do some’a those next.” 

Feet thumping over the pavement, you failed to sense Miguel's presence until you smelled his peppery cologne carried on the air. There, on a bench, he sat next to a girl. She was pretty, with long dark hair and soft skin. Her hand was on his thigh and his arm around her shoulder, eating the last bit of a flaky empanada-- your eyes burned, the closeness of her head on his shoulder, clearly done and finished, waiting for whatever next plan he had. You don’t want to know what that could be.

“Huh? Oh. hi Miguel!” Peter waved to your dismay. You held onto him a little tighter, wringing circles around his sleeve. Miguel spares you two a glance, his eyebrows pushing together. But he waves, lazy and short. You stifle the hot prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and yank Peter away. “Wha-- I’m coming, I’m coming!"

Days later, Peter has a plan.

“I’ve got it-- the solution to your tea guy problem! You should have told me sooner that it was Miguel.” 

Peter was very excited. Why, you weren’t sure. He liked to feel helpful. That’s why he was a photographer. Photography lets others feel beautiful and seen. He picked at your lunch, his head flopped on your thigh as he worked through his camera. 

“I’ll be your boyfriend!”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” you offered him a grape. He opened his mouth with an adorable ‘ah’ of his his lips. You slipped the grape between his lips. He chewed appreciatively. “I don’t know, Peter. Isn’t it lying?” 

“C’mon, I know Miguel. He’s macho. The kind of guy you have to make jealous. And I can do it! I’m boyfriend material. Aren’t I?”

“Sí. But I don’t think I can make him jealous.” 

It was a sunshiney day, sprawled out at lunch on a cool picnic blanket, tracing the clouds when you heard his voice. Soft, smooth, inviting. Your head spun around, this time with a lean blonde-haired girl-- her legs were long, tummy nice and flat, blue eyes shining like little sapphires set in her pale face. She swooned on his arm. The perfect sorority princess. What if he called her princesa, too?

“--close lab with me--” 

“I can do it myself.” 

Miguel’s eyes caught yours, raising his hand lazily to greet you as he walked down the sidewalk, undoubtedly back to his genetics lab on the other side of campus. Over where brilliant boys and girls and theys were, rushing through accelerated scientific programs while you figured out how to fix broken artifacts. He lived in another impossible world. A realm far away from Peter and you: photography and the maintenance of culture and art.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter's eyes were glossy with concern. “It’s okay. We don’t have to-- did I say something wrong?” 

You shook your head. Peter sat up, his eyes bounced up-- from Miguel over his shoulder to your sudden sad eyes. Peter set his hand on your cheek, the fibers of his soft pink cardigan tickling your jaw. Your eyes tore from Miguel, whose pace became sluggish as if steps along took immense effort. Peter’s nose bumped against yours, clumsy and oh so Peterish-- his hand on the middle of your back, his warm but cracked lips swallowing the gasp that tumbled from your lips. He tasted of sweet fruit, the sloppy lunch you shared, and a silly comfort. 

He watching? Peter murmured against your lips. 

You nearly forgot to return the kiss, captured in the way Miguel stared-- something in his warm brown eyes was almost wounded. Peter shoved you onto the picnic blanket, a soft sorry murmured under his breath as his thin frame fell between your legs. Miguel stomped away, his bumbling blonde rushing to keep up. 

“Oh yeah,” Peter rolled over onto his back, crossing his legs one over another. You watched Miguel stomp past the tall hedges, out of your line of sight. “He’s gonna be mad at you.” 

“Peter!” 

Miguel was still in a bad mood hours later. 

“¡Qué surpresa!” he murmured, offering you your paper blotted with red circles. “You did remarkably shit on this test. Do you focus on anything? Or just Peter?” 

“Perdona me.” Your focus was shot with his consistent presence in your life. Not that he could appreciate that. 

“How long are you going to keep wasting my time?” 

“Are you talking about the Spanish or--”

Miguel set the red pen down, a sharp slam snapping the pen under his force. The fragile plastic snapped into shards of plastic. He flicked it away, paper and pen both, his large hand flexing in and out of a closed fist. You traced the tracks of his veins along his forearm.

“Are you mad that I kissed you?” 

“Stop.”

“Or are you angry that Peter did?” 

 “Don’t touch me.” 

Though he said that, you didn’t listen. You slid out of the chair and in between his spread legs, your hands trailing his handsome jawline. He jerked back when your lips caught his, the legs of his chair hitting the wall. Though he said no, his mouth opened to your kiss, and his palms flushed against your soft cheeks. You pinned him between your body and the wall-- and though you were sure he’d quickly whirl you off if he really wanted to, he didn’t. His tongue pushed into your mouth, owning yours. His hands skimmed your back, trailing lower and lower down your deep red dress until he connected with your ass. 

“You need to stop.” Miguel broke from his kiss. Though he said that, he brought you onto his lap. You felt little in his large arms, his hands guiding your hips over his crotch. “Before I do something you’ll regret.”

You listened to the sounds of the library’s floor. The scrunch of take out into the trash, the sing of a door opening and closing. It was dinner time. Most everyone had gone to get their snacks— and here you were, looking down at Miguel with rapt eyes. 

“Peter is just a friend.” 

“A friend who happens to jam his tongue down your throat,” he turned the word over on his tongue and found offense in it. “Now why do I doubt that?” 

“He only wanted to help.”

“By kissing you?” 

Your fingers trailed his jaw, dipping back down for another kiss if only to say you could. That Miguel couldn’t tell you what to do. A sound of frustration ripped up his throat. You felt him, his dick twitching to life behind those sweatpants. He felt big. You bit your lower lip— a movement that didn’t escape his attentive eyes. 

“By making you as jealous,” You slid off his lap and onto the dirty floor. But as you lifted a hand, cupping his dick through the heavy fabric, he couldn’t bear to stop you. 

His lips pulled in a wicked grin, your soft palm stroking along his length. He hooked his thumbs into his sweats, yanking them down over his knees and onto the floor. His cock kissed his belly, straining with droplets of moisture at the tip. Miguel set his hand on your shoulder and forced you to heel on the floor. His temperament evened out. “You were jealous.” 

“Yes--” you murmured. “Are.. those girls, are they special?” 

“Special? No, none of them are.” 

“I want to be.” 

“That so?” Your soft hands trailed along the dark hair on his calves, up his thighs, settling your nose where his muscular hand tightened around the root. He wrenched his swarthy hand along his length, drawing along his veiny cock shamelessly. "Let's see how much you do, princesa."

“Please.”

“Aquí se habla español.” Miguel teased. Your fingers dipped down, small tickles of your fingertips as his heavy balls. He watched you massage them with half-lidded eyes, his lips pursing in a pleased hum. 

“Por favor.” 

“Abre,” you did, sliding your soft mouth open, a well of saliva on your tongue. Miguel slid himself into your warm mouth, a ruptured groan fizzing in his chest. You didn’t want to be too loud— someone might look into the small window on the door, and see you on your knees between Miguel’s thick legs, sucking his cock down when you should be going over that test you just failed. 

You caught the salty beads at Miguel’s top on your tongue, sliding sloppily around his thick head, and lapping at his slit for more. Your soft hands stroked along his length, clumsy and shy. He hummed in approval, a sound you were more than thankful to elicit. Miguel took a fist full of your hair and drove himself into your mouth, your tongue stroking the underside of his length. 

“Pero mira esto,” Miguel wrenched his head in your hair, grabbing handfuls of it in his palm. “You can focus on something. Sucking my dick.”

Even if you wanted to look up, Miguel drove your head down onto his dick, the dark, trimmed tuft of his pubic hair tickling your nose. He drew his hips back. You nearly pulled off him, if not for his hand assuring that you wouldn’t move off of it. Drool coursed down from your lips, soaking your chin and neck, connecting to his cock as if it were a spiderweb. Your cheeks flushed with blood— you must have looked a mess. 

“Coño," Miguel tutted with his tongue, grasping his phone. Your lips pursed around his tip, eyes flickering up to catch the lens of his phone camera on your ruined face. A picture or a video, you weren’t entirely sure. Only that it sent thumps of pleasure down your core to know he wanted to record it, keep it close. You suckled along his sensitive head, working his moans free. He set his phone aside. 

Miguel stood and dragged your head along with him to pin you between the ledge of the desk space and his wonderful hips. His hands slipped behind your head, keeping you still and steady, driving himself deep into your mouth. Past your tongue, down your throat, it felt like he hit parts of you that you could only dream of. You struggled with his size, choking the urge to swallow him when he forced you to hold him there. As if your throat was just a hole for his pleasure. Your sad attempt to suckle him down was tempered by the rocking of his hips, his needy face fucking. Your eyes screwed shut, bits of color dancing behind your eyes, the easiest way to deal with this was to focus— on the way he tasted, the scent of his fresh body wash, the light judder of his hips as he came close. 

"Hah-- ay, qué rico," his nails scraped the back of your neck, sloppy and undefined thrusts filling your throat. He spurts thick ropes of his cum down your throat and mouth, withdrawing to jerk the last bursts of his cum over your lips. Miguel’s breath fell from his lips in heavy gulps, meeting yours down on your aching knees. Strings of coughed-up cum connected your sodden lips to his cock, globs of his seed slipping between your breasts. You ached. 

“Tate quieta.” 

You don’t know where you’d go, your palms catching yourself on the floor. He snapped another photo, humming appreciatively. Miguel reached into his gym bag, pulling a sweaty shirt free. Your fingers dipped into his warm cum that spattered across your warm chest, drawing it to your lips. He tasted salty, tangy, and just right.

"You look so-- so beautiful, princesa, just perfect," Miguel bent down, wiping the rest of his mess from your chest and face, gently stroking away all evidence of your face fucking before cleaning his cock and tucking himself away into his sweatpants. He chucked the t-shirt back into his bag, glazing his eyes over your hazy, exhausted eyes. He crouched down. 

“Rule one, I never share my women,” he settled his knuckle under your chin, urging you to look him in the eyes. Something told him you wouldn't be as easy as the others, but for some reason, he shrugged the thought aside. “As long as I'm fucking you, you date no one but me. If I find out you are, we're done. Am I clear?”

He was a walking red flag. But for once, in your good girl life, you wanted that. You wanted to fuck in the library-- against the genetics building late at night-- to kiss him during a sunny picnic. More than you wanted a lot of things. His eyes went soft with your answer. 

“Claro que sí, Miggy.”

He loves it when he gets what he wants.

[dduane]

Sorry if you’ve answered this before, but any tips on improving your technobabble?

I originally came at this problem from two different directions. The first one took considerably more time to enable.

(a) Be familiar (or get familiar) with the languages in which most scientific terms are coined: Latin and Greek.

I took Latin in high school, already knowing that I was a science person and that Latin was considered "the language of science". (And medicine, which also turned out to be handy for me later.) I also started studying Greek in college—and, sigh, I'm still studying it.

Once you're starting to get familiar with the languages, practice coining terms as you need them. While it's considered a failure of style in scientific naming to mix Latin and Greek in the same term, I've found it better to be guided by euphony than a slavish obedience to the rules.

Because sometimes a word or term just sounds right. "Temporospatial claudication", for example, was coined by running a Latin physics term head-on into a medical one. "Claudication" was (and still is in some countries) a term for a constriction in a blood vessel. Its origin in the Latin claudo- and clausum roots is responsible for the Emperor Claudius's name, which would once have implied somebody who limps secondary to such a circulatory problem. I simply bent the term's most basic meaning off into a different direction.

...So you see how that goes. Bang the roots together and see what successfully sticks.

The second approach is a little easier. But only a little.

(b) Base your coined terminology on the conventions and rhythms of real technobabble: by which I mean actual, technical scientific language.

The best way to pick this up in sufficient depth is by reading technical papers in your field of interest—lots of them—so you can see how the pros communicate to/with one another. Every field has its own jargon lying around just begging to be stolen... assuming you observe very carefully how it's correctly used. Otherwise you risk outing yourself as nothing but an interested but insufficiently-committed bystander. You must also be super careful not to screw with the interior grammar of such techspeak... as inevitably it'll have one.

For example: when I was tooling up for writing The Wounded Sky, I spent easily three months reading papers in/on hyperdimensional physics. (Not that I wouldn't have done this anyway. It's a fascinating subject, and before I went into nursing I'd been a physics major, so I had a fair amount of the necessary background to understand what I was reading.) Even in the 80s there were a lot of such papers around, and in those distant pre-Internet days I was helped a whole lot by living just across the road from the impressive science library at Cal State Northridge.

During that period I could be found in the periodicals racks once or twice every week, digging through the monthly journals on the hunt for material that would be germane to the plot I was boiling. I found ten times more goodies than I ever could reasonably have used. The toughest part was winnowing it all down to what I actually needed to scatter here and there for atmosphere's sake, or to plant in specific spots to grease the plot's wheels. (My favorite remains the [legit!] paper with the delightful title, "Taub-NUT Space as a Counterexample to Almost Anything.")

Anyway, I must have got something about that whole business right, since one Princeton physics professor whose work I'd cited at the end of the novel asked me if he could use it in teaching his classes. :)

But there's a third element involved; more an attitude that you apply to what you've produced while employing the first one or two approaches.

You have to treat your coined terms as if they're absolutely real... something that any person educated in the science you're working with would know. The voice and tone in which you write using them has to reflect this absolute confidence and commitment to their reality. Because if you don't—at least while you're writing—absolutely believe in them enough to speak confidently about them, no one else will believe in them either.

But then that's a solid general principle anyway. If you don't do something you've created the courtesy of taking it seriously enough to believe in it (or its reality inside the larger reality you're creating), it won't long survive contact with exterior realities like the inside of your reader's mind.

HTH!

ETA: here's that citation page from the end of Wounded Sky. I believe it remains the only Star Trek novel with a cites list at the end. :)

[17020]

AN ARTIST’S LOVE

Hajime Umemiya repays the favor after you doodle on his skin. Inspired by this post by the amazing @stunie ! I fell in love with the concept of doodling and I wanted to share this little piece. Not proofread, sorry! Fluff + some suggestive remarks, nothing more.

As much as HAJIME UMEMIYA likes to have you drawing on him, he loves repaying the favor even more. Whether it is small doodles lightly traced on your skin, or silly drawings on napkins or post-its, you always have a piece of his art to carry with you.

There are times in which your bag is filled with napkins, with little doodles drawn by your boyfriend. He has a knack for drawing, with his specialty mostly being hearts, stars, and most importantly…

Plants. Hajime Umemiya was a romantic at heart, constantly drawing initials, hearts, and little plants wherever he could.

When Umemiya arrives at your shared apartment, he tackles you into whatever comfortable surface—be it the couch, or your bed, and it is now your job to be his canvas.

It’s so intimate, the way in which you and Umemiya reach for the pens and colored markers that sit on your nightstand, slowly removing some pieces of clothing until you both sit in your undergarments, taking turns into turning the other’s body into a work of art.

The doodles vary depending on his day. If he has a bad day, he’ll mostly spend his time tracing hearts around your arms and collarbone, and yours and his initials around your v-line. If he has a great day, your body will be like a greenhouse, your stomach, arms, and back being covered in plants, tomatoes, and flowers.

Hajime is a true artist.

A day comes in which Umemiya comes home, beaming with a smile on his face. You know he had a great day as he pulls you into his embrace, a quick peck placed on your cheek as he pulls out a crumbled napkin from his pocket, handing it to you.

“I had to stop by Pothos to run some errands, and I had time to draw.”

It was a tomato plant with some hearts, just like the ones he proudly grew at Furin’s rooftop.

An idea popped into your head as you took the crumbled napkin from his hand. The next day comes by, and you prepare yourself for your spontaneous adventure. But is it really spontaneous if you planned it around twelve hours in advance? You can’t really call it impulsive, right?

You had to ask Tsubaki for help, as the nearest studio was in Keisei Street. After receiving directions from him, you headed out as soon as you received a text from your boyfriend saying he arrived at Furin.

It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission, right?

It’s not like you had to ask, your body was yours to decorate, but you were unsure of how your boyfriend would react. Umemiya loves you for who you are, so why wouldn’t he love you now?

One painful procedure later, and you were now at home waiting for Umemiya to return. You hear the jingle of keys as your boyfriend opens the door, greeting you with a short, sweet kiss. He looks down at the strange, clear bandage around your arm and—

Wait. Is it..?

“Surprise!” you beamed, “I hope you’re not mad, Haji. I got it because I want our love to bloom, and this is—like—a little reminder.”

Umemiya swears he feels tears forming in his eyes, as his fingers softly trace the edges of the second skin, admiring the plant with two little tomatoes and hearts on your skin.

“It’s real?”

You nod, “very real, baby. I took your napkin to a studio and got it done! One tomato is you and the other is me.”

“You mean we’re two little tomatoes?”

Umemiya is the happiest he’s ever been. He rambles on and on, about how in about two weeks, he’ll now have a permanent drawing to color, and how he can color each tomato differently according to their growing stage. Green, yellow, red—you name it, Umemiya is already preparing his colored markers.

To his surprise, when you and him lay on your bed and he peels off your shirt, his jaw almost falls to the floor as he prepares his pens and markers.

Your back has a little…something. Something like…

His name. Carefully tattooed on your back.

A crimson blush slowly spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, as his mind starts to race. If it were up to him, he’d propose to you right this second, as the mere act of you tattooing his name was like a proposal to be your lifelong partner. He wants to trace each letter—Hajime Umemiya wants to show you how much he loves you.

“You like it, Haji?”

“I love it” he smiled, “you should show off your back more often.”

“I should?” you tease.

“It’s either that or more backshots, I just need to see my name on you more or else I’ll go nuts.”

[devourable]

☾ the monster

sfw | tws : teratophilia, yandere behavior/thoughts, kidnapping?

yandere monster x gn reader! only pronoun for reader used is 'you'

the last of my male yanderes from the poll,, finally <3 tysm to my friend for helping me w this :,) this one goes out to all my monster lovers out there (aka me). his name isn't used in this fic but hes named mykolas!

also!! after this fic i'll be going on a short hiatus! i have to work a lot this week and won't have time/energy to write or draw. but i will still respond to messages and will answer asks when i return (or during the down time i do have if i can). i'll see you all soon! <3

the beast was lonely. he always had been, and figured he always would be.

he learned long ago that he wasn't something that people cared for. every attempt to interact with civilization was met with fear and vitriol, harsh reminders that he wasn't allowed to enjoy the company of others. every strange happening, every fool that went missing, every incident that the townsfolk couldn't explain was always blamed on him.

even the sign outside of his forest said it ; "keep away! the beast of rochshire wood lurks!". no one would dare to step foot in his domain.

so the day he discovered you in his woods, things changed.

what were you doing there, he wondered? you looked so content, so unafraid to be in his forest as you traveled from bush to bush, picking berries and uprooting a few edible plants to tuck them away in the basket you were carrying. did you not see the signs? weren’t you afraid?

despite his questions about your presence there, something drew the beast to you. he didn't feel the urge to hide himself away like he usually would when a human stumbled into his home. you… he felt you were different. you must’ve been unlike the others if you could just come along so casually like this.

the foliage he stood in rustled as he slowly approached you. somehow, you didn’t notice or feel his eyes on you despite how intensely he was observing you and continued with your activities at first. it wasn't until a stick loudly snapped under his step thay your head snapped in his direction.

your eyes widened as you locked them with the glowing white gaze of the hulking beast before you. he was massive! so big that the large antlers atop his head brushed against the branches above him. and the pitch black fur that the... thing was covered in did nothing but make it almost seem like an amorphous mass of muscle. he was unlike anything you'd ever seen before.

you wanted to be scared. you wanted to scream and run away, get out of the forest and return to the safety of your home. the rumors, the signs — they were all true! they weren't a joke like you assumed! but despite your brain screaming at you to get out of there, you just didn't. you were frozen in place, unable to move or even react as the creature slowly leaned down to you and...

sniffed you?

the strange chuffing sound caught you off guard, baffling you out of your frozen state. you blinked a few times and realized — it was definitely sniffing you. and it pulled away right after, taking a step or two back.

the monster was so desperate to not look like a threat to you. you were so lovely, you seemed so sweet, and you smelled nice! he didn't want to scare you away! with a sort of chirping noise, he laid his head to the ground in a bid to show you that he was harmless.

curiosity got the better of you. possibly against your better judgement, you took a step toward the beast. he lifted his head slightly as you slowly pressed your hand to what you could only assume was the creature's forehead. and sure enough, this earned a small trill from him.

you couldn't help the small laugh falling from your lips, which promptly got his massive tail wagging. you weren't scared! you were touching him! and it wasn't to hurt him! his heart was pounding so much that he practically vibrated with excitement. he sat back — unintentionally startling you, but thankfully not driving you away.

you tilted your head, slowly, to the left. the creature did the same, its massive antlers brushing against the branches over its head. you tilted your head to the right, and it followed suit. you raised a hand and sheepishly waved to the creature, and to your surprise, it waved back!

that was all he need to fall completely head over heels for you.

you were oblivious to his adoration for you, but you definitely weren't hating your time with him. he wasn't nearly as bad as the village made him out to be! so you didn't notice the time flying by as the monster herded you deeper into the forest (away from the way out), guiding you to the bushes with the best berries and the biggest patches of edible foliage. he seemed so happy to have company, it was so easy to convince yourself to stay longer.

every time you tried to go into a direction he didn't want you going in, he'd pick you up and set you back down in the way he wanted you to go. and you let him. you didn't have very much of a choice in the matter, but it was okay! so what if the sun was starting to set? he was filling your basket — you wouldn't have to shop for days after this. and every time you made even the slightest suggestion of having to go, he gave you those big, glowing puppy eyes that you just couldn't disappoint.

just a few more minutes and you'd leave, you told yourself. you said it even after your basket and pockets were well beyond their capacity. you said it when the shadows started growing and the sky grew even darker. you said it until the moon was overhead, and the path out of the forest was too obscured for you to find it again...

when you looked at the beast again, he offered you his hand. and again, possibly against your better judgement, you took it.

it was dangerous to be alone in the forest, didn't you know? but there was nothing to worry about. the monster would make sure nothing — no one — took you from the safety of his presence.

you weren't safe anywhere that wasn't by his side.

please reblog to support me!

[rookiesbookies]

please please please write a piece where sex doll soap is dominant please please please

also how does this work? is he sentient? does he have emotions? is he ai?

if you dont want to write a pt II id also take a sex doll price

You got Sex Doll Price! Bingo!

So I saw your question and I outlined how it works more in this post (if you havent seen it) and Im getting ready to write the Konig piece, however I want to make it really special so im going to hype it up a bit more and here’s a Price one because I felt like writing him!

I totally forgot this was in my drafts btw

Price’s story of getting bought goes much like all the other’s. His lady is lonely one night, flips through some infomercials because there’s nothing good on and she figured they’d be entertaining she guessed? It was a better idea than Steinfeld reruns for the fifteenth time, and nothing streaming was updated or good. It was a rare mood.

It came on for the dolls and she fell in love with the way he moved, smiled, his eyes. It was like the tv knew how much she loved the soft eyes of an older man.

She slid off her couch and onto the floor before she punched in the number on the phone to call, saying she wanted Price.

It took time before he was there. She felt different, he has been marketed as a companion robot on the tv. One that could walk, talk, cook, clean. It would be nice having someone to take care of the house while she was at work.

When the mystery box was on her doorstep with the gibberish, she assumed what it was based on the size.

It took a long time of struggling to get it through the door. She tore into it almost immediately. She didnt even get him out of the box before she planted a soft kiss to his lips, just as the commercial said. His eyes fluttered open and she was met with the same soft eyes she first saw.

He was swift. Reconnecting his lips to her and moving out of his box without much effort. She slid back to make room for his large form, when she hit the wall he crawled over her.

“I was told you were a companion,” she said softly eyes, trained on his lips then flicking up to his eyes.

“Companions do lots of different things. There are plenty of different types of companions, love.” His rough hands came up to her face, thumb grazing over her lower lip. “It just so happens to be my directive to be a certain kind of companion.”

Her body felt like it was on air the whole time, like her nerves were cushioned by personal clouds as he worked.

He was swift, putting her on her hands and knees before working off her pants and underwear. His mouth connected with her lower lips and began work. He was delicate but hungry.

Once he got her what he deemed wet enough he used his knee to move her thighs apart, pulling his pants down.

“Breath, love.” He whispered sweetly into her ear after spitting into his hand, rubbing it over his cock, “remember to breath.”

He let it rest in her for a long time. She fell onto her forearms, debating letting her mouth hang open so drool could fall.

He was rhythmic and juicy. Everything she imagined. She was so high up she almost didn’t register she was about to cum until it happened. He didn’t seem to orgasm, surprisingly, but he didn’t seem to care, maybe he did - well she had no clue. He picked her up and wondered her home until he found the bathroom, drawing her bath before washing her gently and putting her to better not long after drying her.

Worth every penny.

[king-craftsman]

To Be Shipshape

The night was still young and in its youth came hope. For many, these hopes were for a good night, dinners, dates, excited outings and illicit dealings. For Dean Winchester, hope came as a new lead. As his Impala drifted into the nearby parking lot of the harbour, his tense jaw and tight grip refused to loosen. This could be the night, the night where his hopes were met too, the night where he found out what happened to the missing men of this country. It had been nearly two months now and eight disappearances, all men, all at night, all at seaside towns. 

Someone joked that maybe it was some siren song that drew these men to the ocean; to let their bodies soak in the sea and taste its salt before they disappeared into the depths. In Dean’s line of work, something like that wasn’t a joke, it was a possibility. The engine of the Impala died at once as Dean stared at his target, the old ship that may have been the witness to it all, or the cause. Some said they saw an odd looking ship around the harbour, usually sailing away to disappear into the mist of the sea. 

There was only one conclusion Dean could come to, ghost ship. The ship looked like it was out of time, a wooden behemoth that creaked as it slowly danced upon the waves. Its sails were rolled up, an anchor of a rusted chain planted into the ocean and ropes that tied the ship to the docks. It was ancient, it was imposing and as Dean stepped closer, getting the hint of sea salt and something else, warm and spicy, he had to admit, it was beautiful. 

He glanced around, only the tides and the creaks of the ship were his companions at the docks. He had everything he needed and years of dealing with the supernatural to help, so he didn’t understand why he was taking so long to walk up the wooden steps, to let them groan underfoot and for him to board the ship. But it did, he stood there just taking it in. He had seen so many odd things on his journey but this ship, this odd slice of time that had thrown itself into the present, was definitely up there. 

Dean ventured forward. He didn’t know if it was perhaps the night, the growing height or the Fates themselves, but the wind soon picked up. Suddenly, the howl of the winds and jangle of chain were newfound companions as Dean climbed up the steps and went aboard deck. To say it was like entering a new world was an understatement, this felt to be a new realm, with its own laws, the first of which came through its sway. Dean had been on ships before, hell unlike Sam he never used to even get sea sick. But he stumbled as he took the first step and realised just how much the ship was swaying. 

For a second it felt as if the world was warping, as if to turn upside down and let the seas fall nowhere. But then the next second the sway came in the other direction and Dean stumbled again, struggling for footing until he clenched onto the bannister of the ship. It took a moment for him to be able to stand and then, it felt as if he would fall any minute, before he heard a voice. 

“Ahoy mate. Can I help ya?” Dean wasn’t sure what surprised him most, the fact he heard a voice or the voice itself. It sounded sultry, deep, a strong accent that carried itself on the winds. Dean looked to see a man step out of the doorway that led below deck and couldn’t believe what he saw, for all intents and purposes, it was a pirate. He was a short lean man dressed to the nines in dark leather. A short head of hair swayed in the wind and the bearded man was rugged, an undershirt exposing a slither of a muscular chest and a pendant. Fingers were adorned in rings that glinted in moonlight. And as he stepped closer, there was a new smell, a different smell, that emanated from the man and almost caused Dean’s eyes to water. “Mate, are ya alright? Ya look like ya don’t even got yer sea legs.” 

It was hard at first for Dean to understand what he meant until he realised he was still holding onto the side of the ship. 

“Uh right uhh...Who are you?” What the hell are you was more like it. Was this some sort of renaissance fair thing? Why was Dean on a swaying ship talking to a pirate? 

The pirate himself chuckled as if he could hear Dean’s thoughts. 

“Captain Killian Jones,” Killian introduced as he gestured out to the ship. It creaked in response. “And this is me ship, now I’ll ask again, who are ya? And what are ya doin’ here?” Dean didn’t think he’d get caught this easily. When he saw nobody was around, he thought maybe this was some enchanted ghost ship, somehow taking people and he’d be in and out. But the Fates laughed through the whistle of the wind. Nothing was ever so simple. 

“Dean.” He didn’t offer his hand to shake but instead stood up straighter as he glanced around at the deck. It wasn’t as if anybody else was coming up. “So...Who are you? What is this? Are you like part of some...I don’t know, some show or something?” 

Killian chuckled. 

Dean furrowed his brows. 

“Show? Aye mate, the best show on earth,” started Killian with a cocky grin that showed off his pearly whites. “A show of the seven seas itself, pirates, treasure, gallivanting and shanties. It’s a sight to see mate.” He gave Dean a wink, causing him to be taken aback. “Why don’t I show ya?” Dean thought about it. Every sense in him told him to get off the ship, that he’d come back with Sam, Cas and figure this out. But he was sure this was the ship and the ship always got away. This was his chance. But he shook his head. It was too risky a chance.

“Thanks but I…” Dean started but his sentence died in a weakening drawl as Killian stepped forward and suddenly the scent was back, stronger than ever. Dean couldn’t quite place it, this foreign concoction that had him blink away watering eyes and stifle a cough with how strong it was. All he could get was a hint of leather and a taste of that same spicy scent that greeted him as he stepped closer to the ship. “I...Yeah sure, I have some questions.” Killian’s smile widened as his eyebrow raised in interest.

“Great mate, come with me! We’ll get this all sorted and get ya shipshape,” And the two of them were off. The winds whistled louder. The Fates laughed harder. All the while as Dean started his descent below deck, a gust of wind shut the door behind him.

As Dean Winchester delved into the depths of the ship, he felt himself being entombed by wood, shadow and those otherworldly scents. The different squeaks of the steps and the general feeling of descent told him that he was going down. 

But every other sense was wholly distracted. All he could see was darkness and all he could smell were those mingling scents that loomed closer with every step down. It wasn’t until Dean’s eyes adjusted that he could see a soft glow emanating from a doorway deeper inside. 

It danced and it was only a moment later Dean realised it appeared to be some sort of torchlight as he smelled the faint scent of flame. One last step and Dean found himself on the same footing as Killian and soon into the hallway of the ship where the air felt twice as heavy. It was almost like he had to push himself to move as Dean stifled a cough and waved his hand in front of his face.

Ugh that smell...Dean scrunched his nose as he tried to focus on breathing through his mouth, but that only made him cough more as he got smoke into his lungs. Killian chuckled as Dean coughed a couple more times.

“Ye aint used to the smell are ya? Don’t worry lad, you’ll get used to it,” commented Killian as he sauntered on forward. Dean could still barely see as he cleared his eyes but other people were down here too, all men and all dressed like pirates. He glanced over towards them, to see if any of them matched the missing people’s description, but it was hard to focus as the ship��s swaying felt far worse below deck. 

At any rate, Dean was far too shocked at how none of these guys seemed to break character. All of them greeted him with thick piratelike accents and lingo, as if they weren’t just playing pirates, as if they were pirates. 

“I don’t plan on staying long,” replied Dean as he narrowed his eyes towards Killian. He couldn’t see what the pirate’s reaction was, but he could somehow tell that the captain was still smiling. After the fifth or sixth pirate greeted him, Dean was thankful when he saw Killian open a door at the end of the hall.

“This is me quarters here,” Killian announced as he swung the door open and a blast of heat and scents jetted out the room. Dean didn’t get seasick, but this was all making him nauseous and he quickly stepped in and let himself fall back into a chair at the end of the desk, a hand kneading his temple as he tried to focus. “So mate...What can I do ya for?” 

The door was closed and suddenly Killian was sitting at the other end of a long desk, adorned with maps and parchment, a dagger in the wood and loose gold coins strewn around. The office itself was slightly cramped, a collection of knick knacks that formed an odd fusion of living and working space. On one side of the quarters was bedding, an end table, and the next was an office, for a meeting of the minds, bookcases, plans on parchment, the scent of gold that had been won and gold to be found. 

But that wasn’t the only scent that lingered in the quarters of Captain Killian Jones. It only took a few moments for Dean to feel sweat start to form on his brow. He pulled at his shirt and tried to hope that he could ignore the stifling heat. That he could handle, but what was more difficult was that smell, as persistent as a predator, it didn’t seem to worm its way towards Dean. He had been following it the entire time, as he looked towards Killian Jones, taking a deep sniff and realising that the smell was twice as intense in here, in the captain’s living quarters. He reminded himself to try and only breathe through his mouth. 

“Okay so uh...Killian is it?” Dean blinked. For a man who had met archangels, the name still sounded ridiculous. Killian cocked an eyebrow.

“It can be whatever you want it to be mate,” the captain winked. Dean blinked again. “But for now, how about we stick with Captain, or if ya must, Captain Jones, seven seas I’ll even let ya have Captain Killian.” Dean rolled his eyes. Seriously? At this point, if it was just a guy playing a pirate then it’d be ten times worse, the idea of someone staying in-character for so long. The smell reminded Dean that there was no way he’d be able to sit in here for too long. 

“Sure...Captain Killian,” said Dean, addressing the name with the same seriousness as a child’s nickname. “Didn’t mean to just wander onto your...ship.” The ship croaked in response. “But I need help with this...investigation I’m doing.” 

For the first time Killian’s cocky demeanour vanished. His smile fell and the focus of his eyes seemed to be more threatening than amusing. 

“An investigation, ya say? What kind of investigation lad?” He reached over for one of the coins on the table, starting to fiddle with it as his other hand drummed against the table. Killian took a cursory glance to the porthole where he saw nothing but the endless dark oceans of sky and sea. 

“Just about a...crime I guess, someone said they saw a ship like yours nearby,” Dean paused to take a breath. Even breathing here felt slower with all the heat and (he took another sniff and frowned), musk. He frowned in disgust. “I’m not a lad by the way.” Killian’s amusement threatened to return. 

“Aye? That so mate? Well ye see anyone who don’t even have their sea legs here is a lad, lad,” replied Killian. He began to spin the coin on the table and slamming it down after a few spins. Spin, slam, spin, slam, spin...and slam. Dean’s eyes were drawn to it in annoyance. “But mate I dunno if I can help ya, I’d have to see what night it was, who was the lookout-” Dean reached into his jacket and fished out a folded piece of paper. He threw it towards Killian’s side of the desk. The ship swayed again and Dean gripped his chair much to Killian’s amusement. He didn’t even try to hide his smirk as he took the paper. 

“That’s the night the...crimes took place,” explained Dean. His jaw tensed as he studied Killian, still playing with that coin (spin, slam, spin, slam…), still clearly not caring about what the ship did or didn’t see. Or rather, what the crew did or didn’t do. “The crimes…” Dean blinked as the ship swayed again, he still wasn’t used to it and it made it even harder to focus as his stomach churned. He felt like his head was churning along with it, his next words lost to nausea. 

“Crimes, crimes, ya keep goin’ on about crimes...Can I ask what exactly happened mate?” questioned Killian. “Help me…”  Spin… “Help you lad.” Still spinning... Dean was growing more and more frustrated with that coin. It was like the longer Killian played with it, the more his eyes wandered over, just to glare at it, just to have to blink every time- SLAM. That happened. Dean inhaled and almost instantly regretted it as he resisted the urge to cough from all the musk around. Even hints of the scent, the salt and leather of it all was too much for him. 

“Men-” started Dean. Spin… 

“I tend to bed em,” interrupted Killian. SLAM. “What about em?” Spin…

“A lot of them have gone missing,” exclaimed Dean. “I just thought you might-” SLAM. God he hated that sound. “Might know anything-” Killian shrugged.

“I might mate, but I doubt it,” replied Killian. “Besides…” Spin… “Why’d I know anything about that sort of thing?”

“You’d know because your ship was nearby and could you stop playing with that damn coin?!” Dean snapped. The heat was unbearable. The smell was worse. The coin was the last straw. Killian stared back at Dean. “Look, either you know something or you don’t, but you should quit wasting my time.” 

“Aye mate? Is something…” Spin… Killian smiled darkly. “Bothering ya?” SLAM. Dean just glared back.

“Yeah actually it is, can you just stop for a second and take this seriously?” said Dean. Spin...Dean swore to God that the coin was growing louder. It was going to drive him crazy.

“Tell me about em,” Killian purred. His voice had grown lower as he continued to play with the coin. He let it spin just a moment longer before- SLAM. It was Dean’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Killian chuckled lowly. “Tell me about ya complaints lad.” Spin… 

“What?” Dean wanted to ask more, namely what kind of joke was this? But he saw Killian’s expression darken and knew that in some odd way the pirate was being serious. “Fine, I’ll tell you. The smell, the musk, the chair is sticky, your coin is annoying and you-” SLAM…

“Are one of the hottest men you’ve seen,” interrupted Killian. “Is that right?” Dean scoffed. 

“Yeah, you wish,” said Dean. Killian smirked. Spin…

“Then why are you hard mate?” Dean looked down and suddenly gasped. His eyes widened as he suddenly felt a presence in his pants, a presence he should’ve felt before. His dick was hard! But not just hard, but almost throbbing, that was until… “Or should I say...Throbbing lad.” SLAM!

Dean’s cock bounced for attention, suddenly throbbing as he panted and looked down at his member. He had never gotten so horny in his life, so hard, so desperate as his cock almost felt like a whole new limb, so solid as it bounced in his jeans. Sooner or later, he was going to get so hard it was going to start a tent against the worn denim.

Spin…

“F-Fuck! What? N-No…” Dean panted as he swallowed, his throat having suddenly felt dry. “This can’t be happening! What are you doing?!”

SLAM!

Dean grunted as his cock hardened even more and started to tent in his jeans. “No! No...Stop it!” Killian chuckled as he...

Spin…

“Oh too late to stop it mate, too late to stop…” SLAM! Dean bit back a groan. “Anything. It just…” Spin… “Feels so good to be…” SLAM! Dean couldn’t stop groaning then. “Controlled.” Spin… “To be…” SLAM! Dean moaned. “Mine lad...Cause that’s what you are...As you start to…” Spin… “Leak out all your thoughts.” Dean’s eyes widened as he felt himself fall back into the chair the more he tried to get up.

“No please dooooh-” SLAM! His cock throbbed again and began to sputter pre-cum, as Dean looked down, half-lidded and flushed.

“You were saying mate?” Killian teased. Spin… “Or were you too busy…” SLAM! Dean groaned out loud. “Leaking out your will out ya cock…” Spin… “And getting to obey Killian...Hook...Ya captain...As you…” SLAM! Dean moaned again. “Leak out for Captain Killian…” Spin… 

“N-No-” Dean grabbed his cock hard with both hands, so hard he knew he wouldn’t even find it in himself to stroke. It wasn’t painful but he put enough pressure on his cock to squeeze out some more pre-cum and slow down any more from flowing. Uncomfortable enough that there was no way he could throb more.

“Oh, a fighter are ya? Well what if I…” SLAM! Dean grunted but kept his grip tighter. But he suddenly began to smell something as he heard leather shift and then plop. “Help with that…'' 

Killian suddenly put both his sweaty feet on the table, having taken his leather boots off behind the desk. 

The musk hit Dean like a heatwave and his eyes stung from the sweaty salty musk. 

But worst of all his grip loosened. 

“No I-” Spin… “I can’t-” SLAM! “Give in…” Spin… “Can’t…” 

“Resist?” Killian finished as Slam! The stain in Dean’s pants grew. His mind felt far away. All he could hear was Killian. “Can’t…” Spin… “Resist obeying ya captain?” SLAM! Dean groaned and to his shock it sounded like a groan of pleasure and approval. “Can’t resist…” Spin… “Staring at me feet?”

SLAM! Dean groaned and this time it was a groan of approval as his body instinctively humped the air and his half lidded eyes focused on Killian’s feet. Everything and anything from the sweaty soles to the musky scent to the wriggling toes, wriggling back...

SLAM! And forth…

Spin… Back…

SLAM! And forth…

Dean couldn’t even hear himself moan at this point because he just did it so easily, it was like breathing, he wouldn’t know until someone pointed it out. And Killian never pointed it out beyond a hand at his leather clad crotch and his signature smirk. 

“Please…” Dean let out a weak moan, a whimper that sounded of pleading rather than resistance. He could barely think, barely understand what was happening. But he was still as strong as ever, and he knew he had to resist. He had to. He wanted to. He didn’t want to. He...Spin...Fuck….Not again anything but...

SLAM!

“Oghhh god-” He moaned and realise now his breaths were becoming pants, taking in more and more musk. The toes were still wriggling, still captivating, still so hot. 

“Now mate…” Spin… “When my foot touches your face, you’re gonna just…” SLAM! Moan. “Sink! Understand mate?” Killian sat on his desk, the foot now beginning to raise and reach closer and closer as Dean moaned and whimpered and tried his bet to back away. But the seat didn’t budge and neither did he.

All he could do was crane his neck back as the foot got closer and closer.

“N-No...Stop…” The foot was half a foot away. “Please...Fuck…” Getting closer now, still wriggling, still spiralling. “Can’t…” The musky foot was inches now. “Can’t…” So close. “Can’t…” So big. “No…” So good. “I-”

The foot pressed against Dean’s face and with it he was under, sinking deeper and deeper in both his mind and the chair as he was forced to breathe in Killian’s musky foot. He even licked his lips, his tongue tasting some of the sole as Killian let the foot slowly descend down, toes brushing against his lips. It just went down and down and down like Dean’s mind, as the foot caressed his chest, his abs and then reached down until it rested right up against Dean’s denim clad throbbing cock. Dean whimpered and shifted slightly, grinding his cock against the sweaty foot as Killian just chuckled at him.

“Well mate, seems ya found me secret. But now it’s time to get ya...Shipshape,” Killian smiled down at Dean as he let his foot nudge gently against Dean’s member. “Everytime I click me fingers, you are going to slowly turn into more and more of a pirate lad.” 

Dean’s brows furrowed, some part within him still fighting, still resisting. 

“You are going to forget this whole thing happened and think we had a normal meeting in me office. But everytime I click me fingers, you are going to obey, going to become more and more of a pirate as part of me crew. You are going to forget your old life, ya old friends, that don’t matter now. What matters is ya crew and most importantly…” 

Killian let his foot play with the wet slick head of Dean’s cock through his jeans. 

“Ya captain.” Dean moaned lightly in agreement and let out a small nod. “Now how about I let ya…” He moved the foot up to Dean’s lips. “Have some fun…” He slipped the toes between Dean’s lips, smiling wider when Dean let out a muffled groan and took the toes in deeper. 

“Before long it’ll be time to…”

Wake. 

Dean shot up with a start, unfortunately taking long breaths as he tasted something salty on his tongue. He looked down at himself, seeing he was fine and then around at the room. The ship was still swaying and Captain Killian Jones was sat on the other end of his desk, feet up as he inspected one of his rings. He looked up, piercing blue eyes meeting Dean’s as he gave a weak smile.

“Good mornin’ mate,” Killian said jokingly as he saw Dean look around confused as the ship swayed again. 

“The hell? What happened?” questioned Dean as his eyes locked onto Killian. For some reason that sickening sensation, that churning of the stomach, seemed slightly duller now. Killian gave no answers, only a smirk. Dean broke his gaze with Killian as he looked around. 

Everything about this place seemed the same, the same disgusting odd scent, the same rickety aged interior, and the obnoxious charming captain at the helm of it all. Even behind a desk, it seemed as if he was in charge of the room, the conversation, perhaps even of Dean. From the way Killian Jones glanced at him, with a raised eyebrow and stupid stunning smile, Dean wagered the man knew it too.

“Nothin’ mate, we were just talking and you fell asleep is all, musta been real tired.” There was almost a mocking tone to Killian’s words, as his words wavered slightly like the surface of the sea. It was an odd way of talking, hell, the accent alone was an odd way of talking. But it did make Dean feel the need to listen. “So what were ya sayin’?” 

What was Dean saying? He sighed and sat up in his seat, hearing his back click as he stretched out. He glanced down to his notebook, looking over some usual notes and some he barely remembered making, before a last stroke of the pen that slips off the page. 

“Well mate?” 

“Yeah I’m getting there,” exclaimed Dean as he looked up annoyedly at Killian. It frustrated him more how all the man could do was smile and take glee at the situation, as if he was incapable of taking anything seriously. Anything that wasn’t playing pirate anyway.

“Alright, alright mate just chop chop,” Snap. Snap. Killian snapped his fingers twice and with each snap, the sound echoed in Dean’s mind and for a moment he looked through Killian. He blinked as he felt something shift in him too. His feet suddenly felt colder as the socks around them were gone. The arches clicked and the toes sprawled forward as Dean’s already sizable feet grew a size larger. His once roomy brown leather boots now suddenly felt tight and cramped on his feet, causing him to groan lightly in pain as he peered down at his feet. But that was something he’d come to soon regret, as he smelled something musky emanating from beneath him. He wasn’t sure if it was somehow his feet, but as they continued to fill the shoes, they began to feel warm and sweaty. “Something the matter, mate?” 

Dean looked back up.

“Uh no so uh…” He began to flick again through the notepad. “You’ve told me...Most everything but, like I was saying, has there been anything...Weird to you? Anything you’ve seen that’s just...Unnatural?” Dean narrows his eyes, watching Killian as they look away, seeming like they were suddenly deep in thought. There was nothing about this man that Dean could take seriously, the sooner he could get out of here, the better. 

“Hmm, well there was something lad,” spoke Killian as he turned to look back at Dean. “Something...Bloody hell, I can’t remember uh…” Dean leaned forward with anticipation. 

“What was it?” Dean questioned. “Look, anything, even the slightest thing can help.” Killian drummed his fingers on the desk, looking upward as he was trying to remember. 

“Seven seas mate, it was on the tip of me tongue, it was…” Snap. Snap. Killian clicked his fingers twice as he tried to remember. Dean shifted in the seat as he suddenly felt his feet become less cramped. The shoes themselves changed, the leather beginning to ride up his ankles as it darkened all over. The shoes themselves turning into dark tall leather boots that were more than sizable enough to contain Dean’s larger musky feet. But the boots themselves stunk of it, making the scent even worse. Dean was about to look down before- “Oh! I remember mate!” Dean quickly looked up at Killian.

“Yeah? What?” Dean quickly asked, almost forgetting about checking out what was going on with his footwear and his feet. He tried his best to ignore that pungent musk filling the air but it was starting to get too much and he could already start to feel slightly light headed. But only slightly, as if he was getting used to the scent. 

“One of me crewmates uh…” Snap. Dean grunted as his ass cheeks began to protrude. They grew rounder and softer, making him feel cushioned in the chair. He shifted in the seat, feeling like it had suddenly grown tighter on him as he swore he was an inch or two taller in the chair now. He glanced back to check why he felt so odd. “Derek I think it was, he saw something real strange mate and he...Mate? Hello?” Snap. Dean instantly looked back to Killian and let out a gasp as they felt their cock grow hard, suddenly throbbing as it made itself known as a bulge formed at Dean’s crotch. 

“Huh? Wha-” Dean bit back a groan, biting his lip as he glanced down concernedly at his cock. Why was he getting so hard now? What the hell was going on with him? He could feel sweat beginning to form at his brow and only realised now that he hadn’t even been taking notes since he started asking Killian questions again. “Sorry, what?” 

“You alright mate? You seem a little, I don’t know…” Snap. Dean gasped as his cock throbbed and he swore it seemed to grow an inch. At the very least this was the biggest boner he’d ever had. “Distracted mate.” 

“Yeah, yeah look I think I gotta go I really-” Dean said as he was about to stand up.

“Oh no stay mate,” Killian purred. Dean shook his head, still halfway in his seat.

“No, I’ve really-” Snap. “Oh!” Dean fell back in the seat, moaning as he looked down to see his cock throb again, only this time he could see that it was starting to leak. His navy blue jeans were beginning to appear stained only...Wait, that wasn’t pre-cum, or at least it wasn’t just pre-cum. 

It was something else, something darker...something shinier… 

“Wha...What...What the fuck?!” Dean glanced down in shock and horror as he went to tug at his jeans, but they wouldn’t budge. His belt was nowhere to be seen and the button had all but disappeared. Killian sat back and watched the show unfold as he saw Dean desperately try to wriggle his way out of the jeans. But they wouldn’t budge, mainly because they weren’t jeans anymore. They were quickly darkening into tight black shiny leather pants, matching his boots and growing tighter. “No, no what the fuck is this?! What’s happening?!” 

Dean’s breaths became pants, as his hand continued to try and pull at the tight leather, to drag it off of himself. But everything around him seemed so distracting. From the musk that permeated from his boots, to the ship that he swore swayed just when he almost got a good grip on the pants, to Captain Killian, sitting there and staring eagerly. But the worst came with his dick, his thick and sensitive length of arousal that he could feel was smeared by pre-cum that had no choice but to flow over and down his cock. 

His breaths became gasps that became pants that became light groans of arousal, much of them snuffed out by this constant resistance that tried to stop his voice. Dean managed to hook a finger into the pants when...Snap.

“What’s wrong mate?” Killian smirked as he saw Dean look up with a shock and then look down at his pants. As if his legs were made of jelly, he could see them wobbling slightly, and feel them grow warm with the heat of change as he started to feel them stretch.

“No, no, no! What the…” Dean gasped and then groaned as he felt the first changes, his thighs growing just slightly wider, causing the leather to groan as it stretched out. “What the bloody hell have you-” 

Dean covered his mouth, partly to stop the groaning but partly because...something sounded different. And he saw that Killian heard it too. The man raised an eyebrow and gave a smile that was of a welcome surprise before Dean moved his hand, trying to grab one of his legs, to see if his strong hands could stop the growth.

But his thighs widened with muscle, as if he was on his legs all day, every day. Dean knew his brother told him about the benefits of cardio, but he thought hunting was all the exercise he needed. Now his legs looked like he went running every other day. 

“What’s wrong mate?” Killian chuckled. “Go ahead lad, speak.”

Snap.

Dean groaned and writhed in his chair as he looked down to see his own leather jacket was now starting to disappear. He knew the only one with a leather long coat was Killian...Captain Killian.

No, fuck! Not a damn captain! Dean thought to himself as he looked down, more preoccupied with what was happening to his shirt. His own shirt began to transform into some thin undershirt of cheap fabric, slowly lightening to a pale, almost ivory colour. 

The sleeves grew slightly wider and were peppered with strings that crossed over. It looked to be one of those shirts some knight would wear on a medieval historical show. But a moment later Dean realised it was one of those undershirts from older times, only this one wasn’t a prop.

This one was real.

The neck hole was slightly larger and the opening of the shirt exposed some of his chest. Dean continued to grunt and groan, refusing to let these moans of pleasure escape easily. But most of all he didn’t dare speak, in fear he’d-

Snap. 

“I said speak!”

“Fuck, I don’t…” Dean grunted as his lips moved all on their own. He tried to urge his hand to cover his mouth but he suddenly didn’t want to disobey Captain Killian. He couldn’t. Snap. “Fuck please man don’t-” Snap “Fuck m-m- mate!” Dean gasped as he could feel more and more of his southern American accent was fading, as more and more of his clothes did. The pen in hand turned into a quill. The notepad became sheets of parchment that fell to the floor. Everything about and around Dean was changing, growing perfect to be on a ship like this, to be…

Oh god, not that, Dean thought.

“Sounding a bit...Different lad?” Snap.

Dean watched as his chest began to itch. He groaned out loud as his pecs grew even larger, becoming two sizable pouches of muscle that jiggled as he writhed and gyrated his hips in the chair. His own cock was practically leaking out a fountain of pre-cum, so much so that some arrived in spurts with each-

Snap. 

“F-Fuck mate, my- me voice...What the hell did you do to me...my fuckin’ voice!” Dean yelled as he looked down. He wanted to get up, but it was like his body was incapable, as if he was trapped in this very room, right where the captain was.

Fuck, he wish he could stop calling Captain Killian, captain.

But he couldn’t.

“Sounds like yer wantin’ to join our crew mate.” Snap. Killian chuckled darkly as he watched Dean struggle, looking down to see chest hair beginning to sprout out across his enlarged pecs. Dark blonde hairs that spread across his upper chest and down beneath his undershirt, tickling him as they grew and radiating more musk. “Come on mate…”

Snap.

“No please I’m not...Not some bloody- Oh fuck gotta...Gotta make this stop mate,” cried Dean as his arms began to balloon out with muscle. They widened, growing a couple inches thicker as all his tattoos along his chest disappeared, as if the chest hair itself rubbed it away. Dean could feel the changes racing up to his neck now, as his previously shaved jawline was beginning to grow hairy again. “I- I just fuckin’ shaved, ya can’t...Fuck me fuckin’ voice, please make it...Make it stop!” Dean’s voice wrestled between his grizzled deep southern voice and a more smooth and seductive British accent. 

Words and knowledge of piracy, life on the sea, the different parts of a ship slowly started to make themselves apparent. They first appeared in Dean’s dialect, and then like ink on parchment, sank further into the material, drying there and making its place more permanent in his mind. Soon, the word starboard wasn’t just something he kept thinking about in his mind, but it was something he knew the meaning of, something his voice itched to use.

“Oh come on lad, just give in…” said Killian.

Snap. 

“No please don’t fuckin’ do anythin’ you bloody-” Snap. Dean throbbed and writhed in the chair, cock throbbing as not much changed about his angelic face besides the beard that made him seem more grizzled. His body was done. It was his mind that was now the plaything.

“Just let go…” continued Killian. 

“I’m not lettin’ go of anything you fuckin’-” Snap. Dean moaned and fell back in the chair, he was losing the battle of resistance. His cock felt so good, everything felt so good.

“Join me crew…” purred Captain Killian.

“No stop before...Me voice, no me fuckin’ voice what the bleedin’ hell have ya-”  Snap. 

“Ohhhhhh-” Dean moaned.

“And obey ya Captain…” declared Captain Killian.

“No...Please...Fuck I ain’t a bloody pirate, you can’t-” Dean saw Killian raise his fingers slowly. “Fuck mate! No! Don’t do it! Don’t make me some fuckin’ pirate! No! Don’t-” Snap.

“Come for ya captain,” commanded Captain Killian. And how could Dean disobey? The last of his mind slipped off that cliff of resistance and basked in a freefall towards lust, debauchery, chaos, a crew, a Captain. 

His cock throbbed and then, the dam fell, with one last pump, he felt his cock shoot out jets of hot seed into his leather pants. He grabbed his cock, trying to stop it, but all it did was make it worse as he felt his leather clad member practically vibrate with how hard and fast it throbbed, almost fucking his hand as he came again, and again, and again. Dean’s eyes rolled into the back of his mind and fittingly saw nothing but darkness back there, as if he was staring directly at his brain to see it just cloaked by the shadows of musk and lust and obedience for Captain Killian. 

Dean Winchester was no longer the Kansas born supernatural hunter. He was now Deacon of Winchester, one of the most handsomest pirates of the seven seas, a traveller and like much of the other crew, occasional lover to the one and only Captain Killian Jones. 

After he came out of his senses, he came back to them as he woke up with a start in the captain’s quarters, his captain’s quarters. 

“Bloody hell mate, what happened?” Dean Winchester, or as he was now known, Deacon of Winchester looked around. Captain Killian just smiled down at him.

“Looks like ya hit yer head mate, ya feelin’ shipshape?” Killian looked down at him with a smile and a look of expectancy. Dean Deacon didn’t know what he was doing in the captain’s quarters but he just smirked towards the captain.

“Right as rain mate,” shot back Deacon much to Captain Killian’s satisfaction. 

“Well then, get back to it mate. That’s an order,” Captain Killian winked at Deacon, causing their smirk to widen. They stood up and gave a nod.

“As ya wish, Captain Killian,” replied Deacon and with that, he left the quarters feeling like a new man. He took in the deep scent of the sweat, musk and rum, the manly scent of a hardworking crew. All before he got back onto the deck of the ship, the sea around them and the salt in the air. Nothing felt better than being here, to be sailing on the open seas with his crew, his rum and his captain. It sure felt good to be a pirate. 

This story was originally posted on my Patreon, but I've decided to release it for FREE. Click here to check out more stories like this on my Patreon and feel free to message me if you want to find out more or if you just enjoyed this story!

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Garden of Adam

Adam remembers when he first woke up in Hell after getting stabbed. He was lost for a very long time and absolutely upset about the situation. No matter how hard he prayed and tried to contact heaven, he couldn't get through.

He was on his own.

It wasn't until he got a glimpse of himself in some window, did he realize how different he looked.

His halo was gone, long black and gold horns in its place. His once light brown hair was now a dark brown, so dark it was almost black. His golden wings were now the colors of black and red, same as his outfit. His skin was more gray, the only thing that was the same were his golden eyes.

Adam had to steal some new clothes, his were torn and covered in blood and dirt.

He also couldn't risk any of these freaks recognizing him, he had heard horror stories of angels that fell into Hell and were left at the demons mercy.

They showed no fucking mercy.

Now he wore loose fitting pants, a shirt and hoodie. Anything to keep him on the down low.

When Adam was walking down the street, he came across a huge dilapidated building that was sandwiched between two thriving stores. A demon was locking the place, looking sad. "So long old friend, we had a good run." He threw the key in Adam's direction and the fallen angel caught it.

What luck.

Adam waited until the guy was gone until he went inside. No wonder he was leaving it behind. It was fucking filthy!

There was only one chair in the room and it looked to be hundreds of years old. There was dirt, dust, and cobwebs everywhere.

He slumped, knowing that the only person who was going to clean it would be him. Adam got to work cleaning the place up.

Once all the filth was gone it didn't look too bad, just needed a coat of paint.

Being in Hell, he knew he'd need to have money to make it. He could use the space to sell something but at first he didn't know what.

It took him until the end of the week to realize he had powers to manipulate and grow plants, it took another two before he figured that was what he could sell.

Who doesn't like flowers?

That's how his garden center, named Eden was born. A garden that would not be destroyed and be all Adams.

That had been two years ago.

Business was booming, apparently flowers brought many demons, especially sinners a lot of joy. It reminded them of earth and when they were alive.

Adam started collecting souls for employees six months into having the place. It started off with just one or two to give him a helping hand.

He really didn't know what to do with souls, but he didn't let that stop him.

Now he owned over fifty souls, with some more locations that he branched out to get more business he was considered an overlord.

Whatever the fuck that meant.

So of course things wouldn't stay the same and Adam couldn't just love his somewhat happy life in Hell with his flowers and other plants. Today was the day everything changed.

Adam was doing up the weekly center piece to draw people in, it was a large bouquet of flowers that were on sale that week.

The door chimed, Adam stepped away and wiped the dirt off his hands onto his apron. "Welcome to Eden, how can I-"

"Adam?"

Adam felt the blood in his veins grow cold. Oh no. He turned to look at the group that entered his store and the one who addressed him was front and center. "Lucifer?"

[theturtlelovers]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎

Pairing: Mikey/GN!Reader Rating: Everyone Contents: Mikey is the first to get a partner, Donnie's a bit weird, but we still love him, Splinter loves soap operas Warnings: None, really? Wordcount: 1,386

Notes: Guess who's back! Back again! ♪(┌・。・)┌ Finally, after one too many years!

Mikey's heart soared when he entered a relationship with his significant other. Overflowing with excitement and joy, he celebrated the transition from friends to partners, ending a period of mutual uncertainty. Even his older brothers and sensei, who had been quietly rooting for the two of you to get together for almost a year, let out sighs of relief. What he once feared was unrequited affection had blossomed into a loving relationship. As they embarked on the honeymoon phase, Mikey believed this blissful period would never end. He felt incredibly fortunate to have his best friend as his partner in crime.

Mikey had always been your friend, adhering to the principle of friendship first before exploring any romantic possibilities. Yet, things were different now—more intimate and personal. With mischievous chuckles (huehuehue), he could do things he couldn't before without raising eyebrows. Mikey could hug you just because, plant kisses on your head, and shower you with compliments, all while grinning from ear to ear as he watched you blush, trying to return the favor. It felt like, in those moments, he fell in love with you all over again simply because he could finally give you the affection you deserved.

At first, Mikey was too absorbed in your newfound relationship to notice, but his brothers were watching him. And weirdly so.

Whenever you came over for movie marathons, Donnie would emerge from his lab intermittently. Coincidentally, he always seemed to be peeking around the corner during your debates or when you and Mikey were theorizing about a new movie's plot. Initially, Mikey wanted to say something because it felt like Donnie was intruding on his time with you. However, he was more relieved that the usually work-obsessed Donnie was taking a break from his screens, even if it meant eavesdropping on your conversations. At least they weren't personal ones.

Raph, on the other hand, was thankfully more discreet. He didn't pop up out of nowhere like some sort of gopher to intrude on Mikey's private moments with you. Instead, Raph observed from a distance when you two were in more public settings. He tried to be subtle, stealing glances at how Mikey leaned in close to hear you at the dinner table, the way he smirked in a failed attempt to hide his giggles at an inside joke, or how he gently nudged you aside with a soft "pardon me, angel-cakes," holding your hip as he reached for something and then carefully moving you back. At times, a fleeting flash of envy would appear in Raph's eyes as he watched, but it would quickly vanish, replaced by an unreadable expression.

Leo was a different story altogether. He was certainly more direct than his other two brothers. He would openly ask Mikey questions, sometimes subtly weaving them into their conversations. Other times, he would just blurt them out, regardless of how out of pocket they might seem. It took Mikey quite a while to catch on to Leo's unusual questioning.

Eventually, Mikey sought out Splinter, thoroughly weirded out by his older brothers' antics—if he could even call them that. "Hey, Sensei?" The aging rat turned his gaze from watching his soap opera. "What’s the matter, my son?"

Mikey’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Have you by chance noticed the way the others have been acting?"

"Ah, you must be referring to the way they have been observing you." Splinter caressed his beard, which had recently been braided, courtesy of you spending time with him earlier that day. Mikey smiled fondly seeing it as he sat down on the couch next to him.

"So I haven’t been making it up then!"

"Indeed. It makes sense why they would want to watch you, though."

Huh? "What- why? But I’m not doing anything crazy that’s out of my usual."

Splinter’s dark eyes gazed at his youngest, who was so intuitive yet naive. "Perhaps you are not. However, you are the first amongst your brothers to be experiencing a romantic relationship."

That made Mikey pause. He understood the implication, yet at the same time, he couldn't quite grasp why it mattered. So he just went, "Huh, I guess that makes sense," and did a slow nod. Why did he go to his dad again? He should have known that Splinter's wise words often left him more confused than before.

Mikey eventually grasped the meaning behind his father's words during one of your weekend movie nights at your place. With no work in the morning, you both were engrossed in a marathon of the John Wick series. For once, Mikey's attention was more on the movie than on you, and it was as if a gentle tap on his brain brought him to a realization.

He was setting the example for his brothers. Although it took him a while to come to this conclusion, he was relieved that it didn't require any dramatic arguments or life-threatening situations. It was just John Wick fighting for the memory of his late wife that sparked the insight. Oh. OH!

The staring and the questions all made sense now. None of his older brothers had lovers of their own, and there wasn’t a reference for mutants in romantic relationships, so they were looking to him as some form of guidance. And Splinter, bless his soul, while a great father and the closest male role model a rat can be, had no personal experience in romance either, not unless you count his addiction to soap operas. It was nerve-wracking because that also meant he couldn’t turn to them for help. As the youngest turtle in his close-knit family, Mikey was used to having his older brothers handle the tough stuff for him. This arrangement never troubled him; it allowed him more freedom to pursue his interests. However, with a newfound understanding of the sacrifices his brothers made on his behalf, Mikey felt a mix of offense and gratitude. Initially, he questioned if their actions stemmed from a belief in his incompetence. Upon further reflection, though, he realized their motives were pure—they simply wanted to keep him safe and shield him from the stress that came from such burdens.

Previously, Mikey's focus was more lighthearted, free from the heavier burdens his brothers carried—Leo tasked with ensuring everyone's safety, Donnie charged with maintaining their tech and home in peak condition, and Raph driven to fortify their resilience against any challenge. Yet, Mikey found himself considering not just his own well-being but yours as well.

His brothers weren't the ones committed to you; he was. Mikey was your turtle, your other half. It was his responsibility to fight for you, care for you, and love you until it felt like his heart would bleed for you. Later that night, as he held you close to his plastron and basked in your scent, he made vows that only he could hear.

As time passed, Mikey became more open, allowing his brothers to see how he navigated his relationship or talking about you whenever you were brought up. Not that Mikey minded—he loved any opportunity to talk about you.

“Yeah, we’ve been going stargazing together.” “But you don’t care about stars, Mikey?”

“True, but I do now because (Y/n) likes them.”

He showed that it’s okay to be vulnerable. It's alright not to always have everything under control because it's the two of you against any problem. He showed it's fine to engage in activities like painting nails or sharing quirky moments together. Supporting them through everyday tasks like doing laundry, preparing dinner, or simply listening to them vent about the latest work gossip is valuable. And it's okay to let them know you love them and that he's just a call away if they ever need help.

His brothers seemed to appreciate that—and you, since you received equal effort from him—because one by one they each eventually found someone to call their own. And gradually, each one found someone special in their lives. Surprisingly, they all turned to him for advice, one after the other. It was an unfamiliar role for Mikey, being the giver rather than the receiver of guidance. He wondered, was this how Splinter and Leo felt most of the time?

Huh… being the leading example sure was satisfying.

Tagging: @whygz, @brightlotusmoon, @mrghostings Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!

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[lemoniiiiiii]

chances

(frat!kyle spencer x fem!reader)

content: fluff, angst (if you squint?), mentioned sexual harassment (by frat members)

a/n: not proofread, short drabble inspired by this post, wrote it really fast so sorry if it's not the best (it's my first time writing for kyle too so)! also, the last line is sick I'm aware I'M SORRY RYAN MURPHY POSSESSED ME

when your boyfriend kyle told you that he was joining the fraternity kappa lambda gamma you seriously thought he was joking. kyle was caring, hard-working, kind. yeah, he liked to joke around, but he was nothing like those greek alphabet degenerates you associated frats with. you told him this earnestly. it wasn't just a passing judgment, it was a genuine concern for him. trapped in a house with all those guys? kyle could handle himself well growing up in the 9th ward, but these frat guys were different to the types of people he was used to dealing with. you didn't want to see him to get hurt, or worse... start becoming like them.

when you expressed your feelings to him, kyle (of course politely) brushed your concerns off.

"give em' a chance..." he told you, caressing your head in his lap. "they're not all as bad as ya think. and even some of em' that are a bit.. y'know.. they're good people at heart, i can tell. they just hafta be put in the right direction."

"and is that why you're gonna try and become president?"

"yep! kappa lambda gamma has the potential to be one of the best chapters tulane has ever seen. that, and it gets ya some pretty awesome connections"

he was right.. a lot of past frat members had become pretty successful and kyle could use that to his advantage.

"okay fair... just, be safe okay? stick to what you know- who you are"

"oh i f'sure will" he flashed a knowing smile, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on your lips. your hands found their way into his golden curls, drawing him closer for a deeper connection.

as if on cue, the moment kyle pulled away, his phone began to ring. he glanced at the screen, and an apologetic smile appeared on his lips as he answered the call, shifting slightly as if bracing for what was coming.

"whoa, whoa, whoa, ma, slow down. what's going on? i’m at a—" he hesitated, casting a quick glance your way, "—at a friend’s, i told ya already... yeah, i’ll be home soon... what? right now?" there was a brief pause before he sighed. "okay, ma. love you too."

as kyle lowered the phone, you let out a soft sigh, already knowing what was coming. "gotta go, huh?"

"yeah, i’m sorry, baby..." he took your hand gently, lifting it to his lips in one smooth motion, the warmth of his breath tickling your skin before his lips brushed your knuckles. his fingers slid between yours, intertwining, and then he leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "i’ll see you on campus, okay?"

you nodded, trying to mask the disappointment tugging at your chest. "mhm… see you," you murmured, sitting up and watching him leave.

--

"oh my god" your jaw dropped as kyle stepped out of the bathroom. you had gone to surprise him after move-in day, wanting to see how he was adjusting to the frat life. and oh boy did he adjust. he had the blue embroidered polo with the collar obnoxiously flipped up, a white long sleeve underneath it, rolled up to the elbows, even-

"your hair!" you gasped. kyle's once luscious curls you loved to run your hands through had now become flat and side-swept. you silently cursed yourself for ever teaching him how to use a flat iron so he could help you do your hair.

"well y'know you could say hi-" he chuckled, enjoying your reaction to his new look. "like it?"

to be honest, you didn't hate it, as much as you wanted to. kyle had a way of making anything look good. it was more what it represented that made your stomach churn.

"you certainly look the part" you said, forcing a half-smile. "all you need now is a backwards cap and a blood alcohol content of .12%"

he laughed, walking over and nudging your arm. "c'mon babe. open mind, remember?"

you sighed. "right... open mind" you glanced over him again, noticing how the fabric of his clothes hugged his frame in a way that accentuated his muscles. "okay.. you do look really hot i'm just wor-"

"gonna stop ya right there." he gently placed a hand on your arm, giving you a warm smile. "thank you. i'm happy ya came."

"i'm... happy i'm here- well, with you anyway" you couldn’t help but let the corners of your mouth lift. kyle just had that effect on you.

"..seriously though," you started again, looking into his eyes with a hint of concern.

kyle’s expression softened as he wrapped an arm around your lower back. "i promise it's stoppin' here, alright? all this… it's just surface level. you still have me." he gestured vaguely to his clothes and hair. "this is still the same me."

you held his gaze, trying to believe him, though a small part of you still worried that he may fall in too deep.

"please baby, give em' a chance..."

"what kind of chance?" you looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "because i was violated like three different ways just walking up to your room." the words came out half-joking, but there was an edge to your tone that kyle didn’t miss.

he straightened up, eyes narrowing, and his brow furrowed with a fierce protectiveness. "what happened?"

"i'm kidding... kinda. nothing crazy just a few wandering eyes" you waved it off, though the memory of being looked up and down like that made your skin crawl for a second.

"i'll talk to em' about it. if they say or do anything else, tell me. i'll cut their fuckin' balls off" his voice was serious, and though he didn't mean it literally, you knew he would go to war for the people he cared about.

"as long as i get to watch," you giggled, leaning into him a little more.

"...any chance you’ll stop using that flat iron, though?" you asked, giving his new hairstyle a gentle tease, still missing the curls that used to frame his face.

"when i'm dead." he chuckled with a cocky grin.

"we’ll see about that."

--

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @heartz4peter