#i'm so angry because i should go outside and look for him but i can't even picture myself out of this house

[sudokuplayer]

i'm so angry and heartbroken and i think this is all i will ever be

[dawnwriterimagines]

The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

[hairmetal666]

Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.

But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.

They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.

Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.

It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.

"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.

Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?

"No, of course not," he answers too fast.

"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."

"That's not true! We're in one together right now."

Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."

Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.

"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.

Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."

Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."

"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."

He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.

They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.

"You're a shit liar, Harrington."

"Ed--I'm not--"

"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.

"Don't be stupid, Munson."

"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."

"I do not. Grow up."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"

"There isn't--"

"Stop lying!"

"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"

Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.

"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"

Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."

"It was the wrong one!"

"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."

"But you didn't."

"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."

"It doesn't matter."

"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"

"Yes, I can! I know."

"You don't! You think--"

"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"

Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.

Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"

"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"

And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."

"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.

In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.

"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"

"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."

They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.

"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"

"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."

[luveline]

we know that the criminal minds writers looooved hurting spencer but i would love to see bau!reader (bombshell!reader if you think it would fit) hurt and spencer losing his mind a little (ofc everything would end up being okay because we love fluff in this house 💗)! thank youuu <333

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1k

“Spencer, are you coming in?” 

The boy in question winces, the cellophane wrapped stems in his hand strangled by an anxious grip. Your voice is hoarse, quieter than usual, though that could be attributed to the thick wooden door between you both. He takes the door handle in his hand, readjusts his fingers, can't quite get himself to go in. 

“Spence,” you say, missing your usual cheer. “Please come in.” 

He opens the door slowly. It weighs a hundred pounds, each inch heavier than the last. 

You're propped up on the movable bed with a dinner table over your legs. Someone's brought you contraband, it seems, expensive soup from the fancy restaurant you like just outside of work. Next to it lies your phone, your chapstick, and a prescription bottle. The orange of it is too glaring to look at for long. 

“Nice to see you finally, heart-throb,” you say, sitting back, rolling your shoulders as you smile. “Where've you been?” 

Sapped by terror in the waiting room, mostly. “Sorry,” he says, offering no explanation. You deserve one, but he can't get the words out. “How are you feeling?” 

“Shot at.” 

“Is it bad?” 

Your eyes soften. “No. Wanna see it?” 

He does in an awful way. To alleviate his panic, sure, but to know what it did. To see what his stupidity resulted in. The unforgivable in stark scarring. 

You lift your shirt and shift your soft bralette up a touch to show him the wound and all its grim stitches. “It almost missed me. Guess I'm not as lucky as I think.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not right now. They told me not to wear wire bras for a while, so you win some, you lose some.” You let your shirt fall back into place. He can see the indecision in your eyes. Not one for hiding like he wants to, you address the elephant in the room. “Now you've seen it's not so bad, can you look at me again?” 

“I'm looking at you.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

The thing is, Spencer doesn't, not really. Half the time you act like you're sharing a secret with him but he doesn't have a clue what you're talking about, and the intimacy is lost, and it's his fault. He's never been good or smooth or charismatic, he's never deserved your attention, and it's his fault you're here, hurting, his fault you'd been prone on the ground, his fault Morgan had to hold your side closed, his fault you almost died. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “you know I don't blame you.” 

Of course he knows that. 

“You should,” he says tightly. He doesn't mean to get angry. 

“Well, I don't. So give me my flowers and sit down.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. He's mad, but he gives you the flowers without any roughness, and you take them with a similarly thin thank you. 

Your reunion isn't going how either of you wants it to, it seems. 

Spencer sits in the chair next to your bed as you pick between the petals, admiring their colours, their softness. For a moment you're peaceful, but you close your eyes and press your nose gently to a small bud, and you ask, “Why are you acting like this?” Heartbroken. 

He could explain it in halves. You passed out in the back of the ambulance. Your surgery had unexpected complications. Hotch was so angry, and he still wasn't as mad at Spencer as Spencer was at himself. 

Seeing you hurt because of his mistake isn't a feeling he thinks he'll survive a second time.

“I don't get why you like me,” Spencer admits. “Not before, and especially not now. You should be pissed. This,” —he gestures to you quickly— “is my fault.” 

“It's not your fault, Spence.” 

“What would you call it?” 

You put your flowers down and stare at your lap. He's pushed you too far. Nice, he thinks to himself scathingly, to upset you in your sick bed, that's exactly what he should be doing to make it up to. Great going, Spencer. 

“Will you hold my hand?” you ask quietly. 

He hesitates, his heart skipping a beat like a missed step down the stairs. 

“Please? I just… this has been a lot. I'm not telling you to make you feel guilty, I swear, but it's been a lot. And so many times I wished someone was here. I wished you were here.” You turn your head away from him. “I thought you were mad at me. I'm still worried.” 

Spencer stands up. He feels every stretch of muscle as he does it. You raise your eyes to his, holding out your hands; you know him better than anyone else, he thinks. He overcompensates every time. 

“I'm sorry,” he says, crossing his arms behind your shoulders carefully. 

“I told you it's not your fault.” 

“For not being here to hold your hand.” 

Your hand curls in the front of his shirt. 

“M'not mad. Not even slightly. I mean, not at you…” He rubs your back with his thumb. “Why would I be mad at you?” 

“What was I supposed to think?” 

He presses his nose to your temple, eyes squeezed close in regret. “...You're right.” 

This is what he should've done the moment you woke up. Instead, he let his mind focus on detail, what flowers demarcates remorse, or if cellophane wrapping would be an imposition. Anything to forget how your hands shook as the adrenaline wore off. 

They're steady now as they wrap around his sides to rest at the small of his back. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, lips touching to your skin with each syllable, like fractions of kisses. 

“I missed you, handsome. Please– don't do that again.” 

He rubs your back. “I won't,” he promises. “I'll be here as long as you want me to be.” 

“Forever, then.” 

For once, your flirting doesn't make him blush. 

[changetyre]

So what if its the reader and lando are enemies (but both are teammates at mclaren) they absolutely despise each other for no reason and it’ll stay that way (none of this hidden love masked by feelings stuff this time) and they both get stuck in a closet at hq or something and they dont get out for a while. its rlly small in there so there bodies are almost touching always and one thing leads to another but its just steamy stuff but while they still hate eachother but they keep hitting there body parts on stuff in the closet and it keeps getting them more riled up so they just decide to stop?

idk why its so specific or why i thought of this rn but i need it 🙏 feel free to change anything if you’re not comfortable or have other ideas (again sorry about it being a bit long)

i rlly love ur writing 💗honestly so excited to read this one🫶✨

What the f*** did we just do? II Lando Norris x Driver!Reader Ⓦ

SUMMARY: Working with someone you dislike is one thing, but working with someone who brings nothing but the worst side out of you is the hardest thing on the planet.

WARNINGS: **18+**, not proofread, hate.

A/N: Quite short but still hope you enjoy ;)

"You are truly the biggest fucking idiot I have ever met in my entire life." It took everything in you not to punch the man in front of you right now after he once again had successfully taken you both out of the race because he couldn't bear the thought of

"I'm the idiot?!" Lando yelled back at you. "You're the one who couldn't put her fucking ego aside for one fucking second to let the faster car through!" He followed after you as you attempted to get away from him.

The people at McLaren knew it wasn't pretty between you too even on a regular day so whenever you were angry at each other it was best to let you hash it out which meant the rooms and hallways quickly emptied as soon as they saw you both walk in.

"Faster car." you laughed obnoxiously loud. "Maybe that cup did more damage than you imagined-" You gestured to the small cut on his nose. "Since it seems you can't read the data right anymore." You continued laughing at him which only fueled his anger.

"The only thing doing damage to me is you!" He yelled to you again as he kept following you.

You weren't exactly where you were going only hoping he would leave you alone as you opened an unfamiliar door walking into darkness.

"Then maybe you should just-" You were interrupted as you walked into a shelf, Lando bumping into you soon after as you were enveloped in darkness after the door closed after you.

"What the fu*ck, watch out!" Lando muttered annoyed as he attempted to walk back only to hit the door.

"You're the one who's following me around like a lost fucking puppy." You reminded him as you reached for your phone to get some light.

Lando beat you to it lighting up the place and showing the tiny electrical room you had walked into.

"Why the hell did you even walk in here?" He asked you.

"I was trying to get away from you dipshit." You shoved past him as best as you could in the tiny space feeling parts of him that made you gag as you went to try to open the door.

"It's locked from the outside genius don't you think I already tried that?" Lando gestured to the nonexistent door knob.

"HELP! GET ME OUT OF HERE!" You banged on the door yelling hoping someone would hear you.

"OW! Shut the fuck up!" Lando was startled by your screaming.

"I am not staying in here with you another second." You shuffled looking back at him before shuffling again towards the door.

"Shit stop moving." Lando held your waist stilling you.

"Eww get your hands off me!" You slapped his hand away.

"JUST stop moving!" He grits his teeth.

You were about to turn back but felt something in the back of your ass. Once you realized what it was you were ready to yell back at him.

"I swear to god if you don't stop moving-" Lando tried to stop you as you began turning around.

"You're so fucking disgusting, what is your-" Your breath hitched as his hand rubbed at your front all of a sudden.

"This is your fault!" Lando tried cupping himself to stop you from rubbing against him without realizing his hand was pressing against your slit now.

"We have to get out of here-" Lando moved his hand again making your breath hitch again and you thrust forward unintentionally searching for more friction.

"What just-" Lando realized what his hand had grazed this time. "Are you really-"

"You have no right no speak right now!" You reminded him of his own predicament.

"I cannot walk out of here right now with this." Lando pointed the lamp down at the large bulge in his pants.

"What the hell do you want me to do about it?!" You angrily asked him.

"Don't think you can walk out of here with this either!" Lando pressed his finger to your wet core. You grasped his hand tightly.

"Sh*t don't-" You stilled his hand but his finger still pressed against you.

"You're not exactly helping here." He pointed the light back to his bulge which you noticed got tighter.

"Eww, take care of that and I'll take care of myself." You turned back around looking for anything to dry yourself with as Lando proceeded to unzip his pants freeing himself.

"What the f-" You felt Lando's dick against your ass. "Is that?"

"Where the fuck do you expect me to put it?!" Lando defended himself, the lack of space really making this impossible.

You shimmied turning back around realizing this only made it worse as his tip now pressed between your legs directly on your clit.

"Shit, this isn't helping." Lando's head fell back in pleasure.

"Mmm-" You couldn't hold back the moan. "Let's just get this done with fast." You suggested as you opened your legs slightly letting his dick slide between your legs a little further.

"Agh fuck!" Lando was taken aback by the unexpected friction.

"You're gonna get my jeans dirty!" you complained.

"Then take them off!" Lando bit back.

"Turn the light off!" You yelled back at him.

"Fine!" Lando reluctantly agreed shutting off his phone. He heard as your pants unzipped before you moved back slightly as you pulled your pants down.

He expected to feel your bear skin against his dick but what he certainly didn't expect was feeling your folds over his dick moments later.

"Holy sh*t." Lando moaned breathlessly as he could feel your wetness coat his member.

"Let's just hurry up" You said equally breathless thankful you couldn't see anything right now, hoping to imagine Lando was someone else right now and not the person you despised the most on this planet.

You felt Lando pull back as much as the room allowed him before moving forward his dick rubbing against you.

You moaned in pleasure enjoying the friction attempting to move as much as you could too.

"This would go faster if I could just-" Lando started.

"Don't even think about it." You knew what he'd suggest and embarrassingly enough you knew you would finish faster too if he slipped inside you but the thought repulsed you too much still.

"Fine," Lando muttered angrily as you felt him grip your waist and pull you against him as he began thrusting back and forward faster.

You would've complained but the pleasure was too good for you to try to stop it.

"Agh shit-" You moaned as you could feel the knot starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

"Fuck I'm close." Lando panted and you were getting lost in the pleasure.

Your mind was in a haze you forgot who was doing this as your eyes squeezed shut in delight.

"Just fuck me already!" You asked him, a momentary lapse in judgment you had no further time to process as you felt Lando slip inside of you.

"Agh fuck you're so tight." Lando would've cum just from the feeling right then if it wasn't for the reminder that it was you he was inside of.

"Just go harder and shut up." You muttered as Lando obliged picking up the pace and fucking into you.

"Hmm- ahhh- harder!" You were reaching your high and only hoped Lando was near too.

"He began thrusting faster and no more than a few seconds later your legs trembled as you came on his dick, Lando following soon after as he came inside of you. You felt his cum fill you up as you came down from your high trembling at the sensitiveness." You tried catching your breath as Lando pulled out.

A few seconds later the post-orgasm clarity hit you both realizing what had just happened.

"Ewww what the fuck did we just do!" You screamed at him as you could feel his cum start dripping out of you giving you shivers of disgust.

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Lando was also mortified as he felt your wetness around him as he tried to tuck himself away.

Lando banged at the door harder as you grabbed your phone calling for help. You had to get out of here and take a bath in bleach now!

[shikiii-skadi]

Achievement Unlocked: Pet the Grim

SUMMARY: after Idia told you that he would help you with your alchemy project if you get Grim to let him pet him, you immediately went and did just that.

NOTE: inspired by Idias line "If you want help with questions, get Mr. Grim to let me pet him. Then we'll talk." from his labwear card

WARNINGS: none

NAVIGATION: Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

Your grades didn't look too good in some subjects, thanks to the fact that you were sharing your student spot with a gluttonous cat weasel monster, who preferred to cause trouble rather than study properly for your tests.

Professor Crewel made it very clear when he handed you the assignments for this project in Alchemy that you and Grim can't afford to get a bad grade if you want to pass this semester smoothly.

So it was up to you to find a way to make sure you did.

"Grim, listen. I know you hate being compared to a cat but think about it. Just let Idia pet you for a moment and he will help us with the alchemy project." 

"WHAT? Are you kidding? Let that weirdo pet me?! Pfft, forget it! No way I'm lettin' Idia anywhere near me."

Grim, who like so often couldn't see the bigger picture, was fiercely opposed to your suggestion, even after you've been trying to change his mind for a while now.

"What other options do we have? I love Ace and Deuce but they are struggling just as much as we do. If not more," you said trying to make Grim see reason. But in the end, this was probably a waste of energy because Grim still didn't grasp the gravity of your situation. Grim thought he could easily achieve a good grade and that you two weren't actually that bad.

It looked like you had to use your last trump card.

"It's just one small pet. And who knows maybe you deserve an extra portion of tuna after bringing home a good grade in this project, which we probably only get with Idia's help." 

You could see Grim starting to ponder as you said this. "Hmph! You make a compelling argument. ...Alright, fine. I'll let that weirdo touch me. But only ONE pet! That's it! And the extra tuna is non-negotiable!"

“Oh, Grim, I knew I could count on you," you said, although you were referring more to his hunger than him as person.

With this small victory secured, you immediately headed for Ignihyde, before Grim had the chance to change his mind and run away again.

When you arrived in Ignihyde, you were immediately welcomed by Ortho, who told you that Idia was in his room. You didn't really expect Idia to be somewhere else anyway. Was he even able to leave his room?

Ortho also told you that you should just enter Idia's room if he doesn't answer.

"Idia!" you say after opening the door to announce your presence.

"GAH!!" Idia lets out a nervous yelp as his room was suddenly invaded, and the source of the "attack" being... you. "W-what happened to knocking first?!"

"Oh, come on, don't be a drama queen. Ortho told me I should just come in," you reply and enter his dorm room, while Grim stays outside, "But let's not get hung up on this. There is a reason I came to see you. Can you remember our deal? You told me you would help me with this alchemy project if I get Grim to let you pet him."

He groans and crosses his arms. "Ugh... you didn't forget... Did you seriously find a way to get Mr. Grim to let me pet him? He always gets angry whenever I bring it up."

You nod, before turning to the door and calling out to your furry companion. "Grim! Come inside." 

Grumbling could be heard before Grim walked into Idia's room. Grim definitely didn't look happy. It looked like this was his walk of shame of to his execution. He really didn't want Idia to pet him, but the prospect of tuna kept him going.

Idia stared at Grim in disbelief, his mouth agape, before turning to you. "Y-You actually got him to listen to you? H-How did you get him to even move?? I swear, he acts like I'm trying to murder him or something!"

“Tuna usually works wonders for him.”

"Alright, let's get this over with. You better make sure that your hands are washed properly before you touch the Great Grims fur! And just one pet. That's it!" Grim said, crossing his arms and looking away while waiting for Idia to pet him so he could get the tuna you promised him.

With the speed of light Idia runs to the bathroom to wash his hands. Honestly, you have never thought he could move that fast.

After returning he walks up to the cat monster, carefully raising his hands. "Don't worry, my hands are as clean as they could ever be. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, I'm not messing this up!"

He reaches out and finally pets Grim on the head. You watched as a wide smirk formed on Idia's blue lips before he let out that giggle of his, that could only be described as unsettling. "Whee hee...! I can't believe I unlocked the ultra-rare achievement 'Pet the Grim'."

Meanwhile, while Idia looked like he had the best day of his life, Grim only begrudgingly endured Idia's pet. 

"There, the petting session is over. You got what you wanted," Grim said jumping away from Idia, before turning to you, "Now where's my extra tuna?!"

"Stop thinking with your stomach for once, Grim," you answered scolding him slightly before you addressed Idia, "So will you help me with the alchemy project now?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can help you with that alchemy project. But don't expect me to do all the work. Got it? I'm not carrying you the whole way!"

A bright smile formed on your lips when you heard Idia say that. You are overjoyed that your plan worked and that Idia is now going to help you and Grim, which hopefully saves you two from failing your class.  "I wouldn't expect you to. We'll be doing our best!" 

Idia could feel the tips of his hair turning pink when he saw your reaction. "What an absolut cinnamon roll reaction...," he mumbled.

Before you could ask him to repeat what he said, because you didn't understand him, Grim suddenly raised his voice.

"I want my extra tuna-!!"

[x-hotoke]

HEADCANNON jjk men as your sister's ex-boyfriend

writer's note: male reader insert !! PART 1 >,<

warnings: slight yandere themes, stalking, possessiveness, toxic relationships, use of you/your pronouns, cussing.

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, choso, itadori yuji.

— GOJO SATORU

You warned your sister about him yet she never did take anything you say seriously because you were her younger brother. Who are you to say who she can't and can date?

At first, their relationship was going great — he also spoiled you along with your sister which you didn't like. His cocky and egotistical personality is what you hated about him. His constant reminder that he bought that for you, irritated you to the point you have been throwing them discreetly.

He would call you a bunch of nicknames like brother-in-law, y/n chan (to piss you off), otōto-kun.

Whenever he would visit, you would purposely make him look bad in front of your sister, trying to make him angry at you so she can see his true colors. But he was calm — would always humor you, it's like he knows you're trying to get a rise out of him.

After a while, both of them started to drift apart from each other; resulting in a break up — he tried to salvage their relationship by making her go to his house and 'talk it out', luckily you were there trying to comfort her. Seeing the notifications from him, you deleted the messages and blocked him from her phone.

As days went on, unknown phone numbers started calling and messaging the two of you — mostly your sister. Begging for her to come back, and that they'll talk it out and fix it. But oh - for you? They were horrible — you were terrified of going outside. Only going out whenever you were with your father. You don't let your sister go out too, in fear — that Satoru will make his messages come true.

The messages ranged from being sweet to an absolute creepy obsessed guy. It went from:

“How's your sister doing, y/n chan?" “Can you tell her to reply to me soon?” “I miss you guys:((” “When can I see you guys again?” “I hope you're taking care of yourself and your sister well (:”

To; “i will make your lives a living hell, do you hear me? I will fucking ruin your lives.” “No one will believe any of you.” “is that your friends that you're with?” “tell your sister to reply or else i will plaster her face, no, her fucking body on the billboards.” “You look cute when you sleep, otōto kun.”

You didn't feel safe in your own house anymore, did he break in your room? Paranoia affected your high school life — constantly looking over the shoulder. Heck, you would freeze whenever someone with the same blue eyes as him stared at you for too long.

Your sister was overjoyed when she got a message from Satoru — apologizing on how he acted towards her and you. You didn't bring up the messages he would send you during family dinner in fear that your parents would get roped in the situation you were in.

Months went by, your parents said that they have a guest coming in — a friend of your sister. You were in the living room watching some show you were interested in before the door bell rang.

“Satoru! It's nice of you to stop by.” Your sister claims, ushering the tall male to take the seat to you. You weren't aware that he was the guest, oh how you wanted to run upstairs to your bedroom just to get away from this freak. She forgave him?

“Y/n chan, long time no see.” Satoru spoke, his piercing blue eyes staring at the top of your head as you looked at your lap, glaring. “Y/n, you should at least reply - you know?” Your sister huffed out, the bags under her eyes were gone unlike yours.

“It’s fine, really. I'm just glad to see you again.” Satoru waved her off, throwing his right arm around your shoulders as he leaned in next to your face. “No way of getting out of this one huh, otōto kun?” He whispered into your ear, making the hair at the back of your neck stand. There's no escaping this one. “Move and they die.”

His feelings were gone — the obsession he had for your sister moved onto you.

— GETO SUGURU

He was a sweet guy, you actually almost liked him for your twin sister. Keyword: almost.

You hated the man afterwards — His true colors showing once their relationship got serious, you would hear how he would talk to your sister — calling people; monkeys. Berating her for having a different opinion than him and constantly hovering over her shoulder.

You had enough and stormed inside her room, yelling for him to get out or you'll drag him by his hair out the front door. The man complied — once he got close to you, he smiled. It wasn't sincere — it looked psychotic.

The next few days went horrible, Suguru kept on coming back and every time he would — you would answer the door.

“Some nerve of you to show your fucking face here.” You scowled, feeling a shiver go up your spine — seeing the guy smile makes you want to hide yourself. He chuckles, a glint in his eyes catching your gaze, you don't know what it was but you don't intend on finding out.

“I’m here to visit s/n, so if you would be a dear — please call her, love.” He closed his eyes as he smiled even wider. You felt disgusted by his behaviour. “Don't ever call me that again, you freak!” You shouted.

“Fuck off — you two broke up days ago! If I ever fuckin’ see you again around our house, I'll make sure you'll regret it.” You added, closing the door harshly in his face. He didn't do anything, just stood there for a few seconds before turning around and leaving.

As you have read, he likes calling you nicknames. Such as; love, dear, anything that can make your blood boil. He knows you hate him so why not put more gasoline in the fire?

Days passed and you were hanging out with a few friends. You left your sister with your parents to catch up with the rest of your friends. It's been a long time.

You shared some laughs with your friends before noticing something in the corner of your eye. A man dressed in a black sweater and sweatpants amidst the hot season, you couldn't shake off the feeling of paranoia and fear running through your veins. You didn't let that ruin the fun — and yet still keeping an eye on him who was sitting on a bench. But it could just be your imagination.

A few months went by and your sister brought Suguru home. Claiming that he was getting therapy and whatever help he could get. But nothing would suffice the Polaroid pictures of your sister and you in his personalized room. No one can save him.

His second plan — plan B, if your sister was still holding her ground and not taking his advances towards her — he would take you instead. To fill in her spot, her twin. You're her twin after all aren't you? Basically her look alike. That's what he likes about the two of you.

You heard from your mother that your sister has gotten back together with him. You argued with her that night — something you regretted on the next day.

She was gone. Her drawers were laying on the floor scattered — some clothes looked like they were thrown around carelessly and her bags were nowhere to be found. Did she run away? If so — then where. The police filed her in as a runaway but they did still look for her with fruitless attempts.

You would cry in her room for days, curling up in her bed and looking through all her stuff. You stumbled across her diary which had a few disturbing things. Your breath hitched as you read it. She didn't run away — suguru wasn't going to therapy either. It was all a set up, the last pages contained;

He's here.

You froze hearing the window creak open. You didn't have time to react before a black garbage plastic bag was placed over your head.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 1

By the time Eddie is twelve, going to live with his uncle in a trailer in Hawkins, he only has a dozen or so words from his soulmate.

It used to make him guilty, that his soulmate was the kind of person who rarely lied, getting stuck with Eddie who spit lies out like they were the shells of sunflower seeds. Then it made him angry, that he only had a handful of shit like he did it! and I already washed my hands. A small spattering of normal kid shit, while Eddie had to say things like no, officer, I don't know where my father is and Mom's just not feeling well today, Mrs. Anderson.

Then, a year or so before his dad got caught for good, he got It's nothing, I just tripped and Yeah, Mom, I understand, I know he won't do it again and he thought - maybe his soulmate is the kind of kid who knows sometimes it's just better not to say anything.

Eddie can understand that.

Living with Uncle Wayne is - hard. It's hard because it isn't hard, not the way it should be. It makes Eddie say more things that he knows his soulmate will see on his skin, things like I never wanted to be here anyway, and I want to be alone, just leave me alone.

His uncle is endlessly patient, and it grates on his nerves because he wants it. He wants it so bad to be real, but he just - keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to be too much.

For Eddie to be too much for him.

It comes to a head one night when Eddie's mad at him over something or other, asks why he's doing all this.

"You're my kid, and that means I'm not going anywhere," his uncle says, all gruff and raw honesty, and Eddie can't bear it.

"You don't think your soulmate's going to get tired of all these lies that keep showing up?" he snaps, even though he regrets it the moment it's out of his mouth.

He regrets it even more when there's a heavy, aching silence, and he finally looks up at his uncle, eyes wide and terrified as he thinks this is it, he's finally gone too far -

"It's not a lie," Uncle Wayne says finally, holding Eddie's gaze. "You hear me? It's not a lie. I'm not going anywhere."

Eddie nods, and his uncle relaxes a little, then grimaces, like he isn't sure he wants to say anything else.

"I don't have anyone for lies to show up on, anyway."

He says it like it doesn't matter, but Eddie bursts into tears anyway.

Not everyone has a soulmate. The majority of people do, but it's not uncommon for people to never have words written on their skin. In school, they teach that it doesn't mean you can't be happy, it doesn't mean you can't find love. They teach about soulmate bonds that didn't work out - there's whole plays and novels and movies written about that kind of tragedy and misery, after all.

But sometimes there's still an undercurrent of pity, of bitterness. Outside of school - or inside it, when it isn't the teachers talking - some people say there's something wrong with people who don't have soulmates, some people say that they were meant for bigger and greater things.

Some people say that soulmates are supposed to be between a man and a woman, and every time someone who's queer gets a soulmate, it's because they stole them from someone else.

And Eddie doesn't believe that, not really, but he can't help but wonder if maybe his uncle does, and he can't stop crying.

Now his uncle is the one who looks terrified.

"Son, come here, it's all right, it really is." Uncle Wayne gathers him up in his arms, holds him close the way no one's ever done for him before, and just lets him cry and cry and cry.

Later, Eddie thinks about just letting it go, but - he has to know, he just does.

"Do you think someone stole your soulmate from you?" he asks as he's washing dishes, not looking at his uncle and hoping it doesn't sound anything like do you think someone like me stole your soulmate from you?

Uncle Wayne scowls. "That's a load of horseshit, is what I think. No one can control whether they have one soulmate or two or none, and it doesn't make someone greedy or a thief."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. He's known about people with two soulmates before, of course, the same way he knows about people with none - and he's heard the comments about them being greedy same as he's heard comments about them being lucky, or a dozen other things people've theorized to explain it. It's just that it doesn't really tell him what he'd wanted to know, and he can't figure out how to ask without being more specific.

Uncle Wanye is looking at him real close, though, and there's something like a quiet acceptance that flashes over his features.

"No one can control who their soulmate is," he says softly. "Whoever yours is - they were meant for you in a way they aren't meant for anyone else. Love like that can't be stolen, kid, it can only be given."

He thinks about that for a long moment, then nods. "Okay."

"Good," his uncle says gruffly. "Now finish those up and get off to bed."

------

First part of a Steddie and platonic Stobin soulmates AU I'm working on, where any lie you tell gets written on your soulmate! No idea how long this is going to be - it was supposed to be a oneshot but it just keeps growing, so I wanted to share at least the first bit of it.

Now with Part 2

[scara-writes]

orange juice

Beta Female Reader x Y! Omega Male

Beta X Omega I rarely seen those so why not. Let us make it more spicy by making the lead yandere. I still don't understand some concept in omegaverse so... I'm gonna make my own rule lol.

Just a heads up, grammatically errors incoming. Not proof read. Anything that is in this fiction does not meant to offend anyone. That is why it's called fiction.

CW: yandere, cursing, mention of killing.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(THIS IS REPOST BECAUSE I REALIZED THAT SIDE BLOGS HAS LIMITED ACCESS SO I MADE A NEW ACCOUNT ;∆;)

"H-hello!" You turn around to see a familiar face visiting your spa. His pretty purple eyes were eccentric the way it brightened up when he saw you acknowledging him. It's the pretty boy you've saved last week from being pick on by the Alphas.

He was surprised that a beta like you actually didn't get intimidated by the presence of them. Well technically you did, but you pretended to be a police officer showing your fake badge and that 'back-up' is on their way to apprehend them when you noticed they were not buying your bluff at first, thankfully the Alphas that were hovering on him retreated. It was kinda funny they weren't intimidated by you until you held out a fake badge that could get them in trouble by their own law.

That idea was dumb but most people always fell for your trick, though you might get in trouble someday for the false identity which is why you only use it for emergency. Long story short, your aunt taught you this for survival in this dog water society.

At first, the pink haired male glared at you, you could careless about him since you were getting annoyed by the fact that they are giving a ruckus outside your spa and its driving away your customers. You don't want your boss finding out about this. The Alpha who guards outside the house is still taking care of his wife, so all the responsibility falls onto you the only beta employee present the rest are omegas because the other betas and alphas employees has different schedule. You were the 'strongest' among the employees inside.

You stare at the omega for a second.

The heck did you do? Why's he glaring at you?

You mentally shrugged before turning around to go back to your shop, not waiting for him to whether or not he should thank you.

A sudden angry shout from him made you pause from your tracks, "You are the same as those men earlier! I-I don't need you to save me!"

You turn to him with a deadpan look. "What are you on about?"

"Y-you think omega's are powerless and need to be protected, that's why you saved me, right?!" You can see he was quivering a little bit, his eyes are starting to show disgust look towards you. "Y-you think we don't need a jobs or—or we just need to sit still and look pretty—to be use like an incubator!" You can feel in his voice that his emotions must have been bubbling out seeing that his talk is becoming incoherent.

You scratched your head and sigh irritation, "Calm down dude. First of all, that is how Alphas that are 'leading' the society viewed omegas which is bullcrap and I don't believe in that, People who thinks like that need to check their brains in the nearby hospital. Also, I believe everyone can be independent and take care of themselves long as they can, I could careless about what the society says they can't control my life. True, omegas may be weak in nature against others but that doesn't mean all of them are weak or they are only used to look pretty for giving an offspring, they can be independent too if they wanted to. Second, you probably know how to handle them seeing you are very composed earlier but this loud noise is giving me a headache and my customers are leaving because how noisy it was. Now, If I offend you in someway well then I apologize. Bye." You gave him a small lazy wave before turning away not waiting for his response, quickly strolling back to your parlor.

So here he was, late at night. You in a closing hours shift since you are the only masseuse left in the parlor on work except your friend who was waiting for you in the employees room clock out for the work and playing, from the game he just downloaded in his app called something impact. Gin san impact? Gone wrong impact? Whatever it was you were hooked when you saw it earlier and will probably download it once you got home.

"Ah yes, welcome." You acknowledge him, awkwardly. You didn't expect him to meet you on your work. He trudges towards you requesting for service menu. You quickly handed him the said item on what were on the lists of your parlor was offering for customers, telling him to sit down while he read the list of services. He skims around the menu for a few seconds before pointing at the service list and you wrote it down; Shockingly, you witness the stranger you met a week ago was going for too many services.

"Oh umm... We are 2 hours closing in. So I think I can only do the first three." You told him. He gave you an 'oh' before agreeing he will try the others the next time when he visits.

"Do you have a partner?"

He was surprised at your sudden question. So you cleared your throat."It's.... In our protocol to ask our customers...and We know that it is personal question."

You can tell he was weirded out but he told you he doesn't have one. You muttered alright and went ahead to take the menu from him. You put them back on the rack as you walk pass him to put the sign close from the glass entrance before going to a cabinet to carry a towel and some thin white cloth for him to change. You wrote his room number and guide him to his room.

He stood up and follows you.

Through out the walk you can feel him staring at your move, making you feel a little tense as the walk in the hallway of doors feels like forever.

You twisted the knob before letting yourself inside first. He smiles at you and walk inside, you gave him the items you brought earlier telling him to change and knock on the door when he is ready.

That's weird, last time you met him. He was very resentful and now he was being smiley and friendly to you. You don't mind at least he was tolerating you for now.

You closed the door behind you putting on surgical mask since some others weren't comfortable smelling their pheromones.

You heard a knock and a small 'I'm ready' and you go in.

He was sitting down. His top were bare, abs were shown on his frame except for his lower part since it was covered by the thin cloth you gave earlier, you can definitely see how smooth his skin was—no scars just a little bruise on his left thigh which is something you definitely won't asked, you quickly look anywhere before he catches you staring at him. The towel were neatly folded along the clothes he wore earlier at the other table.

The pink haired omega was looking at you and he did caught you staring but you don't know that. A small smile escape on his lips. You cleared your throat and lit up three incense candles for relaxation and turn on a relaxing music, you went on the other side of the room where the sink was and washed your hands, sanitizing it using your own towel. You look back at him to see that he was still gazing towards you. He was still sitting, you assumed this must be his first time going to a spa or massage parlor since he should be already laying on his stomach or he must be waiting for you to give him an order since he ask for three different types of session. "You should lay on your stomach so we could start now."

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

You stop applying oil on your hand at his question before resuming again. "...both parties might not be comfortable when a pheromones were smelled."

"Oh."

There was a silence between the two of you.

"I'm going to start now." He nodded, doing what you'd asked earlier and close his eyes. The small round stones were place on his spinal before proceeding on messaging him with your oily hands.

The first few minutes were the same awkward atmosphere except for the jazzy music on the background, Both of your hand slides to his shoulders, wrapping around and gave a small squeeze. You hear him whimper.

"S-sorry!" You shrugged his apologize saying that is normal for customers.

"I umm didn't say thank you when you saved me last week..."

He continued,"sorry for bothering you with your customers."

"Don't mention it. I actually didn't plan on going outside if it weren't for my coworkers since like I mentioned last time you can handle them pretty well." You bit your tongue inside since you don't know how to talk back when someone compliments you or apologize to you. You only wanted to let him know that

He must have noticed that so he continued, "...I didn't catch your name earlier."

You answered him,"It's (Y/n)..."

"(Y/n)." The way your name rolled on his voice makes your body feel a little bit weird.

"(Y/n), huh.. that's a weird name for a beta." You blink at him before chuckling at him. "You're weird. It's a normal name."

He giggled. "My names Luke."

"Your name doesn't suits you." You teased him before telling him to turn around so you can do second session.

He obliged scoffing at you as he lay back down on his back. "H-hey! Luke is pretty cool name."

"I never said it wasn't, I said it doesn't suit you."you gave him a smirk which he pouts. He look cute when he did that.

"The badge you'd shown were fake wasn't it?"

Ah shit, someone noticed it. No use of hiding it then.

"..uhh..yeah, I use it only if things goes out of hands."

The two of you talk for a bit laughing resuming the second session until it was time for his third and final session which is to massage his face.

"Is this your first time... Ummm..doing service for omegas?" His voice were small but you didn't notice he was anticipating at your answer. You hummed thoughtfully before answering. "Hmmm.. not really... I get omegas as my clients but I guess I would say this is the first time that I could finish my sessions with them."

He seemed confused which made you continue, "Ummm... Most partners of theirs were jealous and would almost instantly attack us, telling us that we shouldn't touch them, but we know that we were only doing our job as masseuse so. Of course, the customers paid us of any injuries or damage properties as well as others, we don't blame them, and it was starting to get out of hand.... Since, we don't have any other choice, we hired an Alpha to stop any ruckus. I would lie if I said I don't want to hit one of my clients' unreasonable partners."

"Oh..." You noticed his reaction when he got your question earlier about his status.

"He already went home though. He excused himself just earlier, his spouse needed him so we let him go now." You tell him. He must have realized there was no guard around earlier. Just you at the receptionist counter.

".. What's your thought about Alphas?"

"nothing much, regardless how some of them are uhh... unreasonable when it comes to greed. I'm pretty sure not all of them are all like that."

He didn't respond but you caught him rolling his eyes before closing them. He muttered something but you didn't quite catch it.

You slide and pressure your oily hands on his, you heard a purring, making you look around the room in confusion. Was there a cat somewhere?

You scan your eyes around the room for a bit more only to register that it was actually coming from him.

A little heat coming from your cheeks but you squash it down the feeling as it was inappropriate, it was good thing you were wearing a mask before he can see your reaction.

You didn't do anything about it and continue your work. Luke on the other hand felt euphoric, your hands were doing the God's work. He hasn't tell you what he felt when you save him from the bunch of alpha's trying to court him. He was grateful—no, he wasn't grateful; he was lightened up the fact you view omegas like a normal person and not dehumanising or infantilize them—considering you are a beta and has nothing to do with omega but still! He just felt happy that he wasn't the only one who has that kind of perspective.

You cleaned him up with a towel, you noticed his eyes were half dazed as if he was relaxed, you told him that he can now change back, as you blew off the candle and turn off the jazz music, washing your hands again and drying it off with your own towel. You put the other materials back to where they belong and look at the timer to see you over time. You opened the door and twisting it open to see your friend/co-worker.

He was pouting.

The pink haired male saw him through the doorway before you close the door behind you, and starts talking with your friend. His purple eyes realise he was an omega.

He felt a little pang from his chest.

"Hey, I thought you said you are going to clock out once it hits midnight~!" Tyrenn whined out. He tried to help you carry the items you were holding but you refused as the both of you struts back to the employees room, "He's the last customer."

You threw the towel and the cloth at the hamper before stretching yourself up. "Man, I'm tired." He threw you a bottle of orange juice and you catch it, twisting the cap open and drink a little bit before clocking out of work. You grab your bag and change at the changing room with your casual wear and goes outside from the employees room only with your co-worker. He tells you that you're gonna be excited on what he discovered on the game he played earlier while the both of you starts trudging at the main lobby where the counter was.

Luke was waiting, his eyes brightened up when you arrived. he waited to give you his money but your friend who was clinging at you took it from him, thanking him for accepting your service, putting them at the cash register before locking it.

He lick his dry his lips before turning to you, "Umm...thanks again. The service was great. I-I'll see you next time. It was nice meeting you." He smelled the scent of orange juice that you were holding. It was half full, there were some in the corner of your lips.

Tyrenn grabbed the bottle from your hand and you let him drink it as you start conversing with your last customer.

You nod at him, noticing he was a little taller than you. "Likewise. Should I call you a taxi? It's already past midnight."

He shook his head, smiling. "No it's fine! I live few blocks away from here." He put his left hand on his pocket while the other one was slowly pulling the glass door where he comes in.

"Oh, Be careful. I just heard that there was a serial killer roaming around this time at night killing Alphas. That doesn't mean you should be careless about it. You might never know when the killer change their mind on killing the others." You warned him. The pink haired male nodded again, smiling even more when you're worried for his safety. Tyrenn waved him a goodbye before talking to you again about the game he played earlier as he clings even more to your arms. Luke's eyes slightly twitches at the scene.

"Yes, yes I will! Thank you again!" He walked out of the parlor smiling. When he is few blocks away from the spa, his smile disappear.

He might change his mind on killing your friend though.

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

want more of him? Tap here

[klausysworld]

u write angst so well ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 I'm thinking about one with klaus, but like, something that hurts but it's comforting at the same time

Like him and reader are in a relationship and he travels for some days, reader has depression and during this time she practically can't do anything, cleaning, basic hygiene, cooking, the basic stuff most people do without difficulty. And when he comes back he sees her in this situation and comfort her, giving her a shower, babying her, this fluff stuff

Klaus is one of my comfort characters and, by the way, the speeches he has about life and enjoying like actually helps me a lot with my depression. And u are gold 🥇

Never Alone

Y/n was a sweet girl. She always was.

Growing up she was often full of emotions, crying almost always whether it was because she was too happy or too sad or too angry. However every time her eyes would water, each time her bottom lip would quiver, one of her parents or aunts or cousins would sigh and tell her how annoying she was, how pathetic it was. Her emotions and feelings became ignored, assumed to be overdramatic.

So when she really had something worth crying over, nobody cared to listen. Not a soul would give her even a second. It didn't matter how many times she tried to seriously talk to them, explain she wasn't an oversensitive little girl anymore, she knew what she was feeling and what had happened to her. They didn't care to hear it.

Instead she learned to push any thoughts down or at least aside. If nobody wanted to listen then she wouldn't bother making noise for them to hear.

For a long time, she barely spoke a word.

Most of the time she didn't even really feel anything anymore. She tried to sometimes but she just didn't, couldn't. Life began to feel utterly pointless.

That was when she would spend days in bed, not moving to do a thing. Often she would hope that if she stayed there long enough, maybe she would disappear or if she slept for long enough, maybe she wouldn't have to wake back up. Unfortunately for her, neither of those things happened.

It was fate really that on one of the only days she got dressed and went out that she met Klaus Mikaelson.

Somehow she managed to be in the grill at the wrong time and managed to both witness and experience a supernatural attack. Klaus had thrown Damon across the room which caused him to slam into the wall beside Y/n. Her eyes were wide and she went to walk back out the door but Klaus sped over and grabbed her wrist she she could exit.

"I don't think so sweetheart" he chuckled, pulling her further into the room and she simply couldn't be bothered to struggle. He sat her down in a booth and gave her a fake smile, looking into her eyes and compelling her "Stay still and stay quiet" he ordered before going back and finishing off the rest of the scooby-doo gang.

His eyes flicked back over to the girl he had compelled. Her head lay against the back of her seat and her fingers picked at her lips until the rich scent of her blood reached his nose.

Klaus sped infront of her and he leaned down to pull her hands away, her eyes glanced up at him with anxiety swirling inside of them. His thumb swiped the blood away from her lips and he sucked it off of his skin with a hum. A slither of amusement shone through him as she shifted uncomfortably.

"You can talk now sweetheart, and move as she should please" he told her, interested in her reaction but she barely gave one.

"Can I just go home now please?" She asked, her voice weak and tired. His eyes narrowed briefly before he shrugged and pulled her up.

"Course you can love, come on lets get you back. Point the way" he murmured as he took her outside and placed her infront of him so that she may lead him.

They walked in silence back to her house. She hesitated to go in when the sound of her parents yelling could be heard from where they stood. Klaus observed as she wondered back into the home, her parents oblivious as she slipped past them and up the stairs.

Klaus forgot about her easily, out of sight out of mind.

But then she came into view again, she was sat on the edge of Wickery Bridge with her legs hanging off while she leaned forward daringly.

His brows furrowed and he made his way over. He took a seat beside her, letting his own legs dangle off as well. Again she gave no reaction to his presence, not even when his hand reached out to gently hold her hand. Klaus may not know her or necessarily care for her but he didn't want her life to be seen as a tragedy. He didn't want her to throw what she had away when she could still have so much more.

They sat in silence for some time, sometimes she would swing her legs and lean further forward to see the water below. Each time she shifted closer to falling his grip on her tightened and his gaze hardened.

Later in the night her phone pinged, Klaus glanced to see her mothers name on the screen with a message beneath telling Y/n that neither of her parents would be home for the weekend so she would need to look after herself. His eyes softened as he watched her read the message. Both brows rose on his face when without a care, she tossed the device into the river.

Klaus couldn't help the little laugh that left him as the water splashed and the light from the phone quickly sunk away from sight. His smile died away again as her gaze didn't lift from the deep flowing water and he hesitantly slid his arm around her to secure his hold.

"I'm not gonna jump" she mumbled but he still frowned

"I don't believe you" he whispered honestly and she hummed.

"You don't know me" she muttered and he tilted his head

"Perhaps not yet" he countered but she didn't offer a response. Klaus sighed softly and carefully dropped down from the edge and back onto the rode, his arm stayed around Y/n's waist so that he could pull her back to safety. She huffed in annoyance as he pulled her along with him.

"I don't know who you are or what you are or what you want.." she dragged and he hummed.

"My name is Niklaus, well thats what my father named me however I choose to go by Klaus, I have for centuries. I'm a vampire-werewolf hybrid and what I want is for my family to be calm and collected for one in the thousand years that I have had the privilege to know them" He grinned at her and she stared blankly at him.

"Okay" she mumbled, accepting her fate.

And from that day on, each time he saw her, he would talk at her and pull her along walks with him. He began bringing her back to his house and going through his plans with her, sometimes she would give advice or little comments to put him on a better track and he found her rather helpful when she wanted to be.

Klaus began to notice more and more about her as time went by. Like how she didn't eat much or change her clothes often. He seemed to have to wait forever outside of her house as though no matter what time he came to see her, she had always just woken up.

So he did what he thought would be good.

Klaus set her up a bedroom in his home with a wardrobe of Klaus and a conjoining bathroom which consisted of both a shower and a bathtub.

He caught on quickly that if he wasn't in the house with her then she didn't bother waking up let alone getting up and doing anything. So he started opening her curtains in the morning, gently waking her up and placing some sort of little breakfast item on her lap and a drink on the nightstand while he ran a bath. He'd sprinkle the bath-salts and pour the bath-soak before folding up a towel and hanging it over the radiator.

Then he would wonder back into her room and lift her up. He had discovered that mornings were especially difficult for her to do anything. She wouldn't talk and she wouldn't move. He was lucky that she felt guilty enough to eat the breakfast he fed her, though sometimes she couldn't physically do it and he would encourage her to drink a smoothie so that she had something healthy in her. But every day, without fail, he would carry her to the bathroom and place her onto the heated tiled floor.

"Can you do it yourself sweetheart?" he would ask each morning, his gaze soft and gentle. Sometimes she would be able to and would get undressed and bathe all by herself. Other times she could get undressed and in the bath but would ask him to come back and help her scrub her skin clean. And of course there were days where she just wouldn't respond at all and he would give soft kisses to her head while carefully, respectfully undressing her and helping her into the tub before cleaning her off and lifting her back out to dry her.

There had been one or two occasions when he had been in a rush or a stressed out mood and would end up being a little rude to her. Her eyes would just grow tireder and little tears would gather to them. Guilt would consume Klaus whole and he would push aside whatever was bothering him and apologise to Y/n while helping her get ready before giving her a soft kiss and promising he would be back to check on her.

For a while the most he would do was just a gentle peck on her lips in an act of comfort however as he continued to look after her, he fell in love with her. He would see how long one of his little kisses would last before she would pull away and he would test how far his hands were allowed to wonder before she would let out a whine and curl away.

Time went by quickly, their routine continued. Klaus would ensure she was up and okay, he would go out to fix his problems, return at some point in the day to give Y/n something to eat, sometimes she would have gone for a walk in the garden or be sat with one of his hybrid who were under strict orders to never lay a hand on her, then he would go back out and return a last time. Then she would sit in his art room with a book or a word search or something to occupy her mind while he painted and spoke to her about all the things he had seen that day and which of them he thinks she would have enjoyed. Often they cooked dinner together and then he would take her back to bed and watch a film before departing to his own room.

A few times he would fall asleep beside her with her head on his chest or in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. Neither ever complained or mentioned the arrangement so Klaus began sleeping there more often and would wake his love with a sprinkle of kisses across her cheeks until her pretty eyes would flutter open for him to see.

Things were going quite well until Klaus had to go away for a couple days to speak with some werewolf packs. He had been skeptic and concerned to leave sweet Y/n all alone but he also knew he had his hybrids and asked them to take care of her. He hadn't known that they were unsired at that point and completely forgot the girl even existed.

Y/n hadn't moved from the spot in her bed since Klaus had left two days before. It only took one glance for Klaus to realise this when he returned. His expression changed in an instant and he was pulling the covers off of her, promising her he wouldn't leave her again.

"It's all okay sweetheart, lets get you to the bathroom okay?" He whispered as he carried her in and sat her down on the toilet while running a bath for her to lay in. "I'm gonna get you some water okay?" he murmured before speeding down to the kitchen and grabbing some water and tossing some pasta into a pan with water and turning the stove on before flashing back upstairs.

He placed the glass down on the side and lifted her back up, pulled her clothed off and lowered her into the bath. His fingers gently wiped the tears away that had slipped down her face before pouring some of the warm water over her hair.

"My sweet girl" he cooed softly, his hands lathering her hair in shampoo. "You're going to be just fine" he murmured, rinsing her hair out and combing conditioner through the ends. He reached for the loofa and began washing her body gently, pouring soap over her shoulders and scrubbing it across her soft skin. "Okay sweetheart, stay right there" he mumbled, zipping back to the kitchen and pouring the pasta into the colander and then back into the pan with a jar of tomato sauce before grating some cheese over the top and grabbing a fork. He brought it up and put it on her bedside table before going back to her bathroom and washing the conditioner out before lifting her out the tub and engulfing her in a warm towel and carrying her to her room. He sat her down on the chair by her vanity and stripped her bedding off and tossed i to the laundry basket. Using his vampiric speed her put clean bedding on and then placed her on top the duvet with a kiss to her head. The towel was taken from her and one of his clean shirts was pulled over her head and he carefully pulled her arms through.

"Alright angel, there you are. Nice and clean my lovely, now we're gonna eat some pasta, okay?" he mumbled, placing her cushioned lap tray onto her lap and then the bowl of pasta and her glass of water. "There we go sweetheart" he smiled softly while stabbing some of the pasta onto the fork and hand feeding her.

Once she ate half of it and drank all of her water he took it away and pulled her onto his lap. His arms circled her and she hid her face in his neck before hesitantly whispering, "Klaus?"

"Yes love?" He hummed, stroking her hair

"I need pants" she uttered and he glanced down, remembering he had only half dressed her.

"Of course sweetheart, forgive me" he replied, quickly grabbing some panties and sliding them up her legs to cover her up. "Perfect" he smiled.

"Thank you" she muttered, looking up at him "I'm sorry" she told him but he shook his head.

"No angel, I'm sorry. I should never have left you all alone." he argued, a frown on his face as he kissed her cheeks and stroked her arms. "You feel like going outside today?" he asked kindly and she shrugged.

He nodded silently and carried her out into the garden, sitting her down on the soft grass so that she was surrounded by the flowers. He wondered over to the strawberries growing a little way over and picked a couple before bringing them over to her with a smile. She returned it with warmth and giggled when he held them to her lips for her to take a bite.

He sat down beside her and pulled her into his side. She lay her head on his shoulder and held onto his hand. Klaus rest the side of his face against the top of her head and watched at the trees swayed in the distance.

"I love you Y/n" he whispered, his voice delicate and airy as the words met her ear. Her hand squeezed his and he smiled.

"I love you too" she told him quietly and he kissed her head, she then lifted it to face him and pressed her lips to his. Klaus felt his expression soften as he kissed her back and interlaced their fingers. Their lips parted and he rest his forehead against hers,

"I'll never leave you alone" he told her.

"You promise?" she whispered, her voice shaky.

"I promise."

[littlelightfish]

Something I loved from the anime adaptation on episode 5:

They made a summary about Mick's and Kuro's characters and relationship from what they saw in this two panels on the few seconds this scene taked place.

Just this. Kuro and Mick both surprised on the first. Kuro looking at Mick like he's worried about something, and Mick eating bread in silence, looking in distrust at the guy.

The anime makes it so rich on subtle expressions, I'm in love here. They're just on the background of the scene. But what they do says really a lot about them.

When the guy first comes to scene, Mick looks a bit confused but nothing else. "Who tf this guy?" They're not planing on paying him any mind.

When he sits besides him, he gets uncomfortable, you can see it on his face he doesn't want to sit beside a stranger. He wants to get up and change places. "What's with this guy? What does he want? Why is he so close?" Kuro notices this and looks at him. He saw him flinch (off camera because guy is covering him). Mick is scared of this guy.

Mickbell is a naturally untrusty person because of his backstory. He gets uncomfortable when new people starts acting friends because "well that can't mean good, can it?" Kuro knows this because they share a life together and proceeds to try and calm him the best he can in this situation.

Kuro puts his hands on Mick's back. He already has them there when the camera changes angles. "I got you. I'm here. Nothing is going to happen to you. Calm down." Mick now looks confused at the guy, but it's still clear he's very uncomfortable there. He leans towards Kuro a bit "I feel safer by your side and this guy is wierd".

In seconds, as soon as he sees him grab food from their table, he changes his mood. He jumps in surprise at the audacity. He's now annoyed and pissed. That's their food! How dares he... But he isn't the one to say anything, and from this alone you could tell he's quite introverted outside of their friends group (or that he didn't pay for the food idk). Kuro keeps his hands in there, knowing he's nervous.

Mick just looks at him eat, annoyed, maybe angry, and silent. He isn't probably paying any mind to what this guy is saying. He is stealing food. He should go get food somewhere else. Kuro seems to think something alike, but he is a bit surprised this guy has the balls to steal food so openly (he isn't paying atention either ot he doesn't understand)

He thinks a lot of thinks but says none, eating in silence. Kuro is staring with no good intentions behind those eyes. Only murder. Food robber. Mick disturber. Deserves death.

[blu3n]

By: @blu3n

Anon : blue hi 👋, could you make a short story where Jason and the reader argue?, at the birthday party, I want some angst and fluff at the end, I hope you understand kisses.

YES YES YES YES, THANK YOU!!! 🪼

edited.

Bad luck ๋ ࣭ ⭑ Jason todd x female reader

Synopsis: angst, cute at the end, this one is sad ๋ ࣭ ⭑ you and jason argue, I've never actually done one of those

— edit: @blu3n.

The rain fell heavily on Gotham, as if the city was mourning the return of a lost son. Jason Todd, now known as the Red Hood, walked through the dark streets, the echoes of his old life still echoing in his mind. He had been through so much; betrayal, pain, and a violent rebirth at the hands of the Joker.

The last few months have been tough, Penguin giving him trouble, malice, Cat Woman and the Batfamily on his tail all the time. Bandits and missions stressing him out.

His weapons failing in the middle of combat, it seemed like bad luck was with him in those last few days. To make the headache worse, his 4-year anniversary was coming up.

He was never one to celebrate or care about stupid holidays, birthdays or important dates, but if it was important to you, he celebrated. But fuck. Today you were annoying.

Exactly the day he barely managed to capture the Riddler. It felt like they had thrown years of bad luck at him, he didn't believe that shit, but now he was starting to think so.

He was working out, lifting arm weights (sorry, I don't know what it's called) while training his biceps, his mind was racing with the events of the day, Dick pissing him off for being harsh with one of the evil henchmen, leaving the guy almost paraplegic.

focused in his mind, he didn't hear your footsteps, when you approached him, you could tell he was focused, but you didn't seem to notice how angry he looked.

"What do you think? Pink or red?" Her cheerful voice made him feel bad for being grumpy for the party he had tonight. Looking at you and your dresses, he sighs, barely holding back a groan of annoyance when he sees you flaunting the dresses once again, "whatever, fuck" coming out harsher than he intended. He knew it wasn't his fault that everything was going wrong, but he couldn't help but feel angry.

"Oh yeah..." His voice sounded so broken and so short, but you respected him. You knew he did that sometimes, but not on purpose. "I'm gonna...go get changed." All he heard was a low growl before he walked out of the training bag leaving you alone.

It wasn't because he wanted to, sometimes Jason knew he could be an asshole but everything seemed to be going wrong, he didn't want to take it out on you but you didn't seem to see the clear signs that he didn't want to be around.

everything gets worse at the party, the attention was focused on you two all jason wanted least was for the attention to be on him that night just when he wanted to simply disappear and stay at home, but he stayed, he stayed for you, it was important to you so that means he should be there, right?

He was trying, God he swears he was but that, those people were suffocating him. He needed to go out for a smoke.

Once outside, it was cold, the cigarette smoke swayed and disappeared in the wind... everything seemed calmer and more peaceful on this side.

"Jason?" Your voice echoes behind him, making him turn and look at you, "Ah... aren't you coming back?" All you wanted was for him to stay with you that night, to stay just a little while to celebrate your important day. in his mind it was being an incredible night

"If I want to go, I will, stop bothering my ass," he says in a thick, firm voice, already close to exploding if you push him any further.

"Excuse me? Look at the way you talk to me, Jason, I just want to celebrate our night together as a couple-"

"CAN'T YOU REALIZE I DON'T WANT TO CELEBRATE THIS SHIT!?" Jason was never one to yell at you even if he had reason to do so he would never do so, but today he yelled which scared you just a little bit , he didn't mean to do that.. His anger bubbled, his chest heaved, he wished he hadn't done that.

"ah..." even though you try to say something your voice betrays you leaving only silence bad to fall into this situation.

Jason, when he finally regained his senses, was silent, he took out his anger on the one person he wished he hadn't done it to. "....Y/n" came out as broken as he wanted it to in desperation he said "Y/N, please wait, I- I didn't mean to

Jason in turn was in panic, would you leave him? were you mad? god, did he lose you? no after 4 years would you leave him for this? no god please don't do this to him.

Jason, you in the distance, almost felt his chest stop beating, he didn't want to do this, "I'm sorry", he covered his face with his hand to keep from letting out angry tears, everything was going wrong. Jason saw her reaction and almost felt his chest stop beating, he didn't want to do this, "I'm sorry" he covers his face with his hand to keep from letting out angry tears, everything was going wrong. "Don't walk away from me" he says with a broken voice, even knowing that you weren't there, he would give you some time, but not so much, for you to see how bad he was (in your mind). his mind).

You, in turn, were sitting at one of the tables in the distance, watching everyone laughing and smiling, even though it was your day... maybe you really were annoying to the point of pressuring Jason... maybe you weren't good for him? What were you thinking? He loves you... doesn't he?.

"Y/n-" the tone of his voice made you look where it came from, seeing Jason standing in front of you, his eyes red and his brow furrowed. "babe?"

"Shhh, "It's okay" you say looking at him wiping your eyes from the tear stains as you hear him say that he didn't mean to say what he said, and you had already forgiven him after all it wasn't his fault.

"...i love you, i love you, i love you" he says softly just for you to hear, directing your face into the curve of his neck.

That brought a genuine smile out of you, you quickly pull him up, hugging him fully before whispering in his ear, "I love you too, congratulations to us"

both of their chests pressed against each other as their heartbeats beat together.

—

THANKS FOR ASKING!!!

🪼 - I love writing about him

[star-rin]

⸻ TOXIC BY LIL DURK & SUMMER WALKER FT. ❝ EREN YEAGER ❞

★ - I LOVVVEEE TOXIC EREN. imma be using the lyrics from the song cause honestly it really helps me write. making deluded scenarios based on the lyrics.

★ - college! eren, eren is actually younger than reader by like 2 years or wtv (don't care if you a stallion bbygirl he's taller than you), bathroom sex, jealous eren, pussy eating, and I'm lazy to put anything else so porn plots basically.

❝ you know i'm lovin that dick; make me doze off right after. ❞

noticing your emerald eyes burning holes in your face from across the room, eren pissed from how you're dressed tonight. more pissed at the other guys around him looking at the way you're dressed. putting the red solo cup down on the counter walking towards where you dancing with your friends, basically bumping your shoulder with his to get your attention. all you needed from his eyes looking down at you for you to follow him.

eren was nowhere near insecure nor cared about how you dressed in previous settings. Still, something about the guys talking about how you'd be a good fuck just set something off. that's how you ended up in the bathroom with him, ass bent over, your face on the counter and eren holding your arms behind you hunching you.

" mmmfuck ren-- " you can feel your makeup sweating off and smudging on the counter as he fucks into you. his eyes clocked on you the way his cock is disappearing into you how and how the fabric of your outfit looks so good rippling off your ass.

he bent down enough just for his voice to reach your ear "fuck you feel so good mama, gon d'head and cum for me ya? "

the night ended off with you leaving the party with eren hoodie covering the big ass rip in your outfit and awesome sex that left completely exhausted.

❝ toxic, but you i ain't goin nowhere ❞

he hates when you ignore him, even if he's being dry he loves going to your IG story posting quotes that are directed towards him, puts a smile on his face. but when you ignore him like he doesn't exist makes him angry and maybe he would say sad.

its been three days and every time he comes close to you on campus you pack your stuff and walk away. to why you're ignoring him, it's because after a party last week, you saw his homeboys posting him and this girl clinging to him and him not doing anything. you refuse to be his side chick to a ugly hoe who couldn't stop touching him.

thats why he's knocking on your apartment door at 3:10 am with saddened eyes that low and red, mostly from smoking a spliff earlier. " you can't ignore me forever ma"

huh, that's weird, now you're on the couch with eren in between your legs lappin at your cunt and squeezing your delicious thighs in his tattooed hands. fuck, three days away from you made him go insane and miss how you taste, how you moan, and how you pull at his hair from how good his eating you right now.

❝ hesitant to post or flaunt this ❞

even though you two have been having sex and exploring what your relationship might be. eren has been trying to keep it under wraps when around his homeboys. not because he's embarrassed by you, but to keep up his act of being the nonchalant nigga he is.

but even that is not holding well espically when they see how he looks at you every time you and your friends have a smoke sess far from the campus. how every time you two leave to "get drinks" what should be a five-minute walk back and forth somehow turns into a 45-minute wait.

your face flushed and wig more poofy than it was before you left and was that a bruise or hickey on the side of your neck ???

" what the fuck took yall so long " jean looks over at eren eyebrow lifted and a smirk on his face. " it's a bunch of bushes and shit, had trouble coming back ya know " lying son of bitch, they all took a cleared pathway to the area.

❝ i put my hands in her pants, not for the smell, to see is it wet ❞

you're pinned on your apartment door outside, eren's body blocking the night sky view that could be in front of you. his hands down your pants and his breath on your neck.

he loves having you like this. feeling how wet you are and what cute sounds you're making. fuck and you smell so good right now. he loves how he can feel his finger slip past that first ring of your hole and how you squeeze his bicep.

he likes to see you so pathetic and submissive. the way you depend on him for your pleasure. he can't get enough of it. maybe that's why he won't leave. he loves being with you.

❝ after sex, she wearin' my boxers ❞

@y/nis_delulsional posted: lmao hey guys ;))

© STAR-RIN | © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[lovelycrimsonredsnow]

Sonic characters and their love languages (sonic, shadow, knuckles, and silver):

Sonic:

💙 definitely physical affection and quality time.

💙 jit cannot go one minute without being near you or he.will.die

💙 that's what he says anyways

💙 he knows he can be a little over-baring so he tries not to come off as clingy as he actually is

💙 he follows you around everywhere to, store? He can help you carry bags! Work? He'll make sure no one bothers you! Bathroom? He's right outside the door.

💙 now exactly how clingy he is kinda depends on whether it's romantic or platonic

💙 if it's platonic he won't really feel the need to stake a claim in you by always being around. He's much more toned down if he only sees you as a friend or family.

💙 if it's Romantic holy shit- bro always has a hand in you one way or another, especially in public. Either holding your waist or having his arm around your shoulder ....

💙 it feels natural to him.

Shadow:

🖤 acts of service and quality time I'm calling it now.

🖤 he feels so bad whenever he can't bring you with him :( What if something happens???

🖤 like sonic he's pretty much always near you.... except most of the time you don't know it

🖤 it's not stalking ofcourse, he's just....protecting you ok?

🖤 he fears what happened to Maria will happen to you...

🖤 onto lighter topics :) whenever he does come back to you he always gives you a hug before doing your chores for you without saying a word. Dishes? Nah, shadow will do it, what if you you wash a knife and get a cut? Laundry? He can do that to, y'know you look a little tired maybe you should rest...

🖤 if you try to stop him he'll give you a look before pushing you back down onto the couch.

🖤 how dare you interrupt his cleaning >:(

🖤 it's all for you after all....

Knuckles:

🥊acts of service, I see him doing like shadow litterly everything for you because your fragile to him.

🥊 he's like your personal bodyguard to, no one is gonna bother you with him around that's for sure .

🥊 scary dog privilege? Scary dog privilege. Him and shadow both....

🥊 he's not very physically affectionate or verbally affectionate either, mainly because one what if he accidentally crushes you?? Second of all boy doesn't know what to say tbh-

🥊 someone get this man some social anxiety meds😭

Silver:

🤍 physical affection and words of affirmation.

🤍 mf can't go anywhere without you 💀

🤍 it's like the that one scene from family guy with Donna and Cleveland.

🤍 you'll be walking to the kitchen to get a class of water when suddenly you hear name being shouted by a sobbing silver who's stuck under the sheet 😂

Anyway-

🤍 he follows you around everywhere like a lost puppy, y'know privacy? Yah forget her you have silver now.

🤍 he's like the worse clingier version of shadow and sonic....

🤍 can and will go into heavy detail about how you should be a nation wide treasure

🤍 although while he's a simp who can't leave you alone for one millisecond your very much protected with him.

🤍 not a single hair on your head will be harmed as long as he's here...

Bonus!:

*silver walks in to see sonic and knuckles fighting over who gets you*

Silver: 😶....what do you mean it's not my turn??? *Insert angry silver using his telekinesis to throw them out the window*

Also silver: *Insert hysterical sobbing near y/n* "YOUR MY BABYYYY"

Shadow: I already told you idiots that I'd have them for the week...I have... nothing to do anyway *awkwardly hides the piles of darks he forgot to do*

[charmandabear]

Office Hours - Chapter Six

Summary:

Astarion surprises you with a night at the theatre that doesn't go quite according to your plan.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Tags/Warnings: rough/angry sex, hair pulling, emotional manipulation, dubcon, bad BDSM practices, angst, daddy kink, reminiscent of Ascended!Astarion, discussions of domestic abuse (in Taming of the Shrew)

Hi. Hello. My sweets. My darlings. This is it. The chapter where you absolutely must mind the tags. Just know that I won't take you anywhere that we won't be able to come back from. Know that I, too, am an absolute baby when it comes to intense subject matter in fics. But I want you to take care of yourselves and your hearts. As always, shoot me a message if you'd like more specifics.

Photo credits: Zaria for Green Pussy Suit Astarion and Nephi Garcia for the incredible dress.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

“In the library? Babes, are you insane?” Shadowheart's voice reaches a pitch you’re fairly sure only dogs can hear. You curl your knees into your chest and cover your face in your hands, feeling the exact appropriate amount of shame.

“I know, I know. All logic goes out the fucking window around him. All I can think is ‘mm, good dick makes brain go brr.’” You let out a frustrated sigh into your hands.

“Do you want to get fired?” She pulls your hand from your face so you can't hide from her pointed stare.

“Oh trust me, I ran about forty different scenarios of that happening through my head on the drive home.”

“Did you, now? And in how many of these did he also get fired?” Shadowheart presses, knowing how your anxiety can get out of hand.

“Like, two,” you groan and drop your head back onto the couch cushions. “I don't know what comes over me. I feel like I can't tell him no.”

“Wait, wait.” Shadowheart grips your knee, suddenly worried. “You can't tell him no as in it feels too good to stop? Or as in it doesn't feel safe to say no?”

“Nine hells, no, the first one!” you respond, horrified. She squints at you and you squirm under her gaze until you’re finally more truthful, both with her and yourself. “Well, I mean, mostly. Like it's not like that. But like also not not like that, you know?”

“I can assure you I do not,” she says in a flat voice, not interested in joking around. You sigh dramatically, trying to find the right words to describe how you feel.

“Like. Okay. Am I fully consenting to everything we do? Yes. 100%. Oh gods, yes.” Your cheeks tinge pink even thinking about it. “But like… am I going against my best judgment? Do I feel like I should say no? Does part of me kinda wish I would say no? Like… maybe?”

“Tav, that's not okay. You need to talk to him about this.” Shadowheart’s voice is soft with genuine worry. Which is ridiculous, because she’s focusing on the wrong thing.

“No, see, that's the thing. It's not actually a him issue, it's a me issue. Like there's something wrong with me, I see his most toxic traits and suddenly I'm like a horny teenager!” Your voice increases in pitch as you grow more hysterical. “How am I supposed to call him out on it when the only words that will come out of my mouth are ‘yes daddy, more please’?”

“Is there anything redeemable about him at all? Besides being good in bed?” She leans back, taking a sip of her wine and fixing you with an incredulous look. 

“I mean… yeah. He’s witty, and bantering back and forth with him is fun. He’s incredibly smart, as loath as I am to admit it, and I like hearing his ideas on things, especially his interpretation of Shakespeare’s text.” You don't even notice the smile growing on your face, but Shadowheart does. “And he’s got this unexpectedly soft side. Like he seems cold and aloof on the outside, but he cares, deeply. About his students, about his cat, about-”

“About you?” she interjects, and your smile falters.

“I don't know, Shade,” you say quietly, almost ashamed to look her in the eye. “I think so. I hope so. But it's not like we've been seeing each other for that long, he’s under no obligation to feel anything.” You practically swallow the last sentence, a truth you're reticent to voice. 

“And you?” she asks softly.

“Man, I don't fucking know. I just want to keep getting laid and not catch feelings, is that so much to ask?” you whine. She laughs, but you can tell that she's only humoring you.

“For you? Probably.”

***

It's been several days and your busy schedules have kept you and Astarion apart for most of it. Save the occasional tension-filled passing in the hall, you've barely interacted at all. You're almost beginning to believe that your whirlwind affair has come to an end when you find a mystery package at your apartment door.

It's made out to you with no discernable return address. You bring the box into your apartment while examining it, trying to ascertain its origin. It doesn't even really look like it was sent through the mail, it looks like it was dropped off.

You take out your phone and call down to the front desk. It rings a few times, then a somber voice answers.

“What dost thou require?” His voice is deep and crackled, like some ancient eternal being.

“Hi Withers, it's Tav in 3C. Do you know anything about this package that was left at my door?”

“I have inspected it, and determined it safe for you to open. It was brought by someone claiming to be a friend.”

“Can you tell me anything about this someone?”

“No.”

And the line goes dead. You laugh and shake your head. If Withers says it's safe, then it probably is. You’d trust that wrinkly old man with your life, honestly. You cut open the tape sealing the box shut and lift off the top.

Inside is something wrapped in tissue paper with a note stuck to it in Astarion's immaculate handwriting. 

Tomorrow evening The Rosewood Seven o’clock Wear nothing underneath

You let out a small involuntary moan when you read the last three words. You carefully unwrap the tissue paper to find a fabric that looks like it's made of starlight. You pull out the midnight black dress and go slightly breathless when you get a good look at it. 

It’s a backless dress with a sweetheart neckline and intricate gold embellishments that almost make it look like armor. It has a lavish gold neck piece attached by several gold chains that drip over the skin. The skirt is made of a weightless black fabric that shimmers with gold as you move it in the light. It almost appears to be cut into two panels with dual hip-high slits.

With a dress cut like this, you wouldn't be able to wear undergarments even if you wanted to.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you think about what he might have in store for you. You're not even sure what's running at the Rosewood right now, but it could be complete trash and you wouldn't even care. You probably won't even be able to pay attention, too distracted by Astarion sitting next to you for two hours.

You feel a pulsing between your legs at the thought. You think of his hand sliding up your knee while you struggle to keep a straight face. Or him reaching an arm around you, gently sliding his fingers into your hair before giving it a sharp tug.

Another moan works its way out of your throat and you follow it up with an annoyed groan. You can really get swept up at the most inconvenient times. It’s not like you don’t have any work you need to do or anything. You roll your eyes as you stalk off to draw a bath.

***

Waiting in the lobby of the theater, you’re feeling surprisingly nervous. The dress, though beautiful, is not particularly comfortable. With all of its various chains and pieces, you needed Shadowheart’s help just to put it on. It helps that she’s also incredibly talented when it comes to hair and makeup, so in truth you feel positively glamorous. 

When you see Astarion, however, everything goes silent. You’re certain that he’s posing for you the way he’s stopped to adjust his cuff. The cut of the suit he’s wearing is exceptionally flattering and you imagine running your hands all over the emerald velvet. His crisp white button down is almost sheer and you desperately want to pull him into you by that forest green silk tie. 

But you can’t tear your eyes away from his face. This is the first time you've seen him wear makeup, and the simple smokey eyeliner look makes his red irises pop. He’s decided to forgo his glasses, presumably opting for contacts instead to show off the makeup. He’s also swapped out his standard silver hoops for little daggers with a red rhinestone glimmering at the hilt. 

He looks up at you the moment you lay eyes on him, or more specifically, the moment your heart starts to beat out of your chest. He flashes you a devastating smile before striding up to you and pulling you into a deep kiss. You can’t even be bothered to care that the other patrons are probably staring as he slides his hand onto your bare lower back, his cool touch sending a shiver up your spine.

He pulls away from you just enough to breathlessly ask, “Are you ready to sit down?”

“Huh?” You’re distracted, too busy plotting a mental path to the bathrooms to fuck him. He lets out a winded chuckle.

“The play. House is open, would you care to find our seats?” His palm is still pressed against your back and you can barely form coherent thoughts. You still don’t even know what play you’re here to see. You just want—no, need—to be near him.

“Um, yeah,” you respond, still trying to get your bearings and remind yourself how to be a person. You let him lead you into the theater, and only once you're in your seats do you realize that neither of you grabbed a program. You pull out your phone to see if you can look it up, but service in the Rosewood is notoriously bad. Instead you just need to sit still next to Astarion, who looks like a dream and smells even better. 

He glances at you as your heart quickens again and his lips curl into a smile. He slips his hand behind your neck and lightly runs his finger along the seam between the golden collar of the dress and your flesh, sending goosebumps down your arms. He leans toward you until his lips are almost brushing your ear. 

“You look absolutely ravishing, my dear,” he whispers, his breath tickling your earlobe. You turn your face toward him on instinct, your chest heaving as you try to steady your breathing. Your lips hover inches apart, anticipating the kiss, when suddenly a throng of noisy actors come barreling down the aisles. You snap away from Astarion as the cacophony of their shrieks of laughter, calls across the audience to one another, and drunken banter fill the house.

One of them clambors onto the stage and shouts, “For God’s sake, a pot of small ale!” He’s dressed in rags and appears by far to be the drunkest of them all. Three servingmen swarm him with various shouts of, “Will’t please your honor?” He shoves them all away and proudly takes up space center stage.

“I am Christophero Sly! Call not me ‘Honor’ nor ‘Lordship,’” he bellows as the rest of the players make their way onto the stage.

Christopher Sly… you’re wracking your brain to remember which play he serves as a framing device for. Most productions cut this scene because it’s long and completely irrelevant. You just can’t for the life of you remember which play he appears in.

The scene continues with their drunken antics and slapstick comedy as the players address Sly as “my noble lord,” making him believe he’s a king that they’re about to perform for. Eventually they carry Sly out on a makeshift palanquin as the “play within the play” begins. Two handsome young men in preppy clothes enter, holding a book and wearing glasses that aren’t too dissimilar from Astarion’s round metal ones. The one without the glasses speaks first.

“Tranio, since for the great desire I had to see fair Padua…”

Tranio? Isn’t he one of the characters in Taming of the Shrew?

He knows you don’t like this play.

Well, if it’s all that’s playing at the Rosewood right now…

But if that’s the case why not just, like, see a movie?

You shift uncomfortably in your dress and cast your gaze towards Astarion. He smiles, taking your fingers and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles before turning back to the stage. He keeps your hand in his, absentmindedly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. 

You can feel your heart pounding in your ears and you find yourself wondering what’s running through his head. Just when you think you have him figured out, he does something to surprise you. And honestly, not always in a good way.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. You know the creative team at the Rosewood wouldn’t pick this show if they weren’t going to try to do something with it. 

But even still… is this text even redeemable?

You sit through the entirety of the show cringing as the audience around you laughs at flagrant displays of domestic abuse. The actors, several of whom you’ve worked with before, are trying their hardest to make the lines playful, but some things just can’t be recovered. Between the forced starvation, physical intimidation, and gaslighting, you wonder why companies even bother performing this play anymore. No matter how witty the writing is, it’s just too out of date to be a good season choice.

When the time comes for Kate’s final monologue, you watch in pain as the actress tries to wink-wink-nudge-nudge her way through lines like “place your hands below your husband’s foot.” She’s young, and you wonder if this is one of her first professional gigs. You get a little sad knowing that she’s probably just desperate to do anything, even if it’s trash.

Maybe you’re being a little harsh. All of the individual elements of the show—the acting, set, costumes, direction, lighting—were quite good. You just can’t get over how irredeemable this text is. Worth teaching, yes, and maybe even taking Act II out of context just for the fun banter and clever wordplay. But professional theatre companies should really just retire this one.

In the Lyft back to your apartment, you decide to get Astarion’s take on the matter.

“Do you think it’s possible to redeem a text like Taming in a modern age?”

He pauses for a moment, continuing to look away from you and out the window.

“I do, yes,” he finally answers. “I think it takes a skilled hand, but it can be successful when done well.”

You sit on his response, chewing it over. You decide to take a different route.

“I guess a better question is do you think it’s worth trying to? Like, what are we getting out of it anymore?”

“Is entertainment not enough?” he says with a laugh. You wrinkle your nose at him.

“Sure, if you’re a basic ass bitch. But I want my art to mean something. And I can’t think of what this play can possibly mean if it’s not ‘shrill women are annoying and should learn their place.’” You cross and uncross your legs, trying to keep yourself decent.

“Last I checked, you enjoy being put in your place,” he says in a low hum and your pussy betrays you with a clench. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re grateful that the dark car hides your reddening cheeks. “It’s different.”

“Is it, though? Ultimately it is a text about two dysfunctional people finding comfort in one another.” His sincerity catches you off guard, and almost makes you angry that he’s been taken in by the propaganda.

“That’s only a valid interpretation if you ignore half of what happens in the play. They’re not equally dysfunctional, Kate literally gets beaten into submission and pretends to be happy about it. Petruchio is exactly the same from the start to the finish, he has no fucking character arc.” Your hands start to shake as you try to keep your cool. You’ve had this conversation far too many times with men who think they can interpret out the sexism by simply glossing over Kate’s abuse.

The Lyft stops in front of your building and you thank the driver as you get out. Astarion follows you, and you’re not even sure if you want him to accompany you upstairs. But you remain silent as you walk past Withers and into the elevator.

“You’re overreacting,” Astarion says once the elevator doors close. “People are drawn to this play for a reason. The text is excellent, and no one truly thinks of Petruchio as an abuser.”

“Are you joking?” Your voice gets shrill and the similarity to Kate isn’t lost on you. “The whole thing normalizes his abuse. The fact that people don’t think of him as an abuser is the problem.”

“It’s a slapstick comedy,” he snaps, his voice growing stern. “Are you going to tell me that we need to cancel the Three Stooges because it promotes violence?”

“Don’t be fucking condescending,” you spit. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“How is it not the same? Suddenly because it’s a woman in the role it no longer counts? Are you implying that women should be barred from certain types of performance because of their gender?” He walks past you into your apartment and you throw your keys and bag on the counter, not even bothering to see where they land.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, now you’re just twisting my words,” you grumble, more frustrated than ever by your inability to match his eloquence.

“So use your own words,” he sneers, whirling around to face you. “How is it not the same?”

“It’s because- well, I- It’s different, just- argh!” Your head is clouded by your attraction to him, which has annoyingly only grown over the past few minutes of shouting. You’re suddenly reminded of the smug arrogant bastard that you first met. He lets out a jeering laugh.

“See? You can’t even defend your own point.” 

His sardonic cruelty sets something off in you and you angrily grab the lapel of his green suit. Your intentions are a complete mystery even to you, because as soon as you’re within inches of one another, instincts take over. You crush his lips into yours and pull him backwards until you thump against the door behind you. He paws hungrily at the dress, sliding his hand under the slit and around to grab your bare ass. You gasp into his touch, feeling equally frustrated and aroused that he even controlled what you wore tonight.

Your fingers make their way into his hair and you pull hard, breaking the kiss and leaving his mouth open, panting. His eyes are sparkling with a fire that you haven’t seen yet and a low growl manifests in your throat. He smirks and buries his teeth into your shoulder, something he usually asks bespoke permission for. You cry out in response, twisting your hands tighter into his silvery locks.

He unlatches from your shoulder and pushes his knee past the front of your skirt and up onto your bare cunt. You grind wantonly against the velvet as he kisses you with bloody lips. He grabs hold of the delicate chains of the dress and yanks, detaching them from the collar and making the entire bodice crumple and pool around your waist. Your nipples immediately harden at the sudden exposure to cold air and he pinches one sharply between his fingers. Your hips roll into his leg as you groan, fully ruining his pants. He continues to bite around your neck and shoulders, placing little puncture wounds in his path, marking you as his.

You grab onto his tie and push him away so you can shimmy out of the rest of the dress. You’re now down to just the gold collar of the dress and your heels, a look you wish you could hate but don’t. You pull him across your living area and toward your bedroom, shoving him down onto the edge of the bed. 

“Thou hast hit it, come, sit on me,” he says, quoting Petruchio with a sinister grin. Kate’s retort falls out of your mouth reflexively.

“Asses are made to bear, and so are you,” you hiss as you straddle his hips, wrapping his tie around your hand until you’ve gripped it up to the knot. Your other hand violently unbuckles his belt, yanking it through the loops with a snap.

“Women are made to bear, and so are you,” he says with a caustic laugh, digging his nails into your ass cheeks. You tug sharply on his tie, bringing his lips close to yours.

“No such jade as you, if me you mean,” you snarl and silence him with an angry kiss. You don’t want to encourage his idiotic behavior, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said this wasn’t a fantasy you’ve had before. You fumble with the buttons of his suit jacket, trying to get him undressed as quickly as possible. You’re not sure if you feel more vulnerable or more powerful being undressed while he’s still fully clothed, but either way you want him naked, now. You get about three buttons into his shirt before you grow impatient, ripping it the rest of the way open and sending buttons flying. 

Good. Let him need to repair his clothes for once.

You push him flat onto his back and descend onto his chest, alternating kisses, licks, and bites. Your dull human teeth don’t have nearly the same effect as his fangs, but it just means you get to bite twice as hard in order to leave a mark. He writhes beneath your touch, and you feel a twisted satisfaction at the quiet little grunts and gasps you’re finally pulling from him. He’s rarely this vocal during sex, and it’s only serving to spur you on more.

His groans build until you capture his nipple in your teeth and bite down, causing him to shout and buck his hips up into you. In a flash he flips you around onto your back and he bears down on you, eyes dangerous. 

“Little love, do you think you’re in control?” he asks in a low growl, his hand gripped around your jaw. You sneer and slide your leg against the strained bulge in his pants. He hisses and your smile widens.

“Right now? Yes,” you coo, continuing to press your calf against his velvet-covered cock. You grab the tie still hanging around his neck and pull him close. 

“If you want it back, fucking take it.”

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

He kisses you roughly, catching your bottom lip in his teeth biting hard enough to puncture the skin. He pulls back slightly, a drop of your blood running down his chin and a snide grin. He makes like he’s about to kiss you again but shoves your face away before your lips make contact.

This is the worst you’ve ever seen him—the most arrogant, the most condescending, borderline cruel even. And you have never been more turned on.

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

“Is that all you’ve got?” you taunt, licking the blood from your lips. “Go ahead, choke me, daddy.”

The feminist in you is horrified, but the little gremlin controlling your libido is having the time of its life. It squeals with delight when his hand closes around your throat, just barely constricting your breathing. 

“You insolent little brat,” he breathes into your ear, pulling up on your jaw. “I will absolutely ruin you.”

And there will be no tenderness, no tenderness.

“Do it, coward,” you spit, and he lets go just long enough to finish undressing from the waist down. He grabs your still heeled ankle and presses your leg up by your shoulder, stretching you wide enough to take him without any prep. You gasp as he fills you, the stinging pain outweighed by the gratification of finally feeling him inside you.

The only thing that I ask, love me mercilessly.

He sets a punishing rhythm, one knee on the bed and the other foot still firmly planted on the floor. He bottoms out with each long thrust and you grab hold of his hair to brace yourself. He winces with the pain but doesn’t slow down, and your moans grow high and loud as he continues to furiously pound into you. 

“Gods, fuck, Astarion,” you keen, your desire coiling in your belly and threatening to explode. “Keep going, daddy, fuck me please.” He grunts with the effort and your dirty talk seems to be having an effect as his pace falters. You jerk your hips up into him, chasing your orgasm, until finally it barrels through you like a runaway train. You pull on his hair as you come and that sets off his, his pulsing cock pressing against the clenching walls of your cunt. 

He stays deep inside you as the aftershocks reverberate through both of you, until the only sound remaining is your heavy panting. He drops his forehead to touch yours, a pleasantly tender moment after some of the roughest sex you can recall having. He starts to giggle and you follow suit, suddenly giddy. He pulls out of you with a squelch and walks to the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the mess you’ve left behind. He wipes you down gently, a surprising bit of aftercare you’re not accustomed to with him. He plants a tender kiss on your lips and you feel dizzy with affection for him.

You settle up against the headboard of your bed, his arm around you and both of you looking at your phones in a companionable silence. After a moment, he lets out a small chuckle. 

“What?” you ask, turning your head towards him quizzically.

“I’m just shocked that worked, is all,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your confusion grows and you furrow your brow.

“What worked?” you laugh with him, but something doesn’t feel right.

“The whole night, taking you to see Taming, getting into just enough of a fight to result in,” he vaguely waves his hand, gesturing to the edge of the bed, “all of that.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?” You pull away from him and your stomach drops. Surely he can’t be suggesting what you think he’s suggesting.

“You get riled up so easily, I thought this might be fun.” He still doesn’t seem to have picked up on your heart pounding in your ears, which is frankly unusual for him.

“Are you saying… Wait, are you saying that you planned that fight? So, what, we’d have angry sex?”

“Of course, you don’t think I actually believe anything that I said, do you? Taming of the Shrew might be well-written, but it’s a rubbish play to produce.” He finally turns to you and sees that you’ve gone white as a sheet. “Oh, darling, don’t take it like that, you’re positively adorable when you’re angry, I couldn’t resist.” He tries putting his hand to your cheek but you flinch away like he’s burned you.

“Get out,” you say in a low voice, unable to even look at him.

“What?” He’s still laughing. He doesn’t get it. “My sweet, didn’t you-”

“GET. OUT.” Your voice has a venom in it that even shocks you. He stares at you in horror until you shoot him an icy glare. “Now.”

Without a word he stands and quickly puts his clothes back on. You stay in your bed, naked and curled under a sheet, until you hear the front door of your apartment slam. With shaking hands, you call Shadowheart.

“Moonmaiden’s delight, did you enjoy yourself? It certainly sounded like you did.” The sound of Shadowheart’s bubbly laugh usually makes you smile, but right now it seeps into your skin like poison.

“Shade, please come over,” you whimper, and the second the words leave your mouth, the tears begin to fall. You don’t hear her hang up, but you do hear a muffled, “I’m going to fucking kill him!” through the wall. You pull your knees further into your chest and sob.

[hitomisuzuya]

IMAGINE wanderer with breeding kink 😭😭😭 IM HFIWJDJW—

imagine a scenario where reader is super popular with guys because she is pretty (but she doesnt know that) and wanderer just gets possessive and once they get home, he bends her over the table and just keeps going no matter how much she cries that it was too much and he say something about how he should knock her up so everyone knows that she is his- 😩😩😩

Wanderer x fem! reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Praise. Usual insecurities about looks.

Tagging @xxventiswindblumexx @kichikichiko @that-one-gay-writer1227

Wanderer was disgusted with the sight unfolding in front of him. It was a common sight for him. There were two boys giving you sweets and declaring their love for you in a loud way to get your attention.

He supposed he couldn't blame them. He has done the exact same thing to you, except not in a gushy, puppy dog in love way. A very abrasive standoffish way. <3

They were pissing him off.

And so where you.

Because you said that thing. That thing he always hated.

"Guys, please. I'm flattered, but I don't even see why would say I'm pretty?" You were so polite about it, always not accepting their gifts and praise they practically puked all over you.

It made him sick.

Wanderer did what he always did. "What about my glare doesn't say fuck off and stop wasting your time," he snarled in a low, dangerous tone. He snatched the love letters and a box of candy from them.

The candy! He didn't know what was worse. You putting yourself down or the candy.

Wanderer's anger and jealousy seemed to dance and vibrate along your skin.

"Nahida is going to be so pissed at me. She already gave me two warnings for burning this shit right in the street," Wanderer grumbled, using Anemo in a way that always impressed you. He used the wind to fan the flames of the cooking pot outside of a cafe in Sumeru City to burn everything the boys had given you. You genuinely didn't think that was possible. He was so angry that the flames should've instantly extinguished.

Once he was done, Wanderer grabbed your hand and started the short journey back to your home. He didn't say one word to you. He slammed the door closed the behind him.

"It's okay, I didn't accept anything. I couldn't. And besies I'm not even--"

"Shut your mouth. Now," he growled. He knew exactly what was going to come out of your pretty mouth and he couldn't stand to hear it again.

He pushed you roughly against the wall, pouring passion into your mouth with deep, mouthed kisses. You shivered, breathless. It felt like he was kissing praise into you.

For what?

"You are so fucking beautiful. I practically fall on my knees everyday because of your beauty. Me. On my knees for someone? It's funny how the world works, isn't it?" he chuckled, tugging on your lower lip before sinking his teeth into your neck.

You hissed in softly in pain, but it was quickly soothed by heavy grinds of his teeth and sucking, nursing his tongue against your skin in a soothing way.

Again, it felt like it was drooling, sucking, and biting praise onto your skin.

Why?

"You taste so good I just can't help myself. I get drunk everytime." he babbled while he sucked, his hands tearing at your clothes and throwing them carelessly on the ground. "It's like the finest wine, the fruity flavored ones that you like but I hate."

He plunged two fingers inside of you, barely giving you time to adjust before he added a third finger, hooking it inside you. It made your body twitch with pleasure, making you moan and whine.

Wanderer only meant to finger you a little, just to make you cry and moan and plead. His fingers were pouring that praise again.

You thought you were beginning to understand why.

When Wanderer roughly gripped your hip to hold you still when you started bucking your hips into his fingers, crying out in the most delicious way.

He had a literal aha! moment. He tapped his fingers against your hip, burying his fingers inside of you with extra force to convey his excitement. It nearly made you cum on his fingers.

"I have an idea! It's one that will end all this drivel that spills from your mouth about your beauty." He was smirking intensely in excitement. He gripped your hip tightly for a moment, kneading his fingers into your skin. "You see I have always noticed something about these hips."

Turning you around so quick it stunned you. He bent you over the table. Licking up your neck, he gripped your hair, pulling your head back so that his lips were right next to your ear. "They are perfect for fucking our children into."

You gasped when Wanderer took out his cock and roughly snapped his hips as he thrust inside of you. He always liked to be naked while he fucked you, but he just couldn't wait to breed you. It was something he obsessed about actually.

"Ah! AH! Scara, please! I can hardly breathe!" You cried out, making him laugh.

"Ha, I don't want to hear it from you. Your hips were always begging me to fill you full. This is what you want to, isn't it?" He thrusts were relentless, your fingernails digging into the table to ground yourself, because his intensity made you dizzy. "Now use your words and tell me you want a family with me. Hurry up because I am almost close to filling you."

His hand reached around until he could feel something. He pressed on the bulge in your stomach. You screamed with pleasure.

"Say it! Say it!" Wanderer growled, using your hair as leverage to bury himself inside of you.

"Scara! Scara! Please! It feels so good my head to spinning!" You cried out, your walls clamping tighter the more he thrust.

Wanderer flipped your over so he could see the bulge poking in your stomach. It sent such a thrill through him. "Then say it!"

"Yes, Scara! Yes! It's what I want!" Your whole body shook as you climaxed, tears falling from your eyes.

"Now you understand," he groaned, cumming inside of you. He never stopped thrusting. "I hope you know that we are going for multiple rounds. You have a lesson to be fucked into you. Brace yourself while I make you a mother. We are going all night so I can do it right the first time!"