#i started loving him much more after the lodge scenes

[luveline]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k

cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping. 

I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered. 

You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely. 

When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap. 

You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in. 

It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them. 

Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him. 

You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you. 

Your phone rings a moment later. 

You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too. 

“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“How come?” You sit up with a little start. 

“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.” 

“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man. 

“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?” 

“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.” 

“And you want me to fix that?” 

“You always fix my neck.” 

“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that. 

“I have bad posture.” 

“You have perfect posture.” 

“No, it’s quite bad.”

He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.” 

He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.” 

“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.” 

“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.” 

“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.” 

“What did I lose?” 

You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.  

“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.” 

“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.” 

“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.” 

“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says. 

“Or I could make us both some?” 

“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”

You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected. 

Cruel overpass, you think. 

Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek. 

The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later. 

You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back. 

Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—

A sudden chill. 

The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard. 

Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain. 

You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor. 

All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth. 

A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.

Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath. 

He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something. 

Your phone rings on the counter. 

“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.

You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins. 

—

There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. 

Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.

What will he make of my handiwork?

You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.

The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.” 

“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.” 

“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot. 

“Honey?” a voice asks. 

“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays. 

Honey, are you in here?

—

The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder. 

Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off. 

Jack squirms closer, no room left between them. 

“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says. 

Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead. 

“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.” 

Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.” 

“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.” 

Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile. 

“I look tired,” he says. 

“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it. 

“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.” 

Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile. 

“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.” 

Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.” 

“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?” 

Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.” 

“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.” 

Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea. 

Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you. 

“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?” 

“You said I can give her a hug.” 

“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.” 

“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says. 

Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.” 

Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs. 

“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”

“Yeah.” 

Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room. 

You’re sleeping. 

Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing. 

He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze. 

The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown. 

Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic. 

“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly. 

Jack stays sitting. 

He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt. 

You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown. 

“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says. 

“When can she come home?” 

“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you. 

“Why is she sleeping all day?” 

Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.” 

“Should we go?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.” 

“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.

“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees. 

If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give. 

You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap. 

Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly. 

“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession. 

“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat. 

He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face. 

You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms. 

“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open. 

Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again. 

Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk. 

The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”

“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.” 

A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?” 

“Excuse me?” 

Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need. 

He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively. 

Aaron lets out a breath. 

“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.” 

“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.

His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some. 

Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone. 

“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.” 

“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.” 

“I know.” 

“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.” 

“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.” 

A tear rolls down your cheek. 

“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.” 

“Is that what you want? You want a hug?” 

“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder. 

You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 

Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down. 

Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” 

He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying. 

“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently. 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears. 

“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic. 

“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow. 

He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow. 

Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand. 

—

Is she breathing? Can she talk? 

I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from. 

Where’s the worst of the blood? 

It’s everywhere. 

Abdominal? Chest? 

I can’t tell. I can’t tell. 

Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?

Yes. Yes, but– 

Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions. 

Honey, can you hear me? 

Your name said clearly. 

“Hey, can you hear me?” 

“Yes,” you murmur. 

“If you need a minute, that’s okay.” 

You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass. 

Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface. 

“Maybe we should start from the beginning.” 

There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.

“Okay.” 

Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you. 

You close your eyes. 

“What stuck out?” 

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.” 

“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?” 

“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.” 

Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.” 

“I never got that far.”

“What did you do?” 

“I filled the kettle.” 

“What kettle?” 

You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.” 

“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?” 

“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.” 

“When?” 

“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”

“And then–”

“Then he grabbed me.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says softly. 

You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.” 

“Like he was quick on his feet?” 

“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.” 

“How big did he feel?” 

Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big. 

Where’s the worst of the blood?

“He said he was going to hide,” you remember. 

“He said that? He said ‘hide’?

“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.” 

“When was this?” 

It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers. 

“That was at the end,” you say. 

“After he stabbed you?” 

You wince. “Yes. After.” 

“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.” 

“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.” 

“When Hotch found you?” 

“No, before.”

“Before?” she asks. 

You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move. 

You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?

“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room. 

“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.” 

You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose. 

“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly. 

“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 

So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much. 

You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room. 

You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron. 

You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees. 

That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay. 

He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear. 

“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread. 

You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again. 

“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Please don’t let me get hurt again.” 

Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.” 

You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep. 

Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one.  He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you. 

He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water. 

“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.” 

You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” you say. 

“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

“Please.” 

“Did Emily tell you about my interview?” 

He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?” 

“I don’t want to say it again.” 

“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.” 

You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?” 

“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.” 

You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread. 

“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern. 

“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.” 

“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?” 

You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop. 

Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again. 

It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative. 

“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says. 

“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world. 

“…This is my fault.” 

“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep. 

Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.” 

“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly. 

“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.

“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.” 

You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless. 

“I love you,” he says again. 

“I know.” 

“No, I love you.” 

He’s saying sorry.

“I love you,” you mumble back. 

“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?” 

Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.” 

“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.” 

You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound. 

His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both. 

You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours. 

“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says. 

You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek. 

—

Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises. 

“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters. 

“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.” 

The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved. 

I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone. 

It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them. 

I won’t. 

He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will. 

Foyet didn’t need much more than that. 

He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either. 

Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid. 

One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.

Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner. 

Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries. 

He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you

Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this. 

He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again. 

He rubs his brow. 

“You okay?” Emily asks. 

When he looks up, JJ is gone. 

“I’m fine.” 

“It���s okay if you’re not.” 

He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says. 

It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day. 

He can’t fail you, too. 

“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks. 

Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?” 

“Being in love.” 

He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.” 

She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.” 

Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks. 

He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger. 

It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says. 

He shakes his head. 

She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.” 

But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety. 

“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.” 

Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.” 

He turns his attention back to the board without another word. 

—

When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest. 

Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him. 

He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks. 

He goes home satisfied.

“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in. 

“Honey?” Aaron calls. 

“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits. 

Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!” 

“Hi, junior g-man, what are you doing?” 

“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.” 

“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.”

You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.

“You got him?” you ask. 

He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.” 

“How did you find him?” 

He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.” 

You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?” 

“Brave.” 

“I’m a coward.” 

He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” 

All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby. 

Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless. 

“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.” 

“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.” 

“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.” 

“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue. 

“But it keeps happening.” 

His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead. 

“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?” 

“I remember,” he says, practically mouths. 

“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–” 

You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands. 

“I didn’t want this for you,” he says. 

“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?” 

He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.” 

You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.” 

He looks at you in silence. 

“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.” 

He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?” 

Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag. 

You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed. 

But not everything. 

“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head. 

He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly. 

You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered. 

He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“Was Jack good?” 

“Jack’s always good.” 

“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?” 

“She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.” 

“I can get those.” 

“I know, I knew you would.” 

He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek. 

“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely. 

“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip. 

“My present?” 

He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.” 

In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him. 

He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.” 

He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch. 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️

[frogchiro]

The Hunter and the two Bunnies

Day 3!! Yay! I won't lie I was super excited for this one so I hope you guys like it too!

Warnings: heavy nsfw, fem!Reader and Graves are bunny hybrids, Simon is a hunter, mentions of murder and gore but not much at all, Simon is a possessive and obsessive man, it's implied that both reader and Graves didn't have much choice to stay with him at first but it's really up to you ^^

Autumn was near, it was clear as day. The leaves started turning all sorts of oranges, reds, yellows and started to fall, the warm summer days turned to cool and bleak weather with a chilling howling wind and cold rain hammering against the wooden roof of Simon's cabin. Despite the bleak and unforgiving weather outside, the inside of the wooden house is a picture of warmth, coziness and pleasure.

With the roaring fire in the hearth, the leftover uneaten honey-glazed ham, fresh bread and fruits and of course the two warm, glistening bodies of two lovely bunnies currently warming Simon's weary muscles.

"Ahh...Yeah, that's right...Use your hips more-Perfect, fuuuck...", came the low, growly voice from the scarred, blond man sitting in his well-loved, warm armchair as your pretty, soft body continued to move above him, your whines and moans like music to his ears, your soft tits pressed tightly to his sweaty, hairy chest and all Ghost could do was let out a groan as he felt his swollen tip hit your cervix, potent cum leaking out and he could feel his balls tighten at the delicious fantasy of his sperm being right in your most intimate place, doing its job and breeding you with his baby.

"S-Simon please-it-it's too deep! Ah-! Si I feel it in my belly..." came your whined response as you gently ran your hand over your lower belly and pressed, both you and Simon moaning out at the intense, pleasurable feeling of him right there inside you and you couldn't help but tighten up, your cunt squeezing the large male like a vice making him let out a loud moan and thrust his hips up more roughly.

The wonderful, pleasurable scene was lazily watched by Philip, another bunny Ghost managed to catch last winter. The blonde male hybrid was laying on his back on one of the numerous fluffy furs in front of the fireplace, surrounded by more pelts and pillows arranged in the form of a nest. Philip continued to watch the display with a warm smile, happy that his mates both can feel all the pleasure in the world in this little cabin in the woods in the middle of nowhere, the three of you can calmly and safely mate and be happy, not to mention the possibility of making your small family a little bigger by next spring. The blonde couldn't help but wince at your high pitched whine as Simon let out a matching loud growl, he probably was right up against your cervix bruising it and making you sore for the next few days, and Philip had to lift hips own hips slightly, the achy feeling settling in his hips and he let out a quiet whine as he felt Ghost's cum leaking out of his hole and wetting his thighs but he quickly used his fingers and stuffed the precious semen back inside him, nothing could go to waste...

After finally cumming deep inside you with a triumphant roar, his balls squeezing and twitching along with his dick lodged deep inside, he held you close to his hot, bulky body and caressed your back and ass, gently palming at your floppy (H/c) ears and fluffy tail before finally gently lifting you up and putting you down into the prepared nest, Philip gratefully accepting you back into his strong arms and immediately getting to nuzzling and licking at your tear-stained cheeks, muttering something sweet making you giggle tiredly and nuzzle into the scruffy stubble on your mate's cheek.

Simon sat back in his armchair with a cigar and a glass of whiskey and just watched you in a comfortable silence, not even bothering to put any clothes back on, only throwing a warm, silvery wolf pelt over his shoulders. He was a proud man, not afraid to show his body to his loved ones, especially you and Phil, it made him happy to be able to shed everything and just let loose, not to mention that sooner than later both of you will recover and want to go for another round and any layer of clothing would be torn off anyway with your small, but sharp claws.

It's a good thing that Simon won't have to go out anywhere for the next two or so days; your supplies and pantry is overflowing with herbs, spices, dried meats, forest fruit and vegetables and anything else you'd ever want. It's also a good thing that he dealt with that pesky little visitor who wandered a little too close for him liking to his territory. Was the guy a lost tourist who wanted to just get back on the trail? Or was he a filthy little thief who wanted to steal his bunnies away...? Well it's doesn't matter now anyway, at least not to Ghost.

The guy's head was basically shot off with the military grade rifle Simon still kept from his military days and now he was probably dragged away by the neighbouring pack of wolves deeper into the dark forest. It will be just Simon's dirty little secret, after all it's no use for him trouble your pretty little bunny heads with something like that.

The rain continues to patter against the cabin, and everything fell silent once again.

[smutoperator]

Aphrodite

Jeon Heejin x Male Reader

Tags: breeding, clitorial fingering, (lots of) cowgirl, creampie, failed facefuck, goddess, mating press, mythology, poolside, public nudity

Word count: 4000.

Santorini, Greece

Heejin's life had changed a lot in such a short span. Winning the lawsuit against her former company, reuniting with her old boss, joining a new group, and getting a new solo were all things that happened to her in under a year. But no memory became more ingrained in her mind than her trip to the beautiful Greek islands of Santorini. Heejin's time in the archipelago could only be described as something straight out of a movie, starting with the moment many people asked her and Jinsoul if they were a married couple due to their matching white dresses that caught people's attention. Filming season's greetings on a Greek island for a group named after a Greek goddess was the perfect fit after all.

Today was one of the couple of free days her group had to enjoy Santorini before heading back to Korea. Haseul, Jinsoul, Kim Lip, and Choerry all went out right in the morning, but Heejin opted to stay in the lodge the group was staying in at the top of one of the many hills of Santorini, intending to enjoy the pool and relax. She took her orange bikini, sprayed plenty of sunscreen on her body, and laid in one of the chairs poolside. Her body was glowing under Helios. Heejin had never felt so confident before, just deciding to spend the whole day playing in the pool by herself, enjoying being all alone in such a cozy and spacious lodge with no eyes watching her.

Heejin loved the total privacy she was getting that day, so much so that she started getting bolder and thinking of things she had never done before. As the hours passed by, she stripped herself naked, laid on the chair, and just closed her eyes, taking a nice and relaxing nap with her bare body on display. However, she would suddenly be disrupted by some noise.

A shocked Heejin rushed to cover her intimate parts as she saw a man repairing one of those classic white-painted houses in Santorini, panicking at the thought of him seeing her naked. She wasn't told anyone was going to make any repairs close to the lodge, unleashing her anger at the man. "What are you doing? Stop looking at me, you pervert. What are you waiting for? Get out!" Heejin furiously yelled. The man climbed down the stairs as Heejin covered her boobs with her left hand. "Are you crazy?" he asked. Indeed, you had the right to be shocked much more than her, as you definitely weren't expecting your little job you got in Santorini during tourist season to deliver such an awkward experience as seeing a naked East Asian woman yelling at you.

Heejin looked petrified, biting her nails as her cheeks turned red out of embarrassment. But her naughtier side was also looking at the sights of a muscular guy whose body seemed sculpted by the gods Greece is so famous for. She thought of the whole scene all night, struggling to sleep. Heejin's thoughts were divided between feeling embarrassed for being seen naked or for her rude behavior towards the guy. As a new day arrived, Heejin surprisingly decided to stay at the lodge once again. "I'll catch you later," she told her groupmates, as her day started like the previous one, but this time with a major headache that permeated her thoughts.

Heejin walked towards the same place where the man was doing his repairs yesterday. Her heart raced the moment she saw you shirtless working on that beautiful house. She set her sights on you, watching how you perform your craft before heading in your direction. "Excuse me?" Heejin asked. "I'm here to say I'm sorry for yesterday; I wasn't aware someone would be in the vicinity," she continued. You didn't say a word to her, pretending not to understand what she said. A saddened Heejin just ended up walking back to her lodge as you kept working.

But she wasn't going to give up easily. Heejin decided she was going to bring the guy she had a crush on by any means. A goddess always gets what she wants, especially the goddess of love and beauty. Heejin found the company the repair guy worked for and sent them a request for work in the lodge. You felt dreaded when you got the call, as you knew it was the address from the woman who had rudely yelled at you, but you had to do the job. But as you arrived at the door and rang the bell, no one was there to answer.

For a moment, you almost thought it was a prank. What if that mad East Asian woman just wanted to take revenge on you for ignoring her? Knowing your company had a 30-minute tolerance policy, Heejin made you wait for nearly the whole time while she was inside the lodge, enjoying you desperately ringing the doorbell multiple times to no avail. She got herself ready, and just as time was about to expire, a familiar silhouette appeared at the door, wearing just a black robe as if she had just gotten out of the shower.

Heejin slowly dropped the robe as she walked through the door, unveling the same body that caused the whole scuffle a day ago. Up close, she was even more stark, beautiful from top to bottom, a goddess-esque beauty. As she walked the final steps towards the door, you could only contemplate every single part of her: her perfect hair, her lustful eyes, her small nose, her cute lips, her sexy collarbones, her perky little tits, her flat belly, her bare legs, and, most importantly, her tight trimmed pussy. Your eyes just moved involuntarly at this point, going toe to head, head to toe, multiple times as if they were looking at the incarnation of a goddess.

"You're crazy," was your first reaction as you smiled. Heejin laughed. "No, I'm Aphrodite," she replied, putting her right hand on your neck as she kissed you. The goddess of love, lust, beauty, passion, pleasure, and most importantly, procreation. Heejin took the initiative from the start, unbuttonning your shirt as she kept kissing you. As she fully took your shirt off, you pushed her body closer to yours, giving her your most passionate kiss yet and running your left hand into her ass.

Heejin placed her hands on your torso and shoved you in the direction of the pool where your first meeting had happened. For a girl of her size, she was surprisingly strong, to the point that you were starting to believe she was indeed a goddess. Once you two had reached poolside, Heejin shoved you once again, this time towards not a regular pool chair but a whole king-size bed waiting for the two of you. The bed wasn't there at any moment previously, serving as a gift from the gods to their little Aphrodite. You looked at her perfect body as you lied on it, the remaining clothes on your body vanishing the moment your back hit the mattress. Heejin slowly climbed on it, crawling on top of your body as she gave you more kisses.

Her smile was beautiful and had you at your weakest every time she showed it. Her mouth sucked yours in a way resembling that of a soul eater. Heejin moved down your body and licked your still flaccid shaft for the first time, instantly turning it into a hard, throbbing, erected pole. You tugged her hair as you watched her lick it, groaning as she closed your eyes and delivered a tongue sweep of your tip. Heejin laughed as you reacted to it, repeating the move a few times before inserting it in her warm mouth, sucking it slowly while softly grabbing the base with her left hand. Her eyes full of lust looked at you as she now had both hands working her magic on your dick, using the right hand to stroke it hard while the left one still held the base.

Heejin now moved faster, turning a quick succession of blowjobs into her first deepthroat of your instrument. She had you on the edge from the start, continuing to rapidly suck it with little care if you were going to last for long. She treated your cock like a lollipop, making pop sounds as she put it in and out of her mouth and slapping it on her model-esque face and her sexy tongue. You couldn't resist her fast-paced blowjob for long as you started thrusting upwards to pound her throat. Heejin just took the hands of your cock and enjoyed your attempt to reach the depths of her mouth, trying to take as long as she could before inevitably gagging as she coughed on your penis.

Right after, Heejin gave you another smile and went back to her quick sucking ways before climbing on top of you while never keeping her hands out of your cock, stroking it fast and hard. Another fast and sloppy blowjob followed suit, and then you slowly guided her head in and out of your shaft, hearing the sexy popping noises every time her mouth pulled out of it. You gave her a pair of facefucks that made her cough once more before you too were competing to see who was faster: her hands stroking down your cock or your cock hitting Heejin up her mouth.

"I wanna ride your cock," Heejin whispered to your ear as she got it ready with hard strokes that had you throbbing harder than ever. You laid your back on the bed and watched her body cover the sun on top of you before moving to a straight position where she started grinding her entrance on your shaft. "Yeah, yeah," she softly moaned as her folds rubbed the sides of your pole. Heejin moaned the hardest when your tip hit her clit, as you held your cock firmly by the base for her to better grind on it, moving it a bit forward as she started going up, in such a way that once she went down, Heejin now had it fully inserted in her pussy.

"AHHHHHH," Heejin moaned beautifully as you filled her insides. Her ride was very slow, but she could take it deep from the start. Her moans after the first were soft and out of breath; her open mouth and closed eyes looked so visually pleasing as she bounced on your cock. "Oh, fuck, fuck. Oh God, you're so huge," she continued as she spread her legs and you ran your hands in her sexy thighs. At first, you just passively enjoyed it and let Heejin do all the work, moaning at each thrust, before joining in and pounding her from below as well. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," Heejin moaned quickly before she regained her composure and increased the speed of her ride.

"Yes, rub my clit, touch my pussy," she said as you reached your left hand into her genitals. Now Heejin's ride had reached a new level as your thumb poked her clit while she kept bouncing. "Harder," you asked her, leading to more rapid moans as she picked up the pace. Heejin put her hands on your chest and moved closer to you as you took the opportunity to kiss her while giving her pussy fast and hard poundings that quickly had her screaming, leading Heejin to react with a laugther as she coped with the sudden heat in her hole. She kept herself collected and switched to a slower pace, firmly scratching her nails on your chest and kissing you before going back to her original straightening position, keeping her body away from you and leaving you as just a spectator for her pleasure.

"Such a nice big cock; make me feel it deep," Heejin ordered in whispers as she continued to ride it. Her moans increased the tune; a few ahs were replaced by many yeses, and finally a loud "OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKK" that she screamed as if she were singing a high note. You tried once again to take advantage of her and pounce, but she was ready and just moved a little forward to keep moving as if nothing had happened. You tried to put your hands on her neck, but that didn't slow her down at all, having the opposite effect as she made sure you would now groan at each bounce.

"OH MY GODDDDD," Heejin finally showed some vulnerability, and you were finally able to strike, hitting her cunt fast and deep as her mouth opened to the fullest with her body tilting towards your chest and her screaming her lungs out right at your left ear. Heejin clings to you as you grab her from behind, and you too have a romantic makeout. She switches sides as she now faces the beautiful Aegean Sea in the background. "Yes, please give me your cock," she demands, ready for a new round of riding, but not before you slap it multiple times on her thorbbing vaginal lips, playing hide and seek with your shaft, eventually resting it under her ass as she grinds her folds on it once more. She moans as your tip goes in and you spread her cheeks for another ride, starting slowly before you spank her ass and ask her to go harder.

Heejin obliges, and with her body fully lined up against yours, she furiously rides your dick, giving you no rest whatsoever. Heejin may be the goddess, but now she's the one worshipping your divine cock. "Come on, faster," you demand of her with a big spank in her ass. Heejin goes harder, bouncing on you like a maniac as you now grab her by the waist. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" she screams the moment you put her ride to a halt and attack her cunt full speed, only stopping to slap her butt before you give her pussy another fast attack to the point your cock slips out of it. After this burst gets you tired, Heejin now tops you with her toes on top of her thighs, but you quickly answer back, making her cute little feet tremble as you shake her base. "DON'T STOP," she demands as you give her your biggest strike, making her skin red as she gets out of breath and recoupling herself with a slow and passionate ride aftewards as you suck her perky little tits.

"My clit yes, please," she says once again as you duck your hands under her entrance and fingers her with your penis still inside her stretched babyhole. "Yeah," Heejin moans as you circle around it, even touching your own shaft in the process. Your movements now increase as you make sure to stimulate the whole surface of her clitoris. The way she still manages to bounce on your dick makes it even hotter. Her pussy gets wetter as you increase the stimulation and attack her insides with your cock once again, just resting her head down in the bed as her cunt gets destroyed. Her ass gets slapped once more as you pull out of her and let her now take turns giving you a hot ride with her body tilted to her left before taking yet another massive pounding that makes her cheeks clap, spreading her ass as you strike once more and make her let out crying-esque moans.

Overwhelmed by your length, Heejin has to slow down. And wow, she really loves the cowgirl position, taking you once again on it, but this time in reverse, putting her hands on your belly as you look at her sexy back and soft ass, but not before doing her classic pole-grinding moves on your dick. "OHHHH," you groan. "AHHHH," she groans as your cock goes back inside her tight little slit. This time, Heejin goes for a very elongated ride, almost taking your cock completely out of her pussy at the top. "Slow and deep, slow and deep," she repeats to herself, already out of breath and giving out angelic moans each time she reaches the bottom of your massive member.

"Yes, rub my pussy just like that," Heejin demands as you return to stimulate her folds, catching her by surprise to the point your cock slips out of her hole, which Heejin quickly corrects. "Keep going, keep going; work your hands in my beautiful goddess pussy," she says. You give Heejin no rest, plowing her pussy fast with both hands now on her clit, spreading it wide open for the whole world to see as her juices coat your cock. Her clit is now harder than your dick, and her nipples are fully erect as she lets out more soft screams as you take her over the moon with your fast-paced poundings.

You pull out and keep teasing her erogenous zones, circling around her nipples and rubbing your tip on Heejin's throbbing clit before putting your cock back inside her. "Shit, yes, yes, yes," she says as you give her little pumps that hit her insides, before increasing the pace as you grab her legs. "Oh, you fuck me so good!" she exclaims, her little tits bouncing at each fucking. "Rub this pussy," you order her as she starts frenetically rubbing her clit. "Please make me cum," she says as her legs clench and she lacks the strength to continue riding before recomposing herself and taking it slowly, giving your tip a great treat as it hits the hood of your clit. Heejin changes her motion with long and deep bounces at moderate speed before you start clapping your balls hard in her entrance.

"Oh, please eat my pussy; just eat my pussy," she says as she sits it on your face with her hands on your belly. "Ride my face," you order her as Heejin starts to move, holding hands with you as you lick her hard-pounded cunt. "Good boy," she praises you as she goes down for the 69, taking it deep until she coughs and spits on your penis. You slap her ass a bit, as she now has her mouth full of your balls, going fast on your dick and slapping it on your tongue. You fuck her face hard on top of you, to which she laughs, as you now grab her perky tits as well. Heejin jerks off your cock more before she gives another order. "Please fuck my mouth," she says.

You grab Heejin's hair, tying it up so her beautiful face doesn't have anything standing between it and your big cock. You start slow as Heejin also bobs her head. It turns out her mouth isn't her pussy, as an upside-down Heejin coughs all over your cock and struggles to even take it halfway in. She tries to adjust, but a quick pounding already has saliva flying all over her mouth as she bubbles on your dick. Heejin tries to smile, but she is clearly overwhelmed, instead getting on her knees and gently jerking your cock as she gives you a cute kiss.

"Fuck me from behind," she tells you as you get out of bed. Her pussy looks very stretched out and extremely wet as you spread her cheeks. Like usual, you rub your thobbing tip on Heejin's similarly thobbing inner lips and insert it first just to tease her before pulling it out. It seems like the entire blood of Heejin's body now flows to her cunt, as just a simple touch in her vaginal area makes her moan. You continue to tease her with the tip-fucking, not committing your full length, as just a quarter of your cock inside makes her scream.

As Heejin lets out her first laugh in a while, you insert your cock halfway in, still giving her slow pumps. "Such a nice ass," you praise her bottom assets, still treating her pussy gently, especially in comparison to what you did early on. But you can't resist for long, inserting it fully back on Heejin's wet pussy, leading to another scream as she reaches peak sensitivity, closing her legs and pushing your cock out of her hole. Heejin now just closes her eyes, trying to stay on her knees as you slowly fuck her slit once again. But every deeper thrust makes her lose it. You grab her cheeks as you increase the pace before deciding to use no hands and getting into rhythm. Heejin puts her head on the bed and keeps her eyes closed. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," she rapdily repeats as you push harder, even squeaking a little.

You couldn't resist for long, now firmly grabbing Heejin's ass and clapping her cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes, please, please, please," she begs. Her small tits bounce a lot. At this point, you two were just exploring every possibility. As Heejin got a little less sensitive, she was now the one rocking her hips against your crotch, which ended up being bad for her as you just grabbed her butt and reasserted your dominance. "AHHHHHHHHHH!" she screamed once more as her tits were once again jiggling. Heejin held your right hand as the fire continued to burn inside her pussy; she no longer had any strength to resist your advances, just clinting to you as you destroyed her cunt nonstop, and only AHs came out of her mouth now.

Heejin turned around and opened her legs for you to eat her out; her messy hair now had untied itself and hit her eyes. You lick her like ice cream, starting at her hole and going all the way up to her little trim, before diving into her clit and making her twist. Heejin put her right foot on your back to support herself as you continued to lick her before inserting a finger in her pussy and tasting it. Now you were tonguing her clit hard to the point where she squirted a little in your mouth. You increased the hit by adding a second finger while still licking it. Heejin fell weaker, pressing her foot harder against your back as your tongue turned her folds wetter for the final round.

"Breed me. Put a baby inside a goddess; I know you want it, she told you as she put her right leg up and you slowly fucked her in missionary. You put her right foot in your mouth as you went faster. Heejin fingered herself as she waited for your cum; her insides were extremely sensitive. "Fuck me like this," she asked you as you two kept going. Your thrusts got faster but shallower as you kissed her beautiful feet and rubbed her belly. Going faster, you put Heejin under a mating press, which she enjoyed a lot, meaning she was going to get inseminated the same way the whores from the many hentais she loves to read are. Despite that, she still managed to finger herself. "Give me your cum; give me your cum," she demanded as you groaned and got closer. "Cum in my pussy," she continued, as you eventually unleashed inside her womb with your cock balls deep in her, coating her insides with your sperm as some rolled out a little while you pulled out and teased her clit for one final time with your tip.

"Wow, I can't believe you came inside me," Heejin said. "I can't say no to a goddess," you said as you returned home. The following day, you went back to the lodge but found it empty. It turns out Heejin and her ARTMS groupmates had already flown back to Korea.

Meanwhile, on the plane...

"Heejin, are you okay?" Haseul asked, sensing her groupmate's sickness. "Sorry, I'm a little sick. I think I drank too much last night when we went out," Heejin replied as she barely had time to finish her sentence, unhooking her seatbelt and rushing to the plane's bathroom, where she threw up the food she had just eaten.

[yumeka-sxf]

After what seems like a long time, we finally have a full "Forgers bonding" chapter, in a new location as well 😁

Even though the focus of the chapter was the murder mystery (heavily inspired by Detective Conan) and it didn't have a serious tone (just look at the names of the guest characters! 🤣) there were actually quite a lot of Twiyor tidbits scattered throughout, and I'm here to slurp them up!

Firstly is Twilight trying his best to make sure Yor and Anya are safe with their amateur skiing skills.

And as usual, overlooking anything abnormal that Yor does 😅

When they get to the lodge, he considers her feelings about sharing a room.

Even though she says she'll put up with it, he knows it makes her uncomfortable, so he volunteers to sleep on the sofa so she and Anya can have their own beds. Of course, just the thought of sharing a room with Loid is too much for Yor to handle 😅

Twilight starts to wonder when she doesn't come back for a while.

He's obviously happy when she returns - in the Japanese version, he even says おかえり(welcome back/home).

When he sees there's foul play going on, he immediately wants Yor and Anya out of danger (he also trusts that Yor will keep Anya safe).

Despite Yor being the only one without an alibi, he doesn't show any suspicion (even after hearing her "probably" slip up!)

And lastly, when the others start accusing Yor, he defends her. This scene reminded me a lot of the scene way back during the Eden interview where Swan started putting her down and he stuck up for her without any second-guessing. Even though Twilight gave a lot of fake smiles throughout this chapter, the mix of determination and anger in his expression on the below page is not fake - it's a true look of "I will definitely find the culprit (so no one should accuse my wife!)"

I guess my only nitpick about the chapter is that I wanted it to go on longer, mostly for more Forger interactions (and Loid/Yor reactions when sharing the same room, lol). I thought it would last at least another chapter where we'd see exactly how the mystery was solved. But I guess the joke is that the Forgers are the most OP crime solving team without even knowing it, so no culprit can get away from them for too long! Between Loid's intelligence, Anya's mind reading, Bond's visions, and (though it didn't come into play here) Yor's super strength, they'd be able to solve murder mysteries and apprehend criminals before the police could even file a report! 😂

A couple final comments, I like that Twilight decided to trust Anya's intuition in the end, despite not seeming that way at first (and did she seriously bring the detective outfit with her on the trip?😆) And just like with Yor, no questions about this peculiarity with Anya - no wondering why she knew the time and place of the next murder...what's that expression, "love is blind"? 😅

And Yor always ready to protect Anya ❤️(also looks like she's having some alcohol while Loid isn't...guess she needed something to calm her nerves at the thought of sharing a room with him!)

Endo is going to take a break, so next new chapter won't be until February 19th. Have a nice break, Endo-sensei!

[littlexdeaths]

bye bye bye - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

opposites attract masterlist

warnings: gareth is a dickhead, hope y’all like some cheesy fluff, eddie is a complete dork but we love him for it.

a/n: this is a repost of my first y2k eddie fic, with some much needed edits and additions. i will be working on editing and posting the rest of this series soon. i hope you enjoy 💕

word count: 1.5k

Today really hadn’t gone how you’d planned.

You had been hanging out with Eddie and his band mates, something you’d done quite often. Only this time you made the mistake of wearing your *NSYNC tour shirt.

It wasn’t a secret that you and Eddie had polar opposite tastes, it was apparent by just looking at you. You were all pink, bubblegum and boy bands. And your boyfriend was a leather clad, heavy metal enthusiast.

Despite these differences, you fit so well together.

And as they say— opposites attract.

But one of his friends was always more standoffish towards you because of it. While you were always nice to Gareth, he seemed annoyed anytime Eddie brought you around. But today that annoyance had seemingly reached its peak.

And all over a stupid t-shirt.

Eddie had gone to get you both a drink, leaving you in the living room with the three other males. They were discussing the newest Linkin Park album. Which oddly enough, was a band you actually enjoyed outside your normal realm of music.

You perked up at the mention of the album, as it had been the only thing Eddie had been playing since it was released. Feeling eager to see what they also thought of it.

“Oh come on man, you can't say Meteora is better than Hybrid Theory,” Jeff scoffs, shaking his head in response to Gareth’s admission as Eddie leaves the room.

The male rolls his eyes before tossing a piece of popcorn at Jeff’s head, “See that’s where you’re wrong dude, have you tried listening to the albums back to back?”

You take this as an opportunity to add in your two cents, trying to include yourself in the conversation despite your nerves.

“Well, personally I think both albums are great in their own—”

You are interrupted with a loud snort as Gareth rudely cuts you off, glancing down at your shirt before meeting your eyes.

“Why would we care about your opinion of it? All you listen to is boy band trash pop,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his friends.

It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, any other words became lodged in your throat. Jeff and Grant throw apologetic glances your way, but continue on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Eddie returns shortly after, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. He plops down next to you on the sofa and passes you a can of coke. Due to your solemn appearance, he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.

A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, replying with a shrug of your shoulders.

You let your eyes fall to the open can of soda clutched in your fist. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially not in front of them. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or to give Gareth the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

So you sat quietly through the next half hour, letting Eddie enjoy the time with his friends.

But he couldn’t seem to let it go, far too focused on what had caused this sudden shift in your mood. So he ended the hangout early, claiming to be too tired from work. But all of you knew the real reason, guilt filled your chest as he walked you out to his van.

They must think you’re a buzzkill too.

The questions started the moment the door shut behind him, badgering you the entire way back to your house. You easily dodged his line of questioning, claiming to be tired. But Eddie wasn’t having any of that, he could see right through you. He always could.

“Baby, come on. Talk to me please,” he pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.

You continued to ignore him as you sat on the bed with a sigh. You felt embarrassed, knowing such a silly comment shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. All you wanted was for his friends to like you, but it was made abundantly clear that they didn’t.

All because you favored pop music? It all felt so trivial, like they weren’t even willing to give you a real chance. It hurt your feelings more than you cared to admit.

But Eddie being the sweet, doting boyfriend that he was— wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Just tell me what happened, sweetheart.” He says, kneeling in front of you, palms resting on either side of your thighs.

“It’s stupid,” you mutter, avoiding his curious gaze.

“Nothing that upset you this much is stupid,” he counters as you let out a groan, dramatically falling back onto the mattress and covering your face.

You hear his exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of his chest against yours as he leans over you. Eddie carefully removes your hands from your face, looking down at you expectantly.

“Your friends don’t like me,” you utter softly.

He frowns, confusion settling on his features.

“Why do you say that?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes which causes his frown to deepen.

“Well, just look at me…” you trail off, gesturing to yourself. “And look at you.”

It’s his turn to sigh now, taking your hands as he guides you back into a sitting position. Eddie cups your cheeks in between his palms, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I know what you’re insinuating, but I promise that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” He reassures you, his dark eyes utterly sincere.

And as much as you want to believe him, there’s still a small part of you that wonders if maybe they are right. Maybe you’re too different. He must be able to read the apprehension lingering on your features, as one of determination crosses over his.

“I don’t know what they said to make you think that,” he pauses to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I won’t hesitate to kick some ass, sweetheart.”

Despite the teasing lithe in his voice you know he’s serious, quickly shaking your head. The last thing you’d want is to cause more beef with his friends.

“It’s fine, Eds, I’m just too sensitive.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, “Let’s just drop it, yeah?”

You pull away to scoot further up the mattress, patting the spot beside you. But he shakes his head, remaining on the floor for a moment. His eyes dart contemplatively around the room, stopping on the shelf that held your extension CD collection.

A Cheshire-like grin tugs at his lips as he moves towards it, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your brows knit together in confusion as his ringed fingers graze over the plastic spines, stopping once he finds what he was looking for. Eddie pops the disc out of its case and into the clunky boombox before pressing play.

The beginning chords of Bye Bye Bye fill the once quiet space of your bedroom. Your boyfriend quickly jumps to his feet, spinning around to face you. He plants his feet on the carpet, head falling forward as his hands raise up in a marionette style.

Your eyes widen in realization as you crawl back towards the edge of your bed, suddenly intrigued. Eddie shoots a wink your way once he meets your gaze, beginning to sing along. His voice stood out amongst the others, the raspy quality brought a new edge to the track.

But he didn’t stop there.

You watched in amazement as he nailed all the choreography from the music video. You had no idea when he found the time to study all the moves. Between classes, work, hellfire and band practice he barely had time to think.

But knowing he took the time to do this, specifically for you— made your stomach flutter.

You can’t stop the smile from lighting up your features, giggling as your boyfriend continues to serenade you.

“I don’t want to be your fool, in this game for two…”

Eddie drops to his knees at your feet again, coaxing you onto the floor with him. He presses feather light kisses all over your face, the sensation causes you to giggle more. As hurt as you had been, the male always knew how to make you forget your problems.

At least for a little while.

“That’s my girl,” he mumbled, grinning down at you.

He’s a little out of breath from his impromptu dance routine, bangs lightly sticking to his forehead.

“You’re an absolute dork, Ed,” you giggle, ruffling his curls in a playful manner.

But the way he’s looking at you has your heart racing. His head dips, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as the song comes to an end.

“Now, admit it,” he chuckles against your mouth, nudging his nose with yours. “I’m a much better dancer than that Dustin Timberlake.”

You laugh loudly, fondly shaking your head at him.

“It’s Justin, baby…”

[parvulous-writings]

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin realising his feelings for his gn crush?

Warnings: mentions of Astarion's trauma. I added a scene that doesn't technically exist in-game to flesh things out a bit with Halsin.

Notes:  Please, Tumblr... More Halsin and Gale gifs pls My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Astarion

As we all know, it takes a long time for Astarion to be able to fall in love properly. His two centuries of having to seduce prey for Cazador have made it very hard to tell where the sultry facade ends, and the true him begins. He was meant to have seduced you for protection, to get you to fall for him and defend him should he ever need it. That was the plan, in any case. To him, it was fool-proof - he had never fallen in love with an object of his 'affection' before, so this should have been easy.

He was very wrong - though your do-good nature really irked him at first, it eventually made him want to be the same. Or, at least, similar. Part of him wished that he could have had someone like you earlier, to save him from the horrors he had seen under Cazador. Your patience with him, and your unwavering kindness got through to him, and he craved more - even if he thought he didn't deserve it.

He realised he loved you - truly, deeply loved you - when you and some of your group had infiltrated Moonrise Towers. You'd encountered a drow who was hell-bent on exploring the Sanguine arts, and had even started to press Astarion to bite her, despite his protests. You had stood up for him, told her to back off, and it was that moment that he had realised that his feelings for you were more than an infatuation, more than seeing you as something to use for protection, that it was love.

Gale

Gale had been fond of you since day 1 - though, being pulled out of a collapsing portal may do that to someone's view of another. Your views often aligned - though sometimes the means to achieve them did not - and that endeared you all the more to him. Even when he told you of the orb lodged deep within his chest, demanding he consume strands of weave, you stuck by him; and he hadn't entirely thought you would.

Being able to travel by your side and see all the good deeds you do is an honour for him - he'll often sit and think about how his life would have been had he not been snatched up by the mindflayers. He'd probably be in his tower in Waterdeep, with no one but Tara for company, and little to do besides wallow in his own self-pity. This was a much better alternative - even with the looming possibility of ceremorphosis.

His feelings first started when you said that you could stay with the group after he revealed the nature of the orb in his chest. It was only natural, after being shown such kindness. But the moment he really knew he loved you, was after Elminster had delivered Mystra's missive to Gale - about destroying the heart of the Absolute by detonating the orb in his chest. When you had gotten so uptight with the older wizard, telling him it wouldn't happen, that Gale wasn't going to die, he couldn't help but find you sweet. Though he had initially resigned himself to Mystra's demands, he couldn't deny it felt nice to have someone on his side.

Halsin

To begin with, Halsin admired you, but was not emotionally available enough to pursue any kind of romantic relationship with you - his mind was focused more on ridding Moonrise of the Shadow Curse. It was only really once that part of your journey had concluded that he could even start to think about that kind of thing.

You had proven yourself to be a person of your word, and that was something that Halsin always held a great amount of respect for. To find someone who followed through with the promises they made, let alone to be able to travel with them, was an absolute blessing - one that Halsin thanked the gods for every day. It was with your help the curse was dispelled, and the lands freed; that was no easy feat, and he couldn't have done it without you.

During the rather small celebration the party and a few others had post-curse, Halsin sat and thought to himself about all that you had done for him - all that you, hadn't quite sacrificed per se, but had given to help him. You'd taken many beatings to help him on his own quest, when it probably would have been more beneficial for you to pursue your own - which was arguably just as pressing, if not more so. Your courage endeared you to him, and it was as he sat there, amidst the celebratory drinking and serenading, that he realised he would devote himself to you as much as you had done to him; following you to Baldur's Gate, and facing whatever it was that was at the end of your journey.

[littlejuicebox]

An Early Highharvestide Feast

(Soft Dom Astarion x Female Reader)

-----

Setting: 4 years after BG3, "good" ending, Unascended Astarion x F Reader Notes: Took a break from my WrenxAstarion fic to write this Thanksgiving-themed (kind of but not really... lol it just worked for the plot), one shot. This idea was playing in my head, and I had to get it out. Hope you all enjoy and have a happy Thanksgiving! This might end up being a Part 1 of a mini story. I'd like to do the fluff scene with all their friends around and imagine the lives they've lived. I love to see comments about what you liked in the story, it inspires me for other fics. Rating: Mature 18+ / smut Word Count: 2.5K

-----

You’re in the kitchen, flowers strewn about the marble countertop as you arrange the bouquets for tomorrow’s banquet. It’s been four years since you’ve seen everyone at the same time, and finally, finally, the old gang will be back together in one room in less than 24 hours. Your heart practically soared in anticipation... a Highharvestide banquet in your very own home, with your favorite people in the world. You wanted everything to be just perfect.

The planning had taken weeks. Astarion had left the menu to you, of course, apart from the wine and alcohol selection. He had taken that from you quite early on and it had been more than a tenday before he solidified his choices between his frequent business meetings and your political events. He’d focused heavily on guiding you both in politics and expanding your wealth the past few years, while you focused on gardening and improving Baldur's Gate... plus navigating the lack of anonymity in your life.

Admittedly, you’d stumbled clumsily through your change in status, from unknown woman to Lady Ancunin, while Astarion glided into the position like he’d simply left his post for a long vacation. You’d been happy to take the lead in the wilds while a tadpole was lodged in everyone's brains, but you were even happier to hand the reins to him once the city was safe. And you were always proud to tell your friends that he’d navigated the two of you through the changes quite well.

In fact, he'd just purchased a second property outside of Baldur’s Gate with aims to start your very own winery; his pet project that he loved quite dearly. It was beautiful to watch Astarion approach something with such passion and vigor. After becoming the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, it had pained you that he could no longer stand in the sun. Not as much as it so obviously pained him. His mask was carefully crafted, and yet you often saw right through it. You hoped that perhaps one of your friends would bring news of a cure for his condition to the feast.

He had always been adamant that he’d make the same choice over and over again, but guilt still stabbed you like a dagger to the gut when you saw him watch the sun rise from the deepest depths of your manor or caught him studying your tan lines from your many hours spent out in the garden, your own personal pet project, specializing primarily in night blooming plants.

Astarion’s voice pulls you from your reverie as he enters the kitchen with Scratch trailing behind him. His vermillion eyes are focused on a scroll in his hands as he grasps a bone from a jar and tosses it into the dog’s bed. Scratch obediently settles himself into the plush mattress, content to gnaw away at the treat.

“Darling, your dog went after the chickens again. One of the staff had to run him down and then give him a bath. We may want to seriously consider a trainer. Command beast works all well and good when you’re around, but not everyone has that skill set in their repertoire, dear.” His tone carries just the slightest tinge of annoyance; you two have had this conversation before. But you know in his heart of hearts that Astarion loves the blasted dog perhaps more than you do.

You glance at Scratch, currently focused on giving you his best look of feigned innocence. The look reminds you quite a bit of another white-haired miscreant standing in that very same kitchen and you chuckle. Distracted, you feel the miscalculated slip of your hand as you reach for a particularly thorned flower stem. The punishing sting causes you to wince and pull in a sharp intake of breath. Blood blooms in buds of red on your fingers and the scent catches Astarion’s attention immediately.

His eyes are alight as he chides you. “You really must stop bleeding everywhere, my heart. It’s distracting.” He places the scroll down and comes to your side, grasping your hand in his to examine the damage.

“Perhaps if you helped me with these arrangements like I’d asked, I wouldn’t be in this situation, my love.” You respond with a soft huff, but you extend your hand towards the vampire, already quite aware what his next move will be. He bends to lick the red droplets from your skin before he kisses the knuckle of your hand. Astarion will never waste such a precious thing, that much is certain.

“Perhaps if you more frequently used the staff -- that we pay quite well, might I add -- to do things like tend your garden, put all these flowers in vases, and perform any number of menial tasks, then you wouldn’t be in this situation.” The vampire retorts with a raised eyebrow. “All of this is below your station now. It truly pains me to see your beautiful hands doing such things, my dear.”

You smile as you close your eyes and whisper a healing incantation, sealing the superficial wounds with minimal effort. You swivel in your seat and turn to face your husband, eyebrow arched to mirror his own, voice slipping into a coy register. “And what, Lord Ancunin, would you rather see my hands doing?”

You won. You could see it in the darkening of his eyes as he placed his hands on either side of the counter and pressed forward to look at you, red eyes flitting between yours.

Astarion had ebbed and flowed in his sexual appetites, especially in the first few years of your union. He had been plagued by panic attacks and night terrors something awful; they still occurred but not with the same horrid frequency. Your many nights of herbal teas and "flower child" magic, as he so lovingly called it, eased the suffering. You’d been content to ride the waves of desire with him, and it seemed more recently, as the two of you adjusted to domestic life, his appetites had returned with force.

His face hovered just inches in front of yours, eyes alight with a combination of adoration and lust as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before pulling back and running his eyes greedily down your body, cocking his head as he fantasized about any number of dirty things. “I have several delicious ideas for those hands, darling.”

The flowers were scattered on the ground, along with a broken vase in an instant. The vampire hoisted you up with relative ease before placing you onto the cool, marbled counter. His hands grazed up the side of your silken gown and then delved under the hem to explore your bare skin. He quickly found his way to the junction between your thighs and a pleased, rakish smile crossed his face.

“No underclothes, Lady Ancunin? You truly do desire to test my patience today.” His eyes locked with yours as he knelt in front of you, draping your legs over his shoulders and pushing your dress up to reveal you to him fully.

You would have to enlist the help of the staff tomorrow afternoon. The tradeoff was well worth it, you thought, as your silver-haired husband bowed his head before you to run his tongue against your slit, a little hum escaping him as he tasted your warmth. He ran his tongue up to your clit, his lazy, languid strokes pressing into you. Always such a tease.

“Astarion…” You murmur, bucking your hips toward the vampire as your hands found silver curls of hair and took hold.

A smile snaked its way across his lips as he continued his torment. You were wriggling, desperate for more, which the elf adamantly denied you, his hands gripping into your thighs as he brushed his feather light tongue against you once more. Just enough stimulation to keep your attention, but not enough to provide any relief.

“My love..” Your tone is practically begging for him to give you more.

“Mm, darling. I do believe I need to show you what else your hands could do, don’t I?” He grabs your hand and yanks it towards your sex, where he guides you to play with yourself. Hungry red eyes watch the show as arousal begins to drip from you onto the countertop. He slips two long fingers deep inside your cunt and curls them slightly, pumping the digits in and out, which earns him a delightful moan. Still on his knees, the vampire removes his fingers from inside your walls and licks your juices off his hand before sliding your legs off his shoulders and standing. He makes quick work of ripping your gown over your head, pressing gentle kisses against the newly freed flesh of your chest. You are now completely barren and exposed to your lover, his lustful eyes stoking the fire between your legs.

His own arousal is now clearly straining against his clothes. Astarion quickly undoes the buttons of his collar and lacings of his trousers, freeing his cock before your hungry gaze. You’re still playing with yourself as you watch the man completely undress before you.

“Now darling…” He murmurs in that sensual tone reserved only for you. He guides your unoccupied hand to the twitching length of his cock and wraps it around the shaft, giving a few experimental pumps into your hand. “What else can your beautiful hands do?”

You take the queue and begin moving your hand around his length. Astarion hisses in pleasure, rolling his hips as he fucks your hand. The vision is quite lewd; you're playing with your own pussy as you pump your lover’s cock in time, your respective arousals just inches from one another but not touching. It's enough to cause the heat in your cheeks and your sex to rise and illicit several excited keens from you. He teasingly moves his length closer to your entrance, pulling away just as the head of his member brushes against you. You want to scream every time he pulls away, the bastard lives to tease you to the edge of desire.

Astarion was watching the scene with rapt interest, absolutely transfixed. His breath was quickening as he pressed himself into your hand, watching the head of his penis sheath and unsheathe itself under your ministrations as your pussy prayed to be plunged into, leaking arousal all over the cold countertop. He was always more in control in these situations, able to keep a firm hold on his desire in a way you never could.

“Look at my little treat, making such a mess on these expensive counters.” He murmured in mock disappointment and mock condescension, eyes burning with excitement. “Play with yourself and show me the mess you make when you cum for me, my sweet.”

You moan, desperate to have him fill you. “Astarion, please. Fuck me already. Please.” You’re keening, fingers rubbing against your clit with vigor. Desperate for something to fill the ache inside you, you remove your hand from your lover’s cock and shove two fingers into your wetness. The stimulation is fantastic and rips a moan from your vocal cords as your head tilts back.

Astarion chuckles darkly at the scene before him. It was no secret that he loved the way you inflated his ego when you begged for him, a writhing mess of wanton desire for his eyes only. The do-good, stoic hero of Baldur’s Gate turned into a desperate, needy little minx under his touch. He never tired of it. “Cum for me, darling. And then you will get your reward.”

You aim to do as he says, using one hand to plunge in and out of yourself while the other rubs frantically at your clit. Your legs are spread wide, displaying everything to the vampire as you push yourself towards release. Finally, the bubble bursts and an orgasm crashes around you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body and into your thobbing sex. The pulsing seems nearly endless, and you feel the ooze of your juices sliding between your legs as you ride the wave of pleasure. When you come to your senses and flutter your lids open, Astarion's eyes are boring into you with such desire that it causes a tremor of excitement to run down your spine.

In one swift move he has you in a new position. Your feet are on the floor, albeit legs a bit shaky, and your ass is turned toward your lover, body bent at the waist. Your face is pressed into the counter, into the stickiness of your own juices. Everything smells of sex.

A delicious groan escapes from the vampire as he presses the head of his cock into your entrance, ready to take you from behind. “Beautiful... now, let’s see if I am able to make you come undone once more.”

Astarion slams into you with vigor, the force of the movement knocking the wind out of you as he groans in appreciation. Your soaking wet sex offers no resistance and you gasp at the pleasure of the rapid intrusion. He repeatedly drags himself back at a tortuous, languid pace just to thrust himself balls-deep once more, snapping his hips into the flesh of your ass, moaning every time he takes you to the hilt.

“Oh gods!” You exclaim as he picks up the pace, pumping into you with increasing speed, his cock curving gratifyingly along your insides. You feel yourself clenching around him as his efforts push you toward another peak.

Astarion growls and grabs your hand, guiding it once again to your clit. You’re climbing up to a second release as he rolls his hips behind you in an unceasing onslaught.

“There you go, little love. Won’t you cum for me again?” He coaxes in a graveled whisper as his lips and tongue trail down your spine, never once ceasing his thrusts. The vampire’s teeth find a beautiful little spot at the meeting point of your shoulder and neck, and he bites down, just enough to draw blood. The sensation pushes you over the edge and you spasm around your lover, your cunt eagerly gripping at his length.

“Oh! Oh... oh, my love.” The vampire groans as your throbbing sex pushes him over the edge, his final pumps turning sloppy as he spills into you. The two of you are a mess of panting chests and tired limbs for a few moments before Astarion straightens himself up and gently pulls you from the counter, dotting kisses along your shoulder where he left the bite.

"That was wonderful." You whisper, turning to face the vampire as you plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Mmh.” Astarion agrees in a little hum as he looks down at you with soft and loving eyes, pushing strands of hair away from your face before holding your chin in his hand and planting another kiss on your lips. The slightest of smiles flits across his lips as he runs his hands down to the curve of your waist. You move to begin cleaning up the mess you two made when your lover grabs your hand and begins to tug you away from the kitchen.

"Now, now, darling. Leave that be. I haven't finished showing you what else your hands can do… and we only have a bit longer before our friends show and ruin all the fun. Seems my Highharvestide feast came a day early." He muses, before eagerly leading you to the bedroom you both share. The flowers would have to wait.

——-

Part 2: Happy Highharvestide Day (all fluff)

[dxckgrxsonx]

Quiet Realisations (i)

Pairing - Jason Todd X (F) Reader (Friends to Lovers) Words - 2.6k Warnings - Fluff - Angst - Forehead Kisses - Platonic Affection - Jason Cries - Comfort - Domestic!Jason - Reader plays with Jason’s hair - Swearing. Notes - I’m trapped in a glass case of emotion. This is going to be a series because I have so many different scenes planned out for the Friends to Lovers trope. Plus I wanted to try and write something that would challenge me a little, personally, I don’t think fluff is my strong point. Hope you enjoy!! 💕

PART TWO // MASTERLIST

**

‘There's something in your throat that wants to get out and you won’t let it.’

**

You swear it’s not a big deal.

There’s a lump lodging itself in the back of your throat and you find that no matter how hard you try, you can’t quite swallow it down. Fingers shaking like you’re holding onto something heavy, something so scorching hot that you’re convinced it’s going to burn a hole straight through the palm of your hand.

Part of you wants to drop it, nudge it under the sofa and forget about it, pretend it isn’t there–almost like kicking a rouge ice cube under the fridge in the kitchen. But you can’t forget it, can’t swallow the lump from your throat or clip a leash around that endless softness stirring in the pit of your stomach.

It’s not a big deal.

You’ve been close friends for a while now, you know in the back of your head that this is the next logical step forwards.

But god fucking help you, it feels like you’re offering up your soul on a plate.

**

He’s been here since before dawn.

The latch on your window remains slightly ajar. You find that something in the back of your head protests when you try to close it, digs its heels into the ground and refuses point blank to budge, even though you know that if you were to close it, he would still find his way in.

Something about letting him know that he’s always welcome. That if you close it, it sends him a certain message.

You’ve long since grown accustomed to the quiet click of your window as it opens. Memorised the almost silent pattern of footsteps as someone pads through your living room towards the bathroom. It used to fill you with dread, have you flaring awake neck deep in fight or flight and scrambling for your phone, a weapon, something to offer protection.

But recently, you’ve found that subconsciously your brain no longer registers the noise as a threat.

Still, you always make an effort to wake up, to check for injuries, to make sure he’s okay.

More than once he’s come tumbling through your window gasping for breath, weak, barely conscious and bleeding.

You remember the first few times that happened, the utter panic, the absolute shot of adrenaline punching fiercely through your ribs when you wake to the sound of his body hitting the floor like a complete deadweight.

After the first time, you started stashing first aid kits throughout the apartment. Sometimes you find yourself reaching for the one next to your bed in your sleep, would wake up with the kit clenched tight between your fingers like a lifeline.

Thankfully, this time he’s fine, and you were awake for a mere few minutes before he told you to go back to sleep with that small, tired smile you love so much.

You’ll never admit it.

Not to god, not under torture, not even to your own reflection in the mirror.

But you didn’t sleep until you heard him settle on your sofa and go quiet. You’ve always been more content with the knowledge that he was safe and comfortable than losing a few minutes of extra sleep.

Jason would never admit it either, but he knows that you stay awake and wait for him to drift off. Has known for months that on those nights where he comes to you, you lie in your bed and listen out for him until you’re convinced he’s okay.

You care in quiet ways.

Like stashing first aid kits in your apartment, leaving the latch on the window un-done, and waiting, soft and tired, for him to fall asleep first.

**

You pad into the living room quietly.

Beelining for the kitchen you smother a yawn into your fist and chance a split second glance to the lump on your sofa. There’s an involuntary quirk of your lips when your eyes settle on him, gaze cataloguing the lazy sprawl of his limbs and the way his hair peeks out at odd angles from underneath the blanket.

Grabbing the sight with both hands you tuck it away, ease it warm and gentle between the smooth curve of your ribs. You exhale—maybe in relief at the sight of him, safe and alive and uninjured for once.

Or maybe, you exhale because looking at him, curled up under your blanket–in your home–is making you a little dizzy.

You breathe oxygen back into your lungs quietly and almost miss the slight change in his breathing. For one horrible moment you think you may have woken him. Jason has always been sensitive to people’s eyes on him, even when he’s sleeping.

You wonder sometimes, if he ever truly gets to rest. 

Grabbing something to eat you wander back, and pull up short when you feel his gaze on you. There’s a strange look on his face you don’t see often, a flicker of something opening, it’s almost like looking at your window in the early hours of the morning, cracked open at the bottom and letting the cold air sweep in.

“Hey.” You smile, voice soft with sleep.

A small smile tips up Jason’s mouth in return and you find that your goddamn traitorous heart skips a beat.

Plonking yourself down directly on Jason’s stomach you take a big bite of your cereal bar and turn your head to glance at him, “You’re not very comfortable.”

Shifting so he lays flat on his back Jason grunts and plucks the cereal bar straight out of your greedy fingers, “Good. I hope sitting on me brings you incredible pain.” Shovelling the rest of the bar into his mouth he throws the wrapper at the side of your head.

Rolling your eyes you sweep the wrapper onto the floor, “Real mature.”

Shuffling around you settle with your thighs bracketing Jason’s hips. Smothering another yawn into your hands you squint when a beam of early morning sunlight streaks through your curtains and into your eyes.

Resting on your knees you lean over Jason’s head to tug them closed. Curling your fingers into the rough fabric you wobble, slightly unbalanced before firm fingers skirt over your ribcage and hold you in place.

There’s a flutter of your pulse at the feel of Jason's warm hand cupping your side. His thumb strokes gently over the curved bones and part of you feels like you’re going to turn to liquid and slip straight through his fingers.

You swallow and your voice comes out thick, “Thanks.”

Jason tightens his grip, “No problem.”

Leaning back and settling into place once more you stare at Jason’s hair, the strands sticking out at various angles from where it’s been trapped under his helmet on patrol, then ruffled as he’s slept. Your fingers itch with the urge to comb through the messy strands, mouth pressing into a barely controlled line.

“Jay,” You start, and you feel his attention swing to you. Humming non-sequentially as an answer he waits patiently, eyes slipping shut. “Can I please, please, please sort your hair out. You look like you’ve been struck by lightning.”

One side of his mouth hooks up in a crooked grin, one eye opening and flicking upwards, “You think mine is bad? You should look at yours.”

“You first.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, almost like you’ve wounded him, but he nods non-the-less.

Reaching out tentatively, you brush through the bone white streak first, fingers catching in the tangles and tugging them loose. Using your free hand you cup Jason’s face, thumb resting along his strong jawline to keep his head still as your other hand slowly works through his hair.

Pulling at a particularly stubborn knot Jason hisses through his teeth.

“Be quiet,” You mumble, slightly distracted, focused. “M’almost done, two more minutes, okay?” You feel his eyebrow quirk up against the pads of your fingers and a stupid smile curves your lips. “Put that thing down or so help me.”

Jason laughs and you feel the vibrations through your thighs, “Y’don’t scare me.”

It’s involuntary. You do it without thinking. In the back of your head, you wonder if someone has gone in and switched off half of your brain, the part that controls critical thinking. It’s knee jerk, reflective in that strange way people can do things on autopilot.

You pull his hair.

And witness something incredible.

Jason chokes back a groan, the sound trapped and desperate behind his teeth. His pupils blow wide, pretty colour swallowed by something heated, something you’ve never been before. Your breath comes out short, you feel almost giddy at his reaction, like you’re on top of the goddamn world.

Going to open his mouth you move your thumb from his jaw and press it against his plush lips, “Shush, I warned you. Now let me finish.”

Without missing a beat Jason bites your thumb, teeth sinking in hard enough to leave a perfect indent behind. His eyes are almost glittering and you grab his jaw between your thumb and forefinger.

“Todd,” You growl, squeezing tightly enough to get your message across. “Stop being a child.”

Holding him in place you comb your fingers through his hair one last time, satisfied as your fingers run through without catching on any tangles. Tugging at the white streak you twist the strands around your finger until it falls in a perfect little curl.

“There,” You declare, letting him go and leaning back. “Pretty as a picture.”

**

Standing side by side in the kitchen you and Jason work together to clean and dry the dishes. Looking over at him out of the corner of your eye you can’t help but think that domesticity suits him.

Sure, you’ve seen him decked out in his full Red Hood gear, kevlar plates, holsters filled with guns and a scary amount of knives tucked in his combat boots. You’ve seen him tall and broad shouldered and dangerous. But there’s something soft, something aching like a day old bruise at the sight of him in sweatpants and a hoodie helping you wash the dishes.

He suits being soft.

Jason fits into your space like a perfect puzzle piece, slots into the gap you never noticed was missing. He tucks his various angles into your home without a scratch and scathingly, you realise he’s managed to fold himself up small and quiet beside your heart.

Forearm deep in hot soapy water your eye catches his sleeve slipping.

Dropping the cloth from your hands you lean over and push his sleeve back into place, making sure to fold the elastic over his elbow so it doesn’t slip down again. A quick, pleased hum rumbles through your chest and you go back to drying the dishes again without a word.

“Thanks.” Jason mumbles.

There's something different in his voice but you can’t pinpoint what it is, his words are a little thicker than normal, his accent slightly more noticeable. You realise then, that he’s stopped what he’s doing. Goosebumps prickle over his skin and you think he’s cold, think that the slight breeze from the unlatched window in your living room is making him chilly.

A few weeks ago, whilst you were on your way home from work, you stopped to get something, something that at the time didn’t seem like such a big deal. It’s a practical gift, it’s nothing massively important or sentimental.

But it means something.

“Oh, no problem.” You answer, grabbing the next dish from the pile. “What time are you heading out?”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Jason grins, but you see the quick flash of uncertainty across his face. You find yourself wanting to soothe it as quickly as possible.

“Nah, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” Putting away the dried dishes and cutlery you press your hip into the counter. “Jus’ curious that's all. Do I have enough time to grab a shower?”

“Yeah.”

Suddenly leaning forwards Jason reaches out, and tenderly tucks a flyway strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, warm from the water lingers by your face, in a moment of weakness he cups your cheek and smooths his thumb across the skin under your eye.

“M’sorry for waking you up.” He whispers and you shake your head.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for, Jason.” There’s a firmness to your voice that doesn’t come out often. “I don’t mind one bit. I’d rather you come here than anywhere else.” Grabbing his wrist, you press your fingers against his pulse point, feeling the quick thud thud thud of his heartbeat. “I mean it, you don’t ever have to be sorry about coming here.”

Jason nods, and you watch as he swallows before letting his hand drop away.

Silently, you mourn the loss of his warmth.

**

Dressed in his Red Hood gear minus the helmet Jason waits by the window.

The latch remains undone, and you feel the chill of Gotham sweep through the apartment as soon as you open your bedroom door. Clenched tight in your hand is the thing you stopped for weeks ago. It’s sat in your bedside table for almost a week straight and every time you’ve thought about it you’ve tried to say it's not a big deal.

But it is a big deal.

Part of you wants to swallow it, maybe throw it away and forget you ever went out of your way to get it. But that other part, the soft part that brushes up against that quiet folded person beside your heart, protests the very thought of throwing it away.

Coming to a stop in front of him you fight to find your voice, “I’ve got something for you.” You start, and your voice shakes. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, okay?”

Jason does a funny thing then, he reaches for you, then yanks himself back.

“Okay.”

Unfurling your fist, you grip the object between your trembling fingers and hold it out.

A key for your apartment.

Jason studies your face intently and you notice that his hands are shaking slightly.

“Thought it would be easier for you than climbing through my window. M’not exactly on the ground floor.” You know your voice sounds unsure, a note of nervousness settling heavy like a stone on your tongue. “You don’t have to take it, okay? I just–”

Your words trail off. It feels like you’re prying open your ribs.

“I just want you to know that you can come here whenever you want, for however long you want.” You open your mouth to speak again but your throat closes up, you think you’re on the verge of crying. “This can–”

Jason looks into your eyes, his face is serious but his dark lashes are wet.

You swallow, “This can be your home too.”

He takes the key from your fingers and folds it tight into his fist, like he never wants to let it go. There’s a split second where everything is silent, it’s as if someone sucked the air from the room and left you in freefall. The next Jason is saying your name, his voice wet and shaking.

“I don’t–”

“It’s okay.” You smile softly when his voice breaks. “Hey. It’s okay, I promise.”

Stepping forwards you reach out with both hands and take his face between your palms. His skin is warm and you fight back the tears building along your lashes when Jason closes his eyes, and lets his tears spill down his cheeks and over your fingers.

“Oh sweetheart,” You breathe, “It’s okay.”

Thumbing them away you tip his head down and press a tender kiss to his forehead.

It’s not a big deal.

But it is.

**

[unrequitedloveletter]

omg hi i never realised i wasnt following you, i was wodering if you could do something with kaz brekker (romantic) /crows (plationic) where reader is mattias's sister and they met her and its really angsty like shes a new recruit for the fjerdian girl in the menengrie and inej sees her

and i love your writing so much!! you were the first kaz brekker fanfiction i ever read <3

Brandy- K.B x platonic! crows x matthias' sister! reader

First off, thank you so much for sending this in! I am so sorry it's taken me so long--I've been demotivated and only started getting into a kind of rhythm again recently!

On another note: the kaz brekker part of the fic is more implied to come later on than right as the fic takes place because the reader goes through a lot and having a romantic subplot just BOOM RIGHT THERE didn't feel right to me in the writing process

Fic type- this is some heavy angst that leads into hurt/comfort

Warnings- this one is a heavier fic--trafficking and rape are mentioned. The scenes wherein the reader is taken and put onto the slavers ship is depicted but not in too graphic detail (it's described as being knocked unconscious and blindfolded before being loaded onto a boat. The room that the reader ends up in isn't described in too heavy detail either, but there are mentions that the food the reader got came at random and their access to sunlight was restricted), theres a lot of discussion of death and a couple of mentions of strangulation--I've edited this but still might have missed a thing or two so feel free to tell me just in case.

You'd left Fjerda in search of your brother a solid eight months after he'd disappeared, when the letters you'd exchanged while he was in Druskelle training ceased and hadn't come in for that duration. You'd initially gone to the Druskelle--Jarl Brum, the Druskelle your brother had mentioned by name in the letters you'd exchanged. They'd all told you he'd been dead, but you didn't believe it.

So, you kept your ears open, and when you heard of a Fjerdan going to trial for involvement in the slave trade in Ketterdam, your instincts set you off on a boat to Ketterdam to find out if it was him, thinking that it could go two ways.

Either the first way, which was that it was Matthias and he'd been a shitty person for getting involved with the slave trade, or the second.

He was dead, the person on the slave trading charges was someone different, and you had lodgings in Ketterdam booked for a months stay before you headed back to your beloved country of ice and snow that would turn out to be pointless.

But you never did get to Ketterdam.

At least not on the boat you'd booked a ticket for. The night before you were to leave, the tavern you'd been drinking warmed brandy in was raided by slave traders. You were knocked unconscious, blind folded, and loaded onto a boat.

In the time thereafter, you spent no less than a week in a dodgy room, eating and drinking when your slavers deemed it a good enough time.

You were allowed sunlight only when you were taken to Tante Heleen, auctioned off to her and then forced by her to sign a contract in a language you hardly understood, as you'd barely been learning Kerch for six months by then. She'd grinned at you when you signed though she made it clear that you could not walk out of the room without doing so, and to even attempt it would result either in your death or her grabbing your hand and forcing you to sign the contract in a way that made the forcing seem much more obvious than it was.

As you were taken to the Menagerie, she'd grinned at you again. She'd asked where you were from, and when you told her that you were Fjerdan, her eyes had lit up.

"Oh, I've needed a new wolf! My men have been excellent to me this day, little wolf, and you shall reap the benefits!"

You got to the Menagerie and were given a tattoo on your wrist, silvery furs to wear and the natural color of your hair was tailored away in favor of a platinum blonde.

There were golden bars on the window of your room and each night, rather than sleeping, you looked through them. You watched the sun as it set and you watched the people blunder from one pleasure house to the next.

You cried whenever Heleen would introduce you to a client at first, but crying warranted a beating, so you stopped after the first month and a half. You took to crying when you were alone, thanking Heleen for every meal you got and hoping, hoping your indenture decreased by the minute.

But then, one night, as you were people watching, you caught sight of a girl on the roof of the building across from you. Your eyes widened as she met your gaze, pleading, desperate.

Get me out of here, you thought. Get me out. Please, get me out. Make this madness end.

Her gaze hardened and you thought you'd mistaken her for someone who could've sympathized with you, but then she rolled up her sleeve and you saw a patch of scarring. It looked almost like a botched tattoo removal, and as much made you confused.

But you didn't have time to question it. She was there one second, gone running and jumping across rooftops the next. You wondered if you'd ever see her again, hoped that you did. If the marks she'd showed you were any consolation, you had at least one person to rely on and that moment, a solid six or so months since you'd been taken to Ketterdam, even one person to rely on meant the world.

-

It had been two months since Inej had seen you that first time. Two months of plotting, planning, and it was all coming to a head that morning.

"Tante," Inej greeted on the first morning of autumn. "I am in need of one of the girls you keep here. She's Fjerdan."

"You walk into my enclosure," Tante said, gesturing at it all as she sat behind her desk. "Knowing that you, too, were once indentured here? I can have you indentured here again just as easily, my little lynx. What do you require of my little wolf?"

"If you try to kidnap me again, there is a sharpshooter ready to aim and fire at you within a split seconds notice," she said. "There is a very angry ex-Druskelle standing outside the front door, along with a heartrender, a bombs expert, and a someone so good at cards he can control any hand he wants. Let me see the girl or so help me, I will stab myself and make it seem from the sharpshooters perspective that you are doing it, and you will lose your life right here in this parlor, in front of all of your girls and all of the rapists that you call clientele."

At that, Tante showed a second of pause before turning to one of her men and nodding. "Unlock her door," she said. "Tell the little wolf that the lynx has come to visit. I can grant you fifteen minutes, Mrs. Ghafa."

Inej nodded. That was enough. It had to be enough.

Enough time for Tante to busy herself when Matthias came in posing as a client, for Nina and Kaz to sneak in through a back entrance and steal your indenture contract right from her desk, swap it with a contract that held both your signature and her own but had different wording, and make it back to the front, where the three of them were meant to be waiting while Wylan smoked a cigarette--a fake, one with chamomile and lavender in the filter--and tried his damndest to look casual.

She followed the man to your room, tried not to feel her heart break when she watched you flinch before she showed herself from behind his back.

Carefully, Inej slipped a knife out from her forearm--Sankta Alina--and pressed it against the mans back.

"You report that flinch to Tante and I will find you and cut you in two," she whispered. "You are actively participating in the trafficking of innocent girls. I understand that this is the Barrel, but I guarantee there are less vile crimes to commit. I would reccomend you find something better unless the last thing you fancy a sight of is my knife plunging into your chest."

The man gave a single nod and left the room, standing guard outside the door.

"Who are you?" You asked. "I wasn't informed anyone would be visiting, let alone the girl who's been watching me like a hawk since I hit the six month mark of being indentured here."

"My name is Inej Ghafa," she said. "I showed you the spot where my tattoo used to be--I was the Suli Lynx before Kaz bought out my indenture and I started working for the Dregs. I assume that your name is Y/N Helvar?"

"I have been Tante Heleens precious little wolf since I got here," you said. "I need to leave--I've been trying to figure out how, but I just can't figure it out for the life of me."

"Matthias is downstairs now, pretending to be a client very interested in owning a share of the business," Inej said. "Kaz and Nina are currently doing a grab and swap--they've managed to forge a contract and your signature based off of old job contracts you signed while in Fjerda. It'll hold up to scrutiny and at worst, look like Tante Heleen made a mistake. The contract they'll replace with the one they burn later will say that your indenture was set at a finite amount that's decreased rather than increasing since you were brought here."

"Has it not been?" You asked. "My Kerch wasn't great when I first got here--it's definitely gotten better since, I will say--but I thought that it had been decreasing. The decrease was what I'd been hinging my hope on."

"Tante writes them so that the cost of the indenture increases," Inej said. "You would've been stuck here--but our time is limited. I've only got fifteen minutes before I'm gone. Tante will call you down no less than ten after I've left, and you'll meet a guy who is all sharp edges and rough cuts--his name is Kaz Brekker, and he's someone you can trust, Y/N. I promise."

You stepped forward, hesitant, and Inej pulled you into a hug, using the hug as an excuse to tuck a knife into your furs.

"I understand hesitancy to kill," she said. "But if maiming, in the least, is necessary, I can pray to your Fjerdan saints with you later. We can ask that you get forgiveness for doing harm to those who have done worse to you."

"Did--did you say Matthias?" You asked. "I'm sorry--it's just that a lot has been thrown at me today. Matthias as in Helvar?"

"Yeah," Inej said, smiling at you as she puled away from the hug. You had tears in your eyes. "He's alive, Y/N, and he thought you were dead from the Ice Court heist onward, but he's relieved you aren't."

You wanted to cry, but of happiness or sadness, you didn't know.

Inej didn't say much of anything during the rest of her time, just sat with you on your bed, your hands locked together, until her time was up and the man who stood guard outside your door knocked to let you know that your time with her was done.

She left with tears in her eyes, remembering a time where she looked and felt just as helpless as you did.

-

Fifteen minutes later, you were being called down to the parlor. You followed a guard down the stairs, and when you caught sight of the person Inej had described--all sharp edges, rough cuts--you forced yourself to meet his gaze briefly. He was the one shot you had at getting out. His plan had to have worked or you would've died while stuck working as a slave to Heleen.

Next to him stood Matthias.

"Do you know this person?" Tante asked, gesturing to the one beside whom your brother stood.

"I do," you said, hoping that the lie was convincing enough. "I do know him."

"And do you know his business partner?" Tante asked. You glanced at your brother. He had murder in his gaze, and he kept it focused on the woman who'd been holding you in the hostage that was your indenture.

"Yes," you said. "His name is Matthias Helvar. His associate is called Kaz Brekker."

"See?" Kaz asked. "Old friends, she and I, and if I am to remember it correctly, she told me that you told her her indenture would be out with the start of fall. Today is the first day of the season."

"Her contract says otherwise," Tante said. "And I said no such things to her--Y/N, did I?"

"You did," you said, hopefully going along with the plan that was in place. "You said I'd only be here for eight months. It has been eight months, Tante."

"Must've been an error," she said, glaring at you. You stepped back in your fear and like the protective brother he tended to be, Matthias stepped forward.

Kaz glared at him as Tante pulled your contract from her desk.

"Does the contract say as we claim?" Matthias asked. "Y/Ns signature should be on it. As should yours."

Tante glowered at Kaz. "Whatever you've done, this fake will not hold up to close scrutiny."

At that, Kaz shrugged. "I've not done a bloody thing, Ms. Heleen. Perhaps you were drunk in the contract writeup, decided to take pity on one of your girls?"

"I was sober as a cow," she said. "But--fine. You win for now."

"You will give Y/N to us immediately," Matthias said. Kaz nodded, affirming the words.

"She is to be under the protection of the Dregs," Kaz said. "Any attempt on her life is as good as an attempt on mine, and I will make you pay for it. It will cost you more than all of the indentures of the girls here combined, Ms. Heleen."

"Fine," she said. "Take my little wolf away from me."

You stepped toward Matthias.

"You have a good day, Tante," Kaz said. The three of you made a beeline for the exit, and Inej gave you her hand. She let you lean on her in the walk from the Menagerie to the Slat, where Nina gave you clothes to change into and toiletries to shower.

You showered, washed eight months of grime and dirt and the general feeling of disgust off of yourself in the forty five minutes it took to get most of it. The feeling of disgust, the extreme disdain, the pain that you carried, were things that you were sure could not be washed away with a simple shower.

The outfitting you'd been given had been a dress that was flowy and did not adhere to every part of your body. It was black and stopped just a bit above your ankles. There was a dip in the neckline but nothing that would have anybody looking, and sleeves that stopped at your elbows.

Along with it, you were given an old cardigan, a pair of appropriate socks, and brand new combat boots, good for giving anyone a kick where it hurt the most if need be.

You headed to the bottom floor of the Slat, thanked Nina as you found her amidst the chaos and decided to lean against a wall rather than sitting down.

Matthias brought you a glass of brandy, and that was all it took.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

You took a sip of the brandy. "It's not your fault," you said. "I was going to come to Ketterdam to look for you--I couldn't believe you'd died--and the tavern I was in the night before I left was overtaken. I was put on a slavers ship and sold to Tante. None of that is on you, Matthias."

"You came looking for me," he said. "So, therefore, it's my fault."

"No," you said. "It's not. It's the fault of the slavers, the captain and crew of that boat, and Tante Heleen. You and I are blameless."

"But--"

"I was trafficked, Matthias," you said. "I was sold to a woman who indentured me to servitude. I was raped. None of that is your burden to bear, and if you start bearing it I will cut off one of your fingers."

You took a sip of your brandy.

As much as you loved your brother, you knew that a meaningful conversation was not likely to start until you both had time to think. Matthias was at the stage of it wherein he blamed himself. You had long grown past that, and the shame you felt because of it had transformed in two different cycles--first, desperation to get out of the Menagerie, and second, anger at Tante Heleen and those involved with your capture and sale.

"Matthias, dear," the one called Nina called out to him. "Wylan thinks that an espresso martini is better than bourbon. Discuss."

You shot her a grateful look. She nodded at you and for a moment you almost thought she understood.

"I've gotten into contact with a tailor," Kaz said. You took a sip of your brandy. "Inejs removal was botched, but Matthias forked over the kruge if you want it removed."

"You said that I am to be under the protection of the Dregs," you said. "A gang, as is obvious now, but what does that protection mean, in no uncertain terms?"

"It means exactly what it says on the tin. You are protected by us, Y/N. I can't promise you safety, nor happiness or health in the Barrel, but I can at least promise you that. Inej already seems like she'd fight tooth and nail to keep you alive, and she is the best ally you can have in these parts."

"Might it also mean a job?" You asked. "I have nothing, Kaz. People home probably think I'm dead. I wanted a fresh start terribly when I was in Fjerda, so this might just be my best bet."

Kaz nodded. "Your first shift at the Crow Club is in two days time, and a room in the Slat is free. I'll have the current bartender teach you how to make a couple of decent drinks, and provided I see any other ways in which you might prove to be an asset, you'll join us on the jobs that make us rich. You don't need to take up the crow and cup if you don't want to--I am sure you've had enough of tattoos for a lifetime."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"You could still die," Kaz said. "Your death was a likely thing in the Menagerie--I saw one Karl Van Houden on your list of clients? He killed two of the girls in other brothels city wide--and it's just as likely outside of it."

"If I die in these streets, I am dying with my dignity," you said. "In the Menagerie, I would've died without it, strangled by a client who hated the fact that I was crying. Dying with your dignity intact, you'll find, makes a world of difference."

Kaz shrugged. "I will be taking your word for it," he said.

You shook your head as he walked away, grinned at Inej as you noticed her approaching.

"How are you doing?"

"I've been worse," you said with a shrug. "I've been without brandy and good music. Definitely worse."

Inej grinned, took your free hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "Does it hurt?" She asked. "The pain of accepting all of it. Are you okay?"

"It burns in my chest when I think about it too long," you said. "I just--I think about Heleen and I want to set the Menagerie on fire. I hate it. I hate her. I don't know how to deal with this."

"And you won't figure out the right way for a bit," Inej said. "It varies for everyone. You just come to a point where--you accept that what happened happened, that sometimes, good people are subjected to terrible things and the people who subjected them to those things just go on living in places like this one. It does get easier with time, though you never feel like it will."

"Thank you," you said. "For rescuing me. For giving me council as you have."

Inej shook her head. "I've been trying to convince Kaz to let you onto the team since we first made eye contact," she said. "It wasn't an easy feat until Matthias, Nina, Jesper and Wylan backed me up without knowing any of the real details, and even then, it still took a bit more convincing. Kaz is very selective with the people he lets onto the team, but you'll be a good asset."

"Thank you," you said again. "Seriously. I would've died within those walls, Inej. Thank you for saving me from that."

She walked away, and you glanced at your nearly empty glass of brandy, heading to the bar to get yourself another.

You had your entire future ahead, and you didn't want to think another minute of Tante Heleen, but you did.

You decided you'd get your revenge on her someday, even if it was just a miniscule form of such.

[synnamonroll666]

Wicked Temptation

Pairing: Josh Washington x Fem!Reader Description: You decided to stay in the shed with Josh until dawn, letting Chris and Mike go back to the lodge for some much needed rest. But Josh knows a little secret that you've been hiding for a couple years and unfortunately for you, Josh has no mercy to spare tonight... Warnings: Mutual Pining, Mild Violence, Thigh Riding, Grinding, Edging, Humiliation, Degradation, Strip Tease, BlowJob (Male And Female Receiving), Cock Warming, Teasing, P In V, Creampie, Switch!Josh, Switch!Reader, Bondage??? Shibari??? I Don't Know, I Just Went All Out With This One. 😅 Word Count: 10k!!!!! A/N: This is not only my very first Josh Washington smut fic, but it's also the first time I've ever written a fic 10k words long! I've been working on this since January and let me tell you, it's been a struggle to finish it. It started out as some 2k idea but then I decided, since I was changing fandoms, I might as well go big for my first smut fic for Josh. I've put a lot of work into it between editing it dozens of times and watching that shed scene probably billions of times to get the lines correct. Since I have taken so long to write it and put so much effort into it, it's kind of like my baby now and I'm so excited to share it with all of you. As some of you know, I've been going through quite a lot of shit lately but focusing on this has helped me greatly, and that's another reason why this fic means so much to me. So here's to new beginning, because there will definitely be more of this good stuff to come in the future too! Enjoy! 🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

I followed closely behind Chris and Mike, who had their hands full with a very uncooperative Josh. It had been one hell of a night. First I got chased around by some demented psychopath, then I found a video of my crush of five years being sawed in two; and then I found out that he was actually the psycho all along and he possibly killed one of my close friends, Jessica. I was exhausted, but at least the deadly grip of the cold mountain air around my frame did help to wake me up a bit. I could only think positively at this point. It was the only way to stay sane.

But unfortunately, that did not last long as my thoughts continued to wander down a darker path. It was as if I wasn't even there at all. I had transitioned from reality and found myself trapped within my own racing mind, desperately looking for answers to clarify just what happened on this horrific night. But after a few minutes, Josh yelling in pain brought me out of my dark thoughts.

"Come on, guys…" He whined as his eyes pleaded to us with a look of remorse and guilt. "Seriously — this is crazy, you know?"

"Shut up." Mike spat sternly as he pushed him along the snowy path. It would have looked so beautiful if this was just a late night walk in the woods.

But this wasn't just some late night walk…

Did I feel good about what we were doing? No. But was it necessary? Yes.

I always knew that Josh had some mental health issues since his sisters went missing — I mean, who wouldn't become some level of fucked up from that happening to two people you love. But this — this was something different, and I was beginning to feel very concerned for Josh and our safety.

But as sympathetic as I was towards Josh regarding that situation, it still didn't take away the sting of what he did tonight; especially since me, Chris and Sam had nothing to do with the events that occurred one year ago.

Still — despite the judgmental glares he was given — Josh wasn't going to give up on trying to convince us to free him.

"Chris… Bro…" Josh's eyes met Chris' as he begged for him to have some sort of mercy. After all, they had been best friends since children. But to his surprise, Chris looked away.

"I'm not your bro." Chris spoke lowly in a disappointed tone. And at that moment, I saw Josh's heart break through his eyes. He looked so lost and saddened by Chris' words that it made me want to cry.

Without warning, Mike grabbed Josh's forearm and began pushing him further down the path again, despite Josh digging his heels in the snow to stop him. Josh was a lot bigger than Mike and a lot taller, too. But in this case, Mike's strength won. I figured Josh was weakened due to the blow he took to the head when Mike pistol whipped him.

"Where are we going?" Josh asked — his voice now frantic and full of worry. I could see that he was beginning to panic. "Where are you guys taking me?"

"Locking you up, bro!" Mike revealed as he pushed Josh onto the ground. I wanted to help him back up, since he was tied up and couldn't just simply push himself back to his feet. But I had to hold back; it probably wasn't safe to go near him anyway…

"What?!" Josh shrieked as he struggled to get back up, succeeding after a very weak attempt.

"So you can't do anything stupid before we call the police in the morning."

I couldn't help but agree with Mike's words. It hurt to do, but he was right. Josh was so unpredictable right now, so it was better for all of our safety and Josh's as well, that he got locked up for the rest of the night.

"Come on!" He cried out in another desperate attempt to convince us that he's just an innocent victim in all this. "I didn't do anything—"

"Are you serious, bro?" Despite the dramatic and stressful situation, I literally had to hold back laughter as I remembered Chris declaring only seconds ago that he was no longer his 'bro'.

But that moment was short-lived when Mike piped in…

"You're a God damn murderer is what you are!" He raised his voice as he pushed Josh down once again, his stance becoming dominant and intimidating as he towered over Josh.

I didn't agree with him there. I just couldn't see Josh going as far as killing Jessica. And when Mike told us what had happened — it didn't make sense nor did anything add up. Though I disagreed, I chose to stay silent, not wanting any more fights to occur.

"I didn't do it!" Josh cried as he stood up again. His sorrowful eyes burrowed into Mike's, hoping that he would believe him. "Michael, please! Just listen to me, man! I did not hurt Jessica—"

"Are you insane?!" Chris yelled unexpectedly, surprising us all since he had been fairly quiet for a little while now. "Like really? Do you not understand what you've done?!"

"I'm a healer, man! I bring people together!" Josh's voice began to rise with each word he said, clearly getting frustrated by this whole situation as well. I couldn't blame him… "Not like you assholes!"

His last sentence… It hurt my heart. I had been there for him — I was the one who was there. It made me clench my teeth along with my fists to resist the urge to do something I may have regretted later on.

"That's enough!" Mike finally put his foot down, having enough of Josh's bullshit. But just when I thought it was over — just when I thought that Josh would shut up and we would just get this shit over with, he began to approach me…

"(Y/N)…" He whimpered like a hurt puppy, his sad eyes didn't help either. "Please… You know I wouldn't harm any of you…"

"Josh…" I whined, my voice breaking before I could say anything else. He was only inches away from me now — his face so damn close to mine that I could feel his shaky breath on my cold-bitten skin. Any other day, the warmth would have felt nice on such a cold night. He lowered his head so his mouth was right by my ear.

"Please," he whispered softly. "You know me…"

"That's it!" Merely two seconds after Mike's enraged voice was heard, he was pulling Josh away from me as he begged and cried for my forgiveness. I felt a couple of tears escape my eyes and slowly fall down my cheek, so all I did was look away to hide my pain.

It had only been a peaceful snowfall when we arrived — peaceful like how the night began. But now it was colder, more hectic; a storm much like the one that had erupted during the events of the night. Nothing was peaceful anymore, and I was beginning to wonder if it ever would be again.

"You only see what you wanna see! You're blind!" Josh's rant brought me out of my thoughts again to see Mike pinning Josh face down on the ground. I tried to step in — worried that one of them would get hurt — but Chris put his arm in front of me to stop me from interfering. I knew he was only looking out for me, but it frustrated me greatly.

"Stop talking!" Mike ordered angrily.

"You are— Argh—" Josh struggled to speak as he continued writhing against Mike's hold — but once again, Mike's strength overpowered him.

"Dude!" Chris yelled at Mike, since he was now going too far with his little intimidation tactics. I was glad that at least Chris decided to step in, since he wouldn't allow me to.

"It's not my fault you suckers can't take a joke!" Josh spat bitterly at the three of us and I clenched my fists again until there were angry crescents engraved in my palms, resisting the urge to take advantage of him being pinned on the ground.

"Oh, oh, wait — did I hurt you?" Mike asked when Josh grunted out in pain. Something told me that he didn't care about Josh's well-being though. "Did you just feel a little — little bit of pain right now? I am so, so sorry!"

Mike began pushing Josh's arms into his lower back, causing him to yell out in agony. "Stop it!"

"Mike, please — don't!" I cried out, not wanting any more people to get hurt. I couldn't take it.

"Jesus, dude!" Chris said in disapproval of Mike's actions while Josh continued to yell, "Stop!"

Luckily, Mike listened and lifted Josh back up to his knees.

"Michael… I'm sorry, man…" There was something so genuine in Josh's voice as he spoke — something that only convinced me further that Josh didn't do it… He didn't kill Jessica… "I can't tell you how sorry I am that something happened to Jessica but I swear — I swear to you that I have no idea what happened to her!"

"Shit… Mike, this…" Chris muttered lowly — a look of uncertainty clear on his face as he furrowed his brows."I dunno… Something feels really wrong here, man…"

"Are you joking?" Mike turned around. He looked shocked and… Angry at Chris?

"I–I'm just having a really hard time figuring out that he would — like — do anything to hurt Jess…" Chris explained in a calm manner, despite the look of distress his face held. He clearly didn't want to upset Mike but I knew he felt that this was important enough to bring up.

"Mike…" I spoke up, approaching him slowly. "Did you actually see him murder her? How did he butcher her like you said and drag her away at a speed that you couldn't catch up on at the same time?"

"I saw what he did to her with my own eyes! This—" Mike gestured to his jacket, which was stained with blood. "This is her blood!"

"It just… Something doesn't add up…" I muttered as I backed away slowly.

"Can't we all just get along?" Josh giggled and his change in attitude — his sudden lack of sympathy shocked me. Mike began pulling him to his feet and he winced in pain. "Ow! Dammit!"

"We are not dicking around!" Mike growled in his ear — his tone threatening and harsh.

"This is not right… Nope…" Josh muttered as his brows furrowed together — a sudden disappointment darkening his once sorry eyes. "This is not how it's supposed to go down! You are just a bunch of bullies!"

We all chose to ignore his insults as Mike continued to push him closer to the shed door. My patience was wearing thin and I was honestly getting more and more sick of Josh's shit. And the way he had just reacted to Mike's accusations… It was leading me down another path — the path that told me Josh was guilty…

"You can't just hang out a guy to dry like this, guys… Huh?" He continued to ramble on, putting on what seemed to be a fake, wounded animal act again. "Not like… Not like you got the guts to do anything about it anyway!"

Mike snapped again and pushed him onto the ground once more, only this time a blanket of snow wasn't there to break his fall, since we were now in the shed.

"Oh, stuff it! You're the biggest coward there is!" Chris snarled at Josh, his brows knitted together due to frustration and resentment towards his best — ex-best friend.

"Uh huh?" Josh scoffed. "I did something! I made you believe in the world I created and showed you parts of yourself that you were too afraid to visit!

I couldn't help but shake my head at Josh's gloating while I wondered what had happened to that remorseful, empathetic guy that was here only moments ago.

"You manipulated us, you tricked us, you hurt your friends and you did it all while you hid in the shadows! You're a coward, Josh! That's all you are!" Chris yelled, showing that he officially had enough of Josh's crap. And by that point, I was sure that we all had.

Mike grabbed Josh again, pulled him up and dragged him further into the shed. Once my eyes landed on the stool that was sitting in front of a beam, I knew what was coming. Mike and Chris forced Josh down onto the stool and began unting his hands to retie them around the beam instead. They both told me to stay back but it was hard to do so once they began to hold Josh down and he became erratic as a result.

"Ok, tying me up now! Ok!" Josh acknowledged what they were doing as if he was accepting it, but his body language told me otherwise as he continued to thrash and writhe against his restraints.

"Stay still, man!" Mike demanded as both he and Chris struggled to hold him down and tie his hands back up.

"Right, right, right, right… Still…" Josh parroted and for a brief moment, I thought he was finally going to cooperate…

Man, was I wrong…

"Well, c–can't tie 'em up if they just wiggle around!" Josh shouted as he began squirming around like a child who refused to stay still during time-out.

"Josh, come on!" Chris snarled as he fought Josh to stay still long enough for them to wrap the ropes around his wrists.

"Leave me a little wiggle room, huh?!" Josh continued to squirm as he began to giggle like an immature, defiant little brat. I am ashamed to admit it, but it was painfully hard repressing a giggle of my own at that moment.

"What will it take to shut you up?!" Mike yelled, clearly getting more and more annoyed by the second.

"Ow! Not so tight, ok?! Not so tight, ok…" Josh whined as he winced in pain. Although I doubted that the pain was as severe as he let on.

Then Josh started rambling about plastic ties or something and I zoned out, wondering what was really wrong with him. He clearly wasn't his self anymore and he seemed very, very unhinged at the moment. And then I remembered when Chris said that he was off his meds… He must have been a lot more sick than I thought, and for a lot longer too.

"What… In God's name is he talking about?" Mike muttered to Chris, who was looking as equally confused as both of us.

Chris brought his hand up to his face to rub the bridge of his nose while letting out a stressed sigh. "This is hard to watch…"

"He ever say this kind of shit before?"

"No, I've never seen him like this."

"Maybe he needs some help?" I suggested while glancing over at Josh out of the corner of my eye. "Like, help from a professional."

"Everybody's stupid… Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…" Josh muttered under his breath, moving on from the plastic tie rant and catching all of our attention. "Chris and Ash… Chris is an ass. Ashley's a dumb-dumb!"

"I'm sorry, what did you say?!" Chris raised his voice slightly as the features of his face contorted with anger. He stepped closer to Josh, who had an obnoxious smirk plastered on his bruised face.

"Well, I said you're a dummy, dummy!" Josh laughed and the mocking sound made Chris' fingers curl into fists.

"What is wrong with you?" Chris asked, clenching his fists so tight that the skin on his knuckles turned pale. I wanted to step in, but just as I took a step forward to insert myself between the two, Mike looked in my direction and shook his head.

"Oh, Ashley… Oh…" Josh sighed as his voice trailed off into a breathless whisper as if he began to zone out. But unfortunately, that didn't last long. "Oh, I never imagined in my wildest dreams that you liked me!" He teased in a mocking tone as his smirk broadened with pride in the way he was taunting his friend.

"Stop." Chris warned and Josh started to make obnoxious kissing noises at Chris.

"Do you know what that sound is? It's the sound of never kissing Ashley, you pussy!"

"Stop!" Chris warned again, rasing his voice louder than before.

"Yeah, you know? Maybe you should let Mike sleep with Jess! I mean, at least he's got some notches in his belt! He'll treat! Her! Right!" With each word in his last sentence, he thrusted his hips in the air as if he was trying to fuck it. I couldn't peel my eyes away. My mind began to wonder what it would feel like if he was thrusting into me that way — how his cock would feel slamming into me at that angle.

"You're fucking pathetic, Christopher!" Josh yelled, knocking me out of my little fantasy.

"I'm going to beat his fucking head in!" Chris growled while winding back the wooden plank he was holding, as if he was actually going to do it.

"Chris! No!" I yelled without even giving it a thought, worried that he was serious.

"Don't listen to him! Not worth it!" Mike said as he put his hand up to get Chris' attention. Chris looked at Mike and then me before slowly lowering the plank, looking pretty embarrassed by his outburst.

"You know what, Josh?" Chris' voice lowered a couple octaves as he spoke — his eyes growing dark with resentment as he did so. He let the plank slip from his fingers to hit the floor with an ear piercing thud. "I'm not keeping your little secret anymore. You are the one who's pathetic!"

Me and Mike glanced at each other in confusion, neither of us having a single idea what Chris was talking about. Though we both instantly noticed the way Josh narrowed his eyes at Chris, growing cold with anger and what seemed like a bit of fear.

He muttered one word — his voice so low that we could barely hear him, "Don't."

"No, no — I think I will!" Chris began to yell again — his frustration clearly exploding into pure anger as he spoke. "How can you sit there and talk about me and Ash, when you've been sitting on your ass and pining away for (Y/N) for the last two fucking years?!"

My mouth fell open after receiving this new information. My heart began to race, picking up speed so fast that I thought I would drop dead of a fucking heart attack. I replayed the words in my head a few times, trying to decide whether or not I heard Chris right or if it was actually real. I couldn't believe it — I just couldn't.

"Don't!" Josh's voice began to sound more like a feral growl than anything, shooting daggers at Chris with his eyes. The air became thick with tension fast and it became all too awkward just standing there, especially since I was the reason for this new argument that had sprouted between the two boys.

"No! You started this, so now I'm going to fucking finish it!"

Chris stepped forwards towards Josh in an aggressive manner, almost seeming as if he was going to punch him. I didn't necessarily think he would and I knew Mike didn't either, but just as a precaution, Mike stepped towards Chris and put his arm in front of him to block him. Chris looked at Mike, his eyes seemed filled with pain due to how the night had carried out. Mike gave him a sympathetic look and stepped back, once Chris seemed a bit more calm. But then Josh let out another obnoxious laugh.

"Hey, Mike!" Josh spoke up but we all stayed silent due to fear of what he might say next. "Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike!"

"What?!" Mike growled impatiently as his head snapped in Josh's direction to give him the most brutal glare.

"What happened with Jess, Mike?"

"You know what happened."

"No. No, I–I don't." Josh stammered awkwardly — the tone of his voice and the stutter adding just a little bit more of doubt within me, though I didn't want to admit it to myself or the others. "I've got a problem, Mike. I don't remember killing Jess."

"Chirst…" Mike muttered in frustration. I could tell that he was trying not to snap and I felt so bad for him.

"I mean — like — I feel like I would remember killing her, you know? She's so soft and she's probably got, like, a really tight bod—" He flashed a smirk and for a moment, I felt a bit — no — a lot of jealousy surging through my veins due to his filthy words about my deceased friend. I went to say something — anything to get him to shut up but Mike beat me to it.

"Shut your fucking mouth!" He roared as he pointed his gun right at Josh's head. Josh's mouth fell agape in shock as he stared down the barrel of the gun, quiet for the first time in awhile. Panic ran through me as I subconsciously grabbed Mike's arm to stop him but he pushed me back with his free hand before placing it back on the gun with the other, holding the firearm in a death grip.

To my surprise and Mike's as well, Chris swung the plank he was holding down and hit Mike in the arms, forcing him to drop the gun as he let out a yell in pain and shock.

"Seriously?" Mike grunted as he straightened back up, narrowing his eyes at a very confused Chris.

"W–What?" Chris seemed surprised by Mike's reaction, which was odd to me, because who wouldn't be pissed off at somebody for doing that?

"Did you think I was going to shoot him?" Mike questioned him and I chose to stay silent although my mind was screaming 'yes'.

"I–I dunno…" Chris stammered as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. I could tell he was starting to feel dumb due to his actions.

"Come on, Chris! You know me better than that!" Mike scolded him. I wanted to step in — to tell Mike that it was just a mistake. But before I could say anything to make the situation better, Josh had to open his big mouth again.

"Yeah, Chris! You know me better than that!" He mocked with laughter heavy in his voice. I turned and gave him a glare that clearly said 'shut the fuck up' before turning back to the conversation.

"Ah… Yeah… Well, next time, just give me a heads up, alright?" Chris asked and I could tell that he was still a bit startled by what happened. I understood where he was coming from — he just didn't want to see his friend get hurt.

"Oh, you poor little piggies! You can't even get your 'good cop, bad cop' routine to work! Leave it to the pros, bros!"

At that moment, I had enough. I no longer found Josh funny — he was getting on my nerves and I was tired of everything. I turned to the smug bastard and didn't even think twice about what I was about to say.

"Oh, shut up!" I snapped, clearly surprising everyone in the room, including myself. Josh's eyes widened as his mouth fell ajar. But not only five seconds later, his eyes narrowed with mischief and his lips turned up into another smirk.

"Oh, really?! You really, really want me to? A–And what about you, (Y/N)? Huh?" I felt a chill go down my spine as he said my name, knowing that this wasn't going to end well. "A little bit of advice: You should probably keep a lock on your diary."

I froze completely still as if I was paralyzed from fear and embarrassment. I remembered each dirty thought about Josh that I had written in that diary and I winced.

"W–What?" Was the only word I could speak out of disbelief.

"Fuck, with that many pages, you could publish a God damn porn novel!" He laughed and I cringed even more, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of eternal embarrassment with each word he said. "Or is it a movie you want to make?"

He wiggled his brows as he licked his lower lip, eyes darkening as they traveled up and down my form for a brief moment. Luckily, Chris noticed how tense I was and decided to step in.

"O–Ok, that's enough!" He shouted at Josh and he responded with a sly smirk.

"What? She wants it! Just read the dozens of dirty thoughts she had written in her little book. Fuck, I should be getting paid for how much she used me in her naughty little stories!"

"Josh, shut the fuck up!" Mike's voice came out like a roar as he stepped closer towards the bound man in an attempt to intimate him.

"And I saw your needy eyes oogling my junk as I humped the air! Don't pretend, (Y/N)! Don't deny what you're dying for!"

"Alright, everybody shut up!" Mike screamed so loud that it almost didn't sound like him. We all froze in shock, since we had never seen him this angry before — not even after every time him and Emily would fight. "Chris, (Y/N), you guys go back to the lodge and make sure everything's alright. I'll stay here with this lunatic until the morning."

The first thought in my head was to protest. Not only was I worried about leaving Josh alone with Mike for Josh's safety against Mike's anger, but I was also worried about what Josh would say about me to Mike. I wondered just how much of my diary he had read and winced again when I thought about the dirty things I had written. I opened my mouth to reject Mike's plan but instantly got cut off.

"Oooo, sleepover!" Josh piped in before I could say a thing to Mike — a childish grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "C–Can we order pizz–ah?"

Me, Chris and Mike all let out an audible sigh and I resisted the urge to smack the smile right off Josh's face. Chris grabbed my arm and lightly tugged me in the direction of the exit, but I pulled away, leaving Chris cocking his head and arching his brow in confusion.

"Listen — you go back to the lodge with Chris. I'll stay here with him." I offered as I approached Mike and he narrowed his eyes at me, seemingly equally as confused as Chris was.

"No. I can handle Josh. It's fine." Mike spoke calmly yet his eyes still told me that he was wary of my offer.

"Mike, you've had a rough night and Josh will just antagonize you until dawn if you stay. You deserve to rest." I placed my hand on his shoulder while looking into his eyes to show my sincerity. "I can handle Josh for the rest of the night. It's no big deal."

He raised a brow while chewing on the inside of his cheek, contemplating my offer. Finally, after an awkward moment of silence, Mike sighed and nodded his head in agreement.

"Alright. We'll be back first thing in the morning, ok?" He said and I nodded as I let go of his shoulder.

"Ooooooo, a sleepover with (Y/N)! That's even better than with Mr. Grumpy Face! Fuck pizza! Let's skip it and go straight to the pillow fight in our underwear!" My jaw dropped as my attention snapped over to Josh, who was wearing a big smirk — so proud of what he had just said. I couldn't see Chris and Mike's faces, since my eyes were too busy trying to kill Josh with a death stare — but due to the awkward silence that instantly filled the room, I could imagine that they held expressions similar to my own.

"Are you sure?" I heard Mike whisper over my shoulder. I slowly turned to face him but my eyes stayed glued to the floor, being too embarrassed to look anybody in the eyes at this moment.

"Yes, Mike. It's ok." I sighed as I brought my hand up to my face to massage the bridge of my nose.

"Here," to my surprise, Mike handed me his gun, cocking it as he did so. "Just in case."

"I don't think I'll need it but thank you." I said and he nodded at me before giving Josh a 'be good' glare, then turning his heel and heading towards the exit of the shed.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." Chris smiled at me awkwardly and then followed Mike to the door.

"Goodnight, guys." I called out as I sat down on a nearby stool, turning my attention to the man bound before me. This was going to be a long night…

"Alright, you squirrely little fuck. It's just you and me." I uttered while glancing at Josh out of the corner of my eye, feeling rather frustrated with the way he was behaving and quite obviously embarrassed by the words he had just spat out at me in front of my friends. A few minutes of unexpected silence had passed which had surprised me greatly. Unfortunately, that silence didn't last.

"(Y/N)?" Josh spoke shyly and I instantly winced at the sound of his suspiciously calm voice.

"What?" I growled as I glared at him through narrowed eyes.

"I want pizza!" Josh whined like a bratty child. Though his voice was laced with a child-like innocence, I could see the evil mischief in his green eyes — now appearing grey under the dim light of the room.

"Oh, not this again!" I muttered as I rubbed my hands down my face, feeling so tired already of babysitting this little brat. But I had to protect what little privacy I had left and to keep the boys from fighting again. I just had to be smart with this. I looked away, hoping that if I ignored it, it would eventually shut up. But I was greatly wrong.

"Please, please please please, please, please, please, pleeeeeeeeeease!" He continued to beg until I finally had enough.

"Fine!" I snapped as I took my phone out of my pocket.

"Yay!" Josh cheered excitedly as his eyes lit up and his lips parted to make a toothy grin.

I walked into the middle of the room and set my phone down in the middle of the floor before walking back to my stool and sitting back down. Josh stared at my phone a moment and then turned his head to look at me, confused by what I had just done.

"Go ahead — order your pizza." I said with a cocky smirk growing on my face.

"W–What?" He yelped in shock, which made me feel quite satisfied.

"Aww, what's the matter? You can't? Well, I guess you're not getting your pizza then!" I teased him in a whiny baby voice as I stuck my lower lip out to pout.

"What?! Why?!" He shrieked at my mockery and I just chuckled darkly.

"Well — first off, the pizza guy can't get here because they don't deliver this far — genius. And second, consider it payback for all the shit you put us through tonight!" I subconsciously raised my voice at the man–child before me and he only responded with a roll of his eyes and a scoff as if I was the one in the wrong.

"Oh, for fuck sakes, (Y/N)! It was just a prank!" He sneered and I scoffed at his remark, feeling shocked and angered that he had the audacity to say such a thing. "And I didn't even want the damn pizza! I was just trying to piss you off."

"Oh, was it?! Well, I don't think it was very funny! First, you put on a show of you getting sawed in half for me, Chris and Ashley to get traumatized from; and then you chase me around the lodge while pretending to be some stupid movie serial killer?!" I vented out my rant, feeling my body heat up with rage as I did so. I didn't even notice how hard I clenched my fists, cutting angry crescents into my palms as my knuckles turned white.

I chose to ignore his confession about the pizza, since I knew this. He knew that I couldn't get one for him at the moment, so there was no other reason for him to ask. But I decided not to say anything about the matter, because I was too pissed off about what he had said prior to the confession.

"Come on! You have to admit that was pretty epic!" He gloated with a laugh with a look on his face as if he was remembering the events of the night, all crafted by his hand.

"Oh, fuck off!" I growled through gritted teeth, growing pretty close to punching him right in the face.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't expect you to react the way you did. And here I thought your feelings were only sexual." He said with the same smug smirk plastered on his face. But something had changed; there was a sudden hint of softness laced within his eyes and voice — something he was trying to mask by his cockiness but slowly began to break through the cracks only a tiny bit, just enough for me to see it.

I shuddered as the memory replayed itself in my mind. There I stood, helpless and screaming while banging on a cage-like door, begging for mercy on my two friends. I couldn't choose, so Chris had to make the decision — a decision that ended with me weeping on Chris' chest over the loss of a love I never got the chance to have, while the man I wished to experience it with screamed in pure agony as his body got torn in half — or so I thought it did.

I turned my head away without saying another word, mostly because I could not trust my voice enough to actually speak. I stared at the door as if I actually took an interest in it, just to avoid eye contact with the man. Of all the ways he had to find out about my feelings for him, it had to be this way; I was so mad and embarrassed.

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

Some time had passed and the temperature had only seemed to drop lower and — despite my anger and embarrassment heating me up — it didn't stop the feeling of a thousand little needles poking into me all over my body as the harsh cold embraced me. Things had been completely silent, which I appreciated because I knew that I would not be able to speak without my teeth chattering. And I knew that Josh would only mock me for that. I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging my torso tightly in an attempt to warm myself and stop myself from shivering before Josh took notice.

"Cold?" I heard him finally speak up.

'Shit!' I cursed in my head. 'So much for trying to warm up before he noticed.'

"Y–Yeah…" I mumbled, still not daring to look at Josh after the things he had said. Lord knows my face was probably as red as a rose.

"Well, why don't you come over here and warm yourself up on my lap?" My eyes widened at his words and I scowled at the tone of his voice; I could practically hear his smirk in it.

"Oh, God—"

"I want him to be the reason I feel warm in the winter. I want to melt into his arms as he makes love to me and make the harsh winter feel like a beautiful summer." I froze as my eyes widened in terror when I recognized those words from my diary. "What? I–I'm just goin' by the book!"

"Just— How much of my diary did you read?" I asked, afraid of the answer.

"Hmmm… Well, I started at a couple months ago and ended at: 'And then Josh bent down to place a gentle kiss on my clit before dragging his soft tongue between my folds.'"

'Shit! He read about my dream last night!' My heart began to race with humiliation and the regret of asking my question as he recited every word from my diary, dragging out and exaggerating every word like he was a porn star.

"And I kept calling out his name. 'Oooh, Josh! Harder! More! Dominate me! Oooh, Daddy!'" I jumped up from my seat as he moaned out those words, shocked and appalled by his lies and behavior.

"I did not write that!" I screeched in anger as my body heated up with rage, making it easy to forget about the painful cold.

"Oh, admit it, little kitty! Those words might not be down in your little book, but you and me both know damn well that that's what you hear in your head." He snapped back and I stood in silence. I couldn't deny it because he was right. Suddenly, a wicked idea popped into my head as my lips twisted into a mischievous grin.

"Why so creative with it, Josh? Maybe instead of those words being in my head, those are the words that are in your head!" I accused as I pointed a finger at him.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, baby." He scoffed while rolling his eyes. "Why don't you just be honest with yourself, honey? You want to ride the Josh express and be taken to the bone zone! Just admit it! Come on, (Y/N)! Admit i—"

"Fine!" I yelled, interrupting him and, to my surprise, his eyes widened as if he was a bit stunned by my outburst. "I want to fuck you! Alright?! I've dreamed about you doing things to me every fucking night since we fucking met! And I can't take anymore!"

His shocked expression formed into a cocky one as his lips turned up into a smirk again. He just stared at me for a moment in silence as I tried to look everywhere but in his direction, terrified to make eye contact after my naughty little confession.

"We're alone here; Chris and Mike went back to the lodge, so is there really any reason to hold back?" His words pierced into my mind like a fishing hook, stabbing that curious part of my brain and reeling me into his sick grasp. I shyly looked up at him and bit the inside of my cheek, not knowing what to do or say.

His eyes darkened further with lust as they peered up at me while his tongue slipped out to lick his lower lip before sucking it between his teeth. He knew exactly what he was doing — he was killing me with temptation. But was he just toying with my emotions? He was hell bent on humiliating everybody else tonight, so what made me so different? For all I knew, there was a camera hidden somewhere to humiliate me as well. I heaved a deep sigh, feeling tired and quite frankly sick of caring. I took a few steps closer to the bound man in front of me before making my very first move.

I stopped right in between his open legs and raised my hand to his head, running my fingers through his surprisingly soft curls and then clenching my digits into a fist, pulling his head back and forcing him to open his mouth as he let out a hiss in pain. I took the opportunity to clash my lips against his and slide my tongue into his mouth, pushing it harshly against his with much need and passion.

A wild fight for dominance began as I lowered myself onto his lap and started to grind myself on his thigh. The sensation it brought me was dull but just enough to add a little more fuel to the fire and dampen my panties. As our mouths explored each other, my other hand roamed his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the button-up shirt he wore, that I so badly wanted to tear off.

It was then that I realized I couldn't do that without taking off his overalls first. And even then, I had some layers that needed removing as well. I pulled away and he let out a groan of protest while looking up at me with needy eyes. I couldn't help but smile down at him before unzipping my jacket and letting it slide off my shoulders to hit the ground. Understanding what I was doing, Josh's eyes lit up with excitement like a puppy watching his master prepare his food. He watched as I took off my shirt and pants, throwing them on the floor in a messy pile, along with my discarded winter jacket.

Leaving my bra and panties on to tease him, I stepped closer towards him and ran my finger down one of the straps of his overalls before popping its button open, letting it fall to reveal more of his shoulder. I repeated the same actions with the second strap and then pulled the overalls down, just passed his knees. I took a moment to admire his already huge erection — which was pressing firmly against his boxers as if it was dying to escape from its fabricated prison — before slowly working on the buttons of his flannel shirt.

"Ah! Would you hurry up!" He whined as I took my sweet time, taking at least three seconds to pop each button open.

"Ah, ah, ah—" I scolded teasingly. "Be patient. After all, you deserve a little teasing after the shit you pulled tonight."

He responded with another groan and I couldn't stop myself from chuckling at his childish nature. I pulled his shirt open but realized that he had a shirt on underneath — one that could not be opened.

"Oh… I guess you'll just have to keep wearing that." I commented and he gave me a questioning look.

"Why?"

"Because you're tied up."

"For fuck sake." He grumbled with a roll of his eyes. "Why can't you just fucking untie me?"

"You know why. Besides, it's ridiculously cold outside, so extra layers are a good thing." 

Then I kneeled down, ignoring the shock of the cold floor touching my bare knees. I ran a single finger over the throbbing erection through his boxers and he visibly shivered as a reaction. Smiling with satisfaction due to his response, I decided to give him a little more by darting my tongue out and lightly dragging it over his cock, the same way I had done with my finger only moments ago. He let out a soft moan as he let his eyes fall shut, savoring the moment the best he could.

I then hooked my fingers underneath the waistband of his boxers and began pulling them down. He responded to my actions by lifting his hips up, allowing me to pull them down his legs and finally release his cock into the cold night's air. I stared in amazement at his thick length. Josh was a big guy — 6'2" tall to be exact — so I expected there to be quite some girth in his size. But fuck — I thought shit like this was only possible in pornography.

Noticing some of the pre‐cum building up in the slit of his swollen tip, I couldn't stop myself from darting my tongue out to lap it up in one quick sweep. Then I wrapped my lips around his head and sucked on it as hard as I could, earning a deep satisfied groan from him as he jerked his hips up to force me to go deeper — but I pushed them back down with my hands.

"Fuck, if you don't give me something— anything—"

"You'll do what?" I interrupted after pulling his tip out of my mouth with a loud pop. I smirked at him as he let out a strained whine — now completely dominated and owned by me. "Fine. Since you've been such a good boy, I'll give you a little more — how does that sound?"

"Oh— Oh, yes please!" He begged desperately — his voice laced with a pathetic whine

as his eyebrows turned up, making him appear far more innocent than both me and him knew him to be.

I stood up and reached behind my back to unhook my bra and then allowed it to slide down my arms and hit the cold floor beneath me. After letting his hungry eyes linger on my 'girls' for a minute, I turned around so my back was facing him before letting my fingers hook into the waistband of my panties. I made sure to bend over and push my ass out to give him a great show as I slowly pulled them down and let them join my bra on the floor. I straightened up and twirled around, only to be surprised by the dangerous look in Josh's eyes. They were dark and full of pure lust and hunger; it made my core ache for him.

I slowly walked over to him as he licked his lips impatiently like a starving wolf waiting to devour his next meal. The sound of my bare feet slapping against the cold concrete went insync with each passing second, adding to the growing anticipation that was driving me wild. I finally stood just an inch away, staring down at the hungry man before me and admiring his bound form. I buried my hand in his thick hair again but this time, I pulled his head forward, forcing his lips to crash into my pussy.

Taking the hint like a good little boy, his tongue began to work away at my mound, flicking the little bundle of nerves at a rather fast pace. The sensation was incredible — I felt my whole body heat up in a matter of seconds due to the burning arousal his tongue was bringing me. And just when I thought it couldn't get any better, he wrapped his soft lips around my clit to suckle on it as his tongue did it's magic.

Tears began to pool into the corners of my eyes as I felt my orgasm fast approaching. I couldn't fucking believe that I was this close already. His green eyes peered up at me, burning with nothing more than determination to make me cum as his brows furrowed. That sight alone was enough to push me closer to the edge — but when he started moaning, my legs were turning into jelly.

I tossed my head back and moaned so loudly that I wouldn't have been surprised if the others at the lodge could have heard me. My heart was beating so fast that I could have bet that it was going to explode out of my chest. This felt so amazing. I felt so free — hell, so alive! But although I was so close to my climax that I so desperately wanted and needed, I didn't want to cum like this. Not yet, at least…

I pulled away and he let out yet another groan of frustration. Lifting his chin so he would be forced to look up at me, I admired my work, taking in the image of his mouth and chin glistening with my juices as he licked his lips to taste my leftovers. Deciding that I didn't want to waste another second and that it was time, I placed my hands on his shoulders to steady myself before allowing myself to sink down onto his lap — but not all the way. He wasn't getting this that easy.

The stinging sensation of his tip pushing into me and stretching me out was so fucking pleasurable that it was nearly impossible not to continue going all the way, but I wanted to rile him up — I wanted this to last. He let out an annoyed grunt when I stopped and smirked down at him. His eyes shot daggers into mine, gleaming at me with want and frustration and nothing more. I couldn't help but chuckle at how pathetic he was at that moment — how he teased me for being such a needy little slut and now that's exactly what he had become.

"I bet it's killing you right now, being tied up and not in control for once. How does it feel?" I chuckled darkly as I sat completely still, enjoying the tip of his cock twitching within me with much need. But to my surprise, his lips turned up into a dark grin as he let out a combination of a laugh and a growl.

"Y–You think I'm not in control? Oh! Ooooh, you naive little bird! You are so wrong!"

Before I could say anything, he jerked his hips up, forcing each inch of his length into me within a second until his tip slammed into my cervix. I cried out in shock as my core stung with pain due to the lack of preparation for his size until that pain melted into nothing but pure pleasure. He was so much bigger than me, it was overwhelming.

His cock continued to twitch within me — on purpose to tease me or with arousal, I'm unsure. I felt my mind fog with pleasure as I began to fall sedated from my arousal before remembering what I was planning to do. I wasn't here to fall to submission at the hands of this man but to teach the little brat a very valuable lesson: Don't fuck with me.

I gripped his shoulders tightly, digging my nails into the fabric of his shirt for leverage before lifting myself up and slamming myself down hard, knocking unexpected moans from both of our mouths. I wasted no time to start bobbing myself up and down at an incredibly fast pace, bringing the needy sonuvabitch to the edge of his orgasm and then stopping at the very second I felt his shoulders tense up and his cock twitch within me.

A frustrated growl left his lips as he glared at me. I responded with a cocky smirk before lifting myself up again — as slowly as possible — and slamming down again, making the stool beneath us creak a little. Burying my fingers into his soft locks again, I forced his head upwards so I could make eye contact with him as I tortured him. I ground my hips down onto his, rotating them in a circle and his eyes widened — almost pleading to me while he pursed his lips as if he was trying to stifle his moans.

"Ah, ah! If you want more, you have to let me hear it!" I teased before clenching my hand that was tangled in his hair into a fist, pulling on his locks hard and forcing his mouth open.

He openly and shamelessly moaned for me as tears formed in his eyes. I chuckled at his neediness and then leaned down to let my lips graze the side of his neck before giving the sensitive skin a little nip. And I have to admit, I really enjoyed the sound of him gasping in shock at my action.

I then began planting slow kisses along the length of his neck until my lips pressed against the sweet spot right under his jawline to feel his racing pulse quickening by the second. After giving him another little nip and earning another cute, little gasp from him; I began giving him more wet, hard, open-mouth kisses; repeating the same patterns up and down his neck.

After a couple of minutes of completely savoring his delicious taste, I decided to end the torture on a wild note and licked a stripe up his throat from the base to his jaw, feeling the vibrations of his sweet melodic moans while he lifted his head to give me more access as I did so.

I pulled away slightly to look into his wide eyes and smirked before planting a quick kiss on his lips. It was difficult to keep myself from giggling at his shocked expression from my most recent actions. Now that the torture was over, it was time to get straight to business. I lifted myself up and sank back down again, deciding to move at a more neutral pace to savor the moment. I never thought that I'd be here, fucking Joshua fucking Washington, so I was going to milk every second out of this special occasion.

I squeezed his shoulders tightly as I pushed myself up, his cock sliding out of my walls until only the tip remained. I slammed back down, moaning as his head hit right into my g-spot. The way his eyes fluttered shut and his head lolled back as I slammed myself down sent chills straight down my spine. I had wanted this for so long — too long. And I definitely wasn't done with my little teasing game.

I lifted up again and held still in my position, earning a frustrated groan from my lover. Only his tip remained within me, leaving an empty feeling within my core as it ached for what was no longer there. I wanted to absolutely rail him until he was speechless — the pleasure that I so desperately craved just within reach. I felt the speed of my heartbeat increase with each passing second. The cold night's air dragged its chilling fingers down my back, sending chills down my spine and awaking goosebumps upon my skin. I wanted this so, so bad.

But I had to stay strong — I had to keep control.

I swallowed thickly and took a deep breath in an attempt to stifle my growing arousal for a bit longer. But just when I finally regained the little bit of control that had been slipping through my fingers, Josh let out another frustrated growl before his eyes burrowed deeply into mine with anger.

"That's it!" He yelled and before I could react, he jerked his hips upwards, forcing his thick shaft deep into my hole. I couldn't hold back — it was too much. I let my head fall back as a moan pushed passed my lips. My walls stretched and clenched around him, swallowing his length within my heat and savoring the stinging pleasure it offered me.

He continued to buck his hips into mine, his strength and speed overwhelming me in an orgasmic bliss. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice my hand traveling below my waist to play with my sensitive mound that was swelling for attention. Well — I didn't notice until Josh pointed it out, of course.

"Oh, yes! Good girl!" He praised my actions — his voice dipping a few octaves lower than before, only pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. "Touch yourself for Daddy!"

His words sent a buzz to my mind that no alcohol could replicate. It was as if he was casting a spell on me, and each word he spoke had me falling deeper and deeper into his grasp.

I knew that there was no escape now. After hours of trying to run away, the killer had finally caught his prey — and I was oh, so willing to be his helpless victim.

"You are so, so wet right now." He whispered in my ear, a light chuckle on the edge of his tongue. "You're such a slut for me."

I sobbed at his harsh words and he let out an evil laugh.

"Come on — I wanna hear you say it."

"I–I'm — ah!"

I could barely even speak under his cruel gaze. It was as if his bold eyes had me frozen in place, only allowing me to let out moans and uneven breaths as I approached my climax. But just as I thought I had gotten off the hook from disobeying Josh's orders, he slammed his hips up in what felt like a new angle, pushing his cock deeper inside of me and pressing it so hard against my g-spot that I literally saw stars. I barely let out a squeak as my breath caught in my throat, trapping any sound from escaping me.

"I. Said. Say it!" He growled through gritted teeth. His eyes were growing in size with what I thought was anger, pupils dilating and nearly covering his light green irises completely.

"I–I–I'm your s–s–s–slut–t!" I struggled to say in a strained voice. I felt so small under his judgmental gaze, but I assumed that was what he wanted. Though his features softened at my weak declaration and he smiled sweetly — so sweet it almost made me cry.

"That's right — you're my precious little slut." He cooed lovingly. "Good girl."

With that being said, he began to move again. His movements were slow at first, but his pace quickly picked up to a speed that I thought was damn impossible. My trembling fingers gripped his shoulders as I felt myself nearing the end. Even he began to shiver as his once steady breaths became uneven and deep, telling me that he must have been close as well.

I wrapped an arm around his neck as I placed my finger on my clit once again. We remained in eye contact — foreheads pressed together as we shared breaths — while my finger quickened its pace in fast little circles over my throbbing mound.

But then, it happened — my climax covered my body like a tsunami and drowned me in a sea of intoxicating pleasure. It was as if a spark had lit within my core and spread throughout my body as fast as a wildfire; it was magical. I could barely even hear myself scream out as blood rushed to my ears and made my heartbeat the only sound they could comprehend.

I was lucky that I just barely came out of my post–orgasm daze just in time to see Josh releasing within me. His eyes squeezed shut as his head lolled back and his mouth fell wide open while he let out a moan that was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

It was an image that I had imagined hundreds of times, but the real thing could never compare to any fantasy I had ever conjured up in my mind — and I'd treasure it forever.

"Are you… Ok?" I heard Josh whisper. His voice was now soft and breathless, soothing me in my fragile state.

I let out a hum in response, not bothering to lift my head from where it rested on his shoulder or speak words that were bound to be pronounced wrong due to my shaky voice. I was too tired to do anything at that moment. I felt him beginning to soften inside of me and I let out relaxed sigh while closing my eyes.

"No…" Josh whispered again — his tone now more concerned and sympathetic. I finally lifted my head to meet his gaze and noticed that his eyes looked just as sympathetic as his voice sounded — so sad and remorseful. "I mean, are you ok from the prank? I'm so sorry."

His voice broke on the last sentence, and for the first time that night, he looked as if he was going to cry. My heart felt heavy for him. He seemed so broken and messed up since his sisters went missing. How could I blame him for wanting us to feel a tiny bit of the same pain he felt? I decided to just brush off my feelings now — for his sake. I let out a soft laugh and nodded my head slowly.

"Well, Josh — one thing's for sure: you are going to make one hell of a film producer." I chuckled while brushing the loose strands of hair out of his eyes. Josh's eyes widened while his mouth fell open dramatically as he let out an over-exaggerated gasp.

"D–Does this mean you actually liked my prank?!"

I giggled at his childish behavior. I didn't want to admit it, but it was probably a little too late for holding back now. I heaved a defeated sigh before speaking my confession.

"If I'm being honest, your prank was actually kind of — really impressive." I reluctantly admitted, thinking back to all the things he somehow managed to pull off by himself.

"I fucking knew it!" He gloated as that too familiar smirk returned to his lips. I rolled my eyes while letting out a huff of laughter.

"Don't get so cocky.* I narrowed my eyes at him — though the smile on my face most likely told him that I wasn't as angry as I was prior to our fuck. "Honestly, I'm not angry anymore. but that doesn't mean I fully forgive or trust you again — not yet, at least."

"What? Just little old me?" He whispered so quiet it was barely audible, while giving me a look of pure innocence. "Just little old me, tied up here and helpless?"

I shook my head as my smile reluctantly broadened. "Keep acting cute like that and I might just have to untie you."

"Oh — so, it's working?" His lips curved up into a sly smirk and I rolled my eyes again while letting out a huff of laughter.

Finally — after so long — everything had finally melted into silence. Josh just gazed into my eyes lovingly, without saying a word. I felt so calm — so peaceful. I laid my head on his shoulder and relaxed again. Despite the cold air chilling my body to the bone and the feeling of warm liquid turning cool between my thighs, I felt so content to just stay on his lap the whole night.

But then I remembered something important: I could only do that until dawn, since Josh would most likely end up getting arrested then. I was grateful for the long moment of silence, because it gave me time to think.

While thinking, I must have lifted up my head without realizing because when I barely came out of my thoughts, Josh was staring at me with a puzzled expression. I barely reacted to him as my mind went elsewhere again.

"Hey… Do you have the keys for the cable car?" I asked after a couple of very quiet minutes — my voice just above a whisper as I continued to stay lost in my thoughts.

"Yeah... Why?" His face studied mine while his brows furrowed and lips pursed from confusion.

I continued to think for a few seconds. What I was thinking of was quite reckless and dangerous, but in the end, it might have been worth it. Finally deciding on what I was going to do, my lips turned up into a sly smile as I studied his beautiful features that were contorted with confusion, knowing that what I was going to say about going to change the butterfly effect of tonight drastically.

"Let's get the fuck out of here."

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

You made it to the end! Good for you! I hope you enjoyed it! 😃 What was your favorite part of the story? Feel free to let me know in the comments! I love getting feedback! Oh, and if this fic does well, I might just write a sequel someday... 👀

[simping4villains]

Day one of Kinktober 2023!

I’m starting late and probably not going to be able to post every day, but I fully intend to write for all of the prompts no matter how long it takes! Lmk what characters you wanna see!

Day 1: Pegging - Shigaraki x Reader

~~~~~

Shigaraki had his face buried in your panties as he laid in your bed, fisting his cock.

He often did this when you were out on missions—without your knowledge, of course. He dreaded the thought of you finding out, but still, he couldn’t help himself. He loved being surrounded by your scent as he thought about you bouncing up and down his length. It just made it feel that much more real.

He didn’t think that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, that you’d ever lust after someone that had been rejected by society, labeled as too vile and disgusting. It didn’t help that he was so inexperienced, either. What could he offer you that other men couldn’t?

So, he kept his distance from you and kept his feelings a secret. He treated you just as he would any other member of the league, if not worse. He was quiet whenever you were around, avoiding your gaze and only stealing glances when he was sure you wouldn’t be looking.

His jealousy threatened to rear its head any time he saw Dabi flirt with you over a card game, or the way Spinner’s fingers would brush against yours as he handed you a drink. Those were the men you should want, right? Someone confident and aloof or caring and warm—not the creep who snuck into your room to smell your underwear.

He imagined what the other guys might say, how shocked they would be if they caught the two of you together. He could almost hear the way the handle of your door would rattle before the whole thing swung open, revealing the pornographic scene. The two of you rocking the bed as you used him to reach your high, crying out his name as—

“Shigaraki?”

No, not like that, more like—

Wait. Fuck.

He pulled your panties away from his face, wide eyes meeting yours. He felt frozen in panic.

“What. . . what are you doing? What is that?” You asked, pointing to the bunched up panties he still clutched in his hand.

The first question had really been a formality, just a response to your own shock. Of course, it was obvious what he was doing. His dick was still out, after all.

“I-I-“ He couldn’t find the words to explain himself. He dropped his fifth finger, decaying your panties to get rid of the evidence before moving to tuck himself back into his pants. “Sorry, I was just—“

“Stop.”

His hands froze at his waistband, eyes flicking up to you, full of embarrassment. He watched with uncertainty as you slowly approached the bed, like you were afraid of spooking him.

His heart raced as you drew nearer, feeling like it would surely beat out of his chest as your weight dipped onto the mattress beside him. Your skirt rode up a bit as you sat down, exposing more of your plush thighs. It took all of his willpower not to stare.

“What was that you just dusted?” You asked. “It wasn’t a pair of my underwear, was it?”

“N-No! It was nothing! I—“

“Don’t lie to me. You’ll only make things worse for yourself.”

His face felt impossibly hot. He wondered what shade of scarlet he’d turned. “Alright, it was.”

“So that’s where they’ve been disappearing to. I thought Toga was getting a little too comfortable with borrowing my clothes,” You laughed. “Pathetic.”

His cock twitched slightly at the insult, which you didn’t fail to notice.

“So what am I doing in these fantasies of yours? Am I on my knees for you or bent over the bed letting you use me however you want?”

He was especially flustered at that. Did you really want to know? You had told him to be honest. “Well, actually, i’m not. . . not the one. . .”

Your eyebrows lifted in amusement. “Oh? Are you telling me that you want to be the one getting fucked?”

He swallowed hard, but his anxiety remained lodged uncomfortably in his throat, so dry he could barely speak. So instead he just nodded, the slightest motion to confirm that what you’d guessed was true.

You flashed him a devious smile, wrapping a soft hand around his length, causing him to gasp at the sudden contact.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Just giving you what you wanted,” you answered.

You started slowly stroking his shaft, not quite giving him enough pressure to be satisfied. It didn’t seem real. He didn’t understand why you were doing this. Were you messing with him? Was it some sort of joke?

“Aren’t you mad?” He choked out, trying to hold back the moans that threatened to escape.

“Furious,” you told him. “Do you have any idea how long i’ve been waiting for you to make a move? And this whole time you’ve been perving out behind my back.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, his hips chasing your hand as it pulled away from his length.

“Are you?” You dragged your panties down your legs, dropping them onto the ground before climbing on top of him, hovering over his chest. “Show me just how sorry you are. Maybe i’ll find it in my heart to forgive you if you can make me cum.”

He quickly nodded, grabbing your thighs and dragging you closer to him so he could bury his face in your folds. He might not have had any prior experience, but he certainly made up for it in his desperation as he tried vigorously to please you. He speared you with his tongue, using it to try to fuck you before pulling out to lap at your clit. He wanted to give attention to everything, to have you feeling overwhelmed with a mix of sensations. And honestly? It was working.

You leaned forward, gripping your bed frame as you started rocking your hips against his face, chasing the pleasure he was giving you. You worried he might back off once you started doing this, but it only seemed to encourage him. His pace quickened as he worked you closer to your release.

Finally, the coil of pleasure snapped within you and you threw your head back in a moan. Shigaraki’s fingers dug into your thighs as he held you in place, tongue dipping deeper into your spasming walls to drink up all of your juices as his nose kept rubbing at your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. His pace slowed as you came down from your high, allowing you a chance to recover.

You backed off of him as you caught your breath, running a hand through your hair. He looked up at you in wonder, licking his lips. You tasted so sweet, he thought that he would probably do that all day if you’d let him.

You ran a thumb over his cheek. “That was good,” you said. “You really are sorry, huh?”

“I am,” he assured you.

“And you’ve been so good, I guess I should reward you now.”

His eyes twinkled. “Reward?”

“Yeah, i’ll fuck you, if that’s still what you want.”

“It is,” he said, running his hands up your thighs.

“So take your clothes off, then.”

You rolled off of him and onto the bed, pulling your own clothes off. He scrambled to get undressed, tossing his clothes onto the floor next to your panties. He held his cock and reached for you, ready to help guide you onto it. You stopped him, though.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing,” You told him. “You just haven’t earned my pussy yet.”

“Oh. So then what are—“

“Stand next to the bed.”

Without any protest, he did as he was told. Once he was finished, you circled him, taking in every inch of his body. You ran your hand up his back and pushed him so that he was bent over the bed, ass in the air.

With his face in the mattress, everything was a bit muffled, but he could hear a drawer open, followed by some rustling, and then finally the sound of a bottle opening. He flinched as something cold dripped onto his skin, causing you to laugh again.

“What’s wrong? This is what you wanted, right?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit distracted by the feeling of the lube dripping lower.

You caught it with your fingers and rubbed it over his hole, teasing his entrance with the slightest bit of pressure each time you circled over it. “So, what? Did you change your mind? Decided you can’t take it after all?”

“No, I can!”

You smirked. “You’re going to be a good boy for me?”

He nodded desperately.

You circled the rim of his hole again, this time pushing a finger in slowly. His walls tightened at the intrusion, as if trying to force you out. However, from where you were, you could tell he loved it. There was a slight blush on his cheeks and his dick was starting to leak pre.

With your other hand, you rubbed his thigh. “Just try to relax.”

He took a few breaths and you were finally able to slide in to your second knuckle. You pumped it in and out a few times before adding a second. He couldn’t hold back his moans as you curled your fingers over his special spot, scissoring them each time you pulled out to stretch him.

He was a mess when you removed them completely, whining over the sudden loss of stimulation. He was desperate for you to fuck him already, arching his ass toward you. You gave it a harsh slap and grabbed a fistful of his hair, causing him to yelp as you pulled him back.

“Quit acting like such a brat.” You whispered in his ear. “I’ll give you what you want, just be patient, alright?”

“Yes, mommy.”

It was a slip. He hadn’t meant to say that. You certainly wouldn’t have anticipated it in a thousand years. You were momentarily caught off-guard, unable to help the heat that rose to your cheeks. You shoved him back onto the bed.

“O-Okay, just,” you cleared your throat, trying to muster up the same confidence you’d felt before, “just sit still and quit complaining.”

With his face against the mattress again, he nodded.

It didn’t take you long to grab your strap and put it on, but it still felt like ages for Shigaraki. His chest was bubbling with so much anticipation he worried he might explode. He could barely contain his excitement when he heard the bottle of lube open again, followed by a slight squelching sound as you coated the dildo.

You brought the leftover lube to his ass, spreading it over his hole before sliding your fingers in once more, hoping it was enough to have warmed him up. Then, you grabbed your strap with one hand, lining it up with his entrance. With the other hand, you gently rubbed his lower back.

“Let me know if it’s too much. I can stop if—“

“I can take it,” he insisted, his tone reflecting the irritation he felt. He was getting impatient.

Fucking brat.

You rolled your eyes and started pushing in. With how he was acting, you actually kind of enjoyed watching the way his face twisted in a mix of pleasure and pain as he was stretched out. You wanted to fuck the cocky attitude right out of him. Maybe you could get him to admit that it was too much, that he couldn’t handle your strap. Knowing how stubborn he could be, it seemed like a fun challenge.

“Are you doing okay?” You asked when your hips finally met his thighs.

His chest was rising and falling heavily as he tried to keep his body relaxed. It was a lot, definitely more than he’d anticipated, but he wasn’t going to quit, not when he was finally getting his shot with you. “I’m fine,” he snapped in-between breaths.

Yeah, he was really asking for it.

The first couple of thrusts were slow. You wanted to give his body a chance to adjust so you wouldn’t hurt him. Of course, as soon as he started whimpering, you decided not to hold back. You grabbed onto his hips and started snapping against him, jackhammering at a rapid pace until he was practically screaming, gripping onto the sheets for dear life.

“Do you need to stop?” You asked, worried you’d gone too far.

“God, fuck, NO,” he moaned as you fucked into him. “I’m so close.”

“Already?” You teased, before another idea dawned on you. You ignored his whines as you pulled out of him, helping him flip to lay on his back. Pressing his thighs back, you lined your strap up with his entrance and sank back into him. You built back up to a steady pace, rolling your hips on each thrust so you’d hit his special spot just right. “Don’t cum until I tell you to.”

“I don’t—ngh—don’t think I can wait.”

“You can and you will, unless you want me to punish you.”

“Agh! No.”

“You’re gonna be my good boy?” You asked.

He nodded. “So good—mmph.”

You matched the pace you’d been at before, fucking him hard and deep. He bit his bottom lip to stifle his moans.

You grabbed at his jaw, bringing your face closer you his. “Don’t hold back. I wanna hear you. I wanna know you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am!” He panted.

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you hard?”

He nodded.

“Does it feel good?”

“Mm so fucking good.”

You kissed him, your mouths moving together in a passionate frenzy. You reached between you and wrapped your hand around his throbbing cock, spreading the pre that had leaked out of his tip. He threw his head back, arching off of the bed as you touched him.

It was too much. Way too fucking much. He was a whimpering mess, quickly losing control.

“What is it?” you asked, stroking his length in time with your thrusts.

“Please,” he begged over and over, “Please let me cum.”

“You think you deserve it?”

“Yes!”

He tilted his head to look at you again. Tears were spilling past his lashes and trailing onto his flushed cheeks. He looked completely broken. It was beautiful.

“I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything you want. Just please let me—“

“Tomura, you have been good.” You nodded. “Go ahead. I want you to cum for me.”

“Fuck,” he moaned , bucking his hips to match your movements and push himself over the edge.

Within moments, he fell apart, spitting profanities as cum shot from his tip and painted your stomach, slowly dripping back onto him. His brow was furrowed and his chest was heaving as he came down from his high. His body felt like putty, but he couldn’t recall having a more intense orgasm in his life.

You rolled off of him and removed the strap, grabbing a towel.

“That was. . . incredible,” he said in-between breaths as he watched you wipe his cum off of your skin.

You felt an amused smile spread across your face. “Did I live up to your fantasies?”

“You were better.”

“Good answer.” You handed him the towel.

“Did I earn it yet?”

“What?” You asked, confused.

He flashed a crooked smirk, wiggling his eyebrows. “You know.”

You laughed as you understood. “Are you telling me you want another round already?”

“I’m not so sure about right now, but maybe another night.”

“Oh, so you don’t think this was a one-time thing?”

“I hope it wasn’t.”

You smiled and kissed him again before patting his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go shower.”

[arizonaraine]

SHC: Kevin McCallister, Home Alone

So, I've not posted anything in years. But I am alive and well, thanks for asking :) Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! I recently rewatched Home Alone and have been thinking about my favorite blonde home security system's sorting. See TLDR below if you want a summary.

Kevin starts the movie as a very immature Snake primary. He wants what he wants-- a plain cheese pizza and a room to himself-- and doesn't seem overly concerned with the feelings of others. When he wakes up and discovers his entire family has disappeared, his first response is jubilation. I personally think that a Badger primary would have been pretty disturbed by this sudden lack of community, and a Bird would have questioned a bit more exactly what happened. Kevin, as a Snake primary, goes about living his best life. He jumps on the bed, raids his brother's room, eats a massive ice cream sundae, and watches the movie he was excluded from viewing.

The more time he spends alone, though, the more he realizes that he loves and misses his people. He sleeps with the family picture under his pillow. When making his request to Santa, he says, "I just want my family back. No toys, no presents, nothing but Peter, Kate, Buzz, Megan, Linnie, and Jeff. And my Aunt and my cousins. And, if he has time, my Uncle Frank." Frank, it seems, hasn't made it into Kevin's tiered Snake primary loyalty system.

Another hint at his primary is his conversation with Old Man Marley. He says, "I don't care how mad I was, I'd talk to my dad. Especially around the holidays." His dad is important than being right in whatever disagreement separated Marley and his son. I think a Lion wouldn't have that same sentiment, even if they missed their parent.

Lastly, after he runs home from that chat with Marley at the church, Kevin says, "This is my house. I have to defend it." What makes it worth defending is that it's his.

I think that Kevin has an impressive Bird secondary, though an argument could be made for Snake. The way I see it, Kevin is a planner. In his post-shower monologue, he lists all the things he's done til that point, and then discusses what he plans to do later in the day. He makes grocery lists and clips coupons. He draws up a master plan for the defense of his house, using tools that he's collected up to that point in the movie (micro machines, Christmas ornaments, etc.). He utilizes the mannequins in the basement for the fake Christmas party.

While he's pretty good at pivoting, it doesn't seem to be where he's at his best. At the grocery store, he manages to avoid the cashier's questions (Actor Bird?), but he doesn't appear to take any pleasure in being sly. He uses the movie the trick Marv, but it leads to further suspicion from Harry, which spells trouble for Kevin. When he's caught at the end, he doesn't try to run or talk his way out of it-- he's just stunned. His plan, which had been going so well, failed! Thankfully, his Snake primary saves the day. The connection he forged with Old Man Marley pays off. (The ending scene where he and Marley wave at each other always makes me cry.)

TL;DR

Kevin McCallister is a Snake primary who is alone in his inner circle in the beginning, but realizes how much his family means to him and brings them into his value system. His Snakey connection with Old Man Marley saves him in the end. His Bird secondary enjoys laying plans, clipping coupons, and making lists. He can pivot when he needs to, but that's not the first tool that falls to his hand.

(@wisteria-lodge what's your archetype name for the Snake Bird again? :))

[jekyll-doodles]

📎 paperclip , ☁️ cloud and 📦 package, for the wakey wakey lords ? ^^

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

A Glimpse Into The After:

The palace halls were still a non-euclidean wonder to behold. Only now though, they were reliably navigable.

Well, they were for the most part. However, even if the lords had sorted out the labyrinthine layout, there were still a few unfortunate souls who would end up lost on occasion. After all, when the mind tends to wander, it tends to get lost. That's where Nigredo found himself currently: very lost. Just like his old self those many centuries ago; he had lost himself in thought and ended up somewhere he did not quite recognize. At least this time, wandering through the palace was not as treacherous as it used to be. One could take in the elegant decor without fearing for one's well-being at the hands of the ambassador. Nor having to worry about running the risk of accidentally walking in on a promiscuous scene. 

Certainly, when one is lost as he currently was, observing the scenery was the only thing he could do. And there were many grandeurs to behold: bouquets of lively flowers lined the halls, doors that were elegantly carved and towered above, and  flooring that was a soft carpet reminiscent of a glittering night sky. It would stand to reason then, he thought as he continued his search for the familiar, that this was possibly either Citrinitas's or Rubedo's lodgings. Their forms needed such accommodations: bigger doors and non-slip flooring.

'Perfect,' Nigredo mused as he picked and tucked a flower into his hair, ' I needed to speak with Citrinitas on the time matter, and if I instead found Rubedo, I can at least ask for directions.'

As he peered into the occasional room – knocking first to announce himself, of course – he felt the looming feeling of living in such a grand yet somehow empty place start to sink in. The palace was by no means empty, it was simply not full to the brim of people engaging in an assortment of debauchery and violence anymore. Perhaps it was merely the size difference of these particular halls that was making him uncomfortable. His own lodgings were not as grand– or more so, not as open-spaced. Or perhaps it was his upbringing, having lived with a large family for most of his life. Either way, it hastened his pace to find someone. Anyone.

Luckily, the loneliness did not last long. One room was thankfully occupied. It was a large bedroom set in a deep, sweet maroon and contrasted by orange candles that illuminated just enough to see into its cozy darkness. Its centerpiece: a bed fit for at least fifteen people comfortably. Fifteen average-sized people, that is. Currently, it had only one sole snoozing occupant that quietly napped amongst a mass of blankets and pillows. 

"...Rubedo?" Nigredo called out in a whisper as he stepped into the room, mindful not to let too much light in. He crept closer as his friend mumbled a response. "Rubedo, I need some help." 

The man drowsily blinked open one eye, just enough to gaze over to his worried friend, then propped himself up on his elbows. "...Lovely flower. One of mine?" The smile in his tone was ever present.

"Please focus," Nigredo ran a hand through his hair, absentmindedly fixing the flower. " I need to speak with Citrinitas, but I'm… kind of lost."  Nigredo sheepishly admitted. One or two pairs of his hands wringing themselves. 

Rubedo, ever helpful, hummed in understanding. He then laid himself back down with a yawn and a stretch of his hind legs as he settled back into sleep. 

"... Can you at least give me directions?" Nigredo tapped his foot, but kept a calm tone.  "Or any directions really. I'll take a simple 'North' or 'East'. This way or That." 

"Hmmm… nope." 

"Why not?" 

The dozing man simply beckoned him closer with a finger. Nigredo humored him and crawled closer. He planned that, should his friend fall back asleep without helping him, he would try tapping him awake or possibly stealing one of the blankets to rouse him. Suddenly though, before either plan could be carried out, a pair of tendrils snaked out of the fabrics and wrapped around his waist. The twin tails gently lifted him up onto the soft bed, over Rubedo, and sat him against his back. 

Nigredo huffed, knowing he should have expected as much. "Rubedo, I need to–" 

"I know, I know," he assured him warmly. "We'll go see Citrinitas in a few minutes. There's no rush." 

"It is a bit time-sensitive actually." Nigredo corrected, yet relented to rest against his sleepy friend. 

"Oh? Have you two figured time out yet?" 

Nigredo began to answer that it was complicated: that a plan had been devised but needed revision, and given their normal duties, it was postponed quite a few times – ironically enough, finding time to fix their linear time was more tricky than originally assumed. He proposed they seek guidance from SCP-343, but – and that's about when he realized that the question had been a mere distraction. Rubedo was only half listening, half dozing off again. Seizing the opportunity, he attempted to unwrap the tails from his waist, but they twisted back around him. 

"I have work to do, ya know. Important work." How was it that he had more arms now, yet was being bested by two tails? 

"Mhmmm." Rubedo purred. "I know. I have my important work too. But it's also important to take breaks, yes?" 

It felt shameful that after all this time, he still needed to be reminded to do so. Some things never change apparently. That even after The Everything they had endured, they were still… them. 

"...Yes, very important." Nigredo sighed. "...I'm assuming that the other lords are also taking a break now, then?" He plucked a pillow up and rested it on Rubedo's side. Surrendering to the notion of getting comfortable. 

"Mhm, while the children are out playing in the courtyard." 

Nigredo laid down against the pillow, some arms hanging over and wrapping around Rubedo. Others tucking against himself. "Aaah, A moment of peace, hm?" 

The two chuckled, and drifted off into a light sleep together.

[raayllum]

Hey! In retrospect, this might be kinda obvious to some, but I was just thinking about the scene early in Season 4 where Callum recalls the fact that he's destroyed multiple powerful magic objects/artifacts and I realized that that scene was probably meant to highlight/make it hit harder later in the season when Callum can't do the same thing to the cube and I got excited lmao

So I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about what gets lamp shaded / referred back to specifically in S4 and possibly why, re: exactly what you pointed out, dear nonnie, in 4x02 (which made me Yell the first time around because I loved it as a lamp shade), as well as Rayllum's scene on the Pinnacle in 4x05. So why not talk about about them? If you are curious about more on Callum's "breaking magical objects" pattern I'd recommend this meta as well as this one, although there shouldn't be too much repetition here

Let's go

4x02 - Accidentally on Purpose

Including this shot because it has the Ocean-Star rune combination for the cube, my beloved.

The primal stone, Ethari -> Rayla -> Callum's pendant, and the Moon Henge all shudder. The mirror, too, will shortly be broken, although by Aaravos' own hand rather than Callum's (at least, not directly). This line and pattern also underscores one of Callum's key flaws, as his impulsive flippancy ("'It's the winter lodge, Rayla, no winter no humans' ugh" / "He tried to copy Claudia's lightning spell, but he doesn't know how to finish it!") when it comes to magic is ultimately related to how Selfish he can be. He, like many characters in TDP, can tunnel vision so hard he doesn't see or fully consider the possible consequences of his actions, but I do think Callum has a thread of like internalized focus that makes it stem from selfishness (more akin to perhaps Claudia and Viren) than it does shortsightedness/shame (Rayla) or inadvertent steamrolling (Claudia, Ezran).

For Callum, just knowing magic isn't enough. He's always focused on how he can use it.

"I just don't want to be useless," he said (S2 novelization, set during he and Rayla's late night talk about "I have to be a mage again").

He'd always known that cube was important. Maybe now Rayla would start listening to him... and maybe now he would find out how he could use the mysterious cube. [...] But Callum was awake obsessing over the Key of Aaravos. What could he achieve with it?

Now, does Callum ever mean to be selfish? No, of course not. He doesn't mean to put Rayla and Zym in danger with his pursuit of magic (or his lie to Amaya), but that's what happens anyway. 2x04 has always stood out to me as a particularly interesting episode, precisely because it shows this flaw on full display in ways that S1 could've neatly resolved. In 1x04, Callum pursues magic ultimately to the group's detriment (just how much, depending on what the cube does, remains to be seen). Then in 1x09, through smashing the primal stone (which we'll talk about more in a minute) he puts the group above his pursuit of magic. It's a nice little full circle, and it could've easily been the resolution of this behavioural pattern. But it isn't, so I'm curious to see if/how it'll come back in future seasons (maybe S5) in some capacity.

To me, this is one of the things that make TDP's characterization so realistic. Callum can learn one lesson partially in 1x04 (don't take unnecessary risks) and apply that portion fully in 1x07 (regarding elves and humans), be willing to sacrifice a more tangible pursuit of magic for Zym ("But without this, I'm nothing") in 1x09, but still not fully learn his "Look before you leap when it comes to magic" lesson by the time we roll around in 2x04 or even 2x07 (although the context for the latter is vastly different). Just like how if saving Zym or being a good enough protector could solve Rayla's self worth issues, she would've been totally fine after 1x09, but we see her have the exact same kind of breakdown two seasons later ("This is all my fault. I dropped it. I let you both down. I let the world down" / "It's me, and it's all my fault. I failed them! I let them all down") because well - issues and emotional wounds are not so easily solved.

Anyway, back on topic: what does any of this have to do with S4's lamp shading of Callum's tendency of breaking magical objects?

Well, I think you're right: the Key is seemingly rare, powerful, and possibly sought after by Aaravos. At the very least it's connected to him, and Callum is now terrified of him. But he won't relinquish/destroy it at this present time, so there's a nice contrast there. The cube has a pull over him for whatever reason, whether that's curiosity, it being Harrow's last parting gift to him, or even possibly the fact it was the first thing he and Rayla really bonded over ("Hey sad prince. Let's go get your cube") and his own potential as a mage. He does, after all, look at the moon rune specifically after lowering it.

But I also think it's indicative that the object and conversation Callum is most directly referencing is this one with Claudia in 2x02 about breaking their joint primal stone:

Which was pretty noble, and inspired a very strong character arc for Callum, full of struggle and interesting character aspects. Breaking the primal stone wasn't the ideal situation for him by any means, but it was undeniably the Right Thing To Do. On the surface, there's nothing to be worried about... except:

I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother—they will know how I have waited. And when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky. (Patience, TDP reflections)

The Whole World is like a Giant Primal Stone. When backed into a corner and able to save someone he loves and/or cares about, Callum is willing to sacrifice his own source of power. He's willing to bend his morals and do dark magic. He's willing to jump off a cliff with just the faintest hope he can grow wings and save them both. We also know that Callum, either within a possessed state or outside of it, has to play into Aaravos' hands, otherwise it is unlikely the Startouch elf would be released (and he has to be released).

Which, all of this also works fairly well in tandem with

4x05 - You saved me

So Rayllum's scene on the Pinnacle is one of my favourite scenes between them in the season, as well as one of the most interesting. After all, the Pinnacle is the place for quite a few important Rayla and Callum moments in season three: Rayla finding out the truth about her mum and dad, thanks to Callum; Callum trying to tell her that he loves her for the first time (which Soren's interruption also lampshades); and of course when Callum jumps off the Pinnacle to save her. And while Soren's dialogue is a more comedic callback to the second one, Rayla's dialogue calls to mind the latter:

(Callum's face only falls in the second screencap when she gets to "certain death," by the way.)

It's not entirely clear why Callum starts crying when he looks away, as he has a lot of reasons to (the fear of what Aaravos may make him do, thus turning him into something that hurts people rather than saves them; the fact that he's had only like, 1.5 days to process the return of the love of his life and all those complicated feelings) but he does start crying. Rayla then does her best to help, but doesn't get a chance to, and it's not clear if Callum would've let her, either.

But I thought the emphasis on "saving" was interesting, to say the least. Why not be more explicit about the way this was the first time they said "I love you"? Some note of "so much has changed, but not everything's changed" from Rayla, if they wanted a nudge of some sort. Or it could've been something about Rayla's parents, grateful that she was able to forgive them and realize the truth, that'd they'd left for "a good cause".

Well, I think the most straight forward thing is first, that Callum and Rayla are a couple who has always been very defined by reciprocally saving each other; Callum defends them from the smoke wolves, Rayla defends them from Runaan, etc. Rayla saves everyone (Bait, Ezran, Zym, the downed dragon), and Callum saves her (1x05, 2x04, 2x07, 3x09). The second is that S5, if it brings back Callum's possession plot line (and it likely will, with the emphasis on darkness and drowning from some of the TDP shorts for the season: "Soren gasped the darkness like water into his lungs. He could not breathe. He was drowning") Rayla is probably going to the one to ultimately save him from it, somewhat due to the light and dark symbolism as well (Rayla showing up haloed in moonlight with the cube on her shoulder).

An emphasis on how Arc 1 culminated in a big show of love as Callum saved Rayla, if Rayla is going to be the one to successfully save Callum from brainwashing next season (and restore to her that "We can't save everyone" isn't true after all) makes a lot of sense, especially with it foreshadowed / spelled out more directly in this quote from the Book One Moon novelization:

“Wow. So they look identical, but they might kill you or they might save you,” Callum said.

“Exactly. Just like me…” Rayla smiled.

She's certainly not going to kill him and thus, Rayla has to save him. There we get that mutual reciprocation, especially when she left in TTM to try and save/spare him - it'd be a good way for her to realize that the best way to save/protect him is to stay, right here, with him instead. She'll risk the world ("You let him live but you killed us all" "You have two choices: you all die, or just the evil wretched human dies"), and it'll be worth it.

However, as I've already said, Callum has to play into Aaravos' hands in order for the Startouch elf to get out. And Aaravos is clearly pretty confident it'll happen, whether precisely because Callum is worried because of the possession (a more likely manipulation tactic) or due to the possession itself (less likely, as why reveal your checkmate move ahead of time?).

Rayla realizing she can save Callum is also, indeed, only one piece of the puzzle. She also has to realize that she deserves to be saved, which 4x05 seems like a step in the right direction of (she's happy and lovey about it, not guilty) even if her self worth issues are still very prevalent: "This is all my fault. I left [Soren] alone. I shouldn't have—" as well as trying repeatedly to go off on her own.

So 4x05 emphasizing the last time Callum saved her, setting up that he'll also save her again (and possibly risk the primal stone world again, helping to free Aaravos in exchange for also freeing Rayla) in S5?

He'll risk the world, and it'll be worth it.

[jerzwriter]

Tension

This magnificent artwork was a commission from the incredible @/artbyainna. This left me breathless! Look at that lighting! Look at them! I love seeing my little people come to life!

I hope you enjoy this beautiful piece, and the accompanying story too! It's nice to take a little break from the angst in my WTD World.

Book:                Wake the Dead

Pairing:            Eli Sipes x F!MC (Zoe Rivera); feat. Troy Hassan

Rating:             Teen

Category:        Fluff / Friends to lovers / Pining

Summary:       On a rare afternoon of respite, the colonists all find a way to unwind... except for Eli and Zoe. Taking the opportunity to perfect their skills leaves them anything but relaxed.

Words:             2035

A/N:   I imagine this scene to take place just before the trip to the amusement park in Chapter 10. These two are fighting a hell of a lot more than zombies. :) Participating in @choicesjanuarychallenge - Day 17 - Relax

WTD Masterlist Full Masterlist

It was an unusually quiet afternoon at the lodge. The colonist’s hard work had paid off: fortifications and watch crews were keeping the drones at bay, and the gardens and livestock left the pantry full. With daily chores out of the way,  most were free to enjoy a rare afternoon of tranquility.

Troy reclined on one of the couches, humming quietly as he took in the scene around him. Shannon sat nearby, gripping an old magazine she had found as if it were the holy grail. Published around the time of the outbreak’s start, she was adamant it could contain something to help her research. In a distant corner, Minna was setting up a table with May, who was eagerly prepping a tea party for her stuffed animals. Seeing his friends relaxed and experiencing joy… just as he was… brought a smile to his face. And then… there was Eli….

Troy fully expected to find him crouched in front of the fireplace, working on his bow or doing something else… productive. To Troy’s dismay, that’s how Eli defined “resting.” But today, Troy was amused, watching his friend surreptitiously as he hurriedly walked in and out of the room at least half a dozen times. Stretching his neck in every direction, Eli was definitely searching for something. Troy could have asked what he was looking for… as if he didn’t already know… but this was much more fun. Entertainment like this didn’t come along daily, and Troy wasn’t about to let it end too quickly. But on Eli’s sixth go-round, Troy took pity on him.

“Looking for something, Eli?”

Eli turned gruffly in his direction. “What makes you say that?”

“You’ve been in and out of here six times… you’re either looking for something or working up the nerve to ask me to take my night watch shift tonight… any chance on that?” Troy begged, using his best puppy-dog eyes. They might have worked on half of the colonists in Olympus but on Eli… not a chance.

“Keep dreaming, Hassan.”

“So then you are looking for something….” Troy winked. “Or better yet, someone….”

“I didn’t say I was. I….”

“She went outside… mentioned something about going to the range for target practice on the one afternoon we get some downtime!”  Troy shook his head with disgust and pointed a finger Eli’s way. “I hold you responsible for this! She used to be fun. Now, look at her!”

Eli did his best to suppress a smirk. Shrugging his shoulders, he strode past his lounging friend.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he replied straight-faced.

“Yeah, my ass,” Troy yelled after him. 

“Troy… I will never be looking for your ass,” he mocked before heading out the front door.

The moment the fresh air hit him, his feet carried him swiftly in the direction of the range. He was moving at twice his normal speed, though there was no need to rush. No drones were on the property, and no one needed immediate protection. His chores were done, so he wasn’t completing a task. Still, just the slightest bit faster, the man would have been running. Even the elders from Sunflower Creek seated on the porch commented on it. Eli couldn’t help but overhear… then his mind went into overdrive.

This is just how he walked, he tried to convince himself. There was nothing suspicious about it. He was headed to practice himself and wanted to get there before the sun went down. Of course, the sun wasn’t setting for another five hours… but still. There was no reason to be suspect. None at all.

As he neared the range, he could hear the twang of her bow as an arrow released, then seconds later, the dull thud of a target being hit. He waited patiently for the next sound; there could only be one of two outcomes… and a smile crossed his lips when it was the one he had hoped for.

“Yes!” Zoe cheered. Followed but a string of happy little noises Eli couldn’t describe if he tried.

But another sound broadened his smile and made his heart race…. silence. She was alone, and while he’d reprimand her for being unsafe later, for now, he was delighted… Zoe all to himself. He almost surrendered to the rush that washed over him, but without warning, that voice was back in his head. 

What does it matter if she’s alone? She’s not why I’m here. I’m going to practice. Zoe being here is good because we can offer each other tips. If someone else was there, that would just be more input. This means nothing. Nothing at all. His head may have listened, but his heart hadn’t heard a word, and Eli cursed it for continuing to hammer in his chest. This. Meant. Nothing.

Zoe was startled when she heard footsteps approaching through the brush, raising her bow in preparation.

“It’s me,” Eli hollered, “Don’t shoot.”

Her bright smile appeared naturally when she saw who it was, but she quickly turned it into a coy little smirk by her own design.

“Not so much fun to be on the other side. Is it, Mr. Sipes?”

“Are we ever going to stop talking about that?” he deadpanned, but Zoe was astute, and she didn’t miss the smile in his eyes.

“Absolutely never!”

He walked blithely past her and settled down on a large rock to prepare his bow. Zoe’s eyes trailed his every move, returning to shooting? It wasn’t even a thought. She didn’t flinch when he looked up, catching her in the act, and only a slight blush rose to her cheeks when he raised his eyebrows in question.

“Yes? Do you need something?”

“Oh… so, so many things,” she chirped, not missing a beat.

His lips twitched as he turned back to his bow, looking anyplace but at her. He tested the strings before standing.

“It sounded like you had a good shoot when I was walking down here.”

“Of course I did! I’m good!” she boasted, chest sticking out with pride… how he tried not to notice.

“Yes,” he chuckled, and now her heart was racing. She couldn’t describe how she felt when she made Mr. Grumpy laugh or smile, breaking that cold façade. All she knew was it was intoxicating, and each time it happened, she desperately craved more. “You are good,” he continued. “Very good. One day, you may even be great.”

“Oh,” she teased, slinking over in his direction. “And what’s standing between me and greatness?”

He all but lost his ability to think, though he knew he needed to come up with a response. He could just turn around and aim for the target, ignoring what she had just said, but at the moment… he had forgotten how.

“I.. uh… I mean… you…”

“Don’t worry,” Zoe laughed. “I know what I need… even if you don’t.”

“Oh, and what is it that you need?”

“I need to perfect my shot with a standard bow,” she offered immediately, “That’s why I’m here. Most of my training back at the tower was with a crossbow, and I rock the crossbow. But there are differences, and I want to improve there.”

“There are differences. And lucky for you, the traditional bow is my specialty.”

“Oh, I know,” she winked. “That’s why this is my lucky day.”

Her heart fluttered when he smiled again, she could tell he was trying to fight it, but he didn’t stand a chance. Again, she was left yearning.

“Come over here,” he demanded, and she quickly complied. “Now, get into stance. Remember, your feet need to be parallel to the shooting line.”

Zoe glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not a complete idiot, Eli.”

“I didn’t suggest… I’m just taking it from the top!”

“And I’m just teasing you,” she giggled.

“Zoe, if you want to perfect your shot, you should take it more seriously.”

For a split second, she almost felt embarrassed, but only for a second. Her sass was quick to return.

“And if you want me to perfect my shot, perhaps you should show me and just bark orders,” she goaded.

“Fine!”

She assumed he’d get into position, raise his bow, and pull the string with godlike precision. They’d watch his arrow fly through the air like the work of art it was until it hit his desired target… dead on. That’s what she thought would happen. Instead, she gasped silently when she felt his hands on her waist.

“Get into position,” he commanded, and her mind went numb.

Somehow, she managed to raise her bow. Her shirt rose a bit when she lifted her arms. Suddenly the sensation of the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the delicate skin took her breath away.

“Now, turn a little more. Just like this,” he instructed, twisting her the slightest bit to the side.

She wondered if he felt like she did right now, and if her heart wasn’t thumping, she would have felt his pounding against her back. For his part, being this close to her was doing things he hadn’t fully expected; the feeling was overwhelming. But Eli’s game face was unrivaled, and, despite the longing of every fiber of his being, he presented a somber, almost stone-like effect.

“Now, relax your knees….”

Was he kidding? If she relaxed her knees, she was quite confident she’d dissolve into a puddle at his feet.

“Right… relax…” she muttered. 

She was flustered, and he saw it. A chill ran throughout his body, and Eli was uncertain. Was he winning or losing?  

“Your shoulders should be a little more in line with your bow arm,” he began, “and you want to use your back muscles to aim….”

He hadn’t finished his sentence when her back muscles aimed for their intended target, lying flush against his chest. Neither of them could breathe, and if not for the sould of the gentle breeze rustling through the trees, they would have believed that time stood still. Each waiting, in silence….

“Try shooting,” he blurted. He had to say something.

And she did… instantly… without a single thought. The ping of her bow was followed by silence as her arrow flew through the air, ultimately falling to the ground. But Eli hadn’t moved at all, and neither had she.

“Well…” she stammered.  “That totally sucked.”

The two broke out into a fit of nervous laughter, still leaning in closer to one another when interrupted by an approaching voice.

“Eli! Zoe!” Angel called.

“Over here,” Zoe shot back. “What’s going on.”

“There’s a brawl breaking out in the kitchen,” Angel said breathlessly. “I don’t even know what it’s about. All I know is even Feather looked like he was ready to flip out.”

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Zoe chuckled.

“It’s not. That’s why Troy said I should go get you….”

“Oh, Troy sent you,” Eli sneered.

Angel scrunched her brow in confusion, “Uh.. yeah… I mean, is that a problem… or….”

“No, it’s not a problem at all,” Zoe said, gathering her things. “Let’s head back now.”

“Yeah,” Eli scoffed. “I’ll handle Troy later.”

The three made their way back to the lodge, with Angel running ahead. Trailing behind, Zoe looked up at Eli with a coquettish grin.

“Yes?” Eli acknowledged with a raised brow.

“I just think I was really getting it back there,” she grinned. “We’ll need to do it again soon. I think I’m perfecting my shot.”

“Really? I wouldn’t say that based on your last one,” he half-smiled.

“I don’t know,” she said, starting up the steps. “I think certain good things could be said about it.”

“Like what?

“Like….” Zoe opened the door, and they could hear the clamoring and chaos at once. “Oh, my….” She sighed.

“It’s probably best you tell me some other time…” he smiled. “It looks like you’re needed in the kitchen.”

“Me… needed in the kitchen,” she laughed. “Words I never thought I’d hear!”

“I’ve gotta admit,” he smirked. “Neither did I.  Perhaps I should join you.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want any cooking breaking out with me unattended.”

“Lead the way,” he grinned, “then when I’m done… I’ll handle Troy.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @fayeswiftie @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations

WTD: @cariantha @kyra75 @lilyoffandoms @missameliep

[bronx-bomber87]

We're off to episode 3 another fantastic one for our fav couple. Let's get started shall we?

2x03 The Bet

Tim and Lucy are getting ready to head out when she asks how his night was. Seems like an innocent enough question by her. So Tim is honest. Lucy's response is sassy to say the least. Being as comfortable as possible in its delivery. Tim isn't too happy with her reply. Let me say this, Lucy is the ONLY person Tim would ever allow to talk to him like this LOL No way in hell he would indulge anyone else to even broach the subject. But then no one else would have the guts to like Lucy either. She is always the exception for him.

Once again Lucy is doing it for his own good. To shake him out of his routine. Help him move on. Everything this woman ever does is in his best interest. Tim’s deep breath in the first gif when she starts up is so funny. Like he is bracing himself for whatever Lucy barrage is headed his way. He knows she is going to say something he doesn't want to hear LOL She tries to broach the subject lightly but is instantly shot down. Now he isn't mad so much as annoyed which is progress believe it or not haha

Lucy clams up pretty quickly after he mentions jogging behind the shop all day. Her face is hilarious. Lucy has learned to take her foot off the gas when need be. She opened the door a crack to this convo and shut it quickly. It’s like she pokes the bear gauges his reaction then strategizes for a bit on how to better approach him later. She is no where near done meddling in this matter.

We rejoin them at the station booking a couple of sex workers. This is where Lucy decides to bring this subject up once again. The lack of personal space in this scene is primo. Personal space? Never heard of her.... I love it so much. My goodness they are awfully close to one another in this scene hehe She sees this as her window and is right back at it. Lucy is saying she thinks she can help him. He looks at her like she’s insane. But he allows her to continue. Almost bemused at her confidence to set him up properly. It becomes a point of pride for Lucy. The more he seems to doubt her the more she wants to prove him wrong. What else is new? Haha

This quickly goes from setting him up to a work flirt. I mean look at those two above. They're not subtle in the least...All their work flirts stem from challenging one another. This whole situation goes from helping Tim go out on a date to a competition. Because well it’s them LOL They’re both so damn competitive...That’s literally what this entire thing boils down to. Both of them digging in their heels and not relenting. Thinking they're right and the other is in the wrong.

Tim has grown a lot I keep saying but it’s true and I'm just so proud of him. Last season Tim wouldn’t have allowed Lucy anywhere near his personal/love life. Let alone make a bet about it with her. They’re both SO cocky and confident they’re going to win as well. They decide on the the winner's spoils. For Tim he gets 50 push ups after each call. Lucy gets the short sleeves she was robbed of.

Tim agrees and says she has to pay if he does this. Lucy doesn’t even care and hastily agrees to this. Just wants so badly to be in short sleeves. These two are ridiculous fools and I love them for it. Also the way Lucy looks at him after they make their bet above is so cute. Little smitten kitten this one. As I've said before as transparent as glass. She is so adorable in how she looks at him. If he looked next to him he would see the heart eyes being lodged his way. Also lets pay back attention to the lack of space. *sigh* I just love them so much.

Tim does what he does best. Getting under Lucy’s skin as much as possible. In a way only he knows how. Since Lucy is paying he’s taking Rachel to most expensive restaurant possible. He's such a shit haha I adore him though. The work flirt continues. We haven’t had one in a bit this definitely constitutes as one. Tim going on about the expensive food and wine. You can see the irritation all over her face. Eric and Melissa are masters at conveying so much with a look. Right now she wants to shove him off that chair.

Lucy is trying to turn it back in her favor. Saying how romantic it is. That he wouldn't have chosen that if he wanted his date to fail. Their banter is unrivaled. I enjoy their verbal sparring so much. Tim is ever so cocky of course. He thinks he has this in the bag. That Lucy is destined to stay in long sleeves till her probation is up. Well if he has anything to do with it she will.

He is more excited at the prospect of Lucy doing those push-ups and winning this bet than the date itself. Oh Timothy. His damn cute smile in that last gif though above. Lord help me. I swear he only smiles that way with her. Amazing the amount of chemistry these two have without even touching. Testament to how good it is.

I don’t know what’s funnier. The fact that Lucy is casing his date or that she dragged Jackson along for it LMAO Kills me. ‘Mama needs to get into short sleeves’ I’m dying haha Also Jackson telling her how weird this is. I loved their friendship so much. Down to do and help each other with whatever.

Tim crashing and burning on this date is too funny. He needs an ice breaker. What does he do to rectify the situation? Brings up his work wife. Yes baby, that’ll fix the current train wreck you have going on. Smh. He does look damn good though. Feast for the eyes and all that. I will say I did like Rachel. She was the perfect person to get him back into the dating world. A Lucy 2.0 you could say. Because she challenges him and calls him on his crap too. I mean look at that second gif. Got him to go from saying Chen to Lucy with a pointed look.

I like Rachel for what she represented for him. Showing him he could have a functional relationship post Isabel. I think she was very important in shaping Tim into who he becomes in that regard. I hope this doesn’t sound as mean as it may come off. Rachel was a means to an end for Chenford. A good one but one none the less. Serious enough to show Tim he was capable of that again but not enough that he would leave LA for it.(But that’s much farther in the future for s2.) I will say I do love what Rachel does for him in the long run. I didn’t hate their scenes by any means. They had their purpose. I.e. Lucy who will eventually win this bet as we will see later on.

Lucy and Jackson continue to watch the date. It looks like Tim is flailing and Rachel is off put. Tim admits the bet he has with Lucy. That he wants to win. Rachel flirts and says being with her isn't a win? Then they start to click a bit. Tim says he can help Rachel with her civil standbys. She asks what he’d like in return? Tim being Tim knows Lucy is watching. Has Rachel slap him in the face and leave. Lucy is crushed and convinced she will be in long sleeves the rest of her probationary period haha

Oh Lucy you know why you care if Tim dates LOL Just last episode you recorded an old ass book for this man. But it is far too early for you to understand the true meaning of those actions just yet. She cares so much and is so empathetic. She will do things to her own detriment. Like this date haha Jackson’s reply is the best though. ‘You just want everyone to be happy. That’s a good quality’ He was such a good friend. ❤️

I love that Lucy couldn’t stand the idea of Rachel thinking badly of Tim. So she made sure early the next morning to visit her and rectify that. Almost like she couldn't move on with her day until she did this. That even if they didn’t work out romantically, she had to come and defend Tim to her. Lucy has seen his good side more than anyone else. To her there is no one better to defend his name than her. So that’s exactly what she did. Gah I love it. She’s so loyal.

Lucy looks down and sees a pair of boots. Then Tim does his glorious entrance. A shot we all love let's be honest. He's all wet from the shower and in a low hanging towel. Phew lord. Lucy looks a little thirsty at first. Then she turns her brain back on. (I can’t blame her girl I'm thirsty from seeing him too ahaha) Lucy confidently looks him in the eye and says ‘Short sleeves’ then takes off with a glorious smile and stride out of Rachel's place and back to her car.

Tim is so mad he’s lost this bet he doesn’t even care Lucy is seeing him in a towel. Or the fact that he’s there cause he spent the night with her friend. He’s more annoyed she won the bet LOL Classic. He thought he was going to have his cake and eat it too. Sorry Tim that’s a hard no haha This ep was one big work flirt for them both and I loved it.

~~~~~

Side notes- Meh didn’t really have much. Was cool to have couple Castle peeps on the show Seamus and Jon retuning. And Wopez was cute with his mom and stuff but nothing major. Jackson' SL with Smitty was really good tragic but good.

Forgot to thank everyone last review my apologies. Always so very thankful to those that like/comment (I adore comments)/ reblog and such you all are the best. :)