#if I should add more trigger warnings; please let me know

[soundcrusher]

How Hot Rod accidentally took over the Decepticons and became Rodimus

Hah, I did it! I finally finished this mess of a story!

And, honestly, it's pretty serious, until the end. Then it becomes somewhat weird.

Either way, @ut-girl666 and @gaybot-showdown, I hope the both of you will love this.

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Hot Rod should have listened to Kup when he told him to stand back and let Optimus deal with Megatron himself. The tank was his former friend turned enemy after all, but did that stop the young speedster from running towards the two and distract Megatron by engaging into a duel with him when the prime as down? No, it didn’t, and in hindsight, it was still a better idea than letting Megatron kill their leader.

Still, Hot Rod should have done something else, because then he wouldn’t be pinned down underneath Megatron. With the warlord’s weight slowly crushing him as if he was nothing more than a bug. And the worst part? There was no-one who could help him. Not with the Decepticons keeping everyone away, because apparently, if the leader is challenged to a duel, it means that no-one is allowed to interrupt. Something Hot Rod found ridiculous, because everyone’s interrupting Optimus and Megatron when they’re fighting together. What makes his fight with the warlord different?

What the frag did he do, when he yelled, “Hey, buckethead! You, me, one on one! Now!” Was that some kind of codeword for ‘I’m-gonna-kill-that-one-myself”? Or did it mean something else? Maybe he should have listened to Kub when he was explaining some of the Decepticons rules and such, but the lesson was rather boring and Hot Rod had better things to do. There was a race… and he wanted to go racing, not learn about ‘Decepticon’s rules of combat 101’.

Either way, he shouldn’t think about what was, but rather how he’s going to get out of this situation without dying or damaging anything. Which is easier said than done, because Megatron had him pinned and was about to dig his digits into Hot Rod’s optics, when the younger mech remembered his flames. And before Megatron could end his live for good, Hot Rod grabbed his opponent’s arm, giving the warlord a defying glare, before letting his frame heat up. Making sure that Megatron couldn’t escape him until his frame set itself on fire. Burning the tankformer and causing him to let go of the speedster.

But before Megatron could recover, let alone counter Hot Rod’s fiery attack, the smaller mech was already grabbing for the blaster laying near them and fired one shot. A shot that went straight through the warlords spark and caused everyone fighting to stop, as the shock of what happened settled in. At least, until a shrill shriek pierced the eery stillness that has spread across the battlefield.

“MEGATRON HAS FALLEN, I, STARSCREAM, AM NOW THE LEADER OF THE DECEPTICONS!” Although, as the flier landed and looked over his ‘new subjects’, none of them paid him any attention. No. All their optics were directed at the trembling mech who ended Megatron and was currently aiming his blaster at any Decepticon trying to come closer to him.

“Stay back! I’m not afraid to shoot again!” Screamed Hot Rod, and much to his surprise, the Decepticons stopped walking closer. Which the young speedster took as his chance to transform and drive off. Although, he didn’t make it far, because the Constructicons quickly transformed into Devastator and simply picked up the, by now, flailing Autobot at Soundwaves command. “Hey! But me down Decepticreep! I’m not a toy car for you to play with!” But the big mech wouldn’t listen and simply held Hot Rot like a misbehaving robo-kitten, while the smaller mech was doing his best to kick at the giants servo, not caring about if he would fall or not.

And while Devastator was making sure Hot Rod wouldn’t escape, Starscream was in a one-sided screaming match with Soundwave. Demanding to know what the cassette player meant when he said that he, Starscream, was not the new leader of the Decepticons, but rather that stupid Autobot with the obnoxious paint job. To which Soundwave simply shook his head, before commanding the Decepticons to retreat back to Austrotrain and return to Cybertron. Together with the kicking and screaming Autobot, who was quickly tossed into the waiting dripple changer and restrained by Hook and Mixmaster, after Devastator disengaged and turned back into the Constructicons.

And after the last Decepticons made it into Astrotrain, the shuttle took off, while the Autobots could do nothing but stare on and wonder what exactly happened that made them take one of their own and ditch the deactivated remains of their former leader. Something one of the Decepticons took a picture off, because seeing Optimus Prime with his optics as wide as saucers and Ultra Magnus with his jaw on the floor was just too good.

Although, the mood was quickly ruined as the remaining Decepticons started to fight amongst each other, because half of them couldn’t believe that an Autobot defeated Megatron and had a claim to the position of leader, while the other half stood behind their rules. Especially Soundwave and Starscream were at each other’s throats and ready to defend their opinions, when Astrotrain informed them that they might not make it to Cybertron if they didn’t lose and ballast. And with Starscream being Starscream, he suggested to throw out those who were already on their best way to the AllSpark. However, before anyone could grab anyone from the injured, Hot Rod decided to speak up.

“You can’t throw them out.” Said the speedster, while his spoiler lowered ever so slightly in discomfort as everyone stared at him. “I mean… yes, our chances are higher if we ‘dispose’ of them, but they’re your comrades. You CAN’T throw them out, just because they’re hurt.”

“Oh, really now? Didn’t you hear Astrotrain? We’re going to die ourselves if we don’t get rid of the useless ones.” Countered Starscream with one of his insufferable smirks, as he walked closer to the bound Autobot with the intend to throw him out first, but he was stopped by Soundwave. Who was glaring at the second in command through his visor. “Observation: Autobot defeated Megaton in a duel. Conclusion: Autobot new leader. Suggestion: Starscream follows orders.”

“As if I would ever take the order of an insufferable Autobot who knows nothing about us and our faction!” Seethed the seeker, but the communications officer did not move from his spot. Rather, he started to slowly push Starscream back, before addressing the rest of the Decepticons, while Hot Rod is left to bonder on what to do next. Kup might have thought him a few things, but never has he prepared him for this kind of situation. And he doubted that anyone from the Autobots would send someone to rescue him.

Not with them having to deal with the mess Megatron’s troops have caused.

Well, at least he didn’t have to help with the repairs. That was one positive thing in all of this, but the situation was still very bad for him. Especially with Soundwave looking his way every time he tried to move a little bit. And then there were the ones Starscream would have thrown out. They kept on staring at him, as if they owed him something or were expecting him to change his mind after all. So, Hot Rod’s only option was waiting and seeing where this was going. Then again, this whole mess could have turned out worse than he ever expected. But, to his surprise, it didn’t.

And after landing on Cybertron, Hot Rod was forced to learn everything he needed to know as the new leader of the Decepticons. Which not only included how to tell apart each of the Seekers, but also things he was sure not even Optimus had to deal with.

Like, making sure that Starscream wouldn’t poison his energon or make sure a certain big lipped mech wouldn’t go on a needless killing spree. Truly, Hot Rod, who was more known by his new name “Rodimus” by now, had his servos full and it often didn’t leave him any time for his own personal live or hobbies. At least Hook took him fishing sometimes and Soundwave always made sure that he was okay. And then there were all the others he slowly managed to befriend. Like Thundercracker and Skywarp. Which didn’t really come as a surprise to him because they were rather pissed at Starscream for trying to throw them out.

Although, there was also those who still liked him, but utterly unsettled Hot Rod. Like the Insecticons. Hot Rod was sure that the only reason they stayed with him was because he also kept them from being discarded like yesterday’s garbage. And then there was the whole situation with that masked mech. Yea, Hot Rod always made a big circle around that one or backtracked entirely whenever he was close.

However, being liked by some Decepticons and having most of the commanders behind him didn’t mean that there weren’t those who still hated the fact that a former Autobot was now leading them. And next to Starscream’s murder attempts, Hot Rod also had to deal with Decepticons walking up to him and challenging him to a duel. Luckily, he never had to take more than one, but it was still tiring. Especially with the peace treaty meetings he had to attend and that seemed to have dragged on for years now.

Speaking of which, he was currently attending one with Soundwave, Starscream and two other mechs he kind of forgot the names of. Although, one was definitely named something with Lock? Honestly, Hot Rod has never met that guy before and frankly, with the way Lock kept on staring at him right now, he was kind of happy about it. How did Megatron deal with him, or all the other weirdly bloodthirsty Cybertronians in his army?

“Hot Rod, what do you think of our propositions?” Asked none other than Optimus Prime, and Hot Rod found himself groaning internally at having to answer him.

“The name’s Rodimus now, Prime, I thought I told you that before.” Said the young leader, as he grabbed the data-pad containing the peace treaty. Although, he was quick to drop it as soon as he saw that his, and in extend his factions suggestions, weren’t accepted into the newest version. “Seriously? You guys didn’t even once think about adding the stuff we worked hard to compile? Do you know how long it took to actually get everyone to work together?!”

Hot Rod knew that looking impatient or angry wasn’t the best look for a leader, but quite frankly? He didn’t give two fucks about what Optimus, nor the other Autobots thought of him. They lost their rights to judge him the second he heard some of them call him a traitor for joining a faction he never intended to lead. “Like, it was already hard to get their respect, and even now I don’t have it fully. So, them opening up to actually give me suggestions on what they want in this is a huge step!”

“I can imagen Hot… Rodimus. But I cannot allow gladiatorial matches to continue, even if they have limitations and fixer rules than before. Let alone pardon Decepticons who committed crimes.” Optimus looked at the young speedster, searching for understanding, but finding none. No, Hot Rod only grew angrier at the prime before him.

“As if Autobots have never committed crimes!” This time it was Starscream who spoke up, and Hot Rod nodded in agreement.

“Also,” started the young leader, as he folded his servos before him and looked at every Autobot. Giving them a look, he learned while playing a game of earth poker against the Stunticons. “Let’s not forget of who the Autobots and Decepticons are mostly made up. You and everyone attending this meeting knows exactly what I mean, Prime. So, I suggest you better rework the treaty with our suggestions in it before you call me again.”

And with that said, Hot Rod stood up and left the meeting together with his entourage. Keeping up the appearance of a confident leader, but the second they were back on their ship and in their meeting room, Hot Rod quickly collapsed into the nearest chair. Whole frame shaking from the anxiety he felt before and during his talk with Optimus. However, there was also a sense of accomplishment because he just talked with Optimus, fragging, Prime as if he was nothing more than a co-worker with whom he had a simple disagreement. That counted as a win, right? Well, at least it felt like a win to Hot Rod.

But his mental victory parade came to a screeching halt, as he remembered that he wasn’t alone. So, Hot Rod quickly sat back up straight and motioned for everyone present to take a seat. And even as the one named Lock remained standing, the young leader insisted on him to take a seat. “Come on, everyone’s sitting. You should sit too.” Said Hot Rod with one of his winning grins, which only grew wider as Lock finally sat down. Only then did he start the small meeting where they discussed the new developments on the peace treaty and how the meeting with Optimus generally went.

Which gave Starscream another great opportunity to insult Hot Rod, because their young leader, despite having lived with the Decepticons for some years now, was still a former Autobot. And while the second in command started to go on a small rant about how the failures of their peace treaty was clearly Hot Rod’s fault, the former Autobot found himself slowly sinking in on himself. He really did mess up, didn’t he?

Yes, he did manage to get a shaky cease fire between the factions, but apparently, he was doing a really bad job with everything else. And Starscream’s words didn’t hep him either. So, to get his second in command’s attention, Hot Rod slammed his servos down on the conference table and stood up as small flames danced over his arms.

“Okay, I get it. You’re not happy with me being the leader, and you’re not happy with the peace treaty taking so long, but we already have a cease fire. A shaky one, yes, but we have it and I swear on my spark, if you do anything to ruin that, I will personally see to it that someone else is getting your position as my second!” Seethed the young leader. And Starscream was quick to answer, as he himself jumped up. Mimicking Hot Rod by slamming his own servos down on the table, just minus the flames.

“You can’t do that! I’M the second in command of this army, you can’t just take my position and give it to someone else! Who would you even give it to?!” Screeched the seeker.

“I don’t know.” Answered Hot Rod honestly, before a playful smirk formed on his lips, as he crossed his arms over his chestplates while cocking an optic ridge. “But I’m sure that I can find someone. There are enough candidates after all. Like Overlord. I bet he would be a WONDERFUL second in command. He’s quite the politician, isn’t he?”

“YOU WOULD GIVE MY POSITION TO THAT BRUTE!?”

“Oh? He isn’t to your liking? Then how about Shockwave, or maybe I should ask Thrust? I bet he would LOVE to have your job.” Chuckled the young leader, before quickly dodging a shot coming from Starscream. “Alright, alright. You convinced me. I’ll give your job to… hmmm… Lock over there!” And with that said, Hot Rod quickly ran out of the meeting room. Transforming as soon as he was in the halls and speeding off towards his favourite spot on the ship, while listening to Starscream’s offended screeches and Soundwave’s attempts to calm the raging seeker.

Although, something that confused Hot Rod greatly was the sound of another Cybertronian coming after him, or better said, following him as if they were his bodyguard. And low and behold, there was the mech named Something-lock following and keeping up with him. He even seemed to get closer with each second, and the fiery speedster found himself unable to shake his pursuer.

So, he gave up trying, even if he didn’t want to lead Something-lock towards the only spot where he could ever get some peace for himself. Which was basically a simple storage room big enough for two mechs to fight in, but Hot Rod decorated to look and be a lot more comfortable.

And as his pursuer walked into the room, the red speedster was already flopping down on a bean bag chair Soundwave got for him. Kicking his pedes up and resting them on the wonky coffee table he made from some empty oil barrels and an old metal door.

“You know, usually when I leave a meeting like that, I DON’T want to be followed. Hasn’t Soundwave told you that?” Asked Hot Rod, as he pulled out a data-pad from his sup-space and started to read some of the reports on it, before throwing it on the coffee table and groaning. He already did enough work today, Soundwave surely can’t expect him to do more.

Although, he was quick to sit up straight as he saw Something-lock pick up the data-pad and read over it himself. Still with that same and stoic expression he had during their attempt at making a peace treaty with the Autobots and their meeting afterwards. Although, Hot Rod soon enough could spot a small smirk on his unwelcomed guest, and it made him vary.

Usually, Decepticons only got those smirks when thinking about attacking someone, or shortly before he had to duck and roll out of harm’s way. But it seemed like Hot Rod’s worries weren’t needed, because Something-lock started to laugh, after finishing the reports.

“You really beat up Overlord with a metal bat?”

“I… ehm… yea?” Okay, Hot Rodd was confused. Like, seriously confused, because he was expecting the other to attack him, not commend on one of his duels. “Granted, the metal bat only came after I already did some damage with my fire, and I didn’t really ‘beat him up’. I just… hit him with it? But don’t ask me how I did it because I have no idea. According to my own calculations, I should have lost. Like, I shouldn’t even be here right now. I should be a smudge on the ground, or worse.”

“But you still did it.” Stated Lock, before sitting down cross legged on the other side of the coffee table. “Not many can say that they managed to survive one of Overlord’s fights, let alone beat him… with a metal bat.”

Hot Rod couldn’t help but groan. He specifically told Soundwave that this duel shouldn’t be as well documented as the others. Not only because he feared of what his challenger would do, if he found out that everyone could read up about their fight, but also because it wasn’t a big deal. There were many he had to duel with, especially at the start of his leadership, and it wasn’t anything special.

And yet, he could see the interest in Lock’s optics and that small, curved up smirk as he commented on how modesty didn’t suit a Decepticon leader. Which in return got another groan from Hot Rod, as he got up from his bean bag and walked over to a big chest. “If I show you the bat, will you drop the issue and leave it be?” He asked, and found himself repressing yet another groan as soon as he saw Lock’s smirk.

“Maybe?

“Well… good enough for me.” Was all the speedster said, as he pulled out a hot pink metal bat littered with small white flowers and the face of a cat with a bow. And dangling from the hilt of the bat by a chain was the exact same bat, only human sized. “Here, this is it, the weapon.”

“… Why is there a cat on it and how did you get that?” Asked Lock, and Hot Rod blinked at him slowly, before shaking his head. “It’s Hello Kitty, a very popular little cat and… I got it from a human child who’s very dear to me. Well, I got the small bat from him as a joke, and Soundwave got me the bigger one, after seeing it.”

“And you decided to keep it, because?”

“Because they were gifts from my friends. I would never throw away something I got from them.” Was all he said, as he put the bat back in its place, before returning to his own. And after that, it was quiet. But not in an uncomfortable way, but rather something aching to what it was like when Hot Rod spend time with his Autobot friends. Which got him thinking about the past years and how much he’s missing out by being here, rather than with them.

Although, even if he went back now, Hot Rod doubts that he would even be welcomed. His former friends and comrades made it clear that they didn’t trust him anymore, and if that’s how it is, then Hot Rod… no… Rodimus didn’t need them.

“By the why, what’s your name? I didn’t really catch it when you showed up.”

“Deadlock.”

“Nice to meet you Deadlock, I’m Rodimus.”

[brightstarblogs]

Yuma Month Day 15: Fear

This is the most angsty piece I've done for this month! This is fanart for Lee-The-Bean on AO3 (If anyone knows if they have a Tumblr let me know) for their fic 'Family Where You Least Expect It' which is a very heavy hurt/comfort fic. Worth a read but please be mindful of the tags.

I love this fic a lot and was so happy to use this prompt to draw something from it. This is the best NDA found family fic in my opinion! It's so good! There's a reason it's the most kudos fic in the fandom!

[heliosoll]

I received some comments on an old post about respawning so once again I'd like to explain my stance on it.

I support respawning. I don't care if you want to respawn, literally go ahead. I have a guide in my pinned on how to respawn and a post about the difference between respawning and permashifting if you'd like to try it. There are also other resources out there, just be careful about misinformation.

However, and I believe this is where the confusion starts, I don't support suicide. At all. Please understand how upsetting it is to get asks and comments from people detailing their trauma and how they want to kill themselves. It's not fun. I will not help someone commit. I'm not going to be part of that and if someone tells me they want to, then yes, I will try to dissuade them and give them alternatives.

Respawning does not equal suicide. You can respawn without committing. You can completely forget this reality without committing. You can completely detach your consciousness from this reality without committing. Everything you want to do, you can do without committing.

And again, you can also completely change your life and make it better. This blog is about manifesting and shifting, of course I'm going to tell people they can change things. You can literally respawn and then script/intend that your previous life is 100% better. There's a "solution" for every problem you could think of. Suicide is not necessary to respawn and I'm never going to tell people that they should do it.

Listen, my life wasn't perfect before I got into shifting and manifesting. I won't say exactly what, but I've been through things and I did consider respawning through death for a very long time. I'm telling you now that it's not worth it. Every single reason you have has an alternative solution that doesn't involve hurting yourself. And please, don't come at me with the "painless death" thing - emotional pain counts too. People consider suicide because they think it's the quickest thing that will get them out. They don't consider that every other "method" is also quick and instant. It's not necessary, I will never tell people how to do it, and I'd appreciate it if people stopped telling very emotionally distraught people that they need to commit to have a better life. I don't know how you think that helps more, but it doesn't.

[50000bears]

Violence Murder Destruction

[faevi]

TABOO LOVE. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: Your parents & Geto Suguru are visiting you & Satoru’s new apartment. You’re nervous about having to keep such a big secret. You’re step-siblings & your parents thought it was such a wonderful idea to share an apartment in a new city. Good thing Satoru helps you relax. Before & after their visit.

Word Count: 18,762.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), dark content, STEPCEST (step-siblings), STEPBRO!gojo, daddy kink, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, blowjob, face-fucking, breath-play (via cock), choking, unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, cowgirl position, creampie, cock-warming, spanking (impact play), dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, hickeys, marking someone, bruises, pain, dacryphilia, crying, big dick gojo, stomach bulging, cum denial, multiple orgasms, a stressful dinner with the fam(?), hiding a taboo secret, jealousy, everything is consensual, tit slapping, body worshipping, possessiveness, suguru is here too!!! not really a warning but if it piques people's interest, suguru temporarily shows interest in you, too.

I think that’s it?? Please let me know (kindly) if I accidentally missed anything and I’ll add it!

Note: Obviously please take note that this is dark content and contains something that is taboo - being step-siblings. Aka stepcest. Don't read if you don't like it (: It’s not just 18k words of smut, I did actually write the dinner scene, which was kind of rough to write basically 5 characters at once kldfjgdf. Instead of the usual 2. I haven’t edited this and yet again, not my best writing but, I hope people will still read and enjoy it ; - ;. Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru could hear your anxious footsteps throughout the entire apartment, hand cupping his cheek as his elbow rested against the edge of the couch, watching you with slight amusement as you moved from room to room. He’s not as worried as you are about the upcoming scenario that will play out. Satoru clears his throat before calling out.

“Baby, just come and relax. Sit with your ever-so-handsome boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder in the direction of his voice, choking on a strangled laugh at his words before head whipping around to double-check the set of drawers in the shared bedroom. The photo frames aren’t there. Good. Instead, just a cluttered mess of Satoru’s belongings. That was your idea.

“You should probably start calling yourself my stepbrother again, for practice. Don’t want you slipping up.” You couldn’t help but whine out dramatically, footsteps thumping down the hallway until you’re back in sight of Satoru. You stand there for a moment, gazing at him. Satoru’s eyebrow raises, hand extending out towards you.

Your boyfriend— Also known as your stepbrother, doesn’t seem nervous at all. In a couple of hours, your parents are visiting for dinner. Both of you were lucky enough to claim excuses to move to another city about a year ago and it’s been perfect. Your excuse was university and Satoru’s was work. Your parents didn’t even question sharing an apartment when it was noted that there were two bedrooms. Just being friendly roommates as well as step-siblings. It was way, way more than that to the pair of you. Deep down in your teenage years, you were always attracted to your stepbrother and desperately tried to be in denial. Until that one fateful night where you ended up in his arms after drunk-possessive sex; learning that he felt the same way towards you. That is a story for another time; feeling too stressed out to think fondly of your first time with your stepbrother.

Now there is no more hiding behind closed doors. Able to hold each other’s hands. Go on public dates. Lots of public affection— That was definitely a pleasant surprise to learn that Satoru is a sucker to hold onto you in public and not be ashamed. Even mutual friends from the city are utterly oblivious to your ‘history’ outside of dating. It’s impossible to just cut your family outright. Especially when love and good relationships are tightly bound. You still want your family. It’s just… Satoru was more than that. Good thing you both just have to be quiet about your passionate love affair, away from family and old friends.

“Y/N, snap out of it and just sit on my lap already. There’s nothing to worry about.” Satoru attempts to reassure you as he reaches out for you, fingers twitching with eagerness to touch you. He loves touching you. Can never get enough. His large hands manage to grab you by your hips and pull you in close. You prevent him from pulling you directly onto his lap, hand against his toned chest.

“How are you not nervous? Worried, even? Our parents are coming in about five hours and you’re just sitting there being all—“

“All?” Satoru asks, lips forming a playful grin as his fingers caress your hips, loving the sight of you squirming and pathetically trying to pull his hands off of your body. He knows your body craves him. All the time. Since day one or even before that day.

“Cute.” You sigh with feign annoyance and collapse onto his lap, unable to resist the comfort that is Gojo Satoru. His arms wrap around you and pull you with ease until you’re slumped against his upper body, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I am nervous, I just don’t see the logic of being your kind of nervous.” He jokes lightly, ignoring the jab of your elbow. Even dating, you both still have the habit of the bickering, playful sibling moments you developed through the teenage years of knowing each other. Not many years apart, in his defence. Not even blood-related. Didn’t /exactly/ grow up together. You met him when he was already in his upper teenage years. Those are the excuses he’d try to use if anyone found out and showed disgust. Satoru may have been protective of you when you were younger and still going through high school but, he never really viewed you as a close sister or anything. He cared for you but, in his eyes; His father and your mother ended up together. You were just there, ready to cause havoc and have him fall for you.

“They’re just staying for dinner, alright? We can handle that much. Sit opposite of each other and do that typical sibling shit.” He reassures, long fingers playing with a few strands of your pretty hair. He always liked your hair. You bury your face against the side of his neck and inhale deeply, wishing you could just soak in everything that is him. “But, I hate doing that. I came here to get away from it and to be with you properly. As lovers.” You confess quietly, voice shaking. Satoru’s face softens from hearing your words. Usually, people think he can’t be serious. Friends often joke about him not having a serious bone in his body. They’re all wrong. You know the real Satoru, every shade of him. His hand comes down to tenderly stroking along your back, pressing multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“I know, baby girl. It always feels close to impossible and I want to just kiss you whenever I want, without having to worry. It’s just sometimes, we have to go back to what we originally were— siblings. Step-siblings.” He corrects himself swiftly, nails grazing your back lightly. Not blood-related and never will be. “It won’t be every day, Y/N. Just a couple of times a year, maximum. Just for a few hours, okay?” He says in his low voice, feeling you relax into him.

You hate to admit that he’s right. It’s even a miracle that this is the first time your parents are visiting this year and they won’t be for Christmas. You should look at this as luck. You can do this. Just for a few hours. You’re beyond nervous about everything and sure, wish you could hold his hand over the dining table but… You can do this. Both of you can. You sniffle quietly, tilting your head to look at the wall, still clinging onto the white-haired male who easily towers above you, even when sitting. “Okay... There’s nothing that screams us being a couple out in the open, right? All tucked away?”

Satoru playfully rolls his eyes, fingers curling around your chin to gently coax you to look up at him. “Everything is hiding, even my monster-sized condoms. So they can think their charming son gets zero action at all.” Satoru adds jokingly, enjoying the sight of your expression twisting and smacking his chest. “Rather they think that than you fucking someone that isn’t me.” You grumble quietly, leaning in to bump your nose against his. “Ah-ah, Y/N. You know how I feel when you show your jealous side. Better watch your mouth before I fuck it and get cum stains on the couch from there being too much of my seed for you to swallow.” Satoru teases, feeling rather endeared that you made no rejection of ‘monster-sized’. To you, he’s so huge that you can’t even deny that. Satoru leans in to press his lips against yours eagerly; desperate to get his fill before the nerve-wracking night begins.

Every sensible thought went right out of the window as you responded to the kiss with your own eagerness. Hands coming up to cup his cheeks as your body presses against his, fitting against him perfectly like soulmates. You belong to him, thinking so when he’s able to leave you so breathless and your head spinning just from a single kiss. His soft tiers move against yours, slowly devouring you. His finger presses against the underside of your chin to keep your head in place, wanting to take his sweet time with you. The white-haired male’s other hand glides down to boldly grope your ass cheek, easily coaxing out a needy whimper from you.

“Nn, wait— We can’t, mmf..” You try to stop Satoru from going any further, but words fall on deaf ears. His long fingers splay out across your ass cheek, roughly tugging on the thin fabric that acts as a shield. “I don’t fucking care about making a mess, baby. We have plenty of time. Let Daddy ease your nerves, hm? Don’t you want Daddy to take care of you?” Satoru whispers hotly against your ear between deep breaths, firm hands pushing you further down against his crotch, cock already throbbing. It isn’t about him, though. Satoru wants to help you relax and he knows that his fingers alone can make you melt and keen for him.

Your head already starts to feel fuzzy and warm. People would probably tell you that you’re going to hell if they knew that you call, not only your boyfriend but your stepbrother; Daddy. Neither of you cared. It just felt right between you both. “Can we at least move to the bedroom?” You plead softly, feeling two of his digits drag along the wet patch that forms on your shorts. “Y/N, you’re so fucking filthy. Already getting so wet just from me fondling your ass and kissing you? You’re soaked.”

The humiliation drives you further, embarrassed as a hand clamps tightly over your mouth to muffle the sounds that dare to escape as the two fingers continue to drag up and down slowly. Satoru always enjoys humiliating you. He can be quite sadistic and the only one who can handle him is you. Still, Satoru isn’t /too/ evil and still prefers you to feel comfort and so he lifts you with ease, carrying you down the hallway, hand soothingly rubbing along your back once more. Your arms and legs wrap around his tall form, clinging to him so tightly. Satoru just finds it cute. It’s even cuter when you hug his arm, breasts cushioning either side as you try not to act jealous of a girl hitting on him. If only you knew that no girl could ever even compete with you. He’ll always be your lover and stepbrother. The world doesn’t matter to his selfish heart.

From a height, Satoru just drops you onto the bed that you both share, laughing at the sight of your playful glare, body bouncing from the mattress. The sight of his wide grin is more than enough to ease your mind. You love this man. “Shall I grab the camera and take some photos? Plaster them all across the walls for our parents to see?” He jokes, hand instantly grabbing a hold of your ankle and you move to kick him. “I’m supposed to be the bratty one, Satoru.” You say breathlessly, feeling his large hands tenderly massaging up your leg. He leans down to press a kiss to your ankle, bright blue eyes focused on your face. “You are the brat and I can easily put you in place. Babbling like a crybaby as your ass throbs. My sweet crybaby. All mine. Let me focus on making my girl feel good.”

Satoru gently drops your leg before he easily manhandles your body until you’re resting against the pillows, hands firmly keeping your quivering legs apart as he starts to lower himself to the ground, just at the edge of the bed. “W-Wait! Maybe we should— get a towel, or something.. So we don’t make a mess.. They’ll explore, I know they will.” You mumble out shyly, yelping from the pleasant sting of pain that spreads through your inner thigh, glancing down to see Satoru’s hand now soothing the pain. “Stop worrying. We have plenty of time.” He attempts to reassure you, though far too distracted by his lust to properly calm you down. Selfish? Maybe. Satoru just knows that you will end up relaxing and even chasing for more of his touch.

Making sure you’re close enough, Satoru wraps his arms around your quivering thighs to hoist you towards him, dragging your body across the neatly made bed before his face is buried against your cunt, inhaling the scent of your sex deeply. You whimper softly, shifting yourself onto your elbows to see the gorgeous sight you’ll never be able to forget. Your stepbrother between your legs. The white-haired male looks up at you from beneath his white lashes, tongue flat as he drags it teasingly along your covered folds, knowing that you’re only wearing booty shorts that are already soaking through. Your breath hitches from feeling the fabric rough against your sensitive clit, biting down on your lip in a pathetic attempt to silence yourself.

“Don’t,” Satoru warns, nipping at your inner thigh. “Our parents aren’t here yet, I want to hear you.” He says, unwrapping his arms around your thighs and hooking his long fingers beneath the elastic band of your shorts. You couldn’t help but huff, looking off to the side and your teeth not holding your lower lip anymore. You wouldn’t dare disobey him. “What if they decide to surprise us and arrive early?” You question anxiously, though not stopping as Satoru guides your legs up so he can tug your flimsy pair of shorts up the length of them. “Then they’ll see their son eating out their beloved daughter and enjoying every moment of it.” He states and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Step..” You hastily add, flustered. Though, you couldn’t deny that deep down the thought of being caught with him is so arousing and Satoru knows that. You’ve often gotten riled up by his filthy words about potentially getting caught. Satoru’s large hands grip your inner thighs to force them open and you drop your upper body back down to the bed, a hand coming to cover up your face and Satoru eagerly takes the pretty sight in. Your needy pussy coated in your juices already, giving it a light sheen beneath the bedroom light and looking even more enticing. “Fuck, you’re dripping so much. Even anxious, you won’t ever stop thinking of Daddy’s cock.” The white-haired male states, soft lips curling up to form a grin.

His humiliating words just go straight to your cunt, hands covering your flustered face. You could practically feel how wet you are just by shifting your body and Satoru wastes no more time. Arms back around your thighs to hold them in place, he dives forward to press a sloppy kiss to your slick-covered folds and dragging his long tongue through them, groaning happily as your sweetness already begins to fill his mouth. Tasting the juice always reminds him of the first time he got to taste his stepsister’s pussy and that he refused to turn back ever since. You belong to him now and he’ll eat you out any chance he can get. He’s a lover of it and always leaves you stunned because what kind of man loves to eat a girl out?

Gojo Satoru. That’s the kind of man. Beyond addicted to it as his tongue continues to hungrily lap up your slick and you whimper loudly, hands gripping onto the blanket beneath you as your body already trembles from the pleasure that surges through you, directly from your hot core. “D-Daddy..” You stutter out softly, impatience starting to form as Satoru continues to take his sweet time; just his tongue sliding up and down between your folds, not even touching where you truly want to feel his tongue. Satoru hums, already reading your mind, but doesn’t relent. No one tells him what to do, especially you… Well, when it comes to being between your legs. He’ll happily oblige for anything else.

Time seems to tick by, your taste permanent on his tongue and with one final swipe of his tongue, he finally pushes in a little further. Slick smearing on his cheeks as he buries in, your folds parting for him and he continues to just lick up your mess, though the tip of his tongue now teases your tight entrance, swirling around it. You moan out pleasantly, feeling the sweet daze coming over you and your hand comes down to weakly grip his white hair, pulling. “So fucking good..” Satoru murmurs, voice muffled thanks to being ‘busy’ with his mouth. His tongue teasingly glides up until it meets your throbbing clit and you gasp at the sudden sensation you feel, pulling further on his hair until his scalp aches.

His laugh is soft, pressing sloppy and needy kisses to your clit, eagerly making out with it as if it’s the last day on Earth. You used to be embarrassed by hearing the loud slurping sounds, as it meant you were making too much of a mess, but your stepbrother loved it. It’s a beautiful sound to his ears, aside from your voice. So, naturally, you’ve grown to love it, too. His tongue swirls gracefully around the sensitive nub, teeth occasionally grazing against it to coax more of your whines to leave your lips. You’re dripping so much that it’s already causing stains on the blanket, but you’re too blissed out to care at the moment, just so happy to have his mouth against your hot cunt. Satoru knows he’ll have to calm you down afterwards, though.

His large hands soothingly caress along your thighs that still quiver. You’ve always been sensitive to his touch and it sure does boost his ego and eagerness. Nails graze along the soft flesh and you’re whining as the tip of his tongue repeatedly flicks against your clit, your stomach already feeling hot and tight as the urge to climax grows.

You know that only Satoru has been able to make you come just from his mouth, previous partner would refuse anything sexual asides from blowjobs to benefit him. You briefly remember Satoru snorting obnoxiously when you told him in his bedroom back at the family home and wanting to show you how a lady should be touched. It was the morning after your first time with your stepbrother. The point was definitely proven and addiction grew on both sides.

“Daddy, please—“ You choke out between soft pants and the white-haired male’s tongue drags flat across your clit, looking up at you. “Hold it in.” He orders, voice loving yet rather menacing. A threat. He brings one of his hands down, two long fingers parting your folds as he drags his tongue between to break the strings of slick before his other hand shifts further down until one finger teasingly glides across your entrance and he coos as he watches it clench from the sudden touch.

Cheeks stained with your slick, he presses multiple kisses to your clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub to suck on as his finger slowly rubs against your hole before he presses the tip in and slowly pushes the digit in. You whimper as you feel the length of his finger slide in comfortably, velvety walls snug around it. Already, you just want to let go. Especially as he continues to suck on your clit and now the single finger slowly pumping inside of you. You can feel it drag along your inner walls, only to thrust back in, curling slightly to find that sweet spot.

Just as the second finger joins the first to finger you slow and deep, a jolt of pleasure shocks through you when they rub against the sweet spot inside of you and a string of moans just spills out of you, eyes rolling. It feels so fucking good. “Daddy, please... Just let me—“

“No, you’ll come when I say you can, baby.” He says so sweetly despite the harsh words, lips curl to form an open smile as his tongue slides out, saliva mixed with your juices dripping back down onto your cunt. You whine, tears in your eyes when he denies you and your body just feels so tingly and warm. So relaxed and like jelly as he continues to pump the index and middle finger inside of you. Satoru couldn’t get over how your walls squeezed so deliciously around his invading fingers— something he’ll never get used to, truly. It just leaves him excited to have you tonight once the whole ordeal is over.

His cock throbs in his sweats, but he does nothing about it. He did not try to grind against the edge of the bed or even bring his other hand down to relieve himself. This is all about you. His beloved stepsister, who happens to also be his lover. You’ve been uptight for weeks about tonight and he’s always eager to help you relax. Whether through bedroom activities or something else. Satoru presses a loving kiss, a final one to your clit before he scatters kisses, tongue dancing across your inner thighs. Your body is twitching, feeling so hot and desperate to just let go as his fingers continue to slide in and out with ease, thanks to your slick. They continue to abuse that sweet spot and leave you sobbing softly for your release, tears glued to your long lashes.

“Look at you, my pretty crybaby. Not from my cock either.” Satoru mocks lightly, though incredibly endeared by you. The tall male lifts himself until he’s hovering above you, leaning against his elbow at the side of your head. He grinds his long fingers into you and you look up at him, almost blinded by the tears in your eyes. He’s dragging this out for so long and you could barely think anything incoherent. Just drunk off of the pleasure and feeling so hot. “You want to come?” He asks tenderly and you notice how messy his face looks, the bottom half covered in your juices. It just sends a flush of neediness down to your cunt from how pretty he looks, the hair even looking so soft and fluffy. You couldn’t form words between your filthy moans so all you can do is nod, face twisting from the ecstasy you feel. Satoru grins a little, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice low and husky. “Go on, stepsister.”

His fingers pick up the pace and you can’t even express the light annoyance you usually feel from him calling that because it’s shameful how easily he can read you. It turns you on. The whole stepsibling thing is so taboo in society, but the pair of you not caring. Fuck, yeah it’s hot that your stepbrother is the best at eating you out and everything else. Hell, even riling you up. He just knows that you find it thrilling to go against the norm and aside from that; you deeply love him for more than that. He isn’t just your sibling that you’re not related to by blood. Not just some stepbrother you met during your teenage years and have to pretend he annoys you like siblings do. Not just some stepbrother you sit next to as ‘Clueless’ plays on the television screen for the last family movie night before moving out and your hand secretly holding his in the dark. Not just some stepbrother who promises your mother that he’ll take care of you in the big scary city. He’s your boyfriend and more. Soulmate, even.

You gasped sharply as his fingers thrust into you rapidly, gliding in and out so quickly. Your inner walls could barely cling onto his fingers, only squeezing around. The pads of his fingers rub against your sweet spot and you’re choking through your sobs of pleasure, arms wrapped around his bigger form to hold onto him, as if afraid you could sink into the mattress. “A-Ah, Daddy— Feels so— Nngh!” You cried out and you could feel it rapidly approaching. He shifts his fingers within you, rubbing the sweet spot still but now his wrist moves up and down rapidly and fuck, you know what he’s going to make your body do for him. “N-No, ah!!”

With a high-pitched cry of ecstasy, Satoru swiftly pulls his fingers out and you are gushing. Sprays of your juices spurt out from your throbbing cunt and your body trembles through the addicting high that continues to crash over you. Your mind is wiped clean and all you can do is hold onto him as your pussy squirts. Your nails dig harshly into his broad shoulders, forehead pressing against him and Satoru holds you through your orgasm, soft praises falling from his lips. His entire attention is on the heavenly sight of the mess you just made. Still making as the last spurts escape and he soaks it all in, not giving a damn that his arm is also dripping with your juices. You’re so going to murder him when reality hits you. He doesn’t care. He knows you like it deep down, even despite future scenarios giving you anxiety.

“Satoru…” You slur out in your sweet daze, your body still feeling so warm and jelly-like. The white-haired male smiles down at you, crystal blue eyes full of love. “Less anxious now?” He teases lightly. You know he cares about your well-being more than you do at times, even if he teases. You feel your walls clenching around nothing, clit throbbing and slowly coming down from the high. You slump against the bed with a content sigh, pulling him down against you and he obliges, eager to get some cuddling in.

Until you realise what’s happening and gasp in shock, pushing him up so you can sit upright, eyes wide in horror as if witnessing the scene of a crime. There’s a damp patch on the edge of the bed and even a mess on the carpet. “Satoru!” You whine, gripping hopelessly onto his shoulder. “We have to clean this up, they’re going to be here soon. Oh my god, why did you have to be— So hot.” You grumble, nudging against his shoulder. Satoru lets out a delighted laugh, slightly amused by your outburst and presses a kiss to your forehead, shifting himself until he’s standing. “Go take a shower, babe. I’ll clean everything up. Don’t worry and just truuuust me. Please?” He quickly adds, lips curling to form an innocent smile.

You easily melt because of his charms and stand up, only to stumble into him from your legs being so weak from the orgasm you just went through. His arms loosely wrap around your waist, gazing down at you as he smirks. “Not even with my cock, mind you.” He sighs and you can’t help but shake your head, lips twitching as you hold back your smile. His cockiness is attractive and you will not admit that to his face. You glance down towards his crotch at the mention of it, noticing how his cock seems to strain against his tracksuit pants. “I’ll take care of it.” Satoru says when he notices where you’re looking, though secretly wishing you would. You couldn’t help but pout, wishing you could just wrap your lips— or even your fingers and help him feel good. There’s no time. You manage to coax your legs into walking in the direction of the bathroom.

“Oh, by the way… Your high school crush is coming tonight, too.”

You pause in front of the bathroom door, hand on the doorknob and turn around to face the white-haired male, feigning an innocent smile. “What?” You ask and watch as Satoru shrugs, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Dear diary, Suguru said hi to me today when he came over to chill with Satoru. I swear I creamed my panties when he smiled at me. I like him soooooo much. Satoru’s best friend is so hot.” He dramatically whines with his voice shifting to a higher pitch and your jaw drops in shock; not from the fact that there’s an extra person coming tonight, but the fact that your stepbrother read your diary in secrecy back when you were both teenagers.

“Satoru, you read my diary!? I never said I creamed my panties!” You squeal with frustration, stumbling towards your boyfriend to repeatedly smack his firm chest, though no actual strength behind it. Not that any of your genuine strength could hurt the older male. Satoru finds himself grinning to the point of his cheeks hurting, laughing at seeing you become so flustered and gently holding onto your wrists, not stopping your punches. “Couldn’t help myself, was curious who my little sister was crushing on at the time— Maybe cause I wanted it to already be me, but sheesh. It was my best friend instead. That would have stroked his ego.” Satoru jokes, arms draping around you and begins to shuffle towards the bathroom.

You huff a little, curled fists against his chest as you look up at him. “Suguru is hot, I’m not going to deny that... Maybe I was already crushing on you deep down but didn’t want to admit it— Either way, why are you only telling me now that Suguru is coming? Now we have to be even more cautious! He may not be our parents, but he’s an extra person and Suguru is seriously… perceptive. We’re doomed, he’s going to find out.” You whine, slumping against Satoru, arms draping by your sides in defeat.

Satoru rolls his eyes and opens the door behind you, gently nudging you into the bathroom. “He’s not that perceptive, relax. Everything will be fine. No one will find out about our love, I promise. Evidence is currently in hiding and we’re not going to make out in front of them. We got this, Y/N. We’re a team.” He says, gently bumping his fist against your forehead and you couldn’t help but smile softly. He’s right. “A team… Okay, well— It will be nice to see Suguru. He’s hot, after all.” You state with a playful smirk before closing the bathroom door in Satoru’s face.

Jealousy briefly surges through Satoru, but he’s able to calm himself down before giving you what you want; him riled up. He just scoffs quietly. “Don’t forget who made you squirt with just his fingers! Enjoy your shower.” He shouts through the door as he hears the sound of water. With a playful shake of his head, Satoru looks down at his crotch as he turns around before the mess on the bed.

“…Cleaning can wait.”

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The gentle chime of the doorbell is heard through the small apartment and dread crashes over you. It’s time. Satoru is next to you, both of you standing just off to the side and out of sight of the peephole. Just in case one of your parents tries to eagerly look through. His hand rests on your waist, giving a gentle squeeze. His eyebrows are knit together to form a slight frown. He just had to help you calm down from crying out of fear and anxiety only an hour ago. “H-How’s my face?” You ask with a pitiful singular laugh as you look up at him. “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Are you ready? It’s just for a few hours.” Satoru says, knees bending a little so he can meet you face to face.

You inhale deeply, frantic heartbeats calming down at the sight of your boyfriend’s face. It’s cute when he looks all serious and concerned. You glance around you. “Everything is clean, even the mess from before. There’s nothing they can find, Y/N.” He reassures and the doorbell goes off again. Your mother has always been rather impatient. You smile towards him and nod, reaching for his hand to give a squeeze. You didn’t need to say you’re ready, Satoru can sense it. He presses a loving kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He reminds you and your heart flutters. “I love you, too.” You return softly.

Satoru pulls away, large hands dusting off his front. He’s wearing an outfit that you always want to rip off— Just a simple white shirt that isn’t buttoned up all the way and black slacks. You’re currently wearing one of his favourite dresses on you. You smooth out the creases before you walk ahead of him, taking one final deep breath and a glance at Satoru before you open the door with a wide smile.

Three people stand before you and the lady is already pulling you into a crushing hug. “Y/N, my daughter! I’ve missed you so much. Are you eating enough? School isn’t too stressful? Oh, I just can’t wait to see the place.” Your mother expresses excitedly, moving on to hug Satoru. It may be her stepson but you all get along like a close family. Not being blood-related never mattered. Satoru wraps an arm around her, guiding her inside. “Hey, Mum. Good to see you. Come in.” He says, laughing as you didn’t even get to answer her.

You turn to face your stepfather and smile wide. “Dad! It’s been too long.” You say as you give him a tight hug. He pushes up his glasses before smiling down at you. He’s tall, just like his son. “Your Mother has been quite eager for tonight, let me go calm her down.” He jokes as he enters the apartment to greet Satoru. You look towards the last person, heat rising to your cheeks when you briefly remember what Satoru mentioned before. Geto Suguru is smiling politely, reaching in to embrace you. You don’t have a crush on him anymore, but it doesn’t mean you’ll never be flustered by his beauty. “Hey, Y/N. I hope Satoru hasn’t been too troubling to live with.” Suguru jokes, voice smooth and calming. He’s always spoken rather gently. Especially with you and Satoru.

“He’s an absolute pain sometimes, but he takes care of me as brothers are supposed to.” You say and Satoru scoffs from hearing your words. “She can be a pain too, y’know— Suguru.” He says, pulling the dark-haired male into the typical bro hugs that guys do before actually hugging the male properly. You couldn’t help but smile, happy to see Satoru pleased to see his best friend after so long. You close the door behind you, checking to see everyone’s shoes are already off and neatly in a row in the entryway.

Before they can even pull apart, your mother is already inspecting the lounge area, smiling wide. “Well? Show us around!” She says, hands rubbing together. Your lips quiver from anxiety and Satoru’s hand clasps on your shoulder to give a squeeze. It’s the only way he can touch you in their eyes. Typical sibling touches. “Y/N has been a madwoman with all the cleaning today, wanted it all neat just for you, Mum.” He says and you jab your elbow against his side to play out the sibling retaliation. Your father chuckles as Satoru pretends the elbowing hurt, rubbing his side. “Some things never change, hm? Still brother and sister with some rivalry.” Your stepfather says, following your mother.

You just knew that your mother would want to see every inch of the apartment, though thankfully respectful enough to not open drawers, where evidence such as couple photos are hastily stuffed between clothing. “I must send some photos for you to hang up on the walls, they look so empty.” Your mother says, hand patting the empty hallway. Family photos… Could they pass off as you and Satoru just being a happy couple visiting one set of parents if friends in the city visit? “I think some paintings would also be nice, make us appear like we’re totally art snobs.” Satoru jokes as he opens the door to the guest bedroom— ‘His’ bedroom. The parents peek inside as they laugh at how silly their son is. Suguru thankfully isn’t too bothered to see the apartment compared to seeing his best friend it seems and so he only lingers about in the background.

It’s set up rather neatly to look like Satoru’s bedroom, though the bed appears like it’s slept in with creases and not properly tucked and the laundry basket is filled to the brim with his clothing and items scattered about— You were anxious about it appearing like he lives in it and definitely never sleeps in your room. Satoru is slumped against the wall, arms casually crossed as he watches them look around with excitement. “Satoru, you need to be a bit cleaner. What would you do if you brought a girl home.” Your stepfather jokes lightly and instantly, your heart squeezes with jealousy at the thought of your stepbrother with another woman. He swiftly glances towards you, having to bite back a small grin and shrugs. “Think my charm will be more than enough to make up for it.” He says, brushing against so casually to lead your parents away. Perhaps the excuse could be a tight hallway, but you know it’s him trying to reassure you.

You walk alongside Suguru, who is just shuffling behind your parents who now walk to the bathroom that isn’t attached to the master bedroom. You look up at him, he’s always been incredibly tall. Just like Satoru, except not as tall. He’s grown out his hair even longer than before, only half tied up in a bun. Suguru notices you looking and offers a smile. “You must have been stressed, Y/N. About tonight… Though, I can imagine it’s often chaotic when you just live with Satoru. Are you able to get sleep?” He jokes and the white-haired male overhears, playfully sending a glare and you giggle softly. “Some nights it’s impossible.” You sigh, knowing your stepbrother would pick up the implication and have his ego inflate.

The bathroom is just like ‘Satoru’s’ room, with items looking half used, rather than new and rubbish in the bin. No one uses the bathroom, since you both use the one in the master bedroom. You rub at your eyes, finding it a little exhausting that every inch must be checked, but that’s just parents when it comes to their children living away from them and just how beneficial it is that their children get along fine enough to share an apartment. ‘Ha’, you think. They’d be horrified with the truth. You enter the master bedroom behind them, anxious eyes double-checking that nothing is in sight. You hate it. You want your photos back up and cute couple items you’ve gotten together, like plushies from an arcade or hell, even your sex toys out without a care.

“It’s so nice of you to let Y/N have the bigger room, Satoru. Such a good big brother you are.” Your mother praises, patting him on the cheek before she looks around. His lips curl up to form a smug smile, shrugging. “Gotta take care of little sis.” He says, words dripping with playfulness that only you can pick up. He wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder to lead him back out since there isn’t else to see, eager to just catch up with his best friend. Your anxious heart starts to settle down. It’s just the other basic rooms now— dining, kitchen and a study. It seems like you’re both managing to pass the test. Then, only dinner and dessert will remain and they’ll be out of here, maybe around 10 o’clock and you can return to clinging onto Satoru. Knowing you… You’ll probably cry in relief and he’ll pat your head. You sigh quietly. Even just a head pat would be nice and will help you through the night.

Soon enough, your parents do seem satisfied with the apartment that you’ve both chosen to live in and are now settling into their seats at the dining table. Your stepfather at the head of the table, your mother next to him and you next to her. Satoru is across from you, Suguru by his side. Everyone is starting to sit down, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s a lovely little place you’ve chosen, it just needs to look more lived in. Like a home.” Your mother says and you smile, nodding. “We’ve both just been so busy but I guess we can find some things both of us like to decorate… Nothing inappropriate, of course. Right, Satoru?” You ask through clenched teeth as you smile towards him, desperate to keep up the sibling act.

He rolls his eyes and holds his hands up. “No girls in bikinis, I promise. I’m an adult, y’know.” He retaliates lightly and you laugh, rising from your seat. “Please tell me you two don’t bicker all day and do get along.” Your stepfather says lightheartedly, looking towards his wife. “We get along fine,” Satoru replies with ease and you’re internally grateful that he takes charge of the conversation because knowing yourself? You would have screwed up the very second they walked in. You leave the dining room just as your parents start to ask Suguru how he is doing and if he’s taking care of himself, looking behind your shoulder to see Satoru glance towards you with a certain glint in his eyes.

You sigh out softly, thankful to be alone for a moment as you begin to prepare the dinner plates. You decided on a simple roast, far too lazy to do any cooking… well, more like too stressed out. Even if you secretly crave a comforting and warm bowl of ramen. Hell, even just simple miso soup would be nice. You carefully stack the full plates onto the tray and turn around, gasping sharply as you nearly walk into a much taller body— Satoru. “You startled me.” You huff, walking past the white-haired male and he swiftly plucks two plates from the tray to lessen the weight, leaning down to whisper against your ear. “Sorry, babe. Just wanted to check on you.”

His warm breath tickles your ear and his words provide comfort to your heart. Satoru is willing to risk things for even the brief moments and you’re thankful. Even if you do nervously glance at the open doorway of the kitchen. You follow behind him to return to the dining room, smiling when you see your parents laughing along with Suguru. The dark-haired male always got along with your parents and they’d often joke about how Suguru keeps Satoru in line. You place the plates in front of your parents before yours on your placemat, setting the tray aside. “Please help yourself to some garlic bread— I know, I know. Usually goes with pasta and not a roast. I was craving it.” You laugh lightly as you sit back down, next to your mother.

“It looks lovely, dear. Did you do it all by yourself? I hope your brother helped you..” Your mother trails off, eyes narrowing in warning towards Satoru’s direction. You’ve already ripped a piece of garlic bread to nibble on, hiding your smile behind it as you look towards your secret lover who sits across from you. The white-haired male sits up straight, fork dramatically stabbing into a roasted carrot that he bites in half. “Actually, I was in charge of dessert and no, I didn’t just secretly buy it. I’ve been learning to bake.” He grumbles lightheartedly and you smile even further, biting on the bread.

You know the truth. Satoru has indeed been learning; ever since he discovered how much you loved pastries and anything sweet, he picked up the hobby. It was sweet, really. It’s funny how girls in high school claimed that Gojo Satoru would be an immature boyfriend to have and be someone so selfish; just because he’s a bit loud at times and enjoys goofing off from time to time. They never saw what you could see and even now, you get to happily live with your loving boyfriend who takes such good care of you. Your mother’s eyes widen at the news, cutting into her meal before taking small bites. “That’s an excellent hobby, Satoru. Hopefully, Y/N doesn’t inhale it. You have to be careful, Y/N and take care of yourself.” She warns lovingly and you sigh softly, nodding. You know she’s just saying it because she cares, but you’re internally grateful you don’t have to hear it anymore.

“I eat most of it.” Satoru lies with ease as he continues to eat. Suguru snorts lightly beside him, taking a sip of his glass of wine that was prepared earlier. “I can vision that.” The dark-haired male jokes, winking towards you. You snicker quietly, nibbling on the end of a potato that you cut into. Satoru tilts his chair sideways to shove against Suguru lightly and steal a sliced piece of meat off of his plate. “Less dessert for you, Suguru.” He chimes happily, shoving the meat into your mouth.

The five of you continue to peacefully eat as you talk, giving life updates. Whether about work or college. It seems Suguru is thinking of moving into the city and you couldn’t deny your heart being squeezed by your anxiety. It’s not that you don’t like Suguru. You adore him, really. It would just be so difficult to hide what you have with Satoru if someone from your past is here… Still, Satoru would be happy and that’s what you care about. As you cut into your last slice of meat, you accidentally drop your knife against your plate from hearing your mother’s words and your stepfather humming in agreement, eager to hear. “Satoru, have you been trying to find a nice girl to date? You’re in your late twenties now. I’m sure pretty ones just flock to you. You’re our handsome son, after all.” Your mother expresses sweetly, eager to hear some gossip.

Your hands feel clammy. Heart sinking into your stomach at just the mere thought of your… boyfriend finding another girl to date. It would be so much easier. You feel too uneasy, desperate to feel some sort of reassurance from your stepbrother. Your eyes focus heavily on him as your leg slides under the table to bump against his foot. Quietly and in complete secrecy, you shift your foot to caress along his ankle, eyes refusing to look away from him. He’s not looking your way at all, nor looking affected by your touch as he just laughs a bit too naturally at the words, shrugging. “I don’t know, I don’t feel any desperation to find a partner. If it happens, it happens. Don’t try to put pressure on me, Mum. I got a job to focus on.” He jokes, your foot creeping just a bit further up his leg, applying pressure to make him really feel it. You’re utterly oblivious to a different pair of eyes glancing towards you before Satoru as he speaks, all attention focused on your stepbrother.

“Like he could get a girl. His confidence might scare them.” You finally joke as well, feeling defeated that Satoru didn’t even look your way as you teased him under the table, moving your legs to tuck beneath the chair and your shoulders deflate. It was stupid of you to be so risky, Satoru was right to behave like that. Your stepfather chuckles, setting his cutlery down. “What about you, Y/N? Any nice person at university?” He asks gently and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, now having Satoru’s fierce gaze snap towards you and you couldn’t deny how searing it feels. You squeeze your legs together under the table, hands sliding between them and shrugging. “Haven’t been looking, maybe 'cause I believe too strongly in destiny. Time will come.” You laugh sheepishly, leaning back into your chair.

Satoru’s gaze softens on you, briefly thinking of the time back at the old home when you secretly snuck into his bedroom for cuddling and the topic of destiny came up. He couldn’t help but eagerly agree. That’s what it feels like. What you have together is destiny. Satoru stands up as he begins to stack the plates. “I’ll go prepare dessert.” He says, surprised to see both Suguru and his father stand up to help with the dishes. “Let us help you out, son. Y/N, it was really delicious.” Your stepfather praises and Suguru smiles towards you. “Agreed, Satoru must feel lucky to eat his stepsister’s cooking.” He says smoothly and you smile shyly towards him. You shift to talk to your mother as the three men walk into the kitchen.

The white-haired male exhales out softly, setting the plates down near the sink. “Thanks, Dad. Suguru, you as well. You can go relax.” He reassures and Suguru gives a nonchalant shrug, opening the dishwasher. “Might as well lessen the burden.” He says and Satoru’s father nods with eagerness. “Agreed, let me help out.” Satoru’s father says and Satoru laughs, approaching one of the top drawers and opening it. “Not going to deny help, less work for me—“ He pauses, looking down into the drawer and instantly notices a particular kitchen item that should definitely be hidden— or even burned. He slams the drawer shut with a bang and leans against the counter, trying to appear as casual as possible with his toned arms crossing his chest. “Actually, Dad? You travelled quite far, you should go sit down. Suguru and I can do this.” Satoru says, words hastily escaping his lips. His father blinks innocently, oblivious to his son’s behaviour. Suguru is standing behind Satoru’s father, eyes shifting to the top drawer with interest.

“Are you sure? You know I don’t mind—“ Satoru’s father begins and the white-haired male lets out a fake laugh, slightly strained. “I’m sure, besides I need some— bro time with Suguru.” Satoru quickly adds, forcing a smile in his best friend’s direction. His father looks towards Suguru and Suguru smiles wide, eyes shaping into crescents. “Yeah, bro time. I hope that’s okay.” He adds politely and Satoru’s father chuckles, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright.” He says before shuffling out of the kitchen. Satoru sighs deeply, body only relaxing slightly. His hands are still gripping onto the countertop anxiously and he forces out another awkward laugh. “Bro time.. Right, thanks for helping me out with the dishwasher. So— what’s up? Any ladies you’ve been interested in?” Satoru tries to ask casually, his voice strained and his back still against the counter. How the hell is he going to deal with this with Suguru still in the kitchen?

There’s a mischievous glint in Suguru’s eyes as he looks towards the other male, leaning down to slide a plate into the dishwasher, stepping closer to Satoru as he keeps his voice quiet enough so he can’t be heard by the others outside of the kitchen. “Oh, I don’t know. I do think this one girl is interested in me. Might shoot my shot. She’s pretty cute.” Suguru says, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear that escaped his tied-up bun. Satoru shows interest, eyebrow raising as he steps closer, though one hand still blocks the top drawer. “What? Who? Come on, tell me.” Satoru whispers with excitement, lips curling to form a grin.

“It’s your stepsister. See, just now—“ He pauses, watching the colour drain from his best friend’s face and smirking a little before he feigns a thoughtful expression. “At dinner, I felt someone caressing my leg for a minute or so. Very slow and teasing, y’know? It felt really good to be touched like that. It was Y/N. I could tell…” He trails off and Satoru leans back against the counter, jealousy bubbling up within him. His knuckles begin to turn white from how tight his grip is on the counter. “Yeah? Is that so? My own stepsister, huh?” He asks, his voice tight and even resentful. Suguru steps closer, resting against the counter next to Satoru and leans in, voice laced with playfulness. “Except, she wasn’t even looking at me. Her eyes were just locked on you, refusing to look away.” Suguru explains, hand cupping his chin as he rubs it in thought, noticing a nervous shift in Satoru. How fucking obvious. Satoru lets out a small laugh, avoiding eye contact.

Fuck. So maybe Suguru is perceptive. He’s doomed. Even if the jealousy simmers down, he’s still so fucked. “Maybe she was just shy and didn’t want to look your way..” He lies, though despising the mere idea of it. He must have had his legs tucked under the chair for that one moment and you mistook Suguru’s leg for his own— Fuck, you were also probably seeking reassurance, Satoru realises. He didn’t know. Suguru scoffs, moving to stand in front of Satoru, a hand clasping his best friend’s shoulder to give a squeeze, making sure his voice is still quiet, even soothing so Satoru knows he means no harm. “You and Y/N are secretly dating.”

Satoru’s large hands drag across his face as he hunches forward, forehead briefly resting against Suguru’s shoulder. Fuck. “Suguru, fuck— Listen, I know it’s wrong, okay? I know it’s fucked up. I can’t help it, alright? I’m in love with her, I don’t care if she’s my stepsister.” Satoru tries to explain, words just babbling out nervously as he leans back up to look at Suguru’s face, determination in his eyes. “I love her. She loves me. That’s why we ran away to live here, so we can be— y’know, free. Listen, Suguru… You can’t say anything, please.” He pleads a light tremble of fear in his voice.

Satoru is never scared. This is surprising to Suguru and he holds his hands up to show innocence. “I’m not going to say anything, relax. Your secret is safe with me. You know I only want you happy. Y/N, too. It’s not like you’re blood-related so as your best friend? Easy to look past the whole taboo. Sucks I can’t make my move, though.” Suguru jokes and Satoru glares at him. Suguru snorts. “Jokes, jokes. Relax. Don’t want to be murdered by my own best friend. Still, though. It was rather risky for Y/N to do that. The leg thing. I thought she would know better.” Suguru adds, returning to the dishes and Satoru’s shoulders hunch forward, body deflating with concern. “Was it around the time of me being asked about my dating life? She was probably anxious and just needed comfort... Just wish I could openly give it to her.”

The white-haired male twists his body to look down at the counter, crystal blue eyes shifting towards Suguru. “Don’t even react—“ Satoru threatens before opening the drawer. Instantly, Suguru is hovering to see inside. Directly in the middle of the clutter lays a wooden spoon, black writing across the curved surface of the spoon. ‘Y/N’s spanking spoon, spanked lovingly by Daddy Satoru.’ Little hearts are drawn around it and Suguru has to cover his mouth to muffle his amused snicker. Satoru elbows him before a hand comes up to grip his white hair, desperately trying to think of what to do with it. There’s always that slim chance of his stepmother opening the drawer. He wouldn’t put it past her. “I need to get rid of it,” Satoru says, reaching to grab it.

Suguru snatches it up to inspect it. “Wow, so this spanked your stepsister’s ass, huh? Daddy? Why do you keep it in the kitchen?” The dark-haired male teases and Satoru tries to snatch the wooden spoon up. “It’s a spoon! Since when were you such a brat, give it back.” Satoru huffs, only to raise an eyebrow when Suguru tucks the end into his pants and pulls his oversized sweater over it. “Can’t get rid of something so precious, hm? I’ll go hide it in her bedroom… Well, your bedroom, too. Can I stay over tonight? Just tell your parents that I’ll use the couch if they happen to ask.” Suguru suggests, lips forming a smug grin.

Satoru’s cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment but he pretends to not feel such an emotion and grins, gesturing for Suguru to go. “Thanks, go hide it. Yeah, you can stay… I’ll have to tell Y/N that you know about us. She’s going to be mortified when she realises how you figured it out. Maybe I’ll just fuck the mortification out of her.” He says, moving to the fridge to grab the plate that contains a cake. Just a simple sponge cake, covered in cream. Suguru scrunches his face up. “TMI, Satoru. I may not mind hearing Y/N’s sex life, but definitely not yours.” He teases before swiftly leaving the room to avoid Satoru’s retaliation. His hands are laced ever so casually behind his back as he enters the dining room.

You look towards him, raising an eyebrow as he begins to walk towards the exit. “Just going to quickly use the restroom, if you don’t mind Y/N?” He asks and you nod eagerly, smiling. “Go for it.” You say before turning back to talk to your parents, answering their eager questions about the university. Satoru on the other hand, leans his arms against the fridge for a moment, gazing blankly at the cake. He’s so relieved. Truthfully speaking, Satoru always wished just one other person knew of his secret love affair with you. Someone who also knows that you’re both stepsiblings who happened to grow up with each other during their teenage years. Even further relieved that it’s Suguru, his best friend. Thankful to not be judged or criticised. Just accepted. If Suguru had rejected it, Satoru would have thrown him out of the apartment and refused his parents’ questions. He’s not afraid to admit to himself that he’d choose you over anyone else. If it meant packing up and moving elsewhere for good, he’d do that, too. Where no one could reach. Anything to be with the one he loves.

Heart and mind now feeling at ease, Satoru grabs the plate that holds the cake and carries it into the dining room, dessert plates already set in the middle of the table. You perk up at the sight of Satoru, though try to play it off as if it’s the cake that catches your interest instead. “Oh my! That looks delicious, Satoru!” Your mother praises as Satoru sets it down, grabbing the knife as he neatly begins to cut even slices to dish out, smirking a little. “Naturally, I’m good at everything.” He says lightheartedly and you press your lips together to prevent a smile from appearing. Anyone else would find his cockiness to be obnoxious and yet, it’s just one of the many things you love. Hell, your stepbrother has taught you to be more confident in yourself. You help with the plates, setting them in front of your parents.

Suguru happens to arrive just in time, gripping Satoru’s shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze. The white-haired male relaxes. The ‘spoon job’ is done. Everyone is settled down now and you refuse to even try to touch Satoru under the table, just focusing on taking small bites of the sweet cake. You can’t prevent the soft moan from escaping as you lick the cream off of your lips. Your parents are oblivious to such sounds, but Satoru is looking right at you, fingers tightening around his fork. Suguru has to cover his amused smile, pretending to wipe his mouth.

“Y/N, I hope it’s okay that I stay over tonight? Satoru has already agreed.” Suguru says gently and your heart sinks a little. You like Suguru. Obviously. If it was during high school, you would be running to your room to squeal and jump with joy. Now though… you were hoping to be able to unwind and be free with Satoru. To have all stress gone and to cling to your tall lover. Now you’ll have to keep the act up. You force a polite smile, nodding. “That’s completely okay, Suguru. I’ll set up the couch for you when Mum and Dad leave for the night.”

Your parents gush about the lovely idea for Satoru to have even more time with his best friend, finishing the slice of cake before they relax in the chair. Everyone is finished and not wanting to bother with the mess later, you stand up to collect the last set of dishes. Satoru shifts to move and you hold your hand up. “Don’t worry, I can do it.” You reassure, allowing Satoru some time with your shared parents before they’ll be leaving soon. You love them, really. You just feel exhausted. Hopefully, with time, it will become easier to hide things to the point that it won’t feel like an act. You doubt it. With one arm managing to balance the plates, you use your free hand to grab the leftover cake.

You enter the kitchen to start hastily stacking the plates into the dishwasher, along with the cutlery. You eventually turn it on for a normal wash before you begin to clean the kitchen; wiping over the benches and putting items away back into their original spot. Finally, you slide the cake onto the bottom shelf and close the door. You look towards the time on the microwave and relief washes over you. It’s past 10 o’clock. The dinner seemed to go relatively fast, thankfully.

You return to the dining room to witness everyone starting to stand up and feign disappointment. “Oh no, is it that time? It went too quickly.” You whine, lips naturally pouting. Satoru’s gaze momentarily softens when he looks at you, knowing that you’re relieved; even if you do love family. You follow them through to the lounge and then towards the exit of the apartment. Suguru decides to stay back to give the four of you space. You could hear your mother rambling, not taking in anything she was saying. No offence to her, of course. You’re just a bit tired. There are quick kisses to cheeks and your stepfather is expressing for your mother to hurry up because he doesn’t want to stay up for too long. With final embraces and shoes on, both you and Satoru wave goodbye before closing the door.

You slump against the back of it for a moment, eyes wide and blank as you think back over everything. Every conversation. The tour through the apartment. Your limited affection with Satoru. Nothing… seems to be obvious. The night was a success and even tears of relief glued to your lashes. Satoru’s hand gently rubs your back soothingly, tall body leaning over you as he whispers. “It’s all over, baby. You can relax now—“

You absolutely cannot. Quickly, you move away from his touch and glance nervously towards the lounge room where Suguru is lingering. “Satoru, you know that’s a lie. Keep the act up.” You insist gently, prying his large hand off your shoulder as you move towards the lounge room, lips forcing a polite smile. Satoru follows behind you, trying not to show his amusement. “Right, let me prepare the couch.” You say, turning towards the hallway.

“Actually, Y/N. I think I might use the guestroom if that’s okay. Just so you don’t have to deal with such troubles.” Suguru says lightly and you find yourself frozen on the spot. “You— You mean Satoru’s room? You want to sleep next to Satoru?” You ask, voice straining and laced with jealousy. Only you’re allowed to sleep next to your stepbrother. “No, I mean the guestroom. I assume Satoru will want to sleep with you since you’re both dating.” Suguru finally explains, biting back his laugh that threatens to escape.

Dread crashes down over you and you twist around to face the pair of tall males and Satoru is already laughing, a hand pressing against his toned stomach. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had to wait until our parents were gone—“ The white-haired male begins to explain through a soft chuckle. He feels guilty for laughing at your shock, but he knows that you’ll find the situation to be funny later on. Satoru is quick to wrap you up in his arms, pulling you against his firm body. He isn’t scared to shower you with affection, even if Suguru just discovered the ultimate secret. Suguru smiles slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and you’re just completely baffled, automatically leaning into your boyfriend. “Did you tell him—?” You ask timidly, fingers curling into the front of Satoru’s button-up shirt.

They both shake their heads. “It was my leg that you were touching… Honestly, I was flattered at first, and won’t deny such thoughts. I looked at you, but you were looking at Satoru and refusing to look away. I just put two and two together.” Suguru explains as gently as he can, not wanting you to feel embarrassed. Too bad you’re instantly flooded with the emotion and bury your face into Satoru’s chest, voice muffled. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry… That’s so embarrassing, I-I just... I just gave us away so easily, Satoru.”

Satoru brings a hand up to stroke the back of your hair, ruffling it up a little. “It’s fine, love. Honestly, I’m glad that Suguru knows and just accepted us. You can just be yourself in front of him now, hm?” Satoru says gently, voice deep and soft. Still, you smack his chest lightly as you pull away, pouting. “You always have your legs out under the table, why did you change!” You whine, lips starting to curl as Satoru barks with laughter, head tilting. “We both have long legs and take turns. It’s been like that since school.”

You sigh heavily, pulling yourself out of Satoru’s arms, although already missing the comfort. One of his hands lingers against your waist. Your face feels hot as you look towards Suguru, who as always, smiles towards you. “I’m so sorry that I touched you like that.” You apologise, voice somewhat small. Suguru gives a light shrug, holding his hands up to show he holds no grudges. “You’re fine. I would say I enjoyed it but your boyfriend would cut my head off.” He says rather slyly as he looks towards Satoru.

Already, Satoru’s lips are pressing together and eyebrows creasing in concern as he tugs you back towards him to wrap his arms possessively around you from behind. Butterflies form in your stomach as your hands gently grip his arm that’s wrapped around your neck, giggling softly. “You may be my best friend, but no way. She’s all mine. I’ll fuck her in front of you if I need to.” Satoru bluntly states and you choke on your saliva from the childishness, though desperately trying to ignore how the butterflies seem to flutter wildly before being burnt up by the fire ignited within you. His possessiveness is so hot. “S-Satoru!” You squeak, bumping into his taller form that continues to cling to you.

Suguru pulls a face at the boldness, though curiosity appears in his gaze that lands on you. It was fleeting before he looked towards his best friend instead. “What are you, some alpha?” Suguru snorts, palm rubbing against his eye. Satoru grins, almost like the Cheshire cat as he rocks side to side, chin resting on top of your head. “Might want to wear earplugs tonight, Suguru. You might hear my beloved stepsister cry out from my fat knot.” He retaliates and your hand briefly covers your face, feeling so hot and flushed. It’s almost embarrassing but, his filthy words always arouse you with such ease. You feel your panties becoming damp under your dress. You really want to go to the bedroom now. Too many hours spent stressing and you just really….

You fake a yawn, nuzzling back into Satoru, still wrapped up in his possessive yet rather loving embrace. He feels so warm. “Very funny, yes— Anyways, I think it’s time we all hit the hay…” You trail off, glancing nervously towards Suguru in hopes of him not seeing right through you. He does, but he’s a nice guy. He smiles warmly, grabbing his backpack that he left by the edge of the couch. “I agree, I’m so thankful I won’t have to hear Satoru’s snores at least. Am I able to use the bathroom to freshen up?” He asks and Satoru is too distracted by you to even be offended by the light insult. His hot gaze is only on you. He could see through the lie from the second you faked a yawn and uttered the first word. “Yeah, go for it. I guess we’ll see you in the morning, Suguru… Thanks, by the way. For accepting our secret.” Satoru murmurs, long fingers gently combing through your hair.

Suguru simply nods. “That’s what friends are for, goodnight. Enjoy your sleep.” He says, emphasising the last word before he walks down the hallway. You turn around to look up at Satoru, his crystal blue eyes meeting yours.

You’re both thinking the same thing. -------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, in the comfort of the bedroom that you share with your boyfriend; aka stepbrother, you sigh out in relief, already reaching to unzip your dress. Your soft fingertips meet a set of other fingertips that seem far too eager to unzip. Your tiers curl into a fond smile, bunching your hair up to let it be out of the way as Satoru begins to glide the zipper down, taller body leaning down so his lips can press lovingly against your bare shoulder. He’s trailing kisses gently up towards your neck, warm breath fanning across your smooth skin. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You did so well tonight. I know it must have been tough.” Satoru whispers, voice sounding raspy. He needs you. Badly.

His praise easily melts you, shimmying out of your dress until it pools around your bare feet. Satoru knows that you’re an absolute sucker for praise and that you often try to chase the wonderful feeling of making him proud. You behave so well for him, no matter the situation and so, Satoru finds himself always proud of you. Still, you’re emotional from having to deal with something so stressful and tears begin to pool, make-up already smearing cause of it. You love your parents, you do. It’s just obvious they can’t know and you hate it so much. You hate that you have to hide your love for your stepbrother.

Satoru isn’t an idiot. Even with your back to him, he can tell that you’re starting to cry and honestly, he’s not surprised. You’ve been so tense for weeks. Ever since it was announced by your parents. You wouldn’t ever relax unless he coaxed you into it or lovingly distracted you. His smile is soft, firm hands on your bare shoulders to move you until you’re facing him. “D-Don’t look at me, I’m getting all gross.” You whine, hand pitifully trying to cover up the fact that black lines from mascara are gliding down your cheeks, mixed with your tears. Small hiccups escape as you try so hard to hide.

“Y/N.” He laughs, completely endeared as his large hands come up to tenderly cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing at the wet make-up, not caring that he’s smearing it further. “Firstly, I’ve seen you cry so many times since we were teens. Not a new sight for me. Secondly, you’ll always be beautiful and take my breath away every single time.” His voice falls into a whisper, unable to stop himself from leaning down to capture your lips with his own, kissing you with passion. You gasp against his lips and he pours all of his love into the one kiss, hands refusing to part from your cheeks as his lips move slow and hungrily against your own. Your fingers curl into his shirt that’s already half unbuttoned, desperate to pull him flush against you as you return the kiss, your tiers moving in sync with his own.

Neither of you part, becoming so breathless and yet refusing to be the first to pull away. His taller body is leaning into you as he continues to kiss you with loving eagerness. His tongue glides across your lower lip and you happily oblige, parting your lips to allow him to take further control as his wet muscle dominates your mouth. Every passionate kiss will always remind you of your first kiss with Satoru. He rubs his tongue against your own before sliding across every inch of your mouth, eager to claim. He can still taste the sweetness of cream lingering and it causes him to groan softly.

Satoru, addicted to kissing you; found it so difficult to pull away. He presses multiple kisses to your saliva-coated lips before he leans back to exhale air. His crystal blue eyes are clouded with complete desire and you look up at him, eyes full of mutual feeling. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly from your cheeks stained with your make-up, though noticing you’re not crying anymore. He’s thankful for that, even if usually the sight of your tears causes a raging hard-on. “Y/N..” Satoru mumbles, hands caressing along your bare sides and admiring your choice of lingerie. Soft pink lace. He realises it’s hard to have a favourite colour on you when you make every colour seem so perfect.

“Go relax on the bed, I’ll be with you in a moment,” Satoru says, pulling away. Instantly, your hand latches onto the back of his shirt, looking up at him with wide eyes. You don’t want him to go for even a second, that’s how clingy you can get and it’s an absolute weakness of his. “Where are you going, Daddy? I want— I want to touch you. Make you feel good, it’s my turn now.” You insist, briefly thinking about when he was between your legs several hours ago. Satoru’s heart squeezes, easily melting from your cuteness and plants a quick kiss on your cheek. “Just listen to Daddy.” Satoru says, prying your hand off of him as he playfully rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to take care of you, you’ll see.” He finishes.

You pout a little, absolutely hating to be away from your stepbrother, but you can’t resist obeying. Especially since he’d easily put you in your place. Even when he’s feeling sweet and wants to make love. You carefully step out of your dress, grabbing it to rest it on the chair at your dressing table. Not wanting to waste time after you noticed he left to go to the bathroom, you climb onto the king-size bed and crawl to the middle, flopping down. Wait— What is that? You feel something solid beneath you and move to tug the blankets down, eyes widening in shock when you see the spanking spoon hiding beneath the covers and take hold of it, face feeling flushed. “Oh— So that’s where he put it.”

You turn around to look at Satoru who is snickering with amusement, a damp cloth in his hand. “He? You don’t mean…” You trail off, suddenly remembering. Suguru asked to use the bathroom before and oh my god, that means he’s seen this. Satoru’s knees rest against the edge of the mattress, reaching forward to take hold of it with his free hand, smirking from witnessing your shocked expression. “We did well with hiding evidence, Y/N. We just forgot the one small thing.” He says, deliberately dragging the round end of the spoon across your thigh, patting it a few times and you’re whimpering softly, muscles tensing up and hands coming down between your thighs.

Satoru is delighted by your reaction. He knows you tend to enjoy pain by his hands, though you both know the difference between pain for fun or punishment. Context matters, after all. Even if you enjoy a good spanking, you hate to be punished because it means you need to be corrected. The spoon is usually used for the latter. He leans forward to press a kiss to your temple, setting the wooden spoon on his bedside table before he tenderly cups your cheek, bringing the damp cloth up to your face and starting to gently wipe the smeared make-up off. “My good girl, I don’t think tonight calls for pain. Even the fun kind. I just want to make love to you.” He hums softly and you smile softly towards him. “I’ll still rile you up, just saying.” You whisper, fingers playfully walking up his toned thigh, approaching his crotch. He looks down at your hand, gulping quietly.

“Every time we do something is making love, in my eyes. Rough or soft. Loving or mean.” You express, hand reaching the area to cup, giving a light squeeze and your palm starts to rub against it. His breath hitches, managing to wipe the last of the mess from your face and smiles knowingly. “Can’t deny that you’re right, beloved stepsister.” He purrs softly, setting the damp cloth down next to the spoon. Even so, Satoru rather craves to just take time and be gentle tonight since you’ve been stressed. Remind you that everything is okay and it’s all over. Does his fingers twitch occasionally with the urge to be rough? Sure. He’s no idiot and knows he enjoys how pretty you look, and how sweet you sound when it is like that, but you’re just as pretty when it’s not played like that. Just always pretty.

He raises an eyebrow when your hand presses against his firm chest and he follows the pressure until he’s lying down on his back, head against the pillows. “You really love to mention the whole step-sibling thing, don’t you?” You laugh, not particularly denying that you enjoy hearing it. His lips curl to form a playful smile, broad shoulders shrugging as his hand comes up, finger slipping beneath the bra strap. “What can I say, taboo turns us both on. Besides, you know I love you beyond that.” He says, voice sounding rather distracted as his crystal blue eyes refuse to look away from your hands.

With the hint that he gave from tugging on your bra strap, you couldn’t help but giggle softly. He’s so obvious. An impatient man who wants the underwear off so he can properly ‘admire’ you as he regularly tells you. You remember your teenage years when you often wondered if Satoru was a ‘boob man’ or an ‘ass man’. You got your answer on day one when you both first fooled around; he loves both equally. A first for a male, in your opinion. You always heard teenage boys obnoxiously state their preferences, but at age 18 and Satoru hitting 20, you realised just how different your stepbrother is. He appreciates the body as a whole and when it comes to you? You often tease him for being a simp with how he worships you and he doesn’t care. Simply because you’re just as much a simp as he is when it comes to worshipping him in return.

Your hands swiftly unclasp your bra, though slowing down as you pull the straps until both arms are out. Satoru’s stare is hot and heavy, fingers twitching against the blankets. You offer a sweet smile before finally discarding the underwear to reveal your breasts rather confidently. You used to be so timid, but Satoru has taught you to love yourself more. He groans, hands coming up to dramatically drag across his face until his mouth is covered and he’s not looking at just your hands anymore, but your breasts. So soft and pretty looking. Even your nipples seem to already harden from being exposed. “Fuck, I’m so lucky. Suguru must be fuming.” He jokes, prompting you to swat at his chest and laugh.

“Stoooop, Suguru doesn’t see what you see.” You say as you gracefully shift yourself until you’re straddling his lap, not wasting time to teasingly rub your ass against his crotch, feigning innocence as you just act out trying to get into a comfortable position by wiggling. Satoru couldn’t even tell you the truth that Suguru expressed interest in you, far too distracted by the friction of the clothing rubbing against his already hardening cock and the pleasant pressure that is your weight. Satoru just lays there, allowing you to do as you please for the moment; feels so good to have you on his lap after all. He manages to exhale a sigh. It sounds strained. “What if Suguru did see you that way?” He asks breathlessly as your hips continue to roll in small circles, body fluid and graceful. Your hands come down to unbutton the rest of his shirt, noticing the spike of jealousy within the white-haired male. You start to feel giddy again.

“He’s handsome, I had a crush well before you.” You begin and Satoru rolls his eyes and looks off to the side, large hands cupping your bare thighs to give a rough squeeze. A warning. He loves the guy. It’s just that you belong to him and no one is ever going to take you away from him. You grin, utterly endeared by the jealousy and lean down as your hands spread the open shirt, your breasts pressing directly against his naked chest, a hand caressing soothingly along his side. “But I’m not interested in him anymore. My eyes only see Daddy. You’re so hot when you get all jealous.” You whisper, lips hovering over his.

Fuck, he can feel your soft, squishy breasts pressing against him and he only wants more. His strong arms wrap around your waist to keep you flushed against him, nose rubbing against yours. “Prove it to Daddy. Show Daddy how much you love him, stepsis.” He whispers in return and your lips already hungrily press against his, muffling your whines. You waste no time, eager for more and so your lips begin to travel towards his jawline, nipping at the flesh. You’ve been uptight for far too long and finally get to let it all out and relax with your lover, Satoru. Some may think it’s crazy to call passionate sex as relaxing but honestly, that’s what it feels like to you. It can be both thrilling and calm. Calm in the sense that you can just let go and feel good, especially afterwards. Satoru, your amazing partner (stepbrother) may have eaten you out this morning and even made you squirt, but you still felt a bit too stressed cause tonight wasn’t over. Thank goodness it is now.

“Gon’ mark you, Daddy. Can do that now. Girls at work will know to back off— Boys, too.” You grumble lightly, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across his warm skin and Satoru laughs breathlessly, his hands reaching down to cup your ass cheeks and give a rough squeeze. “Possessive little thing.” He coos, breath hitching as you bite down on the side of his neck to suck harshly and you couldn’t help but moan happily, so delighted to be able to mark him up now. You pull away momentarily to admire the dark purplish bruise that formed, pressing an innocent kiss to it before you move in to form another. And another.

His neck is scattered the various hickeys, also varying in different shades depending on how harshly you went. His cock is throbbing beneath you, pleased by the aching pain he felt during the process. His large hands continue to fondle your ass, squeezing hard to the point of feeling your supple flesh filling up the gaps of his long fingers and it entices him to the point of spanking your ass roughly. You yelp from the jolt of pain that soon forms into a nice tingly feeling in your ass and he gives another spank, nails dragging across the flesh. “Thought you weren’t going to be rough, Daddy.” You tease, wet tongue trailing saliva down his chest. “Your ass is impossible to resist. Your needy cries, too.” He breathes out softly, stopping you from going any further down by tightening his grip.

“Stay still, baby.” He whispers against the top of your head, voice heavy with lust. You lay against him, not daring to disobey anything he commands. You love to please him. As you nuzzle against his hickey-covered neck, you whimper from each hard smack that lands on your ass, feeling the spanks alternate from cheek to cheek. Smack! Your body jerks up against his body as he lands a hard spank, causing you to sob out quietly. The stinging pain feels so good, causing you to crave more. Smack! Harder this time. “Were you really trying to touch me under the table tonight? Maybe you’re just a bit of a slut who wanted to get a reaction out of Suguru. Such a naughty girl.” He teases and you frantically shake your head, hands clinging onto his broad shoulders and breasts squishing against his chest once more. He knows that’s not the case. You’re just so cute to tease and naturally, you’re just so naughty that humiliation drives you further. More eager. He doesn’t relent with the hard smacks until you’re sniffling against his neck and his hand feels far too numb, unable to feel a thing.

“Mm, good girl. That’s enough, I promise.” He says, hands giving your now throbbing ass cheeks a soothing squeeze. You pull away with a small huff and lips naturally pouting, eyes appearing wet. “Can I please just touch you now?” You plead, wanting to focus on him from the beginning. Satoru grins wide, eyes lighting up with excitement as his arms rise until his hands rest ever so casually behind his head. “I can’t resist touching your gorgeous body— smacking it, too.” He pauses, looking at you. Is he too sadistic? He couldn’t help but question. The question is swiftly answered by a reassuring kiss on his lips. You’re masochistic and so you both make a great pair. “Touch me, baby.” Satoru whines out dramatically, snapping you back to reality.

You bite back a smile from how cute he can be, leaning down to press loving kisses along his well-defined abdomen, tongue dragging along the toned lines, nails grazing along his sides. Satoru’s lips latch onto his lower lip as he watches you, crystal blue eyes darkening as he enjoys the slow yet steady show. You’re able to wiggle down now, his hands not stopping you and you pull up for a moment, hovering as eager hands unzip his black slacks and you hook your fingers beneath both the pants and underwear. “Let’s get the annoying stuff out of the way first, shall we?” You hum and Satoru happily obliges by lifting his hips.

With three rough tugs, you drag the clothing down his long legs until you could toss them to the floor, jaw dropping slightly at the beautiful sight of his now free and throbbing cock springing out of the confinements and slapping against his own lower stomach. Never. Never will you get used to the glorious sight of it. So long, curved and has just the right amount of thickness that leaves you for craving it. The pretty protruding veins from the base, up towards the bulbous tip, red and eager for a hand— or mouth. You smile a little, pleased to see it twitch before you. Satoru inhales deeply, half-lidded eyes focusing on you, rather than his cock. You love his cock. A blunt thought to have, but you do. “Babe..” He warns quietly.

You snap back out of your cock thirsty fantasies and drop your body down between his legs, laying comfortably. Satoru was right about buying an oversized bed, it makes the fun hassle-free. “Daddy, you’re so pretty..” You whine, leaning forward to nuzzle your face lovingly against his cock and already, one of his hands behind his head comes around to drag across his face, wondering how he’ll be able to control himself as you take your time enjoying him. Each praise you give to him; whether about his dick or his personality, always inflates his confidence and self-love. He’s peeking between two of his fingers, watching as you continue your loving nuzzle with ‘innocent’ kisses being pressed to his throbbing length.

You smile up at him, long lashes fluttering as you hold your hand out just beneath your chin, keeping your gaze on your stepbrother as your tongue slides you and you allow the drool to slowly seep out of your mouth and drip from your tongue. The saliva pools in your palm and Satoru groans in sexual frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re such a slut.” He says lovingly, breath hitching when your fingers finally curl around the thick base of his cock and begin to stroke slowly. Your saliva isn’t the ‘best’ lubricant in the world, but it’s enough to keep your hand from feeling too rough as you slide your hand up and down, wrist twisting with each pump.

“I just love it so much, Daddy. So warm and heavy in my hand. All mine to play with.” You purr, tongue dragging along the length of his cock where your fingertips couldn’t quite meet. You find yourself resting your head against his thigh, eyes focused entirely on his cock as it throbs in your hold as you continue to stroke his length with just so much love. It’s nice to just lay there and admire. Even if his thigh quivers slightly beneath your head and his stomach muscles tense up, trying his hardest to not rush you. How cute. You occasionally dribble out and spit onto your hand to continue with the slow strokes of your hand, enjoying the weight of his heavy cock, thumb rubbing the tip every time your hand slides upwards. You smile from hearing his heavy breathing and voice hitching every so often as your hand squeezes the thickness.

You notice pre-cum starting to bead at the bulbous tip and so you lean forward, hand wet with your saliva sliding down to fondle with his balls, giving a tender squeeze. “Fucking hell, Y/N…” He moans out, long fingers dragging through his white hair to grip on. You mewl softly in response, always loving how your stepbrother curses with your name. It always sounds so sweet. The flat of your tongue presses against the underside at the base before you slowly drag upwards, tracing along one of his veins and tasting the saltiness. Your eyes met his just as you brushed the wet muscle along the tip and moaned in sync with his low ones as you tasted the pre-cum.

“You’re so delicious, wan’ taste you every day.” You express your wish as your tongue playfully swirls around the head of his cock, one hand soothingly stroking his toned thigh as the other continues to fondle and squeeze his balls with just so much love for the older male. “I’ll make you taste me every day, even if it means choking you with my dick, princess.” He sighs heavily, enjoying the slick velvety feeling of your tongue sliding around the leaking tip of his length. You hum in response, his harsh words only fueling your actions and drenching your panties further. You do always feel like some omega in heat around your stepbrother. Unaware of it, you roll your hips against the bed, focusing entirely on Satoru and making him feel good. Nails scrape along his thigh as your hand trails up towards his abdomen, eager to feel him.

It was several minutes of just your tongue swirling and lapping up the pre-cum and you finally wrap your soft lips around the head and suck gently, cheeks hollowing as you begin to bob your mouth nice and slow along the first two inches or so, just savouring the taste of him and length weighing down against your tongue, twitching in your mouth. Your soft moans send vibrations along his lengths and Satoru’s hips buck upwards, causing your mouth to take just a bit extra. To prevent yourself from choking, you keep your jaw slack, bobbing your mouth steadily now, eyes refusing to look away as the white-haired male’s face scrunches up; brows furrowing and lips parting as he grunts out your name.

Your mouth feels good. Too good, even. So warm and wet, inner cheeks rubbing along the sides of his length as your tongue caresses the underside. He notices drool seeping out from the corners of your lips and a breathless laugh escapes. His hand coming to stroke along the top of your head, voice low. “So damn cute, stepsis. Drooling and looking so depraved.” He says as he teasingly pulls on your hair until your scalp aches and you whimper softly. With your jaw relaxed you take more of his delicious length into your mouth to savour on, swallowing around it to tighten your mouth and prompt him to grunt, hips bucking slightly once more from the pleasant tightness of your mouth.

Satoru, being the greedy guy that he is; cups the side of your head, close enough for his fingers to lace together behind your head. You sense what’s to come, knowing your stepbrother very well and whine softly, eyes closing tightly. Instantly, he grinds his cock into your mouth, forcing you to take more and more until your lips are stretched right around the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Your loud gags are muffled as his hips thrust roughly, his hands moving your head with ease to meet each movement of his hips, forcing you to take it all.

You’ll never deny the fact that you love him taking complete control and fucking your mouth as he pleases. Slow and deep. Fast and rough. All of it. You’ll take it all cause you’re just as greedy as him. Perfect for each other. His throbbing cock slides down your throat and you swallow helplessly to try and contain yourself from choking too much. You have to rely on breathing heavily through your nose, but even that feels near impossible when he presses on the back of your head firmly so your face is pressed into his lower stomach, nose buried against a neatly shaved area. Saliva smears across your face as he continues to move your head as he pleases, head tilting back as he groans out happily, addicted to the pleasure that surges through him from having your mouth around his cock, nice and snug.

“So— fucking good.” Satoru pants out as your lips drag along his saliva-coated length. He can hear you breathing frantically through your nose and so being the sadistic stepbrother that he is; Satoru yanks your head back down along his cock, leaning up so he can hug your head properly, locking you in place. Your hands weakly grip the blankets, throat tightening around his thickness that pulsates and you try to breathe, but you can’t. Satoru is lovingly suffocating you. Choking you with his length stuffed down your throat and arms embracing your head against him so you can’t move. It sends excitement right down to your core, whimpers muffled as you simply stay there, your head starting to feel light. Satoru is delighted and wrapped up in the pleasure.

“Aw, look at you. My baby sis choking on my cock and enjoying every bit of it. Such a whore for me, aren’t you? Only for me.” He pants heavily, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at the top of your head. His long legs are bending so he’s able to properly hold onto you, feeling your throat muscles hopelessly constrict around his length. Tears burn and nails claw at the blankets, feeling your head starting to pound from the lack of oxygen. Snot threatens to smear on Satoru as you pitifully try to breathe through your nose that’s pressed too tightly against him and it only makes him laugh, endeared by you struggling so desperately. The urge to climax reaches quickly, his stomach clenching and feeling so hot.

Finally, he lets go, fingers wrapping around your hair to guide your head back, lips dragging along his cock until there’s an audible pop, a sharp gasp following afterwards as you’re desperate for air. You feel all woozy and high for a moment as oxygen rushes back to your brain, your heart hammering hard in your chest. Satoru smirks, only being further aroused from how fucked out you already seem to be just from a bit of face-fucking and… well, choking, too. You cough a little, unable to stop the dry-heaving; Satory is relentless when it comes to blowjobs and you thrive off of it. Multiple strings of saliva attach your swollen lips to his cock, breaking when you pull back further and whine, voice raspy. “I lo- agh.. I love your— cock, so much, Daddy.” You manage to splutter out between deep breaths.

Satoru coos, only being reminded of how deeply he loves you, his stepsister. His hands tenderly cup your warm cheeks to pull you in between his legs, feeling your hands resting against his chest. “And I love you on my cock, so much. Whatever hole, I love your holes. I love you.” He whispers, pressing multiple kisses to your lips, deliberately lingering with each kiss despite you still trying to inhale deeply. A little struggle is so cute. His cock still throbs, leaking with pre-cum and your hand travels down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around once more to stroke, biting back a small grin.

“I love you, too.” You sigh happily, watching the way his brows furrow in concentration as your hand strokes so slowly. You both tend to confess your feelings to one another multiple times a day. Never annoying. It’s just like breathing. It feels normal. “Daddy took such good care of me for the past few weeks, especially today. So…” You trail off quietly, letting go of his cock and playfully smearing the saliva across his chiselled abs. It might have just been an excuse to touch them. Satoru slowly lowers himself until he’s lying back down, his heart racing with excitement. He hopes it is what he thinks it is.

You move until you’re sitting comfortably against his cock once more, angling yourself so your slick-covered folds spread across the underside of his length, one hand coming down to tease the bulbous tip as you grind slowly, sliding your dripping cunt along his throbbing erection and he hides his sounds of pleasure by laughing breathlessly. “Don’t wanna use one of my many monstrous-sized condoms?” He asks, voice dripping with playfulness. You haven’t used condoms since basically day two of being together, you went on the pill after the first night of making love. Never missing a day of it. Naturally, the pile of condoms stay like that; as a pile of condoms. Completely forgotten.

“Your stepsis loves being pumped full of her Daddy’s delicious cum.” You tease, noticing the way his eyes glaze over from mentioning the relationship you both keep buried. Both of you are so sinful and some would say have no morals. Neither of you cares. It’s fun to play around with the taboo. It’s even better that Satoru has such a huge Daddy kink. He loves being both for you. As well as your loving boyfriend. “Ah— Is your cock twitching from the reminder of what we are? You’re so naughty.” You mewl sweetly, your clit throbbing from the contact as it rubs along Satoru’s cock, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through your body.

His large hands grip onto your hips, teeth clenching. Satoru is getting impatient, even if it’s so cute seeing you grind against his cock like some bitch in heat. “Babe—“ He grunts out and you only smile, hands spread across his firm pecs as you grind, sliding from the base to the very tip. Finally, you decide to give him what he really wants; what you both want. One hand takes hold of his cock at the base, moving yourself until the leaking tip presses against your entrance.

You begin to lower yourself, breath hitching when the tip of his length pushes past the entrance of your tight hole. “Let me take care of you, Da-ah~.” Your words break apart as a needy moan escapes, sinking further. Your tight walls are forced to stretch right around the thickness of his cock as you continue to sink, face scrunching up as you whimper from the pain mixed with pleasure. It feels so good to be stretched out by his pretty cock. So long and thick, twitching inside of you. Out of instinct, you squeeze around his length and Satoru groans out from finally feeling your absolute tightness around his length. It feels so fucking good to him; to have his cock buried deep in your needy cunt, the warm velvety walls clinging onto him.

You don’t stop until you’re filled up and your ass meets his thighs beneath you. It was a bit of a struggle since he didn’t usually prepare you like usual— You were desperate to just have him inside of you, besides he already spoiled you this morning with his fingers and tongue. There was just a bit of a delay. You pant heavily, hands light on his abdomen as you try to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, always feeling like your beloved stepbrother stretches you out beyond what your pussy is made to take and yet, you always manage. You’re made for him. “Fucking tight..” He breathes out heavily, hand soothingly stroking your thigh.

“My perfect girl, looking so pretty when you’re stuffed with your stepbrother’s cock. Look at you— Always bulging, thanks to me.” He purrs out, the other hand coming up to brush against your lower stomach, teasingly pressing against it where the end of his length is able to make you bulge out slightly and you whimper from the pressure being applied, nails clawing into his warm flesh. “Daddy~.” You mewl softly, lips threatening to drool out saliva as you couldn’t even focus on keeping any part of yourself together. The painful ache of your walls seems to slowly subside, though lingering and you begin to roll your hips.

Your aroused juices just drip out, making a mess across your thighs and his. Not that either of you care. The mess just enhances the excitement. Your eyes are clouded with pleasure mixed with complete love for the white-haired male beneath you and for a moment, neither of you look away from each other; eyes locked. You rock back and forth, inner walls clinging onto his cock as you move, just for a few of the inches. You moan out happily, eagerly taking the pleasure that washes over you with each grind of your hips. “So pretty, so so pretty..” Satoru whispers, one hand gliding up until he cups one of your breasts to give a playful squeeze, coaxing a spill of needy whines out of you. He pinches the hardened bud, twisting it and you cry out, always being so sensitive to any touch he blesses you with.

He grins, eyes wide and alive as he watches you with deep fascination and feeling even more aroused as you begin to bounce. It’s slow and steady, hard enough for skin to slap against skin and leave the flesh tingling. Your breasts follow your bouncing as you move, your velvety walls squishing around his cock and both leaving you breathless for two different reasons. Your walls just squeeze so tightly and drag along every inch of his length. You swear you’re so tight that you can even feel the protruding veins that run along his cock. Thank god for no condom, you couldn’t help but think; thrilled to have him bare inside of you.

“So— Big!” You cry out, lifting yourself up to feel his thickness drag along your walls before you drop yourself back down, trembling from the pleasure that constantly wraps around you as you bounce on his cock. Your feet are flat against the mattress as you move, so desperate to slide up until only his tip is inside of you and then slam back down until he forcefully stretches you out. Your sounds of pleasure only increase in volume, with cute yelps and needy moans leaving your lips. Satoru is in absolute heaven to be able to witness the sight of you bouncing on his cock, hand occasionally slapping your tits to encourage you to go further, panting heavily. Your inner walls, no matter how aroused and wet you are; continue to cling so tightly around his length as you fuck yourself onto his erection.

His brows are furrowed in concentration as he focuses on the pleasure that surges through him, leaving his toes curling and panting heavily as his mouth hangs open. “So fucking good for me, baby. Fuck— You look so hot, feel so hot.” He groans, your wet cunt especially feeling warm as it clenches around him. His hands land on your hips to give a harsh squeeze and you whimper, tears in your eyes. It all just feels like too much already but in a good way. A way that you never want it to stop, you just want to grind your hips and ride his cock like the addicted whore you are for his length.

There’s a manic glint in those crystal blue eyes and Satoru slams his hips up, forcing his throbbing length in until balls deep and you scream out his name in ecstasy, hands weakly pressing against his chest. “A-Ah, ‘Toru! Daddy, feels so—“ Your words are cut off by your sob as he starts jackhammering into your tight pussy, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air and obnoxious squelches from how wet you are. You didn’t care— Couldn’t care for anything asides from how you’re made for your beloved stepbrother and his cock hammering inside of you. His eyes focus on your dripping cunt, watching with deep fascination as his length rapidly appears and disappears.

The ecstasy continues to surge through you in pulses, each time his length slams up into your tightness, your stomach bulging a little from how deep his long cock goes. He’s taken control entirely and all you can do is sit there— hovering as his fierce grip holds you in place and thighs shaking. Tears spill down your cheeks as you continue to sob out for him. “Daddy! Daddy, ah— fuck!” You wail out happily, eyes rolling upwards as you stare at the ceiling. Your mind feels completely wiped, all thanks to his length that drills into your tightness, cock dripping with your juices and Satoru just feels delirious from it all, especially as your inner walls flutter around his length and clench. He’s grunting with each snap of his hips, nails digging into your hips.

Both of you feel it rapidly approaching as he keeps up the pace. Your breasts even start to ache from the constant bouncing. Blindly, your hands find his to desperately hold onto and ground yourself, gazing down at him with eyes completely clouded over. “You’re so beautiful, baby. All mine, too. Got it? No one will take you away from— fuck, me.” He groans, voice low and breathless. You nod eagerly to his words, tightening your fingers on his hands. “Pl-Please, I wan’ cum, please, Daddy. It feels so— nnn..” You choke on a needy sob, face scrunching up.

You appear so utterly fucked and Satoru finds it beautiful, wishing he could burn the image of your face when you’re stuffed full of his cock into his mind. He tugs you down by your hands until your body is pressed flushed against his own, letting go of your hands to hug around your waist and trapping you against him. “I’m going to come inside of you~. Even if you don’t want it, you won’t stop me.” He purrs against your ear and you whimper softly. You want him to pump you full every time. He pulls his hips back until only the tip is in, lips brushing against your jawline. “Let go, stepsis.” Satoru whispers before he slams back into your tight core, groaning as he can never get used to your soft squishy walls clinging onto his cock.

You cry out from the sudden rough thrust and he continues. Thrust, after thrust. The final one, his cock sliding into you and you completely let go as he told you to. Your body trembles hard against his own, face scrunching up and your eyes closing tightly despite the tears of pleasure they spill and you bite down hard on his shoulder to try and muffle the sounds. His long fingers wrap around your hair to tug back gently, pulling your mouth off of him. “Don’t silen— fuck..” He grunts out as your walls repeatedly squeeze around him and his orgasm rapidly approached until he’s coming inside of you, his cock throbbing hard as strings of sticky white cum pumps inside of you. Satoru has always had a large amount to spill and so you feel so full as he spills it all inside of you, barely moving his cock. He’s panting heavily as your filthy cries continue to escape your swollen lips, clinging onto his body so desperately as if you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t.

The high is beyond everything else, like usual when it’s with Satoru. All you can see are stars. Mind blank and lips parted, your clit pulsing through the orgasm. Your body still trembles and despite feeling his own perfect high from the love-making, Satoru’s hand soothingly rubs along your back, head refusing to leave the pillow. “Ah…” You exhale out, finally feeling your body calming down. Eventually, you start to giggle softly, elated from just having sex with your stepbrother. Satoru smiles faintly, amused by the giggles and keeps his strong arms wrapped around you.

“What are you so giggly about?” He asks, voice raspy. You shake your head and snuggle against the side of his neck, refusing to move. “Just got a good reward, that’s all.” You joke lightly and Satoru snorts, knowing full well that he would have been intimate with you - whether tonight went right or wrong. “My good girl.” He praises sweetly, voice laced with playfulness. You tilt your head to look up at him, eyes full of complete love. He shifts his head a little, crystal blue eyes meeting yours. Your hand comes up to brush strands of white hair out of his eyes.

“I refuse to pull out, by the way. Give me some cock-warming.” He demands lightly, lips naturally pouting. You grin a little and press a kiss to his lips. Multiple times. “You know how much I love to cock-warm you, stepbrother.” You purr, resting back against him. Satoru couldn’t deny it. It feels good, having his cock just surrounded by this lovely warmth and slick-covered walls clinging onto him. He knows he’ll have to pull out eventually so you both can clean up but… just for a bit, he’ll enjoy this. Satoru loves it when you lay on top of him, your weight against him offering him comfort.

“I love you, Y/N. I really am proud of you. I know it was stressful and it probably looked like it didn’t faze me at all, but it did. I’m relieved we both got through it all.” Satoru says, thumbs gently caressing your bare back. You smile softly. Of course, he was stressed out, too. Satoru just kept himself together through the stress so that you could rely on him. Your stepbrother… really is so wonderful. Best step-sibling you could ask for and especially the best lover. “I love you, too. Proud of you, too. You know that, right? Always proud.” You respond, nuzzling into him. There’s a brief pause between you both before you remember something. “I hope Suguru couldn’t hear us..” You mumble, cheeks feeling hot.

“I doubt he could hear me, but he definitely heard you. You’re fucking loud, babe.” He jokes and you gasp, lightly smacking his shoulder. “I am not!” You whine and Satoru only chuckles, tightening his hold. “You are, but you’re my loud girl. All mine.” He huffs, biting your bare shoulder. You roll your eyes playfully, but smile and rest your head against his shoulder once more.

Whatever.

You’re happy to be loud when it comes to your stepbrother.

[avis-writeshq]

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder. 

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice. 

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused. 

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.  

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you. 

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp. 

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye. 

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back.��

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag. 

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

*** 

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you. 

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat. 

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case. 

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning. 

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless. 

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted. 

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.” 

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince. 

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

*** 

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

*** 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine. 

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat. 

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone. 

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder. 

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

*** 

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table. 

“Hey.” 

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks. 

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her. 

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

*** 

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others? 

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone. 

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob. 

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter. 

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly. 

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics. 

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car. 

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house. 

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out. 

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after. 

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you. 

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this… 

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red. 

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind. 

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.  

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

*** 

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch. 

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery. 

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging. 

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair. 

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen. 

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it. 

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards. 

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!” 

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet. 

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett? 

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.” 

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does. 

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

*** 

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead. 

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on. 

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard. 

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice. 

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave. 

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him. 

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys. 

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser. 

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know. 

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you. 

“Yes?” You need something. Anything. 

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door. 

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet. 

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

*** 

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology. 

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe. 

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.” 

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp. 

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy. 

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl. 

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind. 

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves. 

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers. 

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap. 

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly. 

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again. 

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened. 

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head. 

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.” 

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think. 

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

*** 

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore. 

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here. 

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm. 

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit. 

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound. 

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

*** 

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason. 

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen. 

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you. 

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips. 

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen. 

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense. 

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

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full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

[myszie]

I think your Tutor likes being called a Good Boy

Sub!Matt x reader

Trigger warning - Smut, Dom/Sub dynamics, Throat play, major Corruption kink, maybe Dub!con, degradation.

MDNI

First time writing smut, constructive criticism please!!!

Matt fidgets with his pencil, hands roughly bundled in his lap, You’re supposed to carry over the power” he mumbles, his words terse. I look up at the boy sitting across from me in the prickling sweltering heat of the school library, “Matttt I swear you’re writing in another language at this point” I murmur exasperated, lips drawn into an exaggerated pout.

Matt shifts in his seat - red flush coating his porcelain skin, as he reaches over to correct my mistake. “It’s not hard, you’re just not doing it properly” he adds attempting to joke and look away from my face, and the way my skin shimmers in the heat….so mundane yet so provocative. “You whore, why must you attack me like that” I laugh back tugging at my thin tee so it it doesn’t stick to my body. Not hearing a reaction, and worrying I pushed too far, I lean into Matt only to see him squirming in his lap as diverts his gaze from the dip of my collarbone.

“You don’t look so good Matty….its too hot in here…wanna study in my car?” I offer cooing at the boy as I help him gather his things, perfectly disguising the ways my hands linger as I help him put stuff in his bag.

The boy shuffles behind me, his hands firmly plastered to the front of his body…the heat, your lips and the ways your words were just on the precipice of his desire. Watching Matt struggle ever so much under my gaze, the battle behind clinging to his perfect image is downright tempting. Like a white canvas begging for colour, begging to be ruined.

“Does that feel better?” I murmur, softly rubbing his thighs, to comfort him of course and not anything else. The hitch in his breath is loud and clear within the silence of the car, but I’m more than happy to indulge in this game of cat and mouse a bit longer. “The heat was really getting you huh?” I coo again, this time pressing a cold beer near his jugular. “Mhm this should help the flush” I say smirking slightly as I hover over the boy, but seeing his blush darken and eyes look wide and dazed…my temptation peels and I can’t help but dip the bottle lower…near his chest.

Matt gasps biting his lips, “Yea that feels…better” he manages to force out even though the ice did nothing to calm the raging hard on he was packing. He was too far gone at this point, he needed you to keep touching him. “I think I know what will feel really good though Matty, what hill help ……this” I whisper in his ears as I drag the cold beer bottle close to his navel. Matts eyes widens and before he can process what you’re proposing, I pull my hands back and settle in my chair acting nonchalant. “Feel better Matty?” I lilt, stressing the syllable. Matt eyes turn to mine, completely wide and his chest heaves as his brain tries to cope with the fact that he hadn’t just imagined your hands near his cock.

I stare back at him, a challenge and invitation clear in my eyes, “No…need help” he finally murmurs out his words stressed and broken. “Mhm you were quite rude you know, you should ask me nicely” I rasp as I let my hands and nails ghost over the skin of his thigh. Matt hands ball in his laps as his body shakes under my touch, “please help me…please” he finally manages and I smile my touch getting bolder as it palms the bulge in his pants. “Help you do what bunny?” I say smirking, having fun while breaking down matts composure. “Touch me please” Matt moans his hips rising up as they grind up into my hands.

Smirking I’m immediately on him, straddling his heaving frame in the small car. My red manicured hands grasp both sides of his face, as I look into his eyes….”You thought you were being subtle huh, palming your dick in the library like a slut” I rasp roughly kissing his perfectly pouty laps. Matt all but whimpers as his hips ground up to mine, moving desperately for friction. I squeeze his mouth, “Open” and spit in his mouth as he spreads open his mouth, “god such a desperate slut, now swallow” I say licking a line of sweat down the side of his neck. I’m well aware of the fact by this point he’s practically humping me, but I let him…he was too pure yet to ruin completely and besides I didn’t wanna reveal all my cards.

“You desperate boy, I thought you needed me to touch you, but here you’re more than happy humping me like a Rabid bunny in heat….fuck perfect Matt is such a little slut…doing all this when anyone can see the fucked out look on your face” I tease my hands grasping his throat as I too grind down on him. Matt tries to answer, his words muffled in moans and I laugh, “You don’t gave permission to speak doll” I say biting his lips.

Matt is all but reduced to to heap of grunts and moans, his hips chasing the rhythm of mine. Feeling himself get closer, he can’t help but moan out, “Fuck feels so good” as he cums in his pants against the heat of my centre. I ride him through his orgasm drawing out the sensitivity, until I address him with a hard glare.

“I said you’re not allowed to speak doll”

Y’all want part 2? I’m not sure?

Tag list

@chr1sgirl4life @sturniolos-bae @sturnsfave @somegirlfromasgard @solarsturniolo @vecnasnose0 @ev3rgreenxtrees @sleepysturnss @namelesssaviour @lov3burns @tillies33ssss @sturnpooks @ladyvenera @malirosee @sluttformatt @yo123itsme @hypnotizedsturn @stellarsturns @lolasturniolo @namelesssav

[lovexjoe]

How would Armando be if he thought the reader was sweet cute never hurt anyone or a fly but when they are partnered up to go on a mission she the opposite… please do this

Damsel In Distress

A.N: This one is gonna be fun! Y/N will be used as bait for a mission, but Armando doesn't realize she can hold her own. The karambit scene from Bad Boys For Life, Y/N takes the place of Armando with some dialogue changed. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHQFzABygCI

Warnings: Violence, some fluffy fluff

Y/N POV

Armando and I have been arguing all morning and afternoon. I don't get what his problem is, he's treating me like a child.

"¿Estás loca? ¡No lo vas a hacer!" (Are you crazy? You're not doing it!)

"Im doing it and that's final!" You stormed out the house.

You guys haven't made things official yet and it's fights like this that reminds you this relationship might be a ticking timebomb. Since I've been partnered with him, he doesn't let me get in on ANY of the fun. I am talking I look like a damsel in distress even AMMO squad laughs about it.

"I think he has a crush on you. It's kinda cute" Kelly teases you as you finish up some of the files that needed to get done for the team. No one really knew what was happening behind the scenes.

"Thinks? Oh he definitely does" Rita says.

"I am sorry in advance that my son is a pain in the ass" Mike shakes his head.

"Advance? You a little late on the apology Mike. This boy been a pain in the ass since we partnered them up!" Marcus adds in.

Everyone chimes their opinion in till the room went silent due to Armando walking in.

"I don't think Y/N should be used as bait tonight, it's not safe" He leans against the wall with everyone trying to suppress their laughter.

Armando really does not know who you are. Yes, your exterior may look sweet and innocent, but out of the whole AMMO squad: you're the deadliest. Which is why you stick to the tech stuff until they really needed you. Mike and Marcus pulled him aside to have a talk: good luck cause he never listens.

Armando POV

This girl drives me insane. Someone as innocent and sweet as her just READY to jump in the fire. Mike and Marcus try to be the voice of reason, but I really wasn't trying to listen. If anything or anyone touches a hair on her head, I'm putting a bullet through them and not thinking twice.

"Mando listen, I understand and I am genuinely surprised that you care, but I promise just stay on standby and watch from the overhead." Armando shoots Mike a glare knowing he wasn't going to win this one regardless so he decided he'll just be on sniper watch.

As it started to get dark outside, we loaded up everything we needed. Y/N was geared up and she looked gorgeous. This women drives me completely insane, but I'd do anything for her. We parked in our hideout spot and started exiting out the van. I grabbed Y/N's hand.

"Listen, just signal me if you need help. " I pulled her close and placed a kiss on her forehead, then proceeded to set up my sniper in the designated area.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚❋ ❋ ❋˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Y/N walks to the pinpoint location, meeting up with the drug dealers. She brought her favorite little karambit with her. She warned Marcus and Mike that it might get bloody. These idiots knowing she's a female they're going to try to ambush her. Mike said as long as the leader isn't killed, everything else goes under the radar.

"Karina!" The leader calls out cheerfully. You drop the bag filled with fake money on the floor ignoring his gesture for a hug. Armando lurking from his position, taking quick glimpses of how gorgeous you looked right now.

"We're so sorry to have to do this to you Karina. But your services are no longer needed" 6 men started to slowly close in on you. Armando positions his finger on the trigger, ready to take the leader out and fuck this whole case up. Your safety means more than any case and he'd gladly go back to prison for you. Right as he's about to pull the trigger, Mike says over the intercom to just sit back and enjoyed the show. Armando was confused as you snatched the gun from the leaders hand, placing a bullet in each of his knees and uppercutting him: knocking him out cold. Nap time! You took out your karambit and everything went black. You didn't know what happened in between, but when you came back to your senses your karambit was shoved into the mouth of one of this drug dealer's minions. With 6 bloody bodies surrounding you. You turned to Armando and said

"Oops" You wink.

"That's what im talking about!" Mike and Marcus cheered. Rita and the rest of the AMMO squad came out to wrap everything up. You headed back to the van. Armando was shocked for sure. Turned on? Majorly. Sweet and innocent was DEFINITELY not the words used to describe you anymore. You heard the door of the van open, seeing its your favorite partner in the world.

"You okay mami? I don't want any problems." He slowly creeps in with his hands up, teasing you.

"Yes I'm fine" You chuckled as he pulls you close.

"Yes, you most definitely are" He leans down placing a kiss on your lips.

[genderlessdude92]

PRECIOUS

PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: You and Alastor get into a fight because you’re just worried he got hurt after a fight with Vox. He snaps at you and…well, you isolate yourself. whoopsies!

WARNINGS: Emotional abuse, Toxic relationship dynamics (but they both love each other dw), Intense emotional distress, Language, Potential Triggers, Donestic conflict. (MAJOR FLUFF AT THE END THOUGH!!! ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!!!) They were a couple alive too if you don’t mind idk i suck at writing- USAGE OF Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT AHHH- Lmk if i missed anything :3

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.7k

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

“Alastor, are you serious?!” You yelled as Alastor started to walk away from you, mid conversation.

Alastor had just gotten into a big fight with Vox, luckily survived, though. The frustrating part is, he won’t even let you heal him. Or know what the battle was even about?!

Which made you really, really paranoid.

“Alastor, don’t walk away from me, that’s rude.” You caught up with him and began to match his pace and he walked to the halls of the hotel to lucifer knows where. “We need to talk about this.” You say firmly. “I’m going to find out one way or another.” You add, raising your voice slightly.

Alastor stopped walking and turned around to face you. He was looking down at you, which always made you feel so small. Even if he wasn’t actually looking at you, you could still feel it.

“Well, then.” His voice was calm, but a hint of annoyance was there. “Aren’t you just invested in my little public hiccup.”He crossed his arms, waiting for your response.

“Yes I am. And I think we should talk about it, instead of you getting defensive.” You looked him dead in the eye and kept talking. “And why you didn’t tell me.” Your voice went quieter again.

Alastor hid a chuckle, “I thought you would care more about me surviving, than knowing how many lives I took today.” He raised his eyebrow, mocking you. “Or maybe, I don’t want to share this kind of information with someone who will judge me for it.” He was now fully annoyed by you.

You stepped closer to him, trying to keep him from leaving again. “Alastor, please stop. I’m just trying to help. I don’t…” You trailed off nervously. “I don’t want us fighting.”

Alastor smirked at you, “Oh, don’t worry love. We aren’t fighting. Yet.” His tone was harsh and he leaned down to look you in the eyes. “But I will if you continue to harass me about this.”

You felt yourself start to panic, but tried your best to hide it. “I’m sorry Alastor, I just…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, as he interrupted you.

“No. Don’t ‘just’ anything. You know I hate that word.” He said with a cold smile. “Now leave me alone before I get upset with you.”

“…You know,” You began, standing in your place as Alastor walked away, “You should at least act like you care about my opinion, maybe act like a husband, as well.” You snapped back, but in a more calm, collected tone. (minus the shakiness in your voice.)

“That’s rich coming from you.” Alastor snapped back, turning around to face you again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a self-righteous wife?” He raised his voice a bit, but not enough for others to hear. “How dare you assume things about me without even asking. How dare you come here and make demands of me. How dare you try to control me.” He continued yelling, walking towards you. “You have no right to tell me what to do! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“I’m not trying to control you. I’m just saying, maybe you could at least consider what I have to say sometimes…” You tried to say bravely, but failed at the end. You felt so small. So insignificant.

You felt like nothing.

Alastor was now right in front of you, towering above you. His height and stature were intimidating, but his voice was worse. It was rough and demanding, making you feel like you weren’t worth anything. “You are nothing, nothing compared to me.” He sneered. “I don’t give a damn about what you think. What you say. What you do. You’re just a pathetic little sinner who has no idea what real power feels like. You’re not worthy of my time. You’re not worthy of my attention. You’re not worthy of my love.” He spat out the last word like it tasted sour in his mouth.

His words were cutting through your heart, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You dashed away to the nearest staircase, needing to get to your office. Your only safe space.

***

It has been about a week now since the fight you and Alastor had.

It had also been a week since you came out of your office.

You didn’t really leave your office because, one, it had a fridge of food and other things. Two, you had a makeshift bed with the couch. And three, why would you even go out there?

Only problem is, you’ve cried everyday, and that made you feel like complete imp-shit.

You really wanted to see Alastor, but you knew it wouldn’t end well.

You also didn’t want to be around anyone else, either.

***

Alastor was a gentleman to all women who deserved so.

An example he would give you is Rosie. He’s a gentleman to her because she’s nice to him and has manners. She deserves it.

But, if he was near Velvette, he would call her cruel names and shred all her ‘designer masterpieces’.

But, now he was confused.

What happened with Y/N?

He had never fought like that with her before no, usually she would be next to him in bed right now.

He was starting to miss her.

…he needed to give her an apology.

But he knew he wasn’t good with words.

So, he brainstormed.

“I could probably give her a heart…” He thought, stepping out of bed and pondering for a moment, “…no, no….maybe…some flowers?…” he looked over to his bayou. “…Allergies.”

He slumped onto his armchair and looked around his room for any ideas at all.

“…maybe some candy? No.” He thought, “She doesn’t eat much sweets.”

He sat there for a while longer, thinking.

Then it hit him.

***

You heard footsteps outside your door, and immediately froze. You looked around your room for any escape route, and found none. You decided to sit back down on your couch, and began to wait for whoever was there to leave.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and a knock sounded out. “Y/N, open the door.” Alastor’s voice was stern and commanding. “I know you’re in there.” He added.

You opened the door slowly, and peeked out to see who it was.

“Hello, darling.” Alastor said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”

You just stared at him, saying nothing

‘fuck’, he thought, ‘i caused this.”

“Y/N, I just want to apologize.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was wrong.”

“…you don’t mean that.” You replied, still not moving.

“I do mean it, darling. Please jsut…let me in.” Alastor said sincerely, taking a step forward.

You hesitated for a moment, then moved aside to let him in. He closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure of what to do or say next.

Then, your eyes wandered to the large picture album he was holding to his side.

“Alastor…what’s that?” You asked, taking a step back cautiously.

“…it’s our picture album.” He looked at you, remaining calm. “…from…when we were alive. You know, with all those crappy photos.” He smiled softly.

You looked up at him, “…I’m scared.”

Alastor knew exactly why, as well.

He sighed, “I promise…I will keep myself contained if i ever, ever lash out like that… ever again.” He claimed, tears building up in his eyes.

“What i said back there was not true at all. You are everything to me, you are worth so much, and most of all, I love you.” He dropped the book to the floor and held out his arms to hug you.

You didn’t move, “…I don’t want to be here…” You said, letting a tear fall.

He nodded, “That’s okay, dear, let’s go to our room, okay?” He reassured, picking the book back up and holding you tight to his waist as the shadows consumed you both, talking you to his room.

***

You and Alastor missed this.

Limbs tangled together in bed, holding each other close, breathing in each other’s scents, you wish you had this sooner.

Alastor flipped a page of the album, “Oh look,” He noticed, pointing his claws to the first picture in the album, “It’s our cat, oh, what was his name again?” He asked, looking at you.

You were still crying.

He took a deep breath, “Y/n,” he exhaled, “It’s okay, dear…please don’t think about it.”

You looked at him, “w-what?” you said, wiping your cheek.

He ran a claw through your hair, “Nothing.” He said, smiling softly.

You put your head on his shoulder, “Okay,” you mumbled into his chest, closing your eyes and enjoying his scent.

He stroked your hair, “Do you remember our wedding day?” He asked.

You shook your head, “…no, I don’t…it was too long ago…” you said, sniffling.

He kissed the top of your head, “That’s alright, sweetheart, we have plenty of time to talk about it.” He assured you, pulling you closer to him.

You closed your eyes, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. You felt safe in his arms. Safe and loved.

Alastor flipped the pages until he found the wedding pictures, “Oh, here we are. Look, see how my mother walked you through the aisle?” He rubbed the picture with his thumb, rethinking back the memory.

“…yeah…I remember now…” You snuggled closer into him, trying to control your ragged breathing.

“…just breathe daring.” He reminded you, “Look here, you see how much you’ve changed?” He laughed softly, flipping another page, “See here? Here you are at our anniversary dinner, you wore that beautiful dress that made your legs look amazing.” He blushed lightly, “I remember you told me I was the only one allowed to see it.”

You giggled, “…that was a joke, silly.” You said, opening your eyes and smiling up at him.

“Ah, yes, I know.” He smiled back,

“…You’re so precious to me, y’know that?” He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

END NOTES: Idk what i was thinking when i made this fic erm…! Idk I’ve been going thru some shit rn but I’ve gotta impress the community because the notes/likes/comments/reblogs on my posts aren’t doing to good rn!! Oh no!!! (that is a sign from my greedy ass) And i just started a multi-chapter fic so like idk why i’m typing this- support is appreciated. BAI!!![![![11!

-Lynn ¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩ Masterlist Link

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

New Dynamic

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Peter wants to start a life together but you seem awfully reluctant. He doesn’t like it.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship; Manipulation.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

You’re in the kitchen, leaning over the counter as you cut some vegetables for dinner. You have your AirPods on, so you never heard the door opening nor do you see Peter pressed against the wall, work bag still in his hand as he lovingly gazes at you. 

You look good, too good. Like you belong there, at his apartment, in his kitchen, making him dinner. It’s almost like a dream.

He quickly puts down the bag and silently reaches towards you, back hugging you. You practically jump from the small scare, but you relax as soon as you realize it’s just Peter. 

Your adorable boyfriend. 

Peter removes your ear pieces and presses a soft kiss on your cheek, his hug getting tighter. 

“Hey there. How was your day, babe?” you ask, continuing your task. His fingers sneak towards the waistband of your leggings and you swear you can feel butterflies on your belly from his touch. 

“Boring without you.” he replies, nuzzling your neck. You let out a giggle upon hearing his response and he gives your waist a small squeeze. 

“I’m serious, without you my day was absolutely bland. Wishing I was here with you instead.” his voice sounds serious and you know he’s telling the truth.

He never lies to you, you know that. 

“How was your day then?” He curiously asks. You shrug your shoulders, pulling away from him to place the vegetables on a pan.

“Also boring. Sent some job applications but haven’t gotten an answer yet.” your answer makes Peter frown, his arms crossing as he watches you work on dinner.

He knows exactly why you haven’t gotten any answers, he’s made sure to call each company to let them know that you’re no longer applying for the jobs but it’s a matter of time till someone reaches out to you with a job offer. 

“My company has offered me the chance of working remotely from home. That means more time for us to be together. You’re always in the apartment and that way, so would I. I start Monday from home.” he casually drops the information, eyes carefully analyzing you. 

“That’s awesome, babe! You’ll get to relax a bit.” you exclaim, rushing towards him to briefly hug him before returning to the stove. 

“Yeah and I was also thinking that we should keep this dynamic, you know?” he mentions.

“What dynamic?” you absently ask, grabbing a spoon. 

“Us together in the apartment. Me working and you doing the house chores. It’s a good balance.” you look at him with confusion. 

“I mean, yeah but only until I find a job again.” you say, feeling a bit uneasy over the way Peter talks about this. 

“But you really don’t have to. Find a new job, I mean. I can provide for both of us, you know that.” you almost drop the spoon, shocked at his words. 

“No, Peter.”

“No? Why not?” he furrows his brows, annoyance tingling him. You don’t answer and he starts losing his patience at you. 

“What? You don’t want us to spend time together, is that it?” he angrily throws and you involuntarily take a step behind. 

“It’s not like that, Peter. I just… I don’t know.” you hesitate.

“You don’t know? Babe, this is a great chance to move on to the next step. Have a domestic normalcy. Living together, getting married and then starting a family. Why not take the chance? I thought we always wanted that, didn’t we?” he adds, looking away from you as if you’ve hurt his feelings. 

It does make you feel bad, you’re lucky enough that your boyfriend offered to let you stay with him when you lost your job. He’s financially taken care of you ever since and in return you take care of all the domestic aspects.

And it hasn’t been bad, not at all. 

You’re just not sure if right now it’s the right time to take that next step, but you have a feeling that Peter will wrestle you into agreeing, if you dare to say no. 

“We’ll try it out then, okay?” you try to reconcile, giving Peter a small smile. You seem to have said the right thing because his whole body language changes, becoming lighter. 

He lunches towards you, pulling you into his arms as he lifts you in the air, kissing any part of your skin that he can reach. It’s so goofy that you laugh, thinking everything is fine now.

Once you get a new job, you’ll explain it to Peter and reason with him, he’ll understand.  

Positivity fills you but little do you know that Peter will never let you back on your word. 

[itspyon]

how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees

so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR

i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive

let's start with the basics and frequent questions

your username can be anything, don't stress about it

your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile

your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible

check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!

yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end

tags

it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary

the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case

you can use spaces on your tags

usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts

you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply

quick reblog and like deets

post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site

you can reblog without tags, feel free to

you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster

actually posting

people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter

there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free

the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?

don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you

block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make

culture time

i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care

tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree

tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes

because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact

you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like

the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person

you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree

again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You rub your lower back as you enter the bakery. You focus on the simple task; just a loaf of bread. You have a weak spot for the sourdough there. Just thinking about it, you could salivate.

You wait behind another customer. You think she works at the bank but you’ve never been very good with faces, even in a small town like Hammer Ford. Others don’t seem to have that issue as your name easily rolls off their tongues. The whispers are getting louder now that you can’t hide as easily.

The bank clerk sidles along the counter and glances over her shoulder as you shuffle forward. She sends you a judgmental look but you reserve any of the same. Everyone knows she’s sneaking around with the manager down at her branch.

You tug your shirt down as it threatens to ride further up your stomach. Everything’s too tight these days. Everything’s uncomfortable. Your fingers linger on the hem, touching the taught flesh beneath. Four months now.

“Hi,” you greet the woman behind the till, “can I get a loaf of the sourdough. I’ll take the day old for the discount if you got it.”

She smiles brightly and repeats your order, asking if there’s anything else. You say no. You budgeted for the bread, even a tea would put you too close to the line. She grabs you a loaf and she keys in the day-old discount.

You pay as she slips the wrapped loaf into a paper bag. Before you can turn away, she stops you, “have a cookie,” she points to the plate of shortbread beside the small specials sign. “They’re not moving.”

“I can’t,” you argue.

“You’re doing me a favour. I don’t like to throw them away,” she insists.

You smile sheepishly and take a cookie, hugging the bag above your stomach as you turn and nibble on the cookie. You cross to the door, juggling your armload as you open it, and leaving without a look back. You hear your name again before the door closes.

Who’s the father…

That’s the big question. You’re not married, not dating, so who could it be? The same question got you kicked out of your mother’s house. The pharmacy let you the dingy bachelor above as you spend your days working a till at the front.

You won’t say it, even to dispel the murmurs. You know it wouldn’t solve anything, only add fuel to the fire. ‘She should’ve known better. The golden prince of Hammer Ford is a known playboy. Why wouldn’t she be safe? Why wouldn’t she be responsible?’ They wouldn’t ask the same of him.

As you turn onto the street, your arm hits someone else and you drop the cookie. It cracks on the pavement and you look down, leaning forward to see the ruins. You deflate. Oh well, it was free, after all.

“Sorry,” a voice draws your attention from the spoiled shortbread. You look up at the man. You know him, you think. Again, you’re no good with faces.

He runs his hand over his shaved head then drags it around his beard, “I’ll get you another.”

“No, you don’t have to,” you wave him off, “I should go…”

“Miss, it’s the right thing to do,” he insists.

“Really, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I should’ve looked where I was going.”

“Me too,” he agrees. 

You tilt your head and push a shoulder up, “well, have a good one.”

You turn to cross the road, looking both ways. As you step down from the curb, the man does the same. Why can’t you remember his name? You swear you ran into him before. Down at The Horn with… him.

He walks parallel to you as you cross the street. You stop and look at him, confused.

“Just seeing you across, miss.”

“Uh, thanks, that’s very nice but you don’t have to do that,” you chuckle nervously.

“I know. Just what I’m trained to do.”

You remember, he’s a soldier. Yeah, Thor mentioned that. Just thinking his name stings.

“Right, well, thanks, I appreciate that,” you put your hand on your stomach and haul the bag higher, turning toward the pharmacy just a shop down.

You hear him follow you again. It makes you nervous. Is he going to the pharmacy? It could be a coincidence, it’s a small town. Still, it’s very odd.

You go to the door just past the store entrance and take out your key. He comes right up and watches you, looming strangely at your shoulder. You hold onto your key and face him.

“You’re pregnant,” he says as if you don’t know.

“Uh, yeah,” you nearly laugh, “I am.”

“Shouldn’t be carrying all that,” he says.

“Just bread,” you answer.

“That father should be getting you bread,” he argues.

You’re put off by his demeanour. He speaks as if he’s giving orders to the world around him. You guess that’s just his nature.

“He won’t be doing that,” you shake your head. “I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t remember me,” he adds, “I remember you. You were dancing and drinking.” He looks again at your stomach. You put your hand over it defensively.

“I wasn’t like this then.”

“You weren’t,” he frowns then points to your finger, “no ring?”

This is awkward. Where everyone else in Hammer Ford is happy to whisper behind their hands, he’s interrogating you in the street. You shake your head and look down.

“Must not be a real man who did that,” he comments, “I’m Sy, just to remind you.”

“Sy,” you sniff, “right, I–”

He says your name first, “I remember.” He taps his temple, “I won’t forget.”

You swallow and the bag crinkles against your chest, “I’m… gonna go, uh, Sy, my feet hurt.”

“Be safe,” he commands.

“Thanks,” you utter awkwardly and stick your key in the slot. He stands staunchly as he is and as you pull the door open, he reaches to open it all the way and holds it, “got it.”

You keep the fragile smile on your lips and bow inside. He lets it close slowly and you pause to make sure he’s on the other side. You twist the lock into place and recoil. That was very weird.

[cozy-cinnamon-roll]

A Princess' Guide to Interrogating a Radio Demon

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Ler!Charlie, Lee!Alastor (strictly platonic)

Content/Trigger Warnings: tickling, interrogation (in the most playful sense). If there are any trigger warnings you'd like me to add in the future (and/or to this fic), PLEASE let me know! I am always happy to oblige.

This is a ticklefic! If that's not your cup of tea, kindly move along.

This is my first fic for Hazbin Hotel, so any feedback would be welcomed and deeply appreciated! (also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future work - I'm quite sure this'll be FAR from my last fic for this fandom hehe)

Hope you enjoy!

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

Ever since he'd discovered glam metal, Angel has been blasting it nonstop from his room.

Unfortunately, his room happens to be directly beneath Alastor's... and the insulation in the hotel's walls leaves an awful lot to be desired. The Radio Demon's eye had been in a constant twitch for three days by the time he'd finally had enough.

"Alastor? Have you seen Angel's speakers?"

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

When Charlie appears in his doorway, the demon in question is sitting comfortably on his couch, sipping a mug of black coffee and reading a newspaper (though Charlie isn't sure how he acquired it - the local paper has been out of print for weeks).

"No. But I've certainly had the displeasure of hearing them."

"They've gone missing. Do you have any idea where they might be?"

"Far away, I hope."

Charlie rolls her eyes and leaves to go consult the other guests. The deer takes a long draw from his mug.

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

To Alastor's slight irritation, he only enjoys a few minutes of peace before the princess' voice echoes from the hall again.

"Oooh, Al...." Charlie sings.

"What is it, my dear?" the Radio Demon sings back absently.

"Nifty says she saw you with Angel's speakers yesterday."

"Did she?" He flips a page of his newspaper.

"Look, all I need to know is where you put them."

Long pause. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"Alastor."

"Whaaat?" Though his eyes haven't left the page, his grin has widened slightly. "You think I'm lying?"

"You're always lying. That's your thing."

"...Touché."

Charlie perches on the sofa beside him.

"Are you gonna tell me where it is or not?"

"Fine. I'll be completely honest with you."

She perks up.

"I would honestly die a second death before subjecting myself to one more note of that infernal garbage."

Alastor's eyes flick up from his paper for the briefest of seconds, just to watch the bubbly princess' face fall into a delightfully exasperated scowl.

"You can't steal someone's stuff just because it annoys you!"

"On the contrary. That's exactly what I did."

Charlie narrows her eyes. "Alastor. You tell me where Angel's speakers are or else."

Alastor chuckles in spite of himself - Charlie's attempts to be intimidating never fail to amuse him.

"What's so funny about that?"

"My dear, I say this with the utmost respect and admiration for your many talents: there's a reason I tend to be the one called upon to scare off demonic threats."

Charlie huffs and crosses her arms. "Just because you're creepier and... more sadistic than me, doesn't mean I don't have ways of making you talk."

"Oh?" Alastor arches a skeptical eyebrow at his paper.

"So you better watch your step, Mister."

"Hmm. You make a compelling case." He flips another page. "Maybe I should tell you where Angel's poor excuse for music is."

Charlie brightens. "Really?"

"No."

The princess deflates.

He's right, of course: even if Charlie figures out a way to make herself legitimately threatening to the Radio Demon... he's the fucking Radio Demon. She may be the Princess of Hell, but she doesn't want to have to rebuild the hotel from rubble all over again.

The two sit in impassive silence for a few minutes - Charlie glaring at Alastor, Alastor staring stubbornly at his paper - until she finally stifles a sigh and slouches against the cushions. He's enjoying this, she just knows it. Sitting there with that stupid grin. He's probably been laughing to himself all night, imagining poor Angel waking up and finding his most prized possession missing.

She finds herself wishing she could make the old deer laugh himself sick sometime, just to teach him a lesson.

...Which is a horrible thought! Charlie's eyes widen, her brow furrowing in self-disgust. She could never bring herself to hurt Alastor, even via laughter.

In fact, she quite likes his laugh - it's a little maniacal, sure, and certainly hard to truly enjoy amid the gory contexts that typically trigger it. But if she knew a way to make him laugh at something other than another person's expense, she'd probably do it all the time... it's just that the things that make him laugh also tend to make Charlie nauseous.

Once again, the princess finds herself completely baffled by her own subjects. How one could be so tickled by anything that goes on down here - the pain, the violence, the gore...

Charlie tilts her head. She may have just gotten an idea.

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

If Alastor had happened to cast a quick glance down the couch, the smile creeping across Charlie's face would've been enough to give him real pause.

But since he is instead stubbornly focused on his paper, he is completely unprepared for the fingers that suddenly begin crawling oh-so-gently up his side.

To her initial disappointment, Charlie finds at least three layers of fabric dampening her touch, and aside from a subtle flinch at first contact, Alastor himself remains perfectly still.

But then a low buzz of radio static swells around them. As she probes up his ribs, she can hear a soft crinkle of paper as his grip tightens.

"Charlie..." His voice is oddly clipped.

"Mm?" Charlie takes one glance at his face, and her smile deepens - even Alastor's signature grin can't mask the effect. He's still technically staring at the paper, but his eyes have gone wide and blank. He opens his mouth to continue just as her fingers reach his armpit - and his jaw quickly clamps shut. It's clearly taking everything in him not to squirm.

"Got something to say, Al?" She starts pinching back down his ribcage.

"Mmph!" The giggles start in his chest, bubbling up and fighting to escape through clenched teeth. Soon his shoulders are shaking with the effort of holding them in.

"...Maybe about the location of a certain object?"

No response. The radio demon just curls forward a little, hiding his face in his paper.

Taking advantage of this new posture, Charlie slips her other arm around behind him, and gives a good pinch to both sides of his slender waist.

The demon straightens right back up with an audible gasp and tiny squeak of surprise (that he quickly tries to cover with a cough).

"Charlie! Are you s-seriously trying to-"

"Are you seriously ticklish?"

"No!"

In response she delivers another series of pinches to the same spot. His posture crumples again, until finally he loses his grip on his paper and twists to face her.

"No?" she giggles. And squeezes him again.

"Stop that!" He fumbles at her fingers, trying to pry them off his sides.

Instead Charlie swaps her hands, wrapping her fingers around his waist with both thumbs resting lightly on his stomach... and begins digging them right under his lower ribs.

That finally does it. He flinches back with a little snort, followed by soft but utterly helpless giggles pressed shyly into his hands.

"Awww!" Charlie coos.

"Keheh- f-fuckin'- heheh! - quiet!" His voice cracks amusingly on the last word.

There are about fifteen different things Charlie is dying to say as Alastor goes to pieces with laughter, but she can't think of anything that wouldn't risk embarrassing the poor guy - and humiliating him is the last thing she wants to do. The fact that Alastor hasn't instantly dissolved into shadows (or cursed her across the room) hasn't been lost on the princess; she is NOT about to jeopardize this moment by making him uncomfortable enough to do so.

That said, she is conducting an interrogation here.

"What was that about not being ticklish?"

His clutching at her wrists becomes more frantic. "Don't-!"

Alastor hyperventilates a couple times, trying to get ahold of himself - but then she continues squeezing down the sides of his belly, and he can only collapse into even worse laughter.

"I think I know just how to get you to talk..."

"Nohoho- ahagh, Charlie! Shihihit!"

Charlie shifts onto her knees for better leverage, gives him a gentle push backward, and pins him (surprisingly easily) against the couch. Her snaggle-toothed grin looms over him...

For a split-second, Alastor gets a flash of what his victims must've seen moments before they debuted on his show.

But he's pretty sure this isn't quite how they felt about it. He's already shaking with anticipatory giggles, grinning back at her wider than ever. And the giddy panic behind his eyes quickly forms an unlikely union with defiance.

"Do your worst, my dear."

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To be continued... pt. II is already in the works, so stay tuned!!

Until next time - hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💕

💜 - Cozy

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

ANOTHER CHAPTER ALREADY?!

I mean

I dunno what happened

It kinda wrote itself, I had no real hand in this

Please consult with my muses on the subject, I didn't know they were this cracked out tonight

Anyway awaaaay we gggoooooooooo

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 7 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

First Chapter link Previous Chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He's discovered your secret, and your life hangs in the balance of his mercy.

Possible !!Trigger Warnings!! in this chapter!! Largely for imprisonment and psychological turmoil, though not necessarily psychological torture yet. I will say, for readers who are used to my writing characters with a relatively gentle depiction, I likely won't be taking quite as gentle of an approach here. There is some Yandere possessiveness prevalent here that I haven't written much before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,095

Taglist: @i-am-vita @browneyedhufflepuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @littleleelee @nerium-lil @schanwow @dragon-bubs @animefreak818

I'm happy to add anyone that asks. Still flabbergasted that the list is this long.

I forgot to do a music thing last time bc I was so sleepy but I'mma do one this time but IT'S NOT FRATELLIS?? WHO IS EVEN RUNNING THIS BLOG?? SHOULD YOU CALL THE AUTHORITIES??

♫♬The Game- Disturbed♬♫

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do, now that I've allowed you to beat me?

Do you think that we could play another game? Maybe I could win this time

Dead, you were dead, he was going to kill you, and all he would have to do to get the job done would be to leave your right there in the shallows and let the tide slowly wash in until you were submerged, drained of strength and helpless.

To tighten his powerful grip around your neck until you ceased gasping for air.

To pull the golden cross from around his neck and plunge the small knife hidden within it into your torso, drag the sharp blade across your neck, watch the light leave your eyes.

So many ways he could kill you, in this very moment.

And yet his hand moved up your neck slowly, his grip unwavering as his fingers wrapped around your jaw instead. He tilted his head the slightest bit as he turned your head to one side, taking in your features with an air of both amusement and vague interest.

“And you were doing so well,” he said lightly, letting out a small sigh as he shook his head. You flinched as the rough pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek. “If you could have just refrained from making that silly little call to your boss last night—aw,” he added, an edge of mockery in his quiet words. “Did you think I was sound asleep the whole time? Poor thing.”

It hadn’t appeared as if he had done more than shift from his back to his side in the time you were gone last night—there had been absolutely no sign that he had gotten out of bed, not a single sound outside the cracked door of the study.

You should have known better.

“Though I must say, I do appreciate the vote of confidence.” Mihawk stood in a swift motion, tightening his grip around your jaw to pull you up with him, drawing a sharp gasp of alarm from you as your feet lifted a few inches from the ground. Still drenched in seawater, you didn’t even have the strength to lift your arms, held up only by his grasp, limp as a ragdoll. “‘No weaknesses.’ I’m almost flattered.”

You swallowed as he brought you closer, lifting his eyebrows a bit, the corner of his mouth curving the smallest bit into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Provided it wasn’t a lie. You have quite the penchant for fooling others, it seems.” He quirked his brow a bit higher, his eyes darting up and down your limp form before settling back on yours. “Well? Was it a lie?”

“Mm—n-no,” you managed to choke out weakly, your eyes wincing and beginning to burn as his fingertips dug harder into your jaw and cheeks. “No…”

“No?” he repeated lightly. “Now, I’m sure you can do better than that, considering how polite you were with your employer last night. And I’m afraid it’s not them you’re answering to anymore. Try again.”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes flickering down toward his hand. “N—no, sir,” you whimpered.

“Ah, much better. Now, then….” The spark of amusement remained present in his yellow eyes as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek once again. “I suppose we should get you back inside and dried off, yes? I’d hate to see you get sick, pet.”

Your stomach felt as if it had dropped out of your body when he lifted you abruptly and flung you over his shoulder, your consciousness wavering between the complete sapping of your strength from the seawater still drenching your clothes and the state of shock you were left in. You drifted in and out during the trek back to the castle, your muscles limp and useless. You didn’t jolt back to a remotely aware state until he heaved you off and dropped you onto the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar part of the castle.

“I do just hate to have to cage you after all this time,” he said as you gazed around, your eyes squinted against the darkness. Judging from the lack of windows, you were below the ground level—and this was confirmed when he lit a torch along the wall opposite the one you were leaning against. “Nearly two months, it’s been, hasn’t it? Hmm. How the time flies.”

The dim orange light of the flame expanded as he lit another, and you realized he had deposited you in a small, square cell. The stone walls and floor were the same as the rest of the castle, if a great deal dustier, but the heavy iron bars and door made it clear that you were in the dungeon beneath the fortress.

“But, you’ve really left me no choice,” he went on with a soft, disappointed sigh. You could just make out his silhouette against the flickering firelight, the rattle of chains as he dug around in the drawer of a heavy desk just within your line of sight. “At least for now. I can’t have you escaping before we have a proper discussion about…” He lifted a heavy pair of iron shackles, examining them before giving a short nod. “About several things, really.”

He stepped slowly into the cell, his pace one of leisure, and stopped a few feet away from you, looking down at your pitiful form as you leaned back against the stone wall of the cell, struggling to steady your breathing, shivering in your damp clothes. He frowned as he looked you up and down, and gave a nod toward you.

“Off,” he said, his voice low but commanding enough that you jumped slightly, your brow furrowing as you tried to discern his meaning. “Off,” he repeated. “Can’t have you getting sick. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Your clothes. You glanced down at the wet fabric clinging to your skin, your stomach turning—he was telling you to get out of your clothes.

“Oh, modest, are we?” he said dryly, lifting an eyebrow. He took another step forward, crouching in front of you. You flinched back a bit when he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Two months you’ve spent constantly at my side. I’m certain I’ve changed clothes in your presence more than a handful of times.”

“I...I didn’t...look,” you whimpered out, swallowing, closing your eyes as your face flared with heat.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I did find that curious, but you were quite the curious little bird.” You opened your eyes when you heard the chains of the shackles clink lightly, and watched as he stood, rolling his eyes as he turned around, his back to you. “Fine,” he said. “You may keep your undergarments. They’ll dry quickly enough.”

You almost wished that he had just killed you out by the shore. The embarrassment, the utter humiliation of pulling your tank top over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the towering form of the swordsman only a few feet away was enough to make you wish you could drop dead on the spot. You fumbled with your belt buckle, the buttons at the fly of your pants, before kicking them off along with your boots, wrapping your arms around your knees and clenching your eyes shut, trembling from more than just the cold, damp air of the dungeon now.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and before you could open your eyes you felt the material land in a heap at your feet. You cracked an eye open and frowned at the white heap.

Glanced up at him, your eyes widening as you realized he had removed his flowy, ruffled shirt, his back and shoulders bare as he crossed his arms, still facing the door of the cell.

“Put it on,” he commanded, stepping out of the cell. “And quickly. I pride myself on many things, my dear pet, but patience is not among them.”

You were already picking up the shirt and shrugging it around your shoulders before he finished, fumbling with the buttons with unsteady hands. The shirt was large enough on your much smaller form that it covered you from your shoulders to more than halfway down your thighs, the hem brushing your knees as you tugged it down, staring down at the floor, listening to the chair at the desk scrape across the stone. He set it down in front of you and tossed the shackles down at your feet, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“Those as well,” he said.

The moment your hand touched the shackles, you felt what little strength you had managed to regain begin to drift away from your body all over again. He chuckled when you drew your hand back as if you had been shocked.

“Seastone,” he said. “I salvaged them from the wreckage of a Marine vessel a handful of years ago. Thought they might prove useful one day. Go on.” He nodded down at them as you briefly met his eyes. “Around your ankles. So long as you remain compliant, I will allow you the continued use of your hands. You may need them at some point.”

You didn’t dare ask what that might mean.

You did, however, do as he told you. The seastone shackles felt as if they weighed fifty or more pounds, and it took some effort for you to drag them up even to the height of your ankles and clamp them shut.

“Very good,” he commended, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving you as you slumped back weakly against the walls. “Still such an obedient pet, aren’t you?” Every breath you drew in took a herculean effort, felt as if it might be the last you managed to draw before you passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. “Now, this is a first on my part. I’ve never been one to waste time taking prisoners. You ought to consider yourself privileged. Grateful for my continued hospitality despite your blatant betrayal.”

You swallowed, unable to do anything but give a weak nod.

He gave another small chuckle. “You’ve been trained to handle being the victim of a potential hostage situation,” he commented—it wasn’t a question. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “You’re quite small for a Marine. What rank are you, little bird?”

“Cadet,” you forced out—and, when he lifted an eyebrow, you quickly added, “s—sir.”

“Cadet,” he repeated, leaning back a bit further. “Hm.” He lifted a hand to his chin, his expression thoughtful as he brushed his thumb across his short goatee. “And they saw fit to send you after me.” You nodded again. “Your commanding officers either have a great amount of faith in your potential or they were trying to get rid of you. Which do you think it was?”

“T...they offered me the mission,” you said quietly. “I could have turned it down.”

“Faith in your potential, then,” he said lightly. “What a pity for them Of course, they weren’t wrong,” he went on, lowering his hand down to his knee, strumming his fingers there slowly. “You did play your role well. Well enough to fool that charming pet shop owner in Acacia, even. A veritable expert on the subject. You must have done your homework. Breezed through all your tests with flying colors. I did my own homework, as you know. Amid my reading, I recall mention that wounded or sick pets might show signs of decreased appetite. Interruption of sleep. In extreme cases, potentially isolating themselves from their owners. You see…” He tilted his head once more to meet your eyes, his gaze holding your own with an intensity that made it impossible for you to break the contact. “Had I not woken last night we might not even be having this conversation. Had I not noticed your absence and worried enough to go looking for you.”

Your worry over your mission. Your inability to eat or sleep regularly. Of course he had noticed. You were an idiot to think he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Had I not heard a voice coming from the study below my chambers,” he went on, lowering his voice, “you might have been able to complete your mission without a single hitch. I would have been forced to assume when you left that you had flown off somewhere to die.”

You flinched at that, closing your eyes and lowering your head.

“Oh, now what is this?” He chuckled. “Are we feeling guilty?”

“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth—there was no point in lying. You were already compromised, already at his mercy. “I…made the call last night because I…I couldn’t leave with nothing to show for it. Or without…” You swallowed once more, lowering your head to your knees. “I only had four days left. I was expected to slip away unnoticed and rendezvous with my commanding officers at a designated location before returning to Marineford to report on any potential weaknesses of yours I might have discovered.”

“And you claimed you found none,” he continued for you.

You nodded. “But...caring for another living creature is always a potential weakness,” you said quietly.

“Aaah.” You swallowed dryly, clenching your eyes shut tighter as you heard him push the chair back. The whisper of his boots on the stone floor as he took a step forward, the quiet rustle as he crouched down in front of you. “And you were unwilling to list your own presence as a potential weakness. Is that it?” You nodded again, and tensed as he caught your chin in his hand. “And here I’ve already admitted to having worried for the well-being of my pet. You certainly did do a stellar job, didn’t you, my little bird?”

His tone, his touch was almost gentle, despite that edge of persisting amusement at your predicament.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed his command once again—though your eyelids fluttered in your growing state of exhaustion brought on by the effects of the seastone shackles wrapped around your ankles, you did your best to maintain eye contact, only vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across your bottom lip as you gazed into his yellow irises.

“I may yet have use for you,” he murmured, his voice still light and amused. “I suppose you are a pretty little thing, if nothing else. And your abilities...well, you managed to fool me, now, didn’t you? Don’t,” he added, his tone sharpening as your eyes began to drift shut, and they shot back open. “There’s one more matter. You spoke of some offer while you were making your call last night. What is it?”

“W...warlord,” you forced out. “The World Government wants to offer pirates they consider too dangerous to combat status as ‘Warlords.’ No more than seven. Bounties expunged in exchange for an agreement to cease hostility against Marines and other World Government officials, and potentially being called upon to assist with other threats.”

“Warlords,” he repeated, letting out a quiet chuckle. “And you’ve been granted permission to extend me this offer?” You gave a small nod, blinking slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Since you’ve reported to your commanding officers that I have no weaknesses they can exploit.” Another nod, and a quiet affirmative hum. “Mm-hmm,” he repeated, smirking. “I suppose it’s worth thinking over. At least until you’ve regained the ability to discuss the subject coherently.”

“Four days.” He lifted his eyebrows at your mumbling, waiting for you to continue. “Need to make contact in four days or they could send a Buster Call.”

“Ah.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you found yourself leaning unconsciously toward the warmth of his palm. “So they would sink this entire island into the depths of the ocean with you still on it, would they?” The hum you gave this time was neither affirmative nor dissenting—it was simply in acknowledgment that he had spoken at all, as your lessening coherency made it increasingly difficult to follow his words. “That does sound quite like the Marines. Heaven forbid they should have any loose ends to worry about.”

He expelled a slow sigh, one that might have been of resignation or annoyance, or perhaps some melding of both. Either way, the warmth of his breath across your face made your eyes drift shut, made you fall fully limp against the wall behind you.

You barely registered anything beyond that. Not his light shake at your shoulder in attempt to rouse you, his exasperated sigh as he caught you before you could fall sideways and hit your head against the stone floor.

Not his irritated grumble of, “Troublesome woman,” as he drew one of your hands up to cushion your head against the hard stone floor before he pulled himself to his feet to frown down at you.

To wonder why he hadn’t shoved his way through the door of his study the moment he heard your voice last night and throttled you in that moment.

To wonder why the hell he still had any concern at all for your continued safety and well-being.

You had spent two months, two months deceiving him, abusing his good will, masquerading as a loyal companion when you were nothing more than a dirty little spy.

His hands twitched into fists for a moment as he stared down at you, gritting his teeth. He could end your life right now. It would be only too easy. Crush your throat beneath the heel of his boot. Wrap a hand around your delicate neck until the labored rise and fall of your chest ceased entirely. You had already warned him of the Marines’ potential intent to destroy this island. He could dispose of you and leave on his own before that ever came to pass.

You shifted in your sleep on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly and laying a hand over the toe of one of his boots.

Mihawk swore under his breath, reaching behind him to drag the chair back into place and sit down heavily, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed your slight form below him on the floor covered only by his own shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with you?” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head, not completely aware himself of how his own gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Useless thing….”

His prisoner.

His pet.

His pretty little bird.

He would be damned if anyone but him were allowed to decide your fate.

First chapter and Previous chapter links again for your convenience

[moethh]

dashboard simulator but with saints

⚔ knight--lover Follow

I ASKED FOR ROMANCE BOOKS AND THIS IS WHAT THEY GAVE ME???!?!??? WHAT AM I LOOKING AT????? 💀💀💀

♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow

nvm this stuffs good 💀

#like actually??? #gonna keep reading these while my leg is still healing #recovery update

15 notes

🌹 littlefl0wer Follow

cosplay!

♻️ ⚜ born-to-do-this Follow

Oh this is incredible! I love it!

♻️ 🌹 littlefl0wer Follow

oh my goodness?! thank you so much!! ❤️❤️❤️

#wow! i didn't know you would actually see this! #i'm so happy you like it!! #<3 #edit: we're mutuals now!!!

442 notes

🌟 host-prince Follow

EVERYONE‼ Below is a list of users who are ACTUAL DEMONS. PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM. Just block and report. Stay safe everyone.

Keep reading

#I am not going to add trigger or content warnings to this post as I want people to see it. #However #you are obviously free to add them to your own reblogs if you wish to do so.

15,837 notes

🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

🤔

♻️ 💧 locustman Follow

???? Uncle???????? What is this????? What does this Mean????????

♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

👍

♻️ 💧 locustman Follow

???????????????????????????????????? @'mom? Can you explain? Please????

♻️ 👑 mom Follow

Idk

♻️ 🔨 just-a-carpenter Follow

👍

1,118 notes

⚔ knight--lover Follow

PH M

OH MY GOSH. Ok. Rant incoming.

So there's this guy I'm traveling with and GET THIS: HE DOESN'T BELIEVE IN @/mom's PERPETUAL VIRGINITY?!?!??!?!

I'm thinking of killing him. Like. Actually. I'm not even kidding. I genuinely can't decide whether or not I should kill him.

So you guys should decide:

#rant #my polls #tw antidicomarian #cw antidicomarian #please vote or else i'll just let my horse decide for goodness' sake

216 notes

👑 mom Follow

Alright, someone tagged me on @knight--lover's poll so this is my response to it:

♻️ ⚔ knight--lover Follow

Hm. I'll think about it.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

♻️ 👑 mom Follow

YOUNG MAN.

#Ignatius. Come on.

523 notes

🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

Wow! I've just found a ton of these little guys in a part of the monastery I've never been in before!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

seems like your monastery needs one of these

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

NO!!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

what? don't like cats?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

I LIKE THE MICE!!

♻️ 👤 purrtrude

if you could save all the mice in the world, would you if all the cats starved to death?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

??? What?????? I am so confused.

Are you implying that cats only eat mice, and if they couldn't, then they would just. Die? What is happening.

♻️ 🕯 claaaaaare Follow

Hey, @fraaaaaancis. Just curious how you would solve this.

♻️ 🐺 fraaaaaancis Follow

Hm. Well, it seems that St. Gertrude's situation is implying that you could only save either all cats or all mice with no survivors on the other side. To me, she is just asking which animal you like more.

There is really nothing to solve? This whole situation is very strange.

♻️ 🐱 gertie-the-kitty Follow

THATS NOT EVEN ME??? WHO IS THAT THAT IS NOT ME

@host-prince @host-prince @host-prince??????

♻️ 🌟 host-prince Follow

purrtrude is definitely Not You.

♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow

OP is this your post?

♻️ 🐭 martin-n-mice Follow

#wghhhhghghhh #i just wanted to show off the mice...... #they're living happily by the way! i bring them food!

374 notes

🎨 luke-the-artpostle Follow

#my art #artists on christblr

1,852,658 notes

🐲 marthamartha Follow

look at this Thing. with that look you would probably think that the man just so happened to crawl in its mouth. what a Creature.

anyways does anyone have a sword

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

WILL PEOPLE IN THE NOTES STOP TELLING ME TO KEEP IT??? AS IF IT HASN'T KILLED PEOPLE?????

in case anyone forgot, this is a literal DRAGON

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

@turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side???????????? what??????????

♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow

I fail to see what needs explaining. Where did it live?

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

I-

Ok. It lived in the water.

♻️ 🍳 turn-me-over-im-done-on-this-side Follow

hm. Maybe it would taste like fish?

♻️ 🐲 marthamartha Follow

Maybe. I honestly don't know what the townspeople did with the body. They just asked me for help 🤷‍♀️

♻️ 📜 more-of-thomas Follow

#??????????????? #I am somewhat concerned for you two #(for all of my mutuals actually but as of seeing this post right now I am very concerned for Lawrence especially) #But I shan't say that I'm surprised considering that Lawrence told jokes while he was burning alive #and now that's his username for some reason #As a fellow joke-maker I suppose I admire that? #But as a human being I am concerned

563 notes

[whorediaries-09]

Helloo could I please request a fic with Sirius' girlfriend or wife taking care of him, making sure he eats enough and keeping him company, and him being touch-starved, in Grimmauld Place during OoTP? Thanks!

call it what you want

pairing- sirius black x wife!auror!reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort, fluff, touch sensitivity (let me know if i should add more) an- i love this plot so much, thank you dear anon! (also i love writing about post azkaban sirius black 😳) ps- requests are open! part two? 👺💅

masterlist

'hey love?' you called out. sirius held a cigarette between his pale pink lips blowing out smoke out of his mouth. he turned his head, looking at you when he heard your voice. but your eye's weren't fixated on his, but the ash tray that held burnt out cigarettes he'd been smoking when you'd been gone. he sat on the moth eaten sofa his tired gray eyes trying to meet yours. you sigh, flinging your bag on a chair as you walk towards him, wiping your brow with the hem of your sleeve.

'have you eaten anything dear?' you say as you sit beside him. you sit close to him, but not close enough to touch him. he grumbles something under his breath and you squint your eyes trying to decipher what he is saying.

'sirius?' you say. your hand twitches. you want to touch him, comfort him, but you're scared it will trigger him. you're scared he won't like that. you want to comfort him, it breaks your heart seeing the dignity of your husband, of the love of your life crumbling down but it doesn't matter. you want him to feel safe. you want him to feel comfortable around you till he is comfortable enough to let him touch you.

his body twitches slightly before he whispers, 'might have had a few sandwiches. i forgot,'

you raise an eyebrow. interlinking your hands together so you don't accidentally touch him, you say with a soft yet firm tone,

'and water? what about water? did you drink enough?'

'i do not remember,' he grumbles. he's twitchy and shifty while he speaks. you let out a deep breath before you conjure a glass of water and hand it to sirius.

'love can you drink this for me? please?' you inquire. his stormy gray eyes stare into yours before his hands clasp around the glass of water. he lets the rim of the glass touch his lips before slowly sipping the water. he gulps down the rest of the water and puts the glass on the table before offering you a weak smile. you smile back, furrowing your eyebrows. you see his hands twitching before he speaks again,

'i found some old polaroids,'

'did you now love?'

'yes...'

there's a silence that hangs in the air that tortures the depth of your heart but you don't break it. you don't want to pressure him into saying anything. you don't want him to feel like what his image in the wizarding world is. you don't want to ask him prying questions.

'can i hold your hand?' he whispers softly. you look at him. his dark raven locks frame his diamond cut face, the churning wood of the flames reflecting the depth of his stormy gray irises.

'are you sure?' you question back. he nods his head curtly before his pinky finger intertwines with yours. he smiles, his hollow cheeks spreading as you interlock your hands. his hand is the same as you could remember, rough, calloused and warm. you feel his body grow stiff at the contact and you try to pry your palm away but he holds it firmer. he holds your hand firm, slowly melting by your touch. he doesn't say anything, and neither do you.

you charm a flower on his ear, tucking his messy curls behind his ear. you smile noticing the crinkles of his eyes when he smiles, leaning into your touch. his nose scrunches and you think, he looks majestic.

it's a storm outside. however when he leans his head on your shoulder, the storm simmers away. it's warm inside as the both of your hearts burn with love for each other.

'i love you dove,' he whispers.