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#look at them being disgusting and in love!
dixons-sunshine · 2 days
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So Beautiful | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Daryl had never fully shown you his scars before. He was too afraid of what you might think of him if he did. However, after being together for a while, he decided to finally bite the bullet and show you what he had kept hidden from your view for so long.
Genre: Mostly fluff, some angst if you squint.
Era: Prison, pre season four, post season three.
Warnings: Swearing, Daryl is insecure in this (I wanna hold him and reassure him that everything is okay), mentions of past abuse.
Word count: 1.5k.
A/N: This was meant to be a drabble, but it ran away from me lol. I hope y’all like this!
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Daryl was breathing heavily. His chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his breathing and ease his anxiety. It wasn’t the first time someone had seen his scars, he tried to remind himself. Carol had seen them. Merle had seen them. Hershel had seen them. It wasn’t like nobody knew of them, but he knew that this time was different.
This wasn’t some random person that had to patch up some injury he had sustained. This was you. His partner. The one he cared for deeply, on a whole other level than he did others, on a level that the archer was sure was love. The one he could see himself spending the rest of his life with, however short that might be. That made you different from the rest. You were so vastly different.
Talks of the abuse the archer had endured had come up from time to time, but only on Daryl’s terms. You never pressed to hear more about his childhood, knowing that Daryl would tell you on his own time if he wanted you to know. And sure enough, slowly but surely, over the months the two of you had been together ‘officially’, Daryl had slowly started opening up to you. However, he had never shown you the scars on his back before. He had allowed you to patch up a wound on his chest before, and that had been the most you had gotten to physically see of the cruel pain that had been inflicted on him in his life.
Until now.
The scars on Daryl’s back were on full display for your eyes to see as he sat on the edge of the bed in your shared cell with him. With his back turned to you, he didn’t have to witness the reaction you would give him. He feared a disgusted reaction, a sharp intake of breath as you fully gouged the extent of the pain he had endured that were gruesomely carved into his skin, a permanent, cruel reminder of his father’s abuse. He feared that you would shrink away from him, that you would see him like the worthless piece of garbage most people in his life had viewed him as, like he viewed himself as most times. And the worst part was that he wouldn’t even blame you if you did.
However, he had not expected to hear your voice calling out to him, that usual softness and love he always associated with your beautiful voice as present as ever.
“Is it okay if I touch them?” you asked him softly, your tone of voice gentle and sincere. You weren’t pressing, weren’t insisting on touching them. You were simply asking, and you would be completely okay with it if he said no.
Daryl did not turn his head to look at you, too nervous to do so just yet. However, after a few beats of silence and contemplation, Daryl hesitantly nodded his head. He anxiously awaited the soft touch of your fingers, but they never came. Instead, Daryl felt a soft, tender prodding from something soft against the highest scar on his back, a slight wetness being left in its wake. As the prodding slowly trailed down the scar and onto the next one, he quickly figured out that the soft prodding was caused by your slightly chapped lips.
Daryl sighed quietly at the oddly comforting feeling, an involuntary shiver rolling over his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing in the comfort your actions were bringing him. Slowly but surely, as your kisses trailed over each scar on his back, his initial uneasiness started fading away, instead being replaced by a sense of contentment and love, all thanks to you.
As you placed a final kiss to the lowest scar on his back, you raised up from the bed and moved to stand in front of him. Daryl ducked his gaze down to the floor beneath him, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, but you didn’t allow him to do so. You gingerly took a hold of his chin with your forefinger and thumb, and you gently tipped his head up, making him look at you.
Looking deeply into the eyes of the man you loved most, you sent him a small, soft, reassuring smile. “You’re so beautiful, Dar.”
Daryl scoffed at your words. “Ain’t beautiful,” he denied your statement. However, he couldn’t help the way his heart fluttered at your words. He had never been called beautiful before. He had always considered it to be a feminine compliment, a compliment reserved only for women, a compliment he reserved only for you. So why his heart started beating faster and his cheeks started burning at your compliment, he didn’t know.
You laughed softly at his denial, shaking your head as if he had said the most absurd thing humanly possible. And to you, he had. It broke your heart that the man in front of you could not see himself the way you saw him: loyal, fierce, kind, unendingly fucking beautiful. There were so many other things that could describe the archer, and almost none of them were negative. Sure, everyone had their flaws, and there was no denying that Daryl had his flaws as well, but they were part of what made him Daryl. They made him the man you loved, and there was little that you wanted to change about him.
Except the way he isolated himself when it mattered most to talk to people, and the way he viewed himself, but other than that, he was perfect.
“Well, you’re beautiful to me, Dar,” you told him, your hand moving from under his chin to cup his cheeks instead. You rubbed soothing circles over the stubbled skin of his face with your thumb, your eyes looking deeply into the ocean-coloured ones of your partner. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t they say that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Well, I’m the beholder, and this beholder is telling you that you’re fucking gorgeous.”
Your other hand came up to his chest, your fingers gingerly tracing over one of the jagged marks on his broad frame. “These don’t take away from the way I see you, Dar. If anything, it makes my view of you even better. All this shows me is that life threw you a lot of fucking curve balls before all of this, and you prevailed. Do you know how strong that makes you? How brave?” You shook your head with a huff of laughter, the sound one of wonder. “God, I can’t even begin to explain how much these don’t deter me at all. They’re relics of a time in your life you overcame, a time in your life I see you trying not to let define your present and future. If that’s not the epitome of strength, I don’t know what is.”
Daryl was rendered absolutely speechless. You truly believed that of him? All of that? You couldn’t, could you? Unwillingly, a lump formed in the archer’s throat. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t believe that you thought so highly of him, even after he showed you what he considered the ugliest part of him, physically speaking. However, his heart swelled at the knowledge that you did not view him any differently than you had before. You still looked at him with such love, a love he oftentimes felt he didn’t deserve, but he definitely was not about to throw it away, either.
“Thanks,” Daryl mumbled awkwardly at your high praise of him. He did not know what else to say. He wanted to say so many things to show how much he appreciated your words, how much he appreciated you, but he just did not know how.
You smiled at the singular word that left your partner’s mouth. It was so simple, so underwhelming, so undeniably Daryl. To most people, that simple response would be a punch to the gut after such a heartfelt confession, but to you, the response was enough. Daryl was a man of action, not a man of words. He showed his appreciation to your declaration in the form of his hands coming to rest and your hips, slightly tugging you forward to stand closer to him, albeit in-between his legs. He also showed it in the way his eyes sparkled up at you, the emotions swirling around in his beautiful irises conveying more than words ever could.
“Of course,” you replied softly to his thanks, your hand trailing up from his bare chest, up his face and to his hair. Your fingers ran through his brown locks, gently untangling any knots in their wake. “You have no idea how amazing you are to me, Daryl Dixon, but I promise, for as long as you’ll have me, I’ll never stop trying to show you.”
Daryl’s heart both sped up and stopped simultaneously. Your admission made the archer want to cling on to you and never let you go. He had wanted something, someone like that his whole life. Someone who could look past everything and still love him unconditionally. And he had found it. He had found you, and he certainly did not intend to ever let you slip through his fingers.
“Guess yer gon’ be stuck with me forever, then,” Daryl said in his gruff tone of voice, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
A small chuckle escaped your chest. “I really don’t mind the sound of that.”
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blackmoonoracle · 2 days
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BLACKMOONORACLE PRESENTS ...
PICK A CARD • OCTOBER PREDICTIONS
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P I L E O N E
Soooo, you’ve definitely got a pretty decent release coming in during the month of october. I specifically heard the releasing of a karmic contract, so, I truly love that for you. You could be making a decision about a connection, it definitely feels like a past energy though. Some sort of cycle you’ve experienced with a particular soul over and over again. You put a stop to this though, I feel like you called it like it was. I’m channeling Vultures by Earl Sweatshirt and the beginning of the song literally goes. “I’ve been on the run, that’s why I go harder than you go. Plus I call em how I see em, maybe that’s why I’m all alone.” Season of the Witch is currently playing and it’s the part that goes “you’ve got to pick up every stitch” it feels like an energy of uprooting. I do feel like this pile has a tendency to hold onto people that don’t serve them in any way shape or form. Channeling Serve the Servants by Nirvana, in specific this part stands out:
“I just want you to know that I don't hate you anymore There is nothing I could say that I haven't thought before”
There feels like a specific intention in this pile to remove themselves from relationships that are dragging them down.
Something may be occurring that is causing you to let go of this connection, like something is going to make you realize you’re wasting your time. It’s not like usual either, it’s like this undismissable feeling of disgust and realization.
The mask is being ripped off, and in a very ugly way LOL.
I feel like whatever information you’re going to learn from this situation is actually going to help you develop better self esteem and turn a new leaf. It feels like a sigh of relief, this person possibly made you feel like you weren’t good enough, or were a bad person. I heard “I’m always the problem” and you’re going to realize that you aren’t and never were the problem.
I literally heard “reactive abuse”.
If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.
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P I L E T W O
You guys are making social waves the month of october by setting harsh boundaries and restrictions in place with others. I heard “Look but don’t touch” I feel like there may be some kind of drama going on in october. I did hear workplace, so for some of you this could be career/reputation/workplace related drama and bs bubbling over. I see you taking things into your own hands and very critically thinking about the situation so you can make a solid decision that is balanced and fair. I also heard “in your favor” I feel like whoever this person you have issues with is doesn’t have a very good reputation. It’s almost like this person speaking so negatively of you constantly is really aggravating other people. Especially because you don’t really talk about them at all. You’ve pretty much moved on from whatever this is.
I heard “bitter ex friend” and I also heard “bite the bullet” and I heard something about a poison apple? Someone could have tried to use an apple in some sort of hex or spellwork towards you. It could be also that someone has poisonous intentions of trying to gain access to you and that you are putting that shit to a stop.
I heard scorpio, so this person could be a scorpio. I see you essentially making a judgment on this person socially which is going to cause other people to really see them in a different light. You could also be bringing context or clarity to some kind of situation, you hold missing information or you are a missing link in some way. I also heard complexity, so this situation could be very complex.
This new judgment will teach you to be more selfish with your time and resources so that you can create a genuine balance in your life.
Too much gratitude I heard, which is lowkey crazy? I think that what that means is that essentially sometimes you put shit on a pedestal. There’s a self worth wound being worked out in this situation tbh.
If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram.
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P I L E T H R E E
I see a new financial opportunity becoming available in the month of october for you, something unexpected. It could be in something with creation of some kind, doing and creating content possibly even? I see you handling business matters and phone calls of some kind? I heard admin, so some sort of administrative position? I also heard dream job, so for some of you this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity or for others this could be a really solid offer. I also heard high caliber, but I’m also hearing don’t work yourself to death. This group feels very capricorn type of energy, addicted to working, you love making money. I see where you’ve fought long and hard to get into whatever position is being given to you. I see where you’ve lost so much, in search of stability and I feel like you will need to face your shadow of lack and insecurity while in this job position or offer. It almost feels like some of you may try to eject yourself out of the situation because you’re scared or because it feels too good to be true? I feel like this is a good opportunity, but don’t get wrapped up in social liaison I heard. I feel like you have to learn to be comfortable with not fitting in or being like neck deep in a community. You’re meant to be a bit of an outlier at this current point in time because you are learning something new. You’ve already developed the social skills, this is about developing a deeper personal skillset that you can really utilize to drive you to your success.
I see this group really coming to terms with the past, and releasing either the fear of being seen for who you are. I’m also hearing “of being heard” a fear of being perceived for who you really are. You are healing your relationship to yourself, i heard “grotesque” you might be really mean to yourself a lot of the time. Like highkey you are very impatient and cruel to yourself at times and it lowkey sucks for you. I also heard don’t lose sight of what you have, this new opportunity is here for you to milk it for what it has to offer and then dip when things begin to culminate on a deeper scale for you. Some of you could really go through a deep spiritual awakening and learn what happiness truly means to you as a result of this.
If you’d like to book a personal reading you can always dm me on here or instagram
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wwandaslover · 3 days
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I DONT SMOKE | N.R
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader
Warnings: lots of angst, smoking, abuse, toxic relationship, legal age gap, R has an unhealthy attachment to N, N has anger issues, love bombing, cheating
Summary: Natasha is a horrible girlfriend, R can’t let her go, they’re in a super toxic relationship.
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You never smoked, it was disgusting and you always hated the smell. You had hated it your entire life, until Natasha came along. Natasha smoked a cigarette or two a day, but she bought her own tobacco and tubes for it, she wasn’t going to smoke those disgusting Marlboros or Camels, she’d always smoke her own cigarettes. You would pester her to stop smoking, worried for her health, and Natasha would always chuckle and tell you it was alright.
You fell in love with the smell and taste of cigarettes, the scent of tobacco on Natasha’s leather jacket, the taste of it on Natasha’s tongue when she’d kiss you. The way it mixed with her dark cherry scented perfume was intoxicating, and you fell harder and harder for her every single day. You fell harder every time she hugged you, or kissed you, or laid you down and spread your legs greedily.. the way she could worship your body one moment and choke you the next made you throb with need, you needed Natasha like oxygen. You hated when she was gone, you hated wondering where she was. You hated being alone.
When Natasha was gone, you’d smoke, just to taste her on your tongue and smell her on your clothes. You didn’t care how the cigarette would turn into two, then into three, even into four if Natasha was gone too long. You couldn’t help it, you had gotten addicted to the tobacco burning and the smoke filling your lungs like it had filled Natasha’s. You felt pathetic, you couldn’t go a day without her anymore, you were losing your mind whenever she was gone longer than a day. You wanted to scream every time she was out with Wanda, Carol, or Maria, you had nothing against any of them.. but Natasha was choosing them over you. You wanted to tear them apart with your shaky hands.
When Natasha would come home to you acting needy and following her like a lovesick puppy, she’d get mad. She’d break things, but never you. She’d punch a door or a wall if she was really mad, she would break random trinkets in your shared bedroom and you would sob, begging her to stop ignoring you even if that meant her hurting you. You needed her attention, whether it was her arms wrapped around your trembling frame, or her palm connecting with your cheek. You loved her so dearly, you needed her every moment of the day and all you wanted was for her to feel the same, you wanted her to need you so pathetically.
Natasha arrived home late once again to find you sitting out on the back deck, smoking a cigarette with a pensive expression on your face. Natasha frowned at the sight and opened the glass door to the deck, taking the cigarette from between your fingers and putting it out in the ashtray.
“Detka..” she spoke barely above a whisper, staring at you with concern, worried for your wellbeing. She cupped your cheek gently and a sound of hurt escaped your throat. Natasha’s eyes softened even more and she pulled you into a hug. She hated seeing you in pain, she hated knowing she was the problem. You were such a sweet person, you had a heart of gold and you were so sensitive.
You sobbed against her shoulder, “Why don’t you love me, Nat..?”
Natasha immediately spoke, “I do love you, I love you so much, dorogaya.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I know I’ve been gone a lot lately. I’m sorry work has been so crazy. I promise I’ll try and spend more time at home with you.”
You sniffled a little and lifted your head from her shoulder, looking her in the eyes. You whispered tepidly, “Are you sure..?”
Natasha nodded, smiling softly. She cupped your cheek, her cold and rough hand against your soft and warm skin. She pressed her lips to yours in a reassuring kiss, making sure to be gentle and slow. You knew you shouldn’t fall for it, Natasha would go back to normal in a few days and you’d get hurt all over again.. but you couldn’t help it. You kissed her back slowly, wrapping your arms around her neck and sighing softly against her lips. Natasha’s hands moved to your hips, holding you possessively and securely as she kissed you. She knew what she was doing, she knew she was hurting you, it wasn’t ever intentional but she couldn’t help it. She knew you’d find out about her cheating on you with Wanda, she knew you were aware of her manipulation and abuse, she knew you would never leave because you were just a needy little girl, barely even an adult. She was in her mid thirties and you were a senior in college. You were weak and Natasha couldn’t help but keep abusing your weakness.
You deepened the kiss, swiping your tongue over Natasha’s lower lip, asking for entrance that Natasha granted. Natasha’s tongue explored your mouth and immediately dominated the kiss, you let her, your soft moans were swallowed by her lips. Without breaking the kiss, Natasha led you inside, both of you kicked your shoes off and dropped your jackets on the floor uncaringly. You both stumbled upstairs to your bedroom and once you got to it, Natasha pushed you against the wall and broke the kiss to take off your shirt and her own. You saw the hickey on her collarbone, you knew it wasn’t from you, but you wouldn’t say anything. Maybe it was just a bruise. She’d never cheat on you, she loved you.
Natasha grabbed your hips once again and pushed you onto the bed before she moved to straddle you. You instinctively grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, your eyes glued to the mark on her skin but you forced yourself to look away at Natasha’s face, kissing her once again. Natasha kissed back, unaware of the mark on her collarbone, unaware of the growing ache in your chest.
Natasha cupped your cheeks as she grinded against you, letting out soft groans and noises of pleasure into your mouth as you kissed her. Natasha slid her hands to your back and unclasped your bra, throwing it aside. Her hands immediately went to your breasts and began kneading your soft skin, her lips parting from yours and moving to kiss and suck on your chest while you let out fake moans to cover up the hurt building up inside you. You knew she cheated, but you didn’t want to accept it, you had known since the moment she began coming home smelling like another woman’s perfume, you knew when you saw nudes from Wanda in her camera roll that she didn’t bother to hide, you knew when Natasha started hanging out with Wanda every single day.. it was obvious.
While you were lost in thought, Natasha had stripped off your sweatpants and panties, burying her face in your cunt and exploring your core while her nose nudged your clit. You sobbed as Natasha ate you out, she thought you were just worked up and feeling relieved, not actually crying. You didn’t stop her, you didn’t want her to stop yet you also wanted to hit her and scream at her for ruining you. You hated how much you loved her, you used to think she was absolutely perfect, that someday you would marry her, but in that moment, her laying between your legs as she ate you out, your tears rolling down your face and soaking into your hair and bedsheets, you knew you needed to leave her. You knew you had to but you didn’t want to, you wanted to stay with her no matter how abusive and manipulative she was.
You faked an orgasm once, and then again when she decided to start fingering you and kissing your neck, then again when she decided to use a strap-on. At least when she was between your legs you couldn’t see the mark, you couldn’t see her fucking face, but now you did. You hated Natasha for the first time in your life, you hated everything about her and yet all you wanted was for her to love you and only you. You needed her more than anything, no matter how horrible she was.
Eventually, after everything stopped, Natasha laid next to you. She stared into your eyes with an unreadable expression, her hand gently resting on your waist. Her voice rang in your ears, deafeningly soft and warm, “Are you okay?”
Without thinking, you let out a scoff. You turned to lay on your back and ran your hands over your face, stressed and upset. You spoke after a moment, still not facing Natasha “How long have you been fucking Wanda?”
Natasha’s heart ached for you, she wasn’t surprised that you knew, in fact she thought you would have approached her about it already, but she hated how hurt you sounded. She hated your sad expression, she hated your shaky breaths, she hated how terrible she felt for hurting you. She got out of bed and spoke, “seven months.”
You watched as she grabbed her clothes and left the room. She just left. You knew it was over, and part of you was relieved, but seeing Natasha so uncaring reminded you of who she was and who she’d always be. You laid your head back down and sighed heavily before deciding you wouldn’t care either, so you just went to sleep. You knew Wanda didn’t know about you, so you decided that in the morning, you were going to go see her.
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So a decent amount of people have asked for part two and I kinda have an idea for part two, soo, go to my requests and ask to be put on the tag list, or ask in the comments. <3
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emilys-bangs · 2 days
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So I loved to see you are taking requests for tooth rotting fluff and I’ve been thinking, what an established relationship in which Emily gets super jealous when someone’s flirting w r and instead of being mad or sad, she just responds by getting extra touchy and really wants to make you believe that she loves you better and louder and softer than anyone else could? (You obv already know) this is super random so sorry if it’s not your vibe lol
This is absolutely perfect, tysm for requesting <3
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nuisance | emily prentiss x reader
Tags: established relationship, fluff, jealous / possessive emily, a gross man, no use of yn, use of petnames
Word count: 0.9k
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A soft laugh tumbles from your lips as Emily whispers in your ear, idly profiling the dining guests from your place at the bar. She’s standing next to you while you sit on the plush stool, two drinks in front of you as you wait to be seated.
She’s chosen the perfect place. The restaurant is lit up with the warm glow of candlelights, soft music playing over the clinks of cutlery and the hushed conversations of couples. Emily is wrapped up in a burgundy dress, the satin kissing her pale skin in a way you’re almost jealous of. Her voice is soft, her fingertips softer still as they skim your arm and leave idle goosebumps in their wake. 
You feel almost sickeningly in love; your heart is just on the cusp of racing, your cheeks heated with a warm glow at the tenderness of her attention. It’s a rare opportunity, to see her like this—dressed up and relaxed and oh so gentle, her eyes shimmering with the love you know is reflected clearly in your own face.
“And that guy,” she murmurs, subtly tilting her head to the suited man sitting in the corner, “oh, he’s a piece of work,”—you giggle and her eyes soften, her lips tilting upward in a smile—“his suit looks like Armani and that’s definitely a Rolex, so you know he’s a lawyer. Pity, their egos are sky—”
“Excuse me?” Someone interrupts. You and Emily both turn in the direction of the voice, expecting to see the hostess.
It’s not her. A man stands in front of you, the determined look on his face informing you of his intentions before he even speaks.
Emily’s arm curls around your waist. “Can we help you?” Her tone is pointed and sharp, edged with irritation you know only you can hear—apparently she sniffed him out, too.
The man ignores her. His eyes slide to you; the unabashed hunger in them makes you stifle a disgusted shiver. “Can I buy you a drink?” He leans against the bar, dragging his gaze over your body.
“I already have one.” You say flatly, “In case you didn’t see.”
“He’s too busy looking at you to notice it,” Emily’s voice turns warm as she hooks her finger under your chin and gently brings your eyes back to hers. Her fingers tighten on your waist, the darkness of her eyes as intense as a black hole as her thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. “I don’t blame him, chérie,” she breathes, her words now for you only, “have you seen yourself tonight? You’re breathtaking.” Her fingers gently rake through your hair, careful not to mess it up.
A shiver dances down your spine. Cheeks hot, you tilt your chin upward. 
Getting the hint, Emily leans in for a kiss, not before you see the smug smile on her lips. Surprisingly she’s soft, caressing your lips gently, reverently, instead of kissing you with possessive intent. Somehow it makes you love her impossibly more, and you sink further into her kiss before an annoyed ahem breaks you out of your daze.
You turn to the man with a scrunch between your brows. “You’re still here?” You ask, fighting to keep a straight face when Emily snorts. She hides the sound in your forehead, her lips gently pressing against your temple. The hand on your bare arm distracts you, and as she draws circles on your skin you barely notice the napkin that the man slides across the bar, his number written messily on it.
“If you ever change your mind from that,” he sneers at Emily, her responding scoff dripping with derision, “call me.” 
He has the audacity to smile.
Anger flares in your stomach. “Watch your fucking—”
“That’s sweet.” Emily interrupts before you throw a punch. “I don’t think you want it though, do you, amor?” She trails her knuckles down your cheek, her eyes still hot with jealousy. The low murmur of her voice almost soothes the fire in your veins.
“No.” You say, twirling your chair to properly face her. Her nimble fingers cup your jaw and you lean into her hand, raising your voice so the man can hear you. “You’ve got a lighter on you, haven’t you?”
Emily grins. The dimples in her cheeks make you smile back, even as the man sputters behind you.
“Emily Prentiss?” The hostess comes by then, giving you an apologetic smile. “Your table is ready.”
“Just in time.” Emily doesn’t spare the man another glance as she holds out her hand for you. You take it, smiling as she carefully helps you down from the stool. Her fingers thread through yours and you turn to grab your phone.
Ever in tune with you, Emily squeezes your fingers. “I’ll get it, my love.” She murmurs, grabbing your phone and hers, as well as her purse. With the barest tips of her fingers, she grabs the napkin and tosses it into your half-full wine glass as the man gawks.
You laugh softly as Emily turns and gently pulls you to your table, both of you steadfastly ignoring the hot set of eyes behind you. She drops your hand when you reach the table, only to pull out the chair for you, a sparkle in her dark eyes.
You grin at her brightly. 
Emily feigns confusion. “What?” She asks, her brow arching.
“I love you.” 
A slow smile spreads across her lips. Emily grabs your hand, gently kisses your knuckles and leaves behind traces of her lipstick. 
“I love you, too.”
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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regiawrites · 3 days
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And There Will Be No Tenderness - S.R
Warning(s): Sub!Spencer, Fem!Dom!Reader, Brief Overstimulation, Riding, General Idiocy Word Count: 6134 Summary: Y/N and Reid never see eye-to-eye, but one kiss changes everything.
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Garcia hustled into the conference room as quickly as she could with the height of her hot pink pumps, fiddling with the remote as she moved. "Good morning, my lovelies," She greeted the team. "Sorry for the hurry, but this one's a bad one."
"When are they good ones?" Rossi asked dryly as he flipped open the manilla folder in his hands.
"An excellent point," she granted, "but this one is particularly bad." 
She clicked the remote and a series of gruesome images appeared on the screen, so gruesome, in fact, that even Hotch's face twitched. Four women, clearly dead, were covered in blood, bruises, and an array of other injuries, although no two seemed similar.
"These unfortunate four are Kerry Whittingham, Jasmyn Willis, Carly Smythe and Louise Fresca," Garcia said, gesturing to each of the women as she did so. "All of these women have been missing for between 6 and 11 months, all reported missing by their families within a week of them vanishing."
"How have they been linked together?" Morgan asked. "They all have different causes of death." 
"Yeah," Y/N agreed. "Kerry Whittingham was evisceration, but it says here that Carly Smythe's cause of death was drowning. What's the connection?" 
"That is where things get really bad," Garcia said with a grimace before clicking the remote again. 
Four images of matching symbols appeared, each woman having the same mark burned into their wrists.
"Are those brands?" Y/N asked, horrified, making brief eye contact with JJ who mirrored her expression. 
"Human trafficking, maybe?" Emily suggested and Garcia nodded. 
"The local police department thinks so, yeah." 
"So, they're being sold-" Y/N started, but was cut off by Reid scoffing 'Obviously'. She shot him a glare but spared him no response as she continued. "-and showing up dead. Are there any signs of sexual abuse?" 
"Only on Jasmyn Willis," Garcia answered.
"So, they're not being sold to be sex slaves," Y/N guessed. "They're being sold to be killed."
"Or they're just being sold to whoever's interested," Reid contradicted, as he always did. "I doubt a human trafficker cares." 
"But they WOULD," Y/N argued with a roll of her eyes. "If they were being traded for sex, the trafficker would be more concerned with keeping them alive." 
"Y/L/N's right," Hotch said, and Y/N shot Reid a smug smile that he ignored. "A trafficker would want to keep the women alive so they could continue to bring in money. They're likely being kidnapped and traded with the sole purpose of being tortured and killed." 
"What like some kind of sick eBay for serial killers?" Rossi asked, face twisted in disgust.
"That's one way of looking at it," Hotch sighed as he stood. "Wheels up in 20."
As the team filed out of the room, Y/N glared at Reid as they walked towards the bullpen. "Stop contradicting me at every chance you get, asshole!" she snapped at him, and he raised an eyebrow.
"You know," he started, "research suggests that those who frequently use curse words are less intelligent than those that don't."
"Oh, shut up, Reid."
"Most likely due to a lack of adequate vocabulary," he continued.
"Shut up, Reid."
"I'm just saying, maybe you'd be less insecure about me 'contradicting' you if you-"
"If you're about to imply I'm an idiot, I will hit you," she told him, glaring up at him as they reached their desks. She leaned down to grab her go-bag from beneath her desk.
"You're also very quick to resort to threats of physical violence, which further suggests you have a lack of trust in your own intellect," he said, grabbing his own go-bag and slinging it over his shoulder.
"Don't profile me, Reid," she said, voice flat and unamused, before she turned and headed out. 
Trailing after her, Reid said, "I'm not profiling you; I'm making an observation about a coworker." 
"And your observation is that I'm stupid?" 
"I don't think you're stupid," he said with a shrug, and Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.
"You don't?"
"You're a qualified profiler, you can't be stupid," he said. "I do, however, think you're reckless, untrusting of yourself and quick to jump to conclusions." 
"I'm not untrusting of myself," she argued, though she couldn't say she wasn't reckless. She was notorious for thinking with her heart and acting on impulse.
"If you weren't, my contradictions wouldn't bother you." 
"That is so not how that works!" she snapped. "How would you feel if every time you said anything, someone was like 'uhm, actually'?" As she said 'uhm, actually', her voice slipped into a high-pitched, nasally lilt, and she mimed pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose.
They reached the elevator, and continued to bicker as they stepped inside.
And for the whole elevator ride down. 
And for the whole walk to the jet. 
Mercifully, the pair sat at opposite ends of the jet, and didn't talk to each other for the flight, so the team had some peace.
 ***
Within a few hours, the team was set up in the conference room of a police station in Pasadena, Captain Ray Jenkins sitting among them. He was a tall, portly man with a thick moustache and a heavy brow.
"So, the suspect you have in custody had DNA matching two of the victims in the back of his van?" Y/N asked Jenkins.
"Yes, and he also had Carly Smythe's engagement ring in his glove box," he told them, showing them a picture of a diamond ring. "He's remaining silent, though." 
"I'd like to talk to him," she said, and Jenkins nodded. From somewhere beside her, Reid snorted, and she turned to glare at him. "What?" 
"I'm shocked you want to talk to him, is all," he commented with a tight-lipped smile. 
"Why would I not want to talk to a suspect?" she demanded, and he shrugged. 
"Talking involves patience. And tact."
"Oh, 'tact' says the most awkward person I've ever met," Y/N snapped. "I've had to watch you talk to women before, you don't have much tact then." 
Reid turned to face her straight on and level her with a glare, but Hotch held a hand up. "Don't start," was his only warning, effectively shutting them both up. "Y/L/N, you talk to the suspect." 
***
Kyle Hannigan was skinny.
That was the first thing Y/N had noticed about him as he sat across from her in the interrogation room. 
Skinny and short.
There was no way this man kidnapped those women, at least not on his own. 
"You didn't kill those women, Kyle," Y/N said, leaning on the desk between them, flipping through the pictures. 
"That's what I've been saying all this time," he huffed back, testy. As irritated as he sounded, he looked unnerved as his eyes flicked to-and-from the photographs of the mutilated women.
"You don't even know who killed them, do you, Kyle?" she pushed.
"No!" 
"I don't even think you touched them," she said, fighting back a smile when he raised a questioning brow at her. "I mean look at you-" she gestured to him, "-you're short, you're skinny. Jasmyn Willis was 5'9 and a weightlifter, she could have fought you off blindfolded." Kyle's jaw ticked at the insult, but he remained silent. "You're just the delivery driver." 
He stared at her, dark eyes looking up through his brows.
"So, if you're just the delivery driver, who got those women into the van, Kyle?" she asked. "And more importantly, who's running the operation?" 
He continued to stare at her, silent. 
"You know, whoever's above you in the food chain is absolutely going to let you go to prison for this," she told him. "Hell, they probably want you to take the fall. You gain nothing by protecting these people." 
"It'll be my word against his, and no one will believe me over him," he said, low and slow, leaning towards her with a glare. "So, what's the point?" She, too, leaned forward and matched his fiery glare with a cool, flat stare.
"Your word against who's, Kyle?" 
His eyes flicked towards the one-way mirror behind her, then back down to her, and she didn't miss the desperation in his eyes. 
He wanted to tell her.
He looked up at the CCTV camera positioned in the corner of the room.
"Who?" 
He continued to stare at her before raising his right hand, forming it into a claw shape and tapping it to his shoulder.
"That's all you're getting out of me," he said, before folding his arms over his chest.
***
"A claw shape that he tapped to his shoulder?" JJ asked. "What does that mean?" 
"It's ASL," Reid said matter-of-factly, pulling out his phone. 
"And what's it ASL for?" Jenkins asked him, and Reid shrugged. "I thought you were a genius."
"That doesn't mean I'm all-knowing," Reid said, simply. He began typing something into his phone.
"Great load of good that is, then," Jenkins grunted. "What do we do now?" 
"Our tech analyst is looking through his cell phone history to see if there's any suspicious activity that could be an accomplice," Hotch informed him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to Jenkin's reply as her phone vibrated. 
She unlocked it and, surprised to see a text from Reid, she looked up to give him a questioning look, but he was pointedly not looking at her. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she tapped on the notification and had to force her face to remain neutral.
Reid: It's ASL for Captain.
And that was how Reid and Y/N found themselves snooping around Jenkin's office, looking for incriminating evidence. After forwarding Reid's text to Hotch and Garcia, she slipped into his office, followed by Reid.
"This is not how we're supposed to do this!" Reid hissed at her as she rifled through one of his drawers while he kept watch. "Nothing you find like this will be admissible in court."
"Yeah, yeah," she grunted, closing the drawer as quietly as she could before opening the next one down. 
"We're going to get caught." 
"Not if you do a good job keeping watch, we won't," she said, reaching for a drawer with a lock on it. She pulled and it didn't budge. "Shit, it's locked," she mumbled, looking around the desk for a paperclip, which she found in a small plastic cup, and bent it into an L-shape. 
"What are you doing?" Reid whispered, panicked and stepped away from the door.
"Keep watch!" she hissed back, wiggling the paperclip around and managing to twist the mechanism, unlocking the drawer. "Aha!"
"Why am I not surprised you can do that?" Reid asked, not looking at her. She glared at the back of his head.
"Because I'm a cornucopia runneth over of useful skills," she snarked as she started digging through the drawer. 
"Sure, that's why," he said, but she paid no mind as she started flicking through a folder she found. 
"Holy shit, Reid, I got something," she said, and he spun around to look at her.
"What, really?" he asked, walking over to her and she tilted the folder so he could see it. "Is that-?"
"Carly Smythe, yeah." 
From Y/N's hands, Carly Smythe's bruised, but very alive, face stared back at them from in front of a dirty wall. She was only wearing a white tank top in the picture, and her hair was flat and greasy, eyes hardened as she glared at the camera.
This picture wasn't a part of the investigation.
The picture was stapled to another sheet of paper, one with messy writing scrawled over it. 
Carly
24
140lbs
5'6
Brown eyes
Brown hair
No Tattoos
Limited known sexual history
Sweet voice
$10k min
$33k to Poseidon
"Oh my God," Reid muttered. 
"She isn't the only one either," Y/N said, flipping through the rest of the pages, through profiles of several women, including the four known victims. "We have to get this to Hotch." 
Before Reid could say anything, they heard Jenkins' voice coming from somewhere outside. Y/N's heart dropped.
"You were supposed to keep watch!" she whispered accusatorily at Reid, who sputtered out a response she didn't listen to as she lifted her shirt and shoved the folder into her pants, covering it when her shirt fell back down.
"What are you doing?" he asked her, eye flicking Wilding between her and the door as Jenkins' voice got closer. 
"Smuggling this out of here," she said, like it should have been obvious.
"And what excuse are you going to give him for us being in here?" he demanded, holding his hands up in distress.
"Kiss me," she commanded, and he choked.
"Excuse me?"
"Kiss me!"
And he did.
As the door handle turned, he surged forward and their mouths connected, lips crashing together. 
Reid grabbed Y/N's hips, pulling her body towards his as his tongue glided over hers, taking her by surprise as he took complete control of the kiss. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging it at the roots.
He whined into her mouth, and all higher thought ceased in Y/N's mind.
Pulling his hair harder, she kissed back with a punishing harshness, vaguely registering her ass hitting the desk as Reid pushed her against it, sliding his hands from her hips up to her waist, around her back and pulling her back against him. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it, making him whimper in a way that had her whole body heating up in response. 
"Ahem." 
Gasping, they tore away from each other and spun towards the door to see Jenkins smirking at them. "I don't think that's an appropriate workplace activity, Agents," he commented, and Y/N grinned in faux sheepishness. 
"Sorry, it’s all new," she said, pushing Reid away from her less harshly that she ordinarily would. "We can't keep our hands off of each other." 
"I won't tell your Captain, don't worry, sweetheart," he said, a look in his eye as he turned his gaze to her that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
Both Y/N and Reid managed to get out of the room, and the folder shoved into the front of Y/N's pants felt like it weighed a tonne.
It took less than 24 hours before Jenkins was on the other side of police custody, coughing up information about his clientele.
Six days later, four other men had been arrested for the murders of the women, and had several other murders linked to them.
Three weeks later, the Team had busted a huge ring of human trafficking. 
One month later, Y/N was still thinking about that kiss. 
Each member of The BAU had been rewarded (read: forced to take) a two-week period of leave after the events of the bust. Morgan had been shot, Rossi had a joint dislocated and, all-in-all, it was an incredibly stressful time.
Five days in and Y/N was going stir-crazy from both the boredom and the haunting thoughts of Reid’s mouth on hers. Every so often her mind would wonder to the plush look of his lips, or the intense furrow of his brow, or- when she was particularly out of control- the whine he’d made against her lips when she pulled his hair.
By day seven, she’d exhausted her Netflix subscription and had purchased Disney plus.
By day nine she’d nearly finished The Golden Girls and was out-of-her-mind bored.
As Dorothy made a snide comment, Y/N’s phone notification went off, and she practically jumped on it in all her enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm promptly dissipated when she realised the text was from Reid, and she rolled her eyes.
Reid: Are you busy?
You: No why?
Reid: I’m bored.
You: Okay and?
Reid: Are you telling me you’re not?
You: Well obviously but I didn’t text you to complain about it
Reid: Can I come over? Everyone else is busy. I’ll buy you pizza.
You: I can buy my own pizza
Reid: It tastes better when it’s free, no?
You: Fine you can come but if you don’t have the pizza I’m not letting you in
Reid: Deal. I’ll be there in an hour.
Oh, God, Reid was coming over.
She tidied up her living area, even rearranging the throw pillows on her couch before looking down at the ratty T-shirt she was wearing and had been wearing for a least three days. She debated leaving it on, but your skin tingled unpleasantly at the thought of Reid seeing it and she reluctantly decided to change.
But she couldn’t change into clean clothes without showering.
And if she was showering anyway, she may as well shave.
But if she shaves without exfoliating, she gets ingrown hairs.
That dangerous train of logic is what compelled her to take an ‘everything shower’, listening to music while she pampered her skin and ridded herself of all body hair. For Reid of all people too, to add insult to injury. He probably wouldn’t even appreciate it, not that she’d give him the chance to appreciate your silky-smooth legs, but still. Some acknowledgements of her immense efforts wouldn’t go amiss.
She stepped out of the shower and slathered herself in vanilla-scented lotion, before dressing into a simple pyjama set consisting of loose (but very short), plaid shorts and a black tank top. The doorbell rang just as she slid her feet into her slippers. Checking the clock, she rolled her eyes when she realised it had been almost exactly one hour since his last text, the punctual motherfucker.
She shuffled to the door and looked through the peephole to make sure it was actually Reid, snorting at the way the lens disfigured his face in a bizarre perspective, before letting him in. “Reid,” she greeted, as neutrally as she could when she wanted to tear into the pizza box that he was holding. It wasn’t lost on her that it was from her favourite local place.
“Y/L/N,” he responded in much the same tone, stepping in and slipping his shoes off and revealing a mismatched pair of truly bizarre socks, setting them on the shoe-rack beside the door. He’d known her for long enough to know she absolutely did not tolerate shoes inside her home, and she tried not to feel fond.
“That pepperoni?” she asked, jerking her head towards the pizza box.
“Obviously,” he said, shooting her a distinct look of irritation, like she’d asked a stupid question. “Hey, I don’t know your life,” she snapped. “You could be one of those freaks that like Hawaiian.”
“You know, it’s widely considered fact that the components of balanced flavour are ‘salt, acid and sugar’, so by that logic, a Hawaiian Pizza would-“
“Oh my God, you’ve been here less than five minutes and you’re already doing the thing,” she groaned, taking the pizza box from him and walking to the living area.
“What thing?” he asked, following behind her.
“The ‘uhm, actually’ thing!” she says, plopping down onto the couch and setting the box on the coffee table. He rolled his eyes again and sat down next to you, not deigning to respond.
Silence settled over the two of them.
Dying for anything to relieve the awkwardness, Y/N leaned over to grab a slice of pizza, aware of Reid’s eyes on her. She turned to shoot him a questioning look, but he didn’t meet her gaze and pointedly stared at the TV.
Fuck, his jaw was sharp, and his neck was an elegant arch.
An echo of his desperate whine ricocheted in her head for a moment as she stared at him.
Such a sweet noise from such sweet lips, pillowy and plush against hers. If a kiss was all it took to wring noises like that from him, she couldn’t help but be curious what noises he’d make if she put her hands places that weren’t his hair...
When he swallowed and cleared his throat, she snapped out of her stupor and chewed on her slice, turning back to the TV.
Half an hour later, neither of them had said anything. At some point, Y/N had taken the half-eaten pizza into the kitchen, and bought back a bottle of water for Spencer, who nodded in gratitude, but the awkward silence remained.
They snuck glances at each other, but it became apparent they didn’t know how to be civil with one another.
“So,” Y/N started clumsily. “You done anything interesting on your leave? “I- uh-“ he cleared his throat “-Re-read some of my favourite works in their original languages, I wanted to see if they held any nuances that got lost in their translation.” “Interesting,” Y/N said. “I imagine that killed time for about a day.”
“Yeah, it didn’t take long,” Reid laughed quietly. “I’ve spent the rest of the time writing to my mother and watching Doctor Who.” “It’s a good show. Tennant is the superior Doctor.” “Naturally,” Reid agreed, shockingly enough. “Although I’m partial to Eccleston for nostalgic reasons.”
“Who’s your favourite sidekick?” “Donna Noble,” he replied. “I think she had the most character, and her personality complimented The Doctor well.” “I thought Martha was cool, too,” Y/N said. “Even though she was obviously just a rebound for The Doctor to try to get over Rose.” “Some of my favourite episodes are from when Martha was on the show,” he told her and she smiled, smally at him.
“Really?” “Yeah! ‘The Waters of Mars’ was incredible!” Y/N felt her heart flutter at the way his eyes lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin, deciding to ignore it. “Oh, God, that’s the one where the water’s poisoned and makes the people at the station into- like- zombies, right?” Y/N asked, twisting around in her seat to face him properly. “That freaked me out. Like the one in the library.”
“Where River Song is first introduced?”
The conversation flowed with an ease that was unfamiliar to them after that, and it turned out they had a lot more in common than either of them thought.
It wasn’t long before they were sifting through Y/N’s streaming service subscription, settling on a horror movie they were both fond of.
The Fly.
“You know, even with the clunky visual effects, this movie is still incredible,” Reid commented quietly, not looking away from the screen.
“Probably because it’s a romantic tragedy more than a horror movie,” Y/N said. “It doesn’t need to rely on visuals, the story-telling does most of the heavy lifting.” She turned to him. “Although the ‘clunky visual effects’ are better than some CGI I’ve seen recently.” Reid laughed at that and nodded. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” he said.
This was too weird, and it was making Y/N itch. It was making Y/N come closer to giving in to the urge to press her mouth to his.
“Shocking,” she said, drily, trying to shift their dynamic to what it normally was. “You usually contradict me every chance you get.” Reid stopped laughing and cast her a side-ways glance.
“I’m simply correcting you,” he said.
“My asshole you are,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And don’t start with the whole ‘people who curse are less intelligent’ shit, or I will throw you out, pizza and all.” “And to think we managed to have several civil conversations,” he groaned, taking a sip of his water and rolling his eyes. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” “I’m being perfectly civil,” Y/N said, knowing full-well that she wasn’t. “Just admit that you get off on proving to everyone that you’re smarter than them.” “You have no idea what I get off on,” he snapped, turning to her. When their eyes met, time stilled for a moment.
She’d never noticed before how his deep, brown eyes flashed gold in the light.
“What do you get off on then?”
The question had escaped her lips without her permission, and she abruptly snapped it closed as they looked at each other with wide eyes.
“What?” he asked wearing a look of pure shock, like he didn’t even believe he’d heard her correctly.
“Nothing!” she practically squawked, looking away from him and ignoring the feeling of her cheeks heating up.
“Did you just ask me what I get off on?” he choked out, looking incredulously at you as you awkwardly looked at him, looking away again immediately.
“Pfffft, no,” you lied, stupid as he’d clearly heard her.
“You totally did!”
“Okay, so maybe I did,” she admitted. “It kinda just slipped out, I don’t actually wanna know.” “Don’t you?” he asked, voice dropping into a husky tone she didn’t know he was capable of.
She gaped at him, not even knowing what to say. “I-“
“I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since we kissed,” he told her, leaning forward. “Your eyes keeping dropping to my lips, and your pupils dilate when they do.” He leaned in closer to her. “You also keep absentmindedly biting, licking and playing with your lower lip when you look at me.” “…So?” she asked, not denying it. They both know he was too good a profiler to lie to, especially about something he’d observed himself.
“So, you can’t stop thinking about it,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “And you want to do it again.” When she didn’t say anything, he moved closer to her, so close, in fact, that they could feel each other’s breath puffing onto their faces.
“Do you want to know why I really asked you if I could come over tonight?” he asked, lips so close to hers it was agony.
“Why?” she asked breathlessly.
“Because I want that, too.” She gave in.
With both of her hands on his cheeks, she dragged him the extra inch forward and slotted her mouth against his, swallowing down a keen that threatened to bubble out at the contact. His long, deft fingers gripped her waist and pulled her closer to him, and she followed his pull as elegantly as she could to land in his lap.
Immediately, and like she’d been wishing she could do for a long month, she sunk her fingers back into those brown curls and tugged. The soft noise he made against her lips was hardly the high-pitched whine that had haunted her, but it was enough to make her double her efforts, pressing her body against his and kissing him with poorly hidden aggression. He matched her sudden ferocity, sliding his hands around to her ass and squeezing hard enough to have her breath stuttering out of her chest. When he chuckled against her mouth, she bit down on his lower lip, just a quick tug in between her teeth, but it was enough to make him gasp, and she took that as her opportunity to pull his head back by his hair and look down at him.
Eyes blown out, cheeks flushed pink and his lower lip already kiss-swollen, he already looked like a mess.
“God, I want to fucking ruin you,” she hissed, grinding down over his hips and grinning wickedly at the firmness she felt against her. He whined, his eyes flicking upwards momentarily before he refocused on her face. “Please do,” he gasped, rocking his hips up against her, gripping her ass again.
“Already begging?” she teased. He glared at her, but it was hollow, before he reached up to grab the back of her neck and drag her to his lips again.
When their lips crushed against each other’s, Y/N’s hands immediately started to rip at Reid’s shirt, almost ripping the buttons off in her haste to get it off him. He whined into her mouth at her aggression, reluctantly taking his hands off her to slide the sleeves of his button up off his arms, leaving his chest bare to her. She raked her nails down his chest, trails of pink following her fingertips, and he arched into her with a sweet keen. She pinched his nipple with one hand, and he gasped. Taking his surprise as an opportunity, she slid her mouth across his jaw to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing to bite and suck at the sensitive juncture between his neck and shoulder.
“Oh!” Reid moaned, thrusting his hips against her particularly hard at the overwhelming sensation. “Oh, God, Y/N, please.”
“Please what?” she taunted, continuing to leave marks on his neck, and continuing to tease his chest. She ground her hips against him far more firmly, speeding up her steady rhythm. “I don’t- I- Oh!” he struggled, breaking off into a whimper before he could get the words out.
“If I knew that this was all it took to get you to shut up, I’d have done it sooner,” she said, laughing cruelly when he glared at her. Still choking out a chain of whimpers and whines, he slid his hands up her tank top, cupping her breasts, long, deft fingers pinching her nipples harshly in retaliation. She squeaked, shocked, turning to him with her own glare. He gave her a paradoxically shy little smirk, proud of himself, and it infuriated her.
When she pushed herself backwards, down his legs and away from the bulge in his pants, he whined in protest. She pulled his zipper open, shoving the soft fabric of his boxers to pull his cock out, hot and heavy in her palm; it was bigger that she thought it would be, definitely bigger than average, and delightfully thick.  “Oh, God, what are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice breathless and desperate as he tried to buck into her hand, whining when her weight on his lap meant he couldn’t drive up enough to get any real friction.
“I’m gonna use you,” she told him, stroking his cock deliberately slow, squeezing around his sensitive head.
“Oh, fuck!”
“Until you can’t even think anymore.”
Nodding enthusiastically and gripping her hips, he tried to drag her back towards him, but she tsk’d. She placed a hand on his chest to push him onto the couch and used the leverage to stand up. Slowly, she began to push the waistband of her shorts down, the way he stared at the movement as though hypnotised flooded her brain with a heady feeling of power. “Reid?” she cooed, and it looked like it took a tremendous amount of effort for him to drag his eyes from her hips to her face.
“Ye-yeah?” he stuttered out, almost absentmindedly reaching for his cock and fisting himself in a loose grip. She bit her lip as she watched the tentative movement. “Do you have any condoms?” she asked, hoping to God he said yes. The hope was foiled when he looked at her with an expression of panic.
“No, shit, no, I don’t,” he huffed, and she could see him calling himself an idiot in his own head.
“Fuck it, I’m clean and on birth control,” she said. “Are you-?”
“Yes, I’m clean, Y/N,” he said, a pleading look on his face. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for a whole month, please don’t make me wait.” Ordinarily, she’d tease him, but seeing as she had felt exactly the same way, she finished sliding her shorts down her legs, leaving them on the floor as she straddled him once again. She pushed her hips down on his, grinding her wet pussy over the throbbing heat of his cock and they both gasped. “Please, don’t tease,” he begged, looking up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes. “Just fuck me, oh my God, please.”
“Eager,” she teased and slapped her ass in retaliation, making her yelp and jolt forward, making her wetness slide over his cock once again. She started grinding down deliberately hard to get back at him.
He threw his head back and gasped, and she took that as a chance to start sucking and nibbling on the column of his throat.
It didn’t take long before he was whining in that sweet, sweet way that made her head spin. “Please!” he whimpered desperately, pushing his hips up to meet her movements, and she relented. Pulling away from his neck, she lifted herself up before sinking down on his cock.
“Fuck!” “Oh, God!”
He was fully inside of her, stretching her out in a dull ache as her adjusted to him. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she mumble, gently starting to rock as the ache lessened. He didn’t respond, and the glazed look in his eyes made her question if he’d even heard her. He grabbed her ass, kneading the firm flesh in a way she thoroughly appreciated.
Slowly, she started bouncing, and he screwed his eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the almost overwhelming feeling of her hot, wet pussy squeezing him. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, jaw going slack as she started moving faster.
It didn’t take long before they we both panting, flushed and desperate as the moved against each other. At some point, Reid had wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, licking and sucking and biting wherever he could reach.
Y/N sunk her hands into his hair, gripping it tightly to keep him there as the brutal pace she had set brought her closer to the edge. The way he was practically sobbing into her neck told her he was close, too.
“Reid,” she panted, pulling his head away from her neck by his hair. He looked up at her, flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open, eyebrows hitched and eyes watery. He looked so fucked out she couldn’t help the pride that rushed through her. “Are you close, baby?” she asked him with a cruel smirk, and he nodded pathetically, crying out when she gripped his hair tighter to cease the movement.
“Please,” he begged. “I’m so close!” “Don’t you dare cum before I do,” she hissed, leaning back a little so the hand that wasn’t in his hair could rub her clit.
“I’m trying, I’m trying, but you feel so good! Ah, ah, please cum, please cum, please cum!”
His begging, desperate and needy, pushed her over the edge, her fingers on her clit and his cock filling her up as she toppled over the precipice of her orgasm. She cried out his name as her walls shuddered around him, dragging him over too. He cried out, louder than he had before as his orgasm wreaked havoc on his body, his legs shaking and tears finally dropping onto his cheeks. He babbled an incoherent stream of pleas as oversensitivity kicked in, crying that it was too much as she rode her own orgasm.
Her bouncing slowed to a still and she fell against him, both breathing heavily and flushed.
It took several minutes for both to catch their breath, and for coherent thought to be functional again.
Y/N hurried into the bathroom to clean herself up and tried to not spiral into panic; not only had she has sex with a coworker and totally violated the fraternisation policies at the bureau she’d had sex with Reid. Worse, she realised she didn’t regret it. She should, but she doesn’t, and she has never believed in being guilty about things that don’t warrant guilt.
She supposed it was harmless, really. Honestly, if they had this new way of working out their animosity towards each other, they’d probably be more pleasant to be around.
So, really, fucking him was for the good of the team.
Yeah, I’m totally doing it for the team, she told herself as she finished cleaning herself up.
When she left the bathroom and returned to the living room, his shirt was back on his body and his cock was tucked back into his pants. He was sitting there looking so awkward it was painful, and he didn’t look at her when she sat beside him.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, and she sighed. “No, we shouldn’t have,” she agreed. He nodded, eyes not moving from his hands where they were folded in his lap. “So, what now?” he asked.
“I have condoms in my dresser,” she offered, laughing when his head shot up and he looked at her so incredulous it would have been offensive if it wasn’t so funny. “You don’t want to do it again?” “No, no, I do,” he rushed out with pinkening cheeks. “I just didn’t think that you’d want to! “Well, I do,” she said matter-of-factly before standing up and walking towards the bedroom. When he didn’t immediately follow, she turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming or not?” she asked.
Reid had quite possibly never moved so fast in his life as he followed her giggles to her bedroom.
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bbyangyl · 2 days
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— EASE YOUR MIND- DEKU | IZUKU MIDORIYA
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— description: after inviting you to an event, izuku has a difficult time deciding if "a date" would be the right term to use.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— w.c: 2.1k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— tags: sfw (however, my blog isn't!), fluff, very soft, deku is basically in love with you but overthinks like CRAZY
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— a/n: here's something that has been sitting in my drafts for a while now. I actually have a lot written so you'll be seeing a lot from me soon :) I just need time to edit a few things. please stay tuned!
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deku was sweating
he was sweating so much that his palms felt drenched, struggling to discreetly wipe them against his pants, hoping you wouldn’t notice. you walked beside him, wearing a smile that outshined the sun.
he doesn’t know how he got here, with you. the only thing he could recall from the events of his spiraling and panicking brain when he asked if you wanted to go with him to a “history of heroes” event, where he scored two tickets for, were your bright, excited eyes and lovely smile when you agreed to go with him.
and then, he was sure he messed it all up when, for some reason, his mouth moved faster than his brain and said “I’m so glad! It’s a date then”
he didn’t mean for the words to be heard aloud. and through his stammering voice and flushed cheeks, he tried so hard to make an excuse; to distract you from the fact that he just called it a date. which meant he asked you out on a date.
but instead of gazing at him in confusion or uncertainty, (or worse, disgust), you simply giggled, nodding as you gathered your belongings before heading out to the dorms.
“it’s a date” you said, walking away from his frozen figure that decided to stay in place on its own accord, processing the three words you repeated back to him.
you said yes, despite him calling it a date, but did you really consider it a date? or did you know he accidentally called it that and you just went along with it, even though he truly did want to go on a date with you. but he never thought you’d ever go on a date with him. and even if he intentionally asked you out, he wasn’t sure a first date with you to a hero event was good enough. You seemed excited for it, should he plan something else?
as he looked up at your retreating figure, he noticed the way you look back at him, with soft eyes and a pretty smile before turning around, continuing to walk away.
he felt his brain short circuit, as you leave him with nothing but blooming red cheeks, shaky legs, and thoughts of you.
as the day of the event arrives, after thirty minutes spent rehearing how to approach you and what words to say, a soft knock unexpectedly echoes on his own door, before being opened slightly.
and he begins to sweat.
there you were, in a cute sundress, looking at him with such a sweet expression on your face. he felt his hands slightly trembling, his heart practically soaring through the air in a fluttering mess. he felt like a fish, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say. anything at all! at least a hello.
he didn’t trust himself, however. deku had a tendency to ramble and mumble, and he had an small feeling that a simple ‘hello’ would turn into ‘you’re the most beautiful girl in the world’, or something more than he was ready to admit
it was difficult to form words anyways, when just the sight of you is enough to leave him breathless, unable to think about anything else but the fact that you were here, ready to go out with him…
to an event that he had called a date, and you seemed happy to agree...
he felt his face burn, and one part of him believed that the temperature could’ve rivaled todoroki’s quirk.
“hey! I’m sorry if I interrupted you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready! If you’d like I can wait in the common area while you’re done.” you say, playing with the straps of your backpack.
he laughs nervously. “o-okay, yeah. I just need to grab a few things and we can head out” he feels his voice get shaky towards the end, and quickly he turns around, flustered, as he pretends to try and find something on top of his bed.
he hears a small laugh from you, before announcing you’ll be waiting for him over there. as your footsteps indicate you walking away, deku immediately lets out the tremulous breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.
the thought of being around you, without the confirmation of what this “outing” was considered to be, caused his nerves to skyrocket. he hated second-guessing, and couldn’t bear the embarrassment he would feel if he treated today as a date, only to find out you thought he was joking, or vise versa.
despite the inner conflicts in his overworking mind, he, at least, was certain of one thing. he invited you and you said yes, and you were now waiting for him in the common area.
with a small, unsteady sigh, he starts to relax a bit. everything will be fine. he’ll take you to the event, and you’ll both have an amazing time, free from his overthinking.
at least, that was the plan.
it’s a bit easier said than done, especially in this circumstance, where his mind is on endless overdrive, hanging out with a girl who practically hung the stars in his eyes.
he felt awkward, realizing that not a single word had been exchanged between the two of you since leaving the dorms. he tried to think of something to say, but the probability of stumbling over his words as he tried to start conversation was unfortunately high.
each step he took felt unnatural, as if every movement was a forced effort, desperately trying to match the light, effortless way you walked beside him toward the museum.
it only made things more complicated when deku realized he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you; it was too overwhelming. but the brief glances he stole, seeing you smile softly as you took in your surroundings, only made the fluttering in his heart grow stronger.
he was sweating
but luckily for him, you were the one to break the ice.
“y’know, I’m actually a bit shocked you invited me out, midoriya” you say softly, glancing at the ground with a small smile on your face. deku turns to you, feeling his hands trembling against his side, wondering if you’ll bring up his embarrassing ‘it’s a date’ declaration.
“what…uhm…what do you mean?” he asks, feeling his voice crack. immediately he feels his face grow hot, watching as you glance at him with a small laugh, no trace of teasing, just amusement.
“it’s just, we’re friends, obviously-“ you begin to clarify, and he can’t help but feel his heart drop slightly, despite that being the facts. “but…I don’t know, you were always so close with ochako, iida, todoroki and our other classmates. we don’t interact as much.”
it was the truth. deku never had much trouble talking or hanging out with his classmates. he was extremely close with a few and, at the very least, felt comfortable around all of them, even with bakugo. deku was proud of how far he had come from his middle school days, now able to talk freely and be himself. he felt lucky. but with you, things were slightly different.
he always caught himself rehearsing what to say before starting a conversation. he’d stumble over his words, his face flushing red during any interaction. just a glance in your direction was enough to turn him to mush. in some ways, you made him feel like his middle school self again; timid and nervous. but the reasonings couldn’t be more different.
“I actually wanted to get closer to you, but funny enough I was always kinda shy around you.” suddenly, he halts any movement. did that come from him? that wasn’t his voice. his eyes widen as he realizes that came from you. shy? around him? really?
“what?!” It was difficult to wrap his head around the fact. all this time he was so focused on how to interact normally with you, never once did he take the time to analyze any interaction you had with him and deem it as shy. you were always so happy and kind, and anyone with eyes could see how much he fumbled through the smallest of conversations with you. the thought that maybe you were also shy around him too, made his heart skip a beat.
he watched as you turn to him, cheeks blooming a pretty pink, like the petals of a cherry blossom fluttering through the air. “yeah…i mean…we talked every now and then. not as often, but you were always so kind despite our limited conversations. I never really reached out to you because I was always a little nervous around you, unable to get a clear picture of how you felt about me.”
you take a small step forward, and he immediately notices the slight hesitation in your movement, as if there was more you wanted to say but weren’t sure if you should. he catches the way you try to meet his gaze but become a little flustered, and how your fingers fidget with the straps of your book bag.
deku had always been so perceptive; picking up on body language and mannerisms with ease. but he never realized how similar the two of you were in your interactions. he was always focused on not looking like a fool in front of you; a blushing mess. Yet now, seeing the flustered look in your eyes instead, he felt himself melt on the spot, fighting the urge to kiss your cheeks.
“when you invited me to the hero event, I couldn’t help but feel happy! and…I felt over the moon when you called it a date. even if you didn’t mean to call it that l-“ you pause, before giving him a gentle smile “-it still made me very happy.”
he gazes at you, momentarily questioning if his mind is deceiving him, conjuring up a hopeful illusion. but as he watches you nervously bite your lip, awaiting his response, the reality of the moment sinks in. he feels his heart flutter in his chest, and the weight of your words sends a shiver through his entire body. “you wanted it to be a date?”
“Is it weird if I said more than anything?” you confess, shyly looking at the ground with uncertainty and anxiousness. he feels himself physically vibrate with excitement, hearts practically forming in his eyes as he steps closer, unable to hold back the confession on the tip of his tongue.
“I-I want that too! I want this to be considered an actual date!” he exclaims with happiness pouring out of his soul, feeling his cheeks become slightly sore from his smile. you look up at him, a shocked expression on your face as you slowly process his words. he watches in time the way your features soften, beautiful eyes widening slightly as you let out a gentle gasp.
“really?” you ask, as he feels the joy practically radiating off of you. deku nods in confirmation, hands trembling from overwhelming delight. he meets your gently gaze, as you both stare at each other with bashful grins before a small laugh escapes your lips, followed by a domino effect of uncontainable giggles between you and him.
he feels lighter, almost euphoric; his entire body buzzing with warmth that radiates from his flushed cheeks, offering a new kind of comfort he’d never known before. he was always used to feel shy around you, his heart brimming with so much love and admiration that he could barely meet your gaze. but now, that love has multiplied, and all he wants is to lose himself in your eyes for as long as you’ll let him.
you step to the side, offering him one last smile before the two of you begin to walk in sync. it no longer feels out of place. just right.
“can I hold your hand?” he asks, a hint of the familiar shyness still laced in his words. but this time, there’s a newfound confidence beneath it. he’s certain you feel it too as you beam at him, gently intertwining your soft fingers with his calloused, scarred hand.
“you know…I…all this time, I was kinda freaking out! I didn’t know if this was actually a date or not, and I was extremely nervous this whole time. I’m sorry if things were a little awkward when we left the dorms” you look at him with reassurance; an amused giggle leaving your lips as you shake your head.
“please don’t apologize. I couldn’t even tell!”
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redrose10 · 3 days
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#9 from the picture game!
Warnings: None
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You sat at your computer screen anxiously waiting for your husband to answer your call. He was touring on the other side of the world and you might’ve missed him just a tiny little bit.
Finally after what felt like forever he picked up.
He didn’t say anything. Just sat staring at the screen. This was the eighth time you had called in the last four hours. The thing about Yoongi is he will always answer your call as long as he’s not performing or in an interview or something similar. And you knew that and would occasionally use it to your advantage.
Like right now when you called to ask him a question that you already knew the answer to. “Y/N,”, he said softly.
Not babe, baby, jagiya, kitten. Just your name. You knew he was getting frustrated maybe even a little annoyed so this was going to have to be the last time you called him.
“Ummm do you know where our measuring cups are? I want to bake some cookies and can’t find them.”, you asked rather shyly because you knew exactly where they were. The cookies were already made and cooling on a rack in the kitchen.
Yoongi licked his lips, “They should be in the drawer next to the spoons. If they’re not there then just let me know and I’ll order a new set and have them rush delivered.”
That was just like Yoongi. Even though he was exhausted and frustrated with you he would still go out of his way to make sure you were taken care of no matter what.
“Thanks Yoongs. I’ll check there. Get some sleep. I love you.”
“I love you too.”, he said before quickly ending the call.
You closed the laptop and slid it under the bed not wanting to be tempted to call him again. You were already pushing your luck.
Instead you did some laundry, straightened up the apartment, made lunch. You felt like hours had gone by so you grabbed the laptop excited to call Yoongi again as he should be awake by now.
Much to your dismay though the clock showed that barely two hours had passed. You closed the laptop and walked over to the bed.
“I can’t call him again. He needs to sleep.”, you sighed.
Maybe laying in the bed was a bad choice because the sheets still smelled faintly of him, only making you miss him more.
You tried to hold out as long as you could which ended up only being at extra twenty minutes before excitingly running over to your desk.
You waited and waited and finally Yoongi’s face popped up on the screen. His eyes were barely open and his hair was a mess. You had clearly woken him out of a deep sleep and you felt awful.
This time he didn’t even speak. He just sat there and stared at the screen.
You could feel your emotions starting to bubble up. Your bottom lip began to shake.
“I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay Y/N. What do you need this time? Find the measuring cups?”, he asked.
You nodded, “Yeah I made double chocolate chip cookies.”
He nodded but remained silent.
“Umm I just…I”, you said fidgeting with a loose thread in your tshirt.
Yoongi stayed silent as he waited for you to continue.
So you said, “I was just wondering…If there was a zombie apocalypse and I got bit would you still love me even though I was a zombie?”
You saw him swallow thickly. He used his elbow to prop up his head and leaned forward to get a closer look. His eyes squinted at you and his eyebrows furrowed. His mouth stayed slightly agape. He didn’t speak. He looked like he was in shock, maybe a tad disgusted.
“I’m sorry Yoongi. I just miss you a lot. I won’t bother you again and I’ll try to change so I don’t do this again. Go get some sleep and call me when you wake up.”, you said feeling ridiculous before quickly ending the call.
You sat staring out the window for a few a moments trying to think of something to distract you. Your phone vibrated on the desk.
Your heart swelled and your cheeks hurt from how hard you smiled.
A text from Yoongi,
“I’d build you a really nice cage where I could keep you and still come visit you from afar because yes I would still love you even if you turned into a zombie. But I love you more just the way you are now so please don’t change, especially into a zombie because I like kissing you too much and I don’t want to give that up.”
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candycandy00 · 2 days
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Come Find Me - A Hawks x Reader x Dabi Horror Fanfic
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You’re dating your childhood friend Touya, and things are going well, until you’re kidnapped and drugged by a serial killer named Keigo. 
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dark Content. Noncon/Rape via drugging and Dubcon. Humiliation. Voyeurism. This is a dark, disturbing fic! 
Written for the Halloween challenge in the X Reader Lovers Community! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!
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You step out of your parents’ house, closing the door behind you and making sure your phone is crammed into your small purse. As you step off the porch and into the driveway, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see your next door neighbor and childhood friend Touya crossing over into your yard. 
“Goin’ somewhere?” he asks, glancing at his watch. 
“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things at the store for mom,” you reply. 
He stands there awkwardly for a moment, looking around. “It’s gettin’ pretty dark. Want me to go with you?”
You smile at his concern. The two of you are both in college, but still live in your childhood homes for now. Partly because you’re hesitant to separate. You’ve been in love with him since you were children, and only recently confessed your feelings to him. In true Touya fashion, he’d scoffed, looked away, and blushed before quietly admitting that he felt the same way. 
You’re still trying to navigate this new dynamic in your relationship. You’ve only been on a couple of dates so far, and only had your first kiss three days ago as the two of you sat on your bed watching a movie. Despite being adults, you feel like teenagers sneaking around. Touya suggested taking a weekend trip just to have some privacy. You’re excited for what might happen when you’re truly alone together.
“I’ll be fine,” you tell him. “I’m just going to the convenience store down the street.”
He frowns. “Yeah, but with those rumors going around…”
“I’ll take mom’s car, okay? Seriously, I’ll be fine. We used to walk to that store all the time when we were kids, remember?”
You understand his concern. For the past few months, women around your age have been turning up dead, their bodies butchered in horrific ways. Rumors have been going around that they all had one thing in common besides being in their early twenties. 
All of them had high levels of Cupid’s Arrow in their system.
Cupid’s Arrow is a new, very dangerous drug that you had zero interest in until the rumors started. After all, you’ve never tried anything stronger than some cheap weed Touya bought from a friend when you were both teenagers. And Cupid’s Arrow is powerful, with terrifying effects. 
Anyone given Cupid’s Arrow will immediately develop an intense romantic and sexual obsession with the first person they see after taking it. The effect is so strong that the user will do literally anything to please the object of their obsession, even if it results in great harm.
Apparently, some couples who are into more extreme activities like to try using it, and some couples have used it as a way of proving their trust in each other. And of course, like with all things, there are people who use it to abuse others, basically turning people into their own brainwashed sex slaves. 
The idea of these poor women being given the drug, being abused in some disgusting way, and then murdered while still on the drug, disturbs you greatly. The poor things probably laid there and let the killer chop them up, all the while looking at him adoringly. The thought sends shivers down your spine. 
Still, the women were all found near the city, not out in the suburbs where you live. And the store is close by. What kind of life is it if a grown woman can’t go to a store by herself? 
You give Touya a kiss on the cheek and climb into your mom’s car. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him. 
He still looks worried as he watches you pull out of the driveway, throwing his hand up in somewhat awkward wave. 
The drive there is brief and uneventful, and the small store is uncrowded. You quickly gather up the items your mom needed and a couple of snacks for yourself, then start toward the front to check out. That’s when you remember Touya waiting for you, and decide to pick up something for him. 
You head back down the snack aisle again, barely noticing the other person walking down it. You stop and look over the various bags and packages until you spot the strawberry pocky Touya loves. You smile to yourself as you reach out to grab the last pack. Suddenly, another hand is reaching toward the pocky, brushing against your own. 
You draw back, looking at the man standing next to you. He’s just a few inches taller than you, with wavy dark blonde hair and sharp, golden eyes. 
“Oh, sorry!” he says, his face breaking into a friendly smile. He’s very good looking, though you think Touya is much hotter. 
“That’s okay,” you tell him, returning the smile, “you can have it.”
“Oh no, sweetheart, you take it,” he says, flashing a grin. 
You blink at the pet name, but decide to quickly make it clear that you’re taken. “I was just picking them up for my boyfriend. I can get him something else.”
If he’s deterred at all by your comment, he doesn’t show it. Instead he grabs the pack of pocky and casually tosses them into your basket. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m hungry for something different anyway.”
You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive or nice, so you give him an uneasy smile and nod before walking to the counter to pay, leaving him to continue browsing the snacks. 
When you step out into the cool evening air, you sigh as you hear your phone chime. You hope it’s not a message from your mom, adding another item to the list. You shift your bags to one arm and then dig your phone out of your purse, pausing in the middle of the parking lot to look at the screen. 
You smile. It’s a message from Touya, asking how the shopping trip is going. He really does worry too much. 
“Just leaving the store,” you type back. “See you soon.”
Just as you start to drop your phone back into your purse, you suddenly sense movement behind you. But before you can turn to look back, a white cloth covers your mouth and nose. You smell a strange chemical odor as your body becomes weak. Your bags, phone, and purse drop to the ground. 
A familiar, friendly voice at your ear says, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m taking you home with me.”
You want to fight, to struggle, but all strength has left your body. You’ve gone limp in his arms, and now, darkness overtakes you. 
When you wake up, you have no idea how much time has passed, and even less idea of where you are. It looks like the living room of a nice apartment, but it’s entirely unfamiliar to you. 
Blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you begin to notice other things. You’re sitting on a couch, still fully clothed, and your arms are tied behind your back with a very thin rope. You jerk against it, trying to pull free, but the knots are too strong. Your heart is racing and your head is pounding as you try to remember how you got here, to force the grogginess from your mind. 
You remember being at the store, paying for your items, then… someone grabbed you from behind! And now you remember the voice you heard. It was the handsome stranger from the snack aisle! Did he seriously kidnap you? 
As if the thought summoned him, he appears in a doorway, walking into the living room. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he says in that same friendly tone, as if he’s still chatting with you about pocky. He’s wearing casual clothes, ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. He looks good in them, and it makes you wonder why someone who looks like him has to resort to kidnapping women. 
Oh yeah, stuff like this is about power. He probably has no interest in girls who want him. 
“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. If there’s even a slim chance you can convince him to let you go, it’s worth trying. 
He smiles in an easy going way as he leans back against the wall. “Come on, it has to be obvious by now.”
The words, spoken so charmingly, send a jolt of fear through your heart. You look him in the eyes. “Are you going to rape me?”
He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s such a nasty term. The idea of holding down a struggling woman just doesn’t appeal to me. I want you to enjoy it too.”
You try to keep your voice even, rational. “I can’t enjoy it though. I have a boyfriend, remember?”
He laughs. “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll forget all about him as soon as I give you this.” 
From his pocket, he pulls a small clear vial of liquid. Then he walks over to a small end table you hadn’t noticed before and picks up a syringe. You feel your heart drop to your feet as a sense of dread washes over you. 
“What is that?” you ask, already suspecting the answer but unable to process the terrible truth until he says it. 
“You’ve heard of Cupid’s Arrow, right?” he asks, still acting so friendly. 
“Please don’t do this!” you cry, jerking on the ropes again. 
He steps closer as he fills the syringe. “It’s okay! Once you take this, you’ll enjoy everything I do to you. You’ll beg for my cock. You’ll want me inside you every minute of every day,” he says, standing over you and looking down with a sultry gaze. “And I’ll make sure I keep you satisfied.”
“No!” you shout, fighting against the ropes, trying to draw back away from him. 
He presses one knee into the couch beside you and holds the syringe in front of your panicked face. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”
You look up at him, tears dripping down your face. “Please… don’t! I don’t want this! I have someone I love,” you plead, your last hope being to appeal to his mercy. “I’m… I’m saving myself for him! So please…”
He pauses, a flicker of surprise on his face. Then he smiles. “In that case, I’ll be real gentle with you the first time. I’ll take good care of you.”
You’re shaking your head as he grips your shoulder, holding you steady. “Please please… don’t do this!”
As you feel the needle pierce your skin and a cold sensation flow into your body, you cry out the name of the person you wish you could see just one more time. “Touya!”
You black out again, slumping over on the couch with your hands still tied behind you. When you wake up the second time, your hands are free, but your arms are sore. You’re still wearing the same clothes you wore to the store. You try to get up from the couch, but a wave of dizziness washes over you, forcing you to sit back down. 
After giving yourself a moment for your head to clear, you slowly stand back up. You have to find a way out of here before he comes back. If you don’t look at him, the drug won’t activate. If you can just find a place to hide until it wears off, you’ll be in the clear! 
Carefully, while keeping your eyes on the floor and only occasionally glancing up at your surroundings, you navigate around the coffee table and out of the living room, to the small foyer and the front door. You try to open it, but it’s locked. Of course it is. You check the knob, but there’s some sort of electric lock device that requires you to input a code. 
Maybe there’s a back door? Or a balcony? If this is an apartment, and it’s on a low enough floor, maybe you could climb over and take your chances with a fall. A broken ankle would be better than whatever this man has planned for you. 
He’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer. You’re sure of it. You still remember the report you read about one of the women they found. She was the same age as you, in college like you. And she’d been completely gutted, all her insides on the outside, her naked, butchered body tossed by the side of a road. 
You head back through the living room, toward the back row of curtains. The balcony must be there! Just before you reach them, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body and pull you back. 
“Where are you wandering off to?” he asks, his tone as cheerful as ever. He turns you to face him, and you slam your eyes shut. 
“Come on, sweetheart, look at me,” he says, dragging you back toward the couch. 
You shake your head, screaming “I’d rather die!” You struggle and squirm in his arms, desperate to get free, but his grip is strong. 
“Don’t say that,” he says with a light chuckle, as if your battle to escape is amusing. He pushes you down onto the couch, on your back, and you feel him climb on top of you to hold you down with his body. He smells like expensive cologne, the kind of trendy stuff Touya would never wear. 
“Open your eyes,” he says, his voice finally taking on a slightly firm tone. 
You shake your head again. “Never!”
He sighs. “I’m not so bad, right? I’m hot, I’m clean, I’m funny, and I know how to please a woman. I can make you cum until you pass out. I see the way chicks look at me. They want me. You’re pretty lucky!”
Tears are leaking out of your closed eyes. “But you’re not the man I love! I don’t care how hot you are, or any of that other stuff! I just want to be with Touya!”
He goes quiet, not speaking. Is he just waiting for you to give out and open your eyes? Or is he considering your words? Without seeing the expression on his face, you can’t tell. “Why are you even doing this? If women want you, why use the drug?”
There’s a pause, then he answers. “You’ve never seen anyone under the effects of Cupid’s Arrow, have you? Most people haven’t. It’s hard to describe how incredibly hot it is, to have someone be completely devoted to you, obsessed with you, to have someone dedicate their whole life to pleasing you. When a pretty girl is crying her eyes out because she spilled a single drop of my cum out of her cute little mouth, it just does something to me.”
You sob, realizing he’s not going to let you go, and understanding what he’s going to be doing to you. All the things you wanted to experience with Touya, you’re going to be doing them with this stranger.  
You hear him sigh again. “I really hate using force, but you’re leaving me no choice here.”
His fingers are now on your face, prying open your right eyelid. You scream and buck, trying to shake him off you, but it’s no use. He’s too strong. You’re forced to look at his handsome, friendly face. 
The effect is immediate. Your body craves him instantly, powerfully. You stare up at him with both eyes open as he climbs off you and stands up. 
You sit up, your eyes drawn to him. 
“Stand up,” he says, “and take off your clothes.”
Your body obeys, standing up from the couch and peeling off your shirt. As you strip off the rest of your clothing, you realize this nightmare is even more horrific than you thought. 
Because you’re still aware of everything. You know you’ve been drugged, you know you don’t love this man, you know you don’t want to do these things with him. You know you love Touya. 
But your body is seemingly acting on its own. It wants him, wants his touch, wants to make him happy. Even as your mind screams at the humiliation of being stark naked in front of this stranger, your body heats up with excitement. With horror, you realize you’re already dripping wet. It’s a sensation you’ve only ever felt while thinking of Touya, and it makes you feel sick now. 
When he steps closer, every cell in your body wants to reach out to him, to feel his skin. But you remain still, waiting for him to give another command. 
He reaches out one hand and brushes your hair back from your face. Just that subtle touch leaves you breathless. 
“So pretty,” he says, his golden eyes traveling up and down your body. You’ve never been more embarrassed! He takes one of your hands and leads you out of the living room, down a short hall and into a bedroom. 
You know what’s going to happen, and you’re equal parts horrified and aroused. Your mind at war with your body. You open your mouth to speak, to beg him to let you go, but instead of the words you want to say, completely different words flow out of you. 
“Please, take me,” you say, your voice a desperate plea. “I can’t wait any longer!”
He smiles, and your heart skips a beat. He’s so hot, with such beautiful eyes… no! These aren’t your thoughts! The drug is making you think these things!
“Just give me a minute,” he says, “and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never imagined.”
With that, he steps back from you and pulls off his shirt. His body is well toned, his skin smooth but for the thin trail of blonde hair leading from his navel down under the waistband of his jeans. Oh god, you want him so badly! Your juices are dripping down your thighs as you look at him. But it’s just the drug. You know that. 
He pushes you onto the bed, your back against the mattress, then climbs onto the foot of the bed, on his knees. He pushes your knees apart, spreading you open for his gleaming golden eyes to drink in. For once, the two warring sides of you have the same reaction: your heart racing wildly, but for very different reasons. 
“I said I’d make you feel good, right? So just relax,” he tells you, his warm hands sliding under your ass to lift your hips up slightly as he bends forward, licking one stripe up your drenched pussy. 
The pleasure is electric, shooting through your entire body with such a simple motion. It must be the drug. You squirm beneath him, arching your back, wanting more. And he gives you more. 
His tongue pushes in between your slick folds, quickly finding your clit and licking it with the kind of expert precision you’d expect from a guy who bragged about how much he could make you cum. You’re engulfed in pleasure, even down to your curling toes, as his lips surround the delicate nub and suck on it softly, his tongue circling the tiny tip. You’ve never felt anything so amazing in your life. 
And you hate it. Because he’s not Touya. Because he’s doing all this against your will. Because forcing you to enjoy it all with drugs only fucks up your mind even more. 
When you cum, trembling and gasping, you feel ashamed, like you betrayed the man you really love. Tears leak out of your eyes, either from being overwhelmed by pleasure or some remnant of your true feelings. The stranger raises up and brushes them away with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he tells you in a sweet voice. “Just let yourself feel it.”
His kindness makes your heart flutter. This drug is making you fall in love with him! No, that’s unbearable! He’s taking your heart as well as your body! 
He sits back on his knees in the bed, your legs still spread open before him, and unbuttons his jeans. You watch in breathless anticipation as he pulls his cock out. It’s a little longer than you expected, and much thicker. The girthy organ is already hard and glistening at the tip, ready to violate you. 
You try to will your voice to scream, your hands to shove him away, your legs to close. But your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. Cupid’s Arrow saw to that. 
The man pauses, looking down at your flushed, teary face. “Oh that’s right, I haven’t told you my name,” he says. You simultaneously have no interest in it and are dying to know. “It’s Keigo. So you know what to scream out while I’m fucking you.” 
He says the last part with a wink. As if he’s being cute, and not about to rape you. It nauseates you. “Please,” you say, your voice not belonging to you, “fuck me, Keigo!”
His eyes light up with excitement as he pulls your body down the bed, closer to him, lining himself up with your entrance. “I said this before, but I promise I’ll be gentle with you, since it’s your first time.”
You want to sob. This was supposed to happen with Touya! All you can do is close your eyes and try to block this all out as you feel him ease his way into you. As promised, he’s gentle, going very slowly and carefully. The drug is making you love it, making you want all of him inside you, filling you up completely. 
He’s stroking your hair lovingly, kissing your lips as his firm body brushes against yours. He looks so good above you, his hair falling into his eyes as he gazes down at you, his hard cock gradually pushing further into your wet, eager pussy. But you don’t want this! 
Your arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer as he finally bottoms out inside you, the stretch giving just the right amount of pleasant sting. He waits for a moment, looking into your eyes, then kisses you deeply as he begins thrusting. His tongue is in your mouth, invading it, just as his cock is invading you. His thrusts are slow and deep, intimate in a way that horrifies you. 
This isn’t a simple fucking. Even a virgin like you can tell that much. The way he’s taking his time, maintaining eye contact, caressing your body… he’s making love to you. It’s so much worse than if he’d just dragged you into an alley, fucked you, and left you behind. Because this is agonizingly slow, and it’s a violation of everything you are. 
This is going to break your mind. 
Tears are coming out again, despite your moans and cries of pleasure. Keigo pauses and wipes your tears again. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
The question makes you want to scream. Is he really this delusional? But you smile up at him against your will and say, “No, it just feels so good!”
He smiles. “I’m glad. I want you to feel good,” he murmurs between kissing you, going back to thrusting into you again, this time a bit harder. “I want you to feel nothing but good, forever.”
One of his hands slides down between your bodies, his fingers finding and stroking your swollen clit. Your body twitches, arching against him, your breaths hitching. “Ahhh… Keigo!”
You’ve never felt anything like this, nothing so incredibly powerful. Your pussy clenches around him, desperate for him to cum inside you, your arms are around his neck, clinging to him like a true lover as he draws a second orgasm from your trembling body. 
He stares at your face as you cum, and you’ve never felt more humiliated. A stranger is seeing all these intimate parts of you, when you only ever wanted to show them to Touya. 
Keigo kisses you again, then plunges in deeply and releases his load, filling you up. You want to scream again, repulsed by the possibility of being impregnated by this monster. But your body craves it, hungers for his cum, clamps down on him to milk him completely. 
True to his word, Keigo is gentle with you for the rest of the night, even as he fucks you three more times. It’s only the beginning of your nightmare. 
************************************
Touya sits at his dad’s computer, one hand sweaty on the mouse and the other gripping his own knee strong enough to bruise it. He swallowed his pride and asked his asshole father for help after his girlfriend had been missing for three days. Being the son of the police chief had its advantages. 
His father stands behind him as he clicks play on the video file. It’s security camera footage from the convenience store she went to, on the night she disappeared. Touya watches as she walks out of the store, bags in hand. She pauses and digs her phone out of her purse. Is that when he sent her a text? 
Then a blonde man emerges from the store, goes up behind her, and holds something to her face. She struggles for a few moments, dropping all her stuff, then goes limp. 
Touya feels like he’s just watched a video of his own death. 
Someone took her, the love of his life, the girl he’s adored since he was five years old. For a man to take a woman by force this way, there’s no doubt he intends to harm her. The thought makes Touya’s blood boil. 
“Who is he?” Touya asks, his voice low.  
Touya’s father hesitates for a moment, as if he’s trying to think of the best way to say something terrible. Then he sighs and answers. “We don’t know his name, but we’ve seen him before, in other security footage.”
Touya turns around in the chair to look at his father. “Other footage? He’s been involved in other crimes?”
Again, a moment of hesitation before his father delivers the devastating answer. “He’s been seen grabbing other women this way. They were all found dead later. Touya, he’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer.”
Touya feels his heart stop, feels the entire world fall away as the words sink in. This man has her. He’s pumping her full of a drug that will turn her into his sex slave, which means he’s definitely raping her. Then he’s going to kill her in some grotesque and painful way. Touya can’t think of anything more nightmarish.  
He wants to smash the computer, charge out of his house and track that blonde asshole down. But he takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm himself down. He’ll never find his girlfriend if he lets his rage blind him. She needs him now more than ever. 
He’ll find her. Even if he has to turn the world upside down. 
“No one knows who he is?” Touya asks. 
His father shakes his head. “His face is never visible in the footage. We can’t ID him based on hair and build alone. He clearly knows what he’s doing.”
Touya turns back to the computer, rewinds the footage, and watches it again. It feels like stabbing himself in the heart, but he forces himself to watch it several more times, burning the image of the man into his brain. 
For the next week, Touya sits in the parking lot of the convenience store, watching every person who goes in or out. If the killer came here once, he could come here again.
On the sixth night, Touya is beginning to lose hope when he spots him. A guy who looks just like the man in the footage parks a vehicle near the edge of the parking lot and walk into the store. Touya’s heart pounds as he watches the man come back out, carrying a couple of bags. The man is smiling to himself as he climbs into his car and pulls out onto the road. 
Touya follows him, staying back far enough to avoid detection but close enough to see any turns the car makes. Eventually the bastard pulls into a high end apartment complex just inside the city. Touya parks far away, and watches from a distance as the man gets out of his car. He’s whistling to himself, the sound echoing in the parking garage, as he gets into an elevator. 
As the doors close, Touya rushes over to see what floor the elevator stops on. Fifth floor! Touya sprints to the stairwell and hurries up the flights of stairs, hoping he’s fast enough to see which apartment the man goes into. He’s panting by the fourth floor, cursing himself for not working out more when his brothers invited him to the gym with them. But he reaches the fifth floor quickly, and carefully opens the door, peeking out around the edge, hoping to see the man without being seen himself. 
To Touya’s surprise, the hall is empty. The man is nowhere to be seen. Was Touya too slow? That would probably mean he’s in one of the apartments closer to the elevator, right? Maybe he could knock on a few doors, pretend he’s looking for a lost pet. 
Touya steps out of the stairwell and begins walking down the hall, passing several apartments and a maintenance room. Just as he gets close to the elevator, a white cloth suddenly closes over his mouth and nose. His mind races, remembering the images from the security footage, understanding that the same thing is happening to him. 
“I don’t know why you’re following me,” a voice says, “but we’ll figure that out when you wake up.”
And then, everything goes dark.
When Touya wakes up, he finds himself in a hardback chair in a living room, his arms tied securely behind his back with thin but sturdy rope. His ankles are tied to the chair legs. He squints his eyes at the brightness of the lighting, trying to force himself to focus on his surroundings. 
Before he’s fully alert, however, the blonde man walks into the room and sits on the couch, relaxing into it as if he’s entertaining a guest. He’s holding something in his hand, and it takes a moment for Touya to realize it’s his own driver’s license. 
The man smiles at him in a friendly way. “So you’re Touya,” he says, as if he’s heard all about him. “It’s nice to meet you. I can guess why you’re here.”
It looks could kill, Touya would have murdered this man in seconds. “Where is she?”
“She?” the man asks, a phony innocent expression on his smug face. 
Touya jerks against the ropes, then glares at the man again. “You know who I’m talking about.”
“Oh, you mean my new pet? She’s in the bedroom, all spread out for me, waiting for me to fuck her pretty little pussy.”
For one brief moment, Touya feels white hot rage fill every inch of his body. He yanks on the ropes so hard, it’s a miracle he doesn’t break his own bones. “Fuck you, you fucking loser! Can’t get a woman to let you fuck her without drugging her, huh?!”
The man laughs. “Before Cupid’s Arrow came along, I was fucking so many women I got bored. I wanted something more.”
“What? You think she loves you?!” Touya yells. 
“To be honest, I don’t care if she actually loves me. All I care about is feeling loved. And she definitely makes me feel loved.”
Touya looks at him with disgust. “You’re fucking sick. Why kill all the others then? Didn’t they make you feel loved?!”
The man’s smile fades. “The problem with Cupid’s Arrow is that it wears off if I don’t keep injecting it. So when I ease them off the drug and they start screaming, well, I don’t feel so loved anymore. But,” he says, his eyes gleaming, “I heard a rumor that certain people, when given the drug long enough, are permanently affected by it. It never wears off even after they stop taking it.”
“So you’re just gonna keep kidnapping and murdering women until you find someone like that?” Touya asks, his patience growing thin. 
The man grins. “Oh, I don’t have to do that anymore. I found her.”
Touya’s eyes widen. “You’re fuckin’ lying.”
“I haven’t given her the drug in three days. It should be out of her system by now, but she’s still completely obsessed with me.”
Touya gives him a murderous stare. “I don’t believe you.”
The man is still grinning. “Why don’t I show you? I’m sure she’s crying by now, thinking I’m neglecting her. She probably doesn’t even remember you at this point, but I’ll let you see her, since I’m such a nice guy.”
He turns his head toward the doorway leading to a short hall. “Sweetheart, come in here! We have a guest!”
Touya’s eyes are glued to the doorway, desperate to see her, to confirm she’s still alive, but terrified to see what’s been done to her. 
She appears like an angel, positively glowing. She’s wearing nothing but frilly pink panties and bra, something she would never choose for herself. Touya grew up with her. Of course he’s seen the plain straps of her sports bra and the occasional glimpse of her striped cotton panties.
As she steps into the room, her eyes fall upon Touya, and she seems to freeze for a moment. Touya sees it, the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the flash of relief to see him again, then the horror she must be feeling to know that he’s going to witness whatever this monster has been doing to her. 
Touya knows, because he researched Cupid’s Arrow extensively after finding out who had taken his girlfriend. He knows that many people reported still being aware of everything while under its influence. That look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. 
She walks over and sits beside the man on the couch, no longer looking at Touya. “Keigo~” she purrs, “come to bed!”
So his name is Keigo. The sick fucker. He wraps an arm around her. “But I have a guest. Why don’t we put on a little show for him?”
There it is again, a look in her eyes that Touya is sure only he would recognize. Her facial expression is cheery and excited, but her eyes show her true feelings. 
Keigo gives her arm an affectionate squeeze. “Come on, sweetheart. You know what I like when I get home.”
She giggles, and it sounds so different from her normal, genuine laugh that it makes Touya’s stomach churn. Then she slides off the couch and to her knees in front of Keigo. She doesn’t look back at Touya anymore, only focusing on opening Keigo’s pants and pushing her head forward. From this angle, Touya can’t see every detail, but it’s obvious that she’s sucking Keigo off. The wet, slurping sounds fill the room. 
Touya turns his head, unable to watch. 
“Hey,” Keigo says, “she’s working so hard to put on a show for you. It’s rude not to watch!”
“Fuck you!” Touya yells, still not looking. 
Keigo grins. “Maybe later. I have more Cupid’s Arrow on hand.”
Touya feels like gagging. The thought of being forced to be intimate with this asshole disgusts him. Then he remembers that she’s been suffering that exact fate for over a week. 
“If you don’t watch,” Keigo says, “I’ll make her do something gross or painful. If I tell her to, she’ll eat literal shit from the toilet. Or I could make her pluck out one of her own eyes.”
Feeling more enraged than ever, Touya looks at the couple, watching his girlfriend’s head bob on this monster’s cock. His eyes meet Keigo’s. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you for this.”
Keigo suddenly grips her hair. “Ahh, just a minute Touya, I’m cumming in your girl’s mouth.”
Touya jerks at the ropes again. This time, it feels like the one on his left wrist is a little looser. 
Keigo is patting her head. “Good girl, you didn’t spill a drop.”
She glances back at Touya, and her eyes are wet, but she doesn’t say anything. 
He looks straight at her. “It’s okay, baby. I know you don’t wanna do this. I know this pathetic asshole drugged you. I’ll get you out of here, I promise!”
Keigo stares at him for a moment, his eerie golden eyes sharp. Then he suddenly claps his hands once as if he just had a great idea. “I think I’ll do you both a favor, since I’m in a good mood! Sweetheart, crawl over there and suck Touya’s cock.”
Touya feels like his blood just froze in his veins. “Don’t make her do this!” he shouts. 
She looks at Touya, and though her eyes look mortified, her lips curve up into a smile. “Of course, Keigo. Anything you want!”
She crawls across the floor to Touya, looking him in the eyes. When she reaches him, her hands slide up his thighs and find his belt, unbuckling it and then opening his pants. 
“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m so sorry for what he’s done to you. But it’s almost over.”
She has no reaction to his words, instead reaching into his pants and pulling out his soft cock. “Aww, it’s not hard yet,” she says. 
Touya thinks this situation is just about the least sexy thing he can imagine, but her soft hands wrap around him and begin gently stroking. This is too cruel. Touya has dreamed of being touched this way by her since he was a teenager, and now it happens in the worst way possible for both of them. 
When she begins licking his tip, his cock starts to stiffen. It’s purely a physical reaction to the stimulation of her touch, but it makes him feel ashamed. He doesn’t want her to think this clear violation of her is actually turning him on. 
She takes him into her mouth, her sweet, pillowy lips gliding up and down him, drenching him in her saliva. He can’t help thinking of that day, sitting on her bed, when she kissed him. He’d wanted to go further, and was sure she did as well, but her parents were downstairs and the thought of them walking in was too awkward. 
His idea had been to plan a weekend getaway for just the two of them. Now he wishes he’d just gone for it, because he hates for this to be their first intimate moment together. 
Regardless, his body is responding to her, even though he’s nowhere near in the mood. And after several minutes, he feels his climax approaching. She must feel it too, because her lips clamp around his base as he cums. She sucks him dry, swallowing every drop, then finally pulls away and stands up, walking back over to Keigo. 
“So who’s cum tasted better?” Keigo asks her. 
She sits down beside him and snuggles up to him. “Yours did of course!”
Touya pulls on the rope again, acting as if he’s just blindly jerking on it out of rage, but the left wrist is getting looser. If he can just work it a bit more…
“Oh, but you haven’t been satisfied yet, have you sweetheart?” Keigo asks. 
Touya knows where that question is leading, and feels his heart sink. He has to get his hand free, and fast! 
Keigo grins right at Touya as he tells her, “Why don’t you ride my cock like you usually do?”
*******************************
If you could kill Keigo, you would. But your body doesn’t belong to you. He’s already made you do suck horrifically embarrassing things in front of Touya, you could die of shame. And now he wants more? 
This is the worst possible scenario you could imagine. To have the love of your life watch you do these things with another man is nothing short of a nightmare. Any joy you felt at seeing him again was replaced with terror. Is Keigo going to kill him? 
Your body stands up and faces Keigo, but he turns you around to face Touya. He clearly wants to torment both of you. He slides your panties down and you step out of them. Touya averts his eyes. 
“Now, now, Touya,” Keigo says, “What did I say about you not watching?”
This monster is using threats to force Touya to watch. Your face burns when Touya’s beautiful blue eyes shift back to you. He has an apologetic expression. Somehow he knows you’re aware of everything. He knows you’re still in here. 
With your beloved boyfriend watching, you ease back into Keigo’s lap. You can feel his erection pressing against you. Despite your shame and horror, you rise up slightly and line him up with your entrance, then sink down onto his cock. 
Keigo’s hands are on your thighs, keeping them spread open so Touya can see his cock plunging into your dripping pussy. Touya looks horrified, but under the drug’s influence, you begin riding Keigo, bouncing up and down on his meaty cock, moaning his name as if you love him. 
Your eyes meet Touya’s, and his expression softens. “I love you,” he says. “Nothing this sick fuck does can ever change that!”
Oh, Touya! How you wish you could tell him how you feel! 
Keigo slides one hand up your thigh and uses his fingers to spread your folds, then begins rubbing circles into your clit. Your back arches as you cry out in pleasure.  
“See, Touya?” Keigo asks. “I can please her better than you ever could. She likes having her clit played with, right sweetheart?”
“Yes!” you scream, riding him harder, your traitorous body chasing its climax. You’re so close! You lock eyes with Touya again as you say, “I’m… I’m…!” Your body wants to say you’re cumming, but for just this moment, staring into the eyes of the man you truly love, your heart wins out. 
“I’m sorry, Touya!” 
The words are forced out through your unwilling mouth as tears drip down your face. Touya’s eyes widen. Keigo pulls you off him and shoves you to the floor, clearly alarmed by your tiny spark of free will. Then, all at once, chaos erupts. 
Touya’s hands snap free from behind him and he lunges across the room, dragging the chair still tied to his ankles along with him. He tackles Keigo to the floor and begins punching him with both fists. Keigo tries to block them with his arms but Touya’s unbridled fury overwhelms him, and soon Keigo’s face is a bloody mess. You watch in stunned silence. The drug is telling you to pull Touya off him, to try to help the man you’ve been forced to adore, while your heart is telling you to help Touya mangle him. 
In the end, you do neither, and Keigo eventually stops moving. You know he’s dead before Touya even stops punching him. 
The effect is immediate. Suddenly, you’re so obsessed with Touya that you want him to take you now, right next to Keigo’s bloody corpse. 
Cupid’s Arrow is still in effect, but with Keigo dead, the target of your obsession is the next person you laid eyes on. 
Touya pants for a few moments after killing Keigo, then flops over onto his ass and begins untying the ropes from his ankles. Every little movement he makes is beautiful to you. 
To be honest, it’s not so different from how you viewed him before. 
He quickly crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms. “It’s over, baby, I’ve got you!”
You look up at him with glistening eyes, then wrap your arms around his neck. “Touya! I love you so much!”
He pulls back slightly and looks at you. “It transferred to me, huh? I read about this. It’s okay, we’ll get you to a hospital and they can pump the drug out of your system! You’ll be okay!”
You try to kiss him, but he blocks you. “Touya,” you whine, “I’ve wanted you for so long! Please…”
“I want you too,” he says, “but not when you’re drugged. We’ll have plenty of time together after you’re better.”
You pout as he stands up and helps you to your feet. “Get dressed,” he tells you, and you follow his command as he searches the apartment for his phone, finding it on the kitchen counter and then calling the police. 
The next few weeks are a blur. Keigo’s death is ruled as self defense, and you go through extensive testing and treatments at the hospital. They determine that you’re one of the rare people who are permanently affected by Cupid’s Arrow after having high doses injected for several days. The doctors say there’s a chance you’ll recover someday, and recommend that you stay near Touya for your own mental health, since the two of you already had a long relationship. 
You’re not too bothered by it. Because you love Touya and you know he loves you. 
But Touya is struggling. He finds it difficult to resist your advances, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. Even though you’ve tried telling him you really do want to be with him, he’s afraid it’s the drug talking. For weeks, he doesn’t touch you. 
The first couple of times he wakes up to find you sucking his cock, he gently pushes you away. After seeing your distraught reaction however, he begins letting you continue until he cums in your mouth. He always looks at you with a guilty expression afterward, and it breaks your heart. 
It’s two months after your rescue before he finally eats you out, after you spend days spread out on his bed, tearfully begging him to give you release.
Gradually, his resistance crumbles more and more, until he’s fucking you into the mattress every night, his face buried in your shoulder, murmuring, “I’m sorry!” over and over like a mantra. 
You really do want him, but he doesn’t know it, and that uncertainty has him consumed by guilt. He thinks he’s doing the same thing Keigo did to you, and that haunts him, even as he thrusts into you so deeply that you see stars. Your cries of ecstasy might as well be cries of pain to him, and it eats away at his mind. 
Maybe someday the effects of the drug will wear off, and you can tell Touya how much you love him, how much you want him every day. Until then, you can only watch him spiral into self loathing as your body sings with pleasure. 
107 notes · View notes
sepublic · 3 days
Text
The core to Belos’ character is that he’s everything wrong with the United States of America. Why else is he a Puritan, a group of racist settlers who helped found the U.S. and contributed to the genocide of the Native Americans? Why else does he dress up like a Founding Father when not in papal robes, with a ponytail resembling a powdered wig?
Luz thinking he’s a great explorer, only to find out Philip is just an entitled asshole who takes credit from others to make himself look better, is a play on people IRL finding out that people like Christopher Columbus and Thomas Edison were assholes who stood on the shoulders of others. It’s a play on white mediocrity and how white guys do the bare minimum and expect to be praised.
Belos is a bigot whose entire motive and goals are based on genocide-level bigotry, and he refuses to unlearn any beliefs; Being a historical Puritan he is 100% racist and misogynistic and unlike Caleb, didn’t take the chance to grow out of it. He wants to believe he’s born special and better than everyone else, and that’s why he buys into white supremacy.
There is an explicit connection between the colonial genocide of Native Americans and Belos’ genocide of witches and demons, down to imposing a Christian misunderstanding of the local religion. He feels entitled to their magic but does none of the work to understand, nor does he cultivate a sustainable relationship with the land the way indigenous people do, hence consuming palismen.
He coined the term Savage Ages, with Savage having racist connotations. His fantasy is the Monster Hunter, the idea that it’s okay to dehumanize anything and even anyone that’s different to kill them. He believes in the Evil Races trope which is of course inherently racist. Belos treats Luz like his White Man’s Burden, a brown child who needs a White Savior to civilize (just as the U.S. kidnapped Native American children to assimilate), and then tries to kill Luz when she doesn’t go along instead of just. Leaving Luz alone or dragging her into the human realm with him anyway.
Belos makes exceptions to his religion when convenient, allowing himself to use magic but then demonizing those who do, just as homophobic Christians and Republicans do. Think of all the anti-gay politicians who are caught being gay; They’re not repressed victims, just hypocrites who think they’re entitled to special treatment. Philip didn’t rat on Caleb for hanging out with a witch for the reasons Pro-Lifers let loved ones have abortions; Caleb was important to him, and he’s not one of the witches Philip planned to murder. And even then he still killed Caleb for ‘crossing a line’!
The Puritans and other groups informed the Alt-Right in the U.S., as well as Evangelicals who rage about how something as innocuous as Pokemon is a Satanic influence (Yes this happened; The Conformatorium doesn’t seem so unrealistic after all, and remember that Dana’s father gave her a copy of Pokémon Red before he died that she latched onto). But like the Televangelist, Belos indulges in material wealth and glory via the glamour of Catholicism, because he’s not even consistent to Puritan values either.
He’s Trump, he’s Elon Musk, he’s Ron DeSantis. He’s the incel/mass shooter who fell down the pipeline, who feels cheated out of the promises of a white supremacist society and takes it out on minorities but not other white guys, because he thinks the system’s idea is fine it just isn’t working as it should, at least he’s better than those guys.
Belos’ reaction to Caleb being with Evelyn was undeniably motivated by racial disgust at his brother for committing miscegenation and making Philip related to a savage in the process, it’s why he never brings it up because of the scandalous shame of it all. He thinks taming a wilderness and its natives makes him a tough man because he’s insecure. He has a sniveling victim complex that can’t comprehend why minorities would dislike him, except that they’re mean. Belos epitomizes the U.S.’s racial and colonial violence, its white supremacy, and its global police narrative that decides the existence of another, independent world is an inherent threat to his own.
The conflict between Philip and Caleb was over racism, and so it’s black and white because racism is always wrong. Making it ‘nuanced’ would take away from the fact that the motives for real life racism are inherently nonsensical and insincere; Caleb wasn’t selfish for living with another culture on its terms, instead of staying in the racism village (The Gravesfield statues corroborate Philip being an adult when he arrived in the Demon Realm, according to the memory portraits; Caleb waited until Philip was an adult before leaving). Philip was not a weird kid, he was adhering to his social norms with games about how anyone different or actually weird should die, and he wanted to do this.
Even if he was weird, Belos isn’t telling other people they should fit in for their sake, he’s telling them they should just die (Unlike himself, because he’s ‘special’); It’s what he admits to the Collector in the finale about not bothering teaching them anything, just wiping them out. And the choice for the villain to be a genuine Puritan makes sense, because this is a show about weirdoes, so who’s designating them as such and why? Luz has a conflict with the IRL system since the first scene and Belos symbolizes the system, his Puritan ideology marked the foundation for it and the U.S.
Belos killing Caleb is just the cherry on top of his actual motives and what his character was always about, that’s why his death scene isn’t him lamenting about Caleb or how lonely he is, it’s him being racist and demanding special treatment for his race. A racist white man feels no guilt for the witches and demons he murdered, just his white brother and clones; He still keeps killing them too btw.
Deeming someone a lost cause and killing them instead of working to rehabilitate is un-Christian, because Belos is not secretly bound by his religion, he picks and chooses. His guilt is not Catholic, he is the Protestant belief in his own superiority. Belos isn’t just a Nazi, he’s an American racist, he’s the KKK; He’s a condemnation of American Values and Exceptionalism, and lowkey I think that’s part of the reason why Family-Friendly Disney canned TOH, because Belos is a condemnation of a major consumer base. Disney being more progressive than other companies means jackshit because it’s performative and the bar is in hell.
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opal-owl-flight · 2 days
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TIRED OF WAITIN’ MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND
YEAH ITS ALRIGHT, WE BOTH KNOW THAT YOU WANT IT, DONT YOU BE SO SHY, SHY!
OH MY GOD I LOVE STARKILLER WIDNEKD. I had this idea for Tartar manipulating 3 with words similar to the song…
more abt that below + the piece without the words :]
I wonder if 3, at that point in OE, carry a thought within them... something Tartar can use.
The sanitization is absolute mind control, yes, but it would be neat if it was preceded by a sort of hypnosis; a suggestion that tartar puts out for a victim to bite onto (not that it really matters. The forced body control happens anyway.)
Theres a yearning for the past. That much I know. But I do wonder if Tartar also suggested something else alongside that.
"Ah, the legendary captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon. He probably was the one who pulled you out of that life, hm?"
"...Yes."
"Despicable, this old coot, forcing you to fight a war that ended a century ago. Forcing you to dig up a city your nation already buried.
Making you a weapon in this...disgusting show of continued dominance."
"..."
"Dont you want to end him, right here, right now?"
"...."
"Avenge that younger self, child. Join me, and we will make sure he never hurts you again."
"..."
They look at Cuttlefish. Cod, theyre so weak, their head hurts, they are in no shape to defend themself. Neither is the old man, but...
Their hearts were burning with a feeling theyve been burying for years. A feeling thats gotten stronger and stronger over the long patrol.
This...doubt. Towards the captain they followed the ends of the earth for. Day by day, being pushed to their limits for his continued war. Wanting his approval, wanting to make him proud. Believing that theyre indeed keeping this fragile world safe.
Wanting to...keep being this hero he said they were.
But its getting harder to believe those words now. Not when that Octarian from earlier was such a sweet soul...among others theyve encountered and observed in other patrols.
Their arm burned. It was drenched in that cyan ink the telephone was oozing.
They have no reason to trust this thing that almost killed Cuttlefish and that Octarian that he was with moments before.
Still...
They feel...
Their mind is slipping.
So tired...so hurt...
"Join me. I can give you rest.
Ill bring you...to the promised land."
"...Okay."
--------
They went fully unconscious for awhile. When they "awoke" (but is still under Tartar's control), they were already fighting 8. And their body hurt even more than before.
They never shouldve trusted him.....
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This baiting rings familiar, doesnt it. Order did it to 4, as well. Much to 3s horror, they were the reason she took that bait. Her desire to be their perfect agent, and their desire to never be hurt or used by anyone like Cuttlefish again...
They wanted her to be strong enough so she can stay safe and live her life the way she wanted to. But their fear spoke louder than their adoration for her.
Hurt people hurt people, cycle of violence, and all that.
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yayll · 2 days
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Hi!! It’s my first time requesting something so I dont know how that works.. um I was thinking of some mission like some kind of ball that dazai and y/n has to go and y/n has to seduce someone to get information out of them. You know those masquerade balls? Yeah I think that really goood!! And dazai gets sooooooooo jealous and after she got the information dazai kiss her infront of that person to show him that she’s his😭😭😭😭😭😭omg
HIII angel sorry this took me a while, but i hope you like it :') i tweaked your idea a lil and fingers crossed this is what you so graciously asked for. i tried to put my best jealous goofy ass dazai in there along with the absolute MUSH his brain turns into when he has you to himself mixed with a lil........ fucked in the headness. i love requests! this was soooo fun to write i love youuuuuu <3
~ a little something about Dazai and his uncharacteristic jealousy ~
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"Osamu, come on... You're my only sweetheart, you know that."
You call out half sweetly and half out of breath as you follow him down the hallway of the lavish event you were currently attending, dressed to the nines and trying to remain undercover. You were coming to realize why people didn't date within the workplace as he walked ahead, grumbling to himself. He's trying to remain unfazed, pretending to still be upset as he shrugs with his back turned to you.
"Hmph. I dunno, I don't feel like I'm your 'sweet' anything..."
This causes you to roll your eyes affectionately and pick up the pace, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder to finally stop him in his tracks. You flash him a sincere smile, and speak softly.
"I'm really sorry you had to see that. I didn't know that asshole was going to kiss me after he let me go. I also didn't think you'd ever get jealous..."
You say that last part with a more playful tone, treading dangerous waters of your unpredictable lover's emotions. As expected, he sighs dramatically, casting you a look of disgust.
"Ugh, of course I'm not... That's honestly sooo lame and pathetic. I can entertain jealousy as much as I can entertain one of Kunikida's little speeches on morals, or whatever."
"You mean his 'ideals'?"
You chide, stifling a laugh. He glares at you, his eyes narrowing as he scans you for a moment.
He can't find a single flaw on that precious face, not a single stray hair or stain on your exquisite outfit. He should change that by the end of the night.
"... You're always so negative, correcting me and whatnot. Isn't it tiring being so irritatingly superior in every way?"
This one gets a laugh out of you, You can tell he's slowly lightening up his mood by the way you both begin walking side by side once again.
"Yeah well, if it weren't for that little kiss earlier, we'd both still be all tied up in the wine cellar of this wonderful party."
He flashes you a pout, and shrugs dismissively.
"And here I thought you of all people would like the idea of being tied up with me. Hmph, wrong partner, I suppose."
Now he was starting to pick back at you, though it was cute. Jealousy looked cute on him, it was something you didn't think he was capable of. It was a pity it had to be during a mission where your main asset was your seduction skills and his was mental instability. You hated every second of it, but you also wanted to make sure you both made it out with the secret intel alive.
You make your way into the grand ballroom, the gala is in full swing, and your eyes dart around to find a proper escape route. Just as you see an exit, a handsome and well dressed young man blocks your view, sticking his hand out.
"Hi. You're gorgeous. Care for a dance?"
You stare down at his hand and then back up at the stranger, your face flushing as you're caught off guard.
"Me? No, no I-"
Dazai immediately interjects, sloppily holding a glass of champagne that somehow manifested in his hand and pretends to be drunk. He loved his theatrics, especially when he was desperate.
He bumps harshly into the young man's shoulder, the alcohol sloshing out of the cup as he slurs, but not before he flashes you a wink to tell you to play along.
"Sooo sorry, pardon me. This indeed beautiful angel is quite busy you see... Taking care of me that is. Ooh, I'm a wreck! I'm nothing but a sad and lonely dog.. In this sad and lonely world-"
The man looks at Dazai skeptically, and huffs into a chuckle. He shoves him away, and turns his attention back to you. Your eyes dart nervously between the two, wondering what Dazai will do next.
"Shut it, clown.. Anyway, I think this further proves you should be in the company of a gentleman like me tonight rather than this wet mop-"
The sound of a champagne flute soaring through the air and connecting to the man's skull is suddenly heard, interrupting him and sending him falling to the ground along with broken glass and liquid everywhere. In one swift motion, Dazai is at your side with a premature victorious smirk, but before you can both be on your way, the man regains his posture and spins him around, punching him square in the face. Dazai's not scrawny or weak, but he isn't the most skilled fighter, relying mostly on his special ability and intelligence to get him out of things.
You gasp, instinctively grabbing Dazai by the collar of his suit and dragging him away to get lost in the crowd of concerned people. You finally make it outside and you both collapse onto the soft grass just outside the venue. It's decorated with all kinds of flowers and fragrant rose bushes, it almost looks like you're at the garden of Versailles. You look over at Dazai, his nose bleeding all over the place, but he looks completely unbothered by it. As you reach over to touch the bridge of his nose, he grabs your wrist and holds it away gently. He waves a finger at you.
"No touchy, I've got it."
He does not, in fact, got it. He looks around until he plucks a rose petal and uses it to wipe his nostrils. You frown, getting all up in his space within an instant.
"What on earth are you doing, Osamu? Let me help, you goofball. Your nose is a mess thanks to that stunt you pulled."
You tear off a bit of fabric from your outfit and dab his skin tenderly, holding his head on your lap now. You can see some blood has trailed down his neck, staining the bandages there along with the collar of his crisp white dress shirt you picked out for him this morning. Dazai perks up, his voice slightly strained but full of lightheartedness.
"How does it feel to work with the agency's most tactical and covert operative? Eh?~"
You bite back a smile, and shake your head. You murmur.
"Feels like he's asking for a death wish a little more than usual."
Your lips soon become a thin line, realizing your statement hurts a little more in the context of the situation than it usually would. He notices your mood shift as his eyes flicker from your concerned eyes down to your lips and back up again. He knows it hurts you when he's like this, reckless and acting out on the impulses of his own plans. He wants to sit up and close the gap between you, kiss you until you drop down those brave walls you're putting up for the sake of the mission. For the sake of your feelings for him. He knows he's careless with it all.
He hums, eyes trained on you as if burning the image of your heavenly self into his mind, where you always deserve to be. In the distance, a bulky sketchy looking man runs out of the venue frantically, looking around wildly and you both get the impression it's the guy from the cellar earlier who kissed you in exchange for your freedom.
Shit! You could have sworn you knocked him out cold. Dazai sits up from your lap and you two scoot more into the bush, trying to hide from him as he makes a call. You mutter under your breath, turning to Dazai as you begin to type something out on your communicator.
"Now's the perfect time to let the others know we're ready for extraction."
He's already looking at you, or gazing admiringly more like. He knows he can fuck up everything, pay any consequence, but the thing he needs to get right for the selfishness of his wretched little heart is you. He scoots a bit closer, hearing the sounds of both your shallow breaths harmonizing. He mutters, softly.
"It would also be the perfect time for you to kiss my face better. You know, for my wellness and all that. Besides, that guy wasn't very nice to us earlier and we need to get rid of any traces of him from those lips. Yuck."
You roll your eyes yet again, despite the fluttering that won't let your stomach rest.
"Who cares about that, we have a case to close first."
He smirks, voice dropping low and provocative.
"I care."
He leans in even further, practically caging you with both arms on either side of you. He can feel your breathing become more erratic, his own filled with a pathetic sense of need he always has when he's with you. Dazai's hand reaches out and grabs your chin, turning it up slightly to face him, making sure you drop this silly act once and for all. His voice comes out gentle, firm.
"I need you to physically push me away, or I swear I'm going to kiss you right now, cutie."
Your eyes widen as you let a shaky breath escape your plush lips, murmuring in return.
"I'll.. punch you in the nose again, you know..."
His hand moves from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek as he takes another breath, his body aching to be as close to yours as possible. His eyes are fixed on you, tearing you apart right then and there, but not before putting you back together so nicely. In that moment, he knows you don't mean that, and he knows he can't resist anymore.
He then whispers with a finality, the anticipation torturing him like you do on a daily basis.
"I don't think I'm going to listen to that..."
You break into a faint smile as you perceive him back.
"You've still got a little blood on your-"
Without another word, Dazai closes the remaining distance between you and him, kissing you with fervor as his soft whines reverberate against your lips. You taste sweetness and then... metallic as your lips mesh together for a heavenly moment. He feels alive, this was what he needed, the soothing balm for his soul and any other wound only you could provide. He's like a vampire, a parasite leeching off of your very essence so he could be himself around you. Cowardly burrowing into the safety of your heart. You squirm just a tad, your fingers carding through his brown hair as you try to keep up. He pulls back after his nose can't push more air through and keeps his lips hovering over yours, feeling the heat from your mouth mingle with his as he sees your lips stained red with his blood. Just as he's going to comment on how disgustingly erotic it is to see you like that, he pushes away the indecent thoughts, using the bandage on his wrist to wipe your mouth instead.
"Okay, I'll be good for now. You can call for extraction.~"
It was a dumb thing to do and could be seen as him being territorial or jealous, but the reality of it was that it was the natural order of things when it came to the way he processed his affections. Someone gets in between the two of you in any way?
An uglier and more dangerous past version of himself would have called for an immediate execution, there was a reason he held the titles that he did. He did his very best to keep that mentality at bay, rebuking it every time he felt a dark urge that he felt needed to be dealt with, mostly for your sake and for the sake of the promise he made to a friend once. Though he can't lie and say that's not who he is anymore, he can always find a better way to get his point across... even if a wishful bullet to the head comes out in the form of a kiss on your precious lips. He'll try for you. He'll wear the fastidious label proudly and be Dazai, a jealous man.
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iloveyanderes · 1 day
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EVEN MORE YANDERE/SAGAU IDEAS!!!!!!!!!!! WITH A LITTLE LESS YANDERE ON THE SIDE😉 BECAUSE I FORGOT TO INCORPORATE IT BETTER
1.A girl gets isekai’d after a boy she’d bullied had enough and killed her. She woke up in the body of a really kind girl in genshin that everyone is obsessed with, she decided to pretend to be this girl as a means of survival, as these people would most likely kill her if they found out she wasn’t that kind little girl. Along the way She met a boy who ended up being her first true friend, making her realize what she has done and wrong giving her the courage to want to change. Just when she got better leading to the path of redemption the boy was found dead completely crushing any type of kindness in her heart, she realized all the genshin characters had killed him so she vowed to kill them all but not before ruining all of there lives first(I actually attempted to write this a long time ago on wattpad but it never went into fruition, so this might seem familiar)
2.Small sagau idea but it goes like this: girl has golden blood for a completely different reason then the sagau idea, ends up in genshin and everyone mistakes her for the creator and she's freaking out trying to convince everyone she's not the creator
3.Genshin impact x Ichigo from tokyo mew mew reader. With your transformation, cat ears and tail, and the actual ability to turn into a cat everyone is trying to get a reaction out of you(look online and you’ll understand why) I'd imagine yae would take advantage of it with the whole gorou situation as proof. Also there is no way inazuma doesn’t have a bunch of light novels or manga on magical girls
4.Dragon reader vs bird reader. You’ll get no further explanation
5.Sagau idea where instead of the reader being the creator they are a holy saint/saintness who's supposed to represent the creator as their prophet who will feel nothing but utter devotion when they see the creator. However on the day that you prophesied the creator would descend something goes wrong, when you lay your eyes on them the only thing you feel is fear and disgust. It’s immediately prevalent that This is not the creator but a demon, everyone else believes this to be the creator however so you can’t really do anything without the fear of being killed or worse, so you resolve to find the true creator while pretending to still love this demon. Meanwhile the demon is someone who always believed themselves to be better then the creator, they’re jealousy blinded them until it turned into envy where they wanted to be the creator. Quite literally trapping them down in hell when they were supposed to descend and taking their place. Since they want to be the creator that meant they had to be loved by everyone including you-especially you. The saintness meant to serve the creator and adore they’re every movement, so they casted a charm spell that seemed to work on everyone-except for you. It doesn’t matter they’ll do anything to get your love- because it belongs to them not that creator-they deserve that destiny
6. Not a genshin nor sagau thingy but what if a genshin archon reader accidentally falls asleep(can be any element you want but I chosen dendro for this) and wakes up thousands of years later where teyvat has become nothing but an empty shell, eventually you get picked up by the astral express after wandering the empty planet. you adventure all the new worlds, help the trailblazer while ignoring their weirdness, and find a way to mourn all your lost comrades. It’s discovered that elemental energy had mixed and muddled with each other eventually forming into something more murky and hallow which made the Aeons, you discover this when they start to hunt you down as there obsessed with you and the idea that your the last ‘pure’ being in the universe, something they want to obtain.
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ikea09 · 2 days
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The palace walls, stained with red.
108 corpses, thrown about like dolls.
It made telemachus sick.
He shuddered looking at them,his eyes wide with horror, his face stained like the walls.
These were people, aweful people yes , but still people, and he and this unknown man and athena had chopped them down like their lives meant nothing.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
The archer that had helped him with this slaughter gave him an unreadable expression
Telemachus could practically hear his thoughts.
"No mercy" "why bother with pity?" "Stop being such a child"
He attempted to school the horror out of his face.
The stranger moved his hand to wipe some tears Telemachus didn't know were there.
"Greive and weep as much as you need but don't let it make you forget why this was nessasary."
"W-what?"
"This was a disgusting event. Disgust is the natural reaction. Don't blame yourself for it but don't regret this either nor hate yourself for you know what these men were planning. "
Telemachus paused.
The stranger was right.
But his philosophy was strange.
No demands of dropping his emotions or yells or anything but empathetic truth.
"I'm glad you don't take pleasure in this,"
The stranger continued, "it indicates your love of life and that is valuable"
"I see" Huh, this was new.
"People who have no love of life kill without nessity. That is no way to live.you would only make enemies."
Telemachus considered this. He found he agreed.
A small owl fluttered down from the roof and morphed into Athena.
"Shall we clean up then. Imagine how mad Penelope would be if she saw what you wrought.
Her little quip earned her chuckles from both men.
She waved a golden wand. The corpses and blood disappeared. The hall looked like nothing happened.
Athena tapped both men with her wand, removing all the blood and sweat from them too.
Curiously, she went to tap the stranger again.
When she did, His face changed,
Changed into a man that had Telemachus nose and eyes yet he seemed older and grayer.......
"Father?"
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aplaceinme · 2 days
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[This is based on the tags I put in this post. I wanted to expand on them]
I was thinking about… what if Buck and Tommy had another thing slightly in common?
Imagine if Tommy had an older brother and he was the younger. That brother was the pride and joy of their father., he could do no wrong in his eyes. 
Tommy admired him and wished to be like him for most of his life. Maybe then his father would hug him, would give him a pat in the back when he accomplished something at school. Perhaps then he could feel his father’s love.
Therefore, when his brother joined the army, Tommy decided to follow in his footsteps. For the first time, he thought he saw a glint of pride in his father’s eyes, and Tommy vowed to do incredibly well.
And he did just that. He became a pilot, a great one at that, but things didn’t turn out well.
After his brother was killed in action overseas, Tommy returned home, to a father who resented him for being alive. A father who wished he had died instead of his other son.
Feeling broken and not knowing what to do with himself, Tommy searched for something that could give him meaning. He became a firefighter, wanting to save people's lives since he couldn’t save his brother. 
And he was so eager and he had a deep need to make someone proud, that he latched on to his captain, Gerrard. He did and said what he was supposed to, hoping for a pat in the back, for a ‘you did well, son’. 
He knew Gerrard was as bas as his father, but he couldn’t seem to let go of it all. 
Thankfully, he eventually did. He co-signed the complaint against Gerrard and turned his back to him. Now, there was only one person left.
Feeling a bit confident because of Hen, and the new 118 in the hands of Bobby, Tommy finally came out to his father, even knowing that it wasn’t going to go well. But he was finally able to confess this secret that he had kept hidden for years
His father was disgusted by him and even told him that if his brother had been alive, he would be disgusted with him as well. 
That was the last time Tommy ever saw and spoke with his father. 
After that, little by little, Tommy started to accept himself. He came out to his co-workers at the 217 and then to the ones in Harbor. He started going on dates without looking over his shoulder to see if anyone recognized him. He started to be happy.
And then one day, he met Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley, who completely lighted up his life.
Buck was adorable and someone who he could open up with without being afraid of being judged. That’s how, one night, when they were both lying down in bed, their heads underneath the sheets, Buck with a voice so soft he was almost whispering, told him about Daniel. And Tommy, in turn, told him about his brother. They both comforted one another. Tommy told Buck that it wasn’t his fault and that he was so, so glad that he had been born because he couldn’t picture a life where Buck didn’t exist. And Buck told him that he was always so proud of Tommy, proud of who Tommy was, and that it was absolutely impossible not to love him.
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reaper-in-reverie · 3 days
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—come, stay a while.
(though it's not nice to see a familiar face.)
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preview.
Wrinkles settling in his forehead with his eyebrows knitted together, a deep, skeptical frown upon his lips as he scanned his reflection, a sense of dread filling him at the familiarity of it.
Oh god, he looked just like him.
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synopsis. kaiser, and how his change doesn't seem to change much at all. angst. character interpretation.
warnings. derealization. typical kaiser backstory implications - abuse, neglect, etc. alcohol/alcoholism mentioned. blood but only very little. 1k words. not proofread.
notes. ooc definitely lol. i think it's a bit too melancholy but i don't plan on fixing it. I am projecting so hard. the hyperspecific details are actually references to me :3
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He could physically feel himself get worse on more stressful days.
The dull bathroom light illuminated the mirror as Kaiser stared into it. He brushed his blond locks from his face, scanning his own features; the stress of the day etched into them, the natural gleam of attractiveness in his eyes.
He'd accepted a long time ago his life was but a reflection of people before him.
In the mirror, in puddles of rain, in the words of people around him — "you look just like your mother!" It used to sting, the reminder of a mother who looked exactly like him yet he never knew; never loved him as a mother should. First there was anger, spreading over his whole being like a wildfire — why compare him to such a coward, run from home and left her blood behind?
He hated it, disowned it like his mother did him; he hated his blue eyes, which seemed to naturally have a charming gleam in them; he hated his blond hair, which seemed so naturally beautiful he had to make an effort to keep it shaggy, to try to keep him as different from his mother.
The acceptance took years to settle. Eventually he'd come to live with the fact that his reflection was the only thing his mother had left for him to keep. He'd come to find comfort in this fact — somewhere in his blood he was both blessed and tainted with memories of his mom. Truly, engraved within his blood and soul, he still belonged to something. Almost comfortingly, he belonged to his mother. But he did not know his mother. She had no arms to hold him, no voice to guide him; just a face, haunting him in every reflective surface.
Kaiser would stare into the bathroom mirror and not see himself.
Now Kaiser would stare into the bathroom mirror and expect to his mother.
He brushed his blond hair falling into his blue eyes again, in search for something to belong to.
This time, there was something else.
Wrinkles settling in his forehead with his eyebrows knitted together, a deep, skeptical frown upon his lips as he scanned his reflection, a sense of dread filling him at the familiarity of it.
Oh god, he looked just like him.
For the first time, Kaiser felt the intense urge to cover his face. He winced at himself, looking into his own eyes with extreme disgust and judgment, his own expression reminding him of someone else. Why would his father make an appearance now? He'd just never thought he'd find himself looking like...
He tried looking himself in the mirror again, brushing some of his bangs out of his hair. Some pathetic part of him searched for his mother in the reflection, yearned for her care the same way he had when he was younger. And still, like before, there was no one who came to his side. He couldn't unsee it.
He took a sharp breath in, rubbing his eyes long enough until he had splotches of black in his vision. Kaiser looked himself in the mirror again—
And still, his father was there. Silently staring from the mirror in judgment.
Suddenly Kaiser was ten again. When he looked up to the low ceiling, there were splashes of milk stretching out from above his bed up to the corner of the room, painting the ceiling with stars. The pads of his tiny fingers were bleeding from trying to open a can of tuna. The familiar scent of alcohol filled his nostrils — his father was drunk in the living room — but he didn't move from his bed to ask his father for bandages. He did not move to ask his father to open the can himself.
His bedroom walls slowly rotted away, cracks in the corners, the paint peeling off. It didn't take much to notice how many things were in bad condition; entering the house itself had the doors creaking, hell, even the door to his own rotting bedroom creaked loudly when opened.
But Kaiser did not ask his father to get the walls fixed. He did not ask his father to oil his doors' hinges. He did not ask his father for anything. Excluding maybe all the times he'd beg not to be hit...
But he did not ask his father for anything.
And to think that but a child was soaking up such an environment. A polished and unassuming to-be-copy as it sat in the corner of the room. All he could do was reflect what he hungrily absorbed.
That's enough. Kaiser turned away from the mirror, hastily shutting off his bathroom lights. He didn't want to keep seeing his father in himself. He didn't want to see at all.
He walked into the connecting room, leaving the bathroom door open and grabbing a glass to fill with water. He swallowed with fervor, a dizzying feeling of misplaced yet familiar paranoia washing over him in waves.
He had to remind himself he wasn't ten anymore. There weren't any more rotting walls and no more drunk fathers in the living room.
So what was scaring him?
No, what was scaring him more: that it still felt as if his father was here, looming over his every move and judging his every mistake; or that he was the one bringing his father into his own life, in his own actions and in his very reflection.
That somewhere deep down, down to the very nature of his soul, he was bound by blood to a monster.
That somewhere deep down, he belonged to something.
Kaiser glanced towards the rest of his home now. A small apartment. He didn't even live in Germany anymore. Still, he felt he was carrying some part of himself with it. Eerily, it was like nothing had even changed.
Some of the paint on the walls were peeling. He placed the glass of water down to nervously rub the pads of his fingers together. He noticed the bathroom door was still open. Crossing the room to get his hand on the handle, he took one last glance at the mirror. It was dark in the bathroom. He couldn't see himself. He pulled the door closed.
The door creaked loudly shut.
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cotton-could · 2 days
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The depth of the Beetles brothers
My favourite sibling relationship in KND is definitely the Beetles brothers and I feel like they don't get the recognation they deserve, they're very adorable and is by far the most healthy sibling relationship but it does have some interesting aspects. Lemme break it down:
🍼; Wally had to step in to parent Joey
I find it interesting how the normally irresponsable Wally is suddenly the most responsible boy when his brother is concerned, almost like he's fulfilling the role his parents failed to fulfill. Wally's parents are oblivious at best and painfully irresponsible as seen in the D.O.D.G.E.B.A.L.L episode, where both parents doesn't even react to a grown and elderly wizard attacking their baby, they don't even get mad at him. I know it's "haha adults are being dumb and useless 😂" but this doesn't paint them in a good light since Joey needs someomeone to rely on and clearly he can't rely on his parents (I'll talk about it later), Wally on the other hand, he protects him, scolds him, looks after him and raise him, despite being the eldest brother, he acts more like a stern but loving father than a brother. The guy went berserk when he thought his baby brother was hurt, a clear contrast to their parents' reactions when Joey was in real danger. Wally became the "adult" Joey needed at such a young age...
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✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🧸; Wally is Joey's comfort and safe source
What I find most endearing in their relationship is that Wally of all people is Joey's source of comfort. He knows how to take care of himself as seen in D.O.D.G.E.B.A.L.L but this trait is apparently forgotten because in S.A.F.E.T.Y he doesn't use his dodgeball skills but actually, the trait wasn't forgotten, it's because he feels safe and protected with Wally. Remember his brother was knocked out when he was fighting against the wizard while his parents did nothing but in S.A.F.E.T.Y he didn't even tried to crawl away from danger, he's either paralyzed or searching/waiting for his brother but after seeing his older brother, he's cheerful and smiling again.
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So when his source of comfort is shattered (when Wally gets mad at him), he just crawls away from him while crying and refuses to hear his apology. And this is despite the fact that Joey has seen his mom get mad (who's scarier than his brother when angered) at Wally and didn't cried. And this makes sense because his mom isn't his source of comfort like Wally.
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Joey probably considers Wally his best friend, as he's always there for him when he needs it and gets to be vulnerable.
✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🍬; Their parents' irresponsability are what makes their bond strong
Similar to the previous point but now more focused on the parents. They're trying, their dad works 2-3 jobs and the mom is a housewife but.... they're very irresponsable. They let a baby fight a wizard (I know they were tied but they didn't even tried to break free or telling the wizard to back off) and let a baby wander around all alone without bothering to look after him. It's one thing to be busy and to try but it's another to leave a baby who's at oldest a year old, see his brother without thinking of the possibilities he might get run over, kidnapped, get lost, crushed, etc... Yes, he knows how to defend himself but he's still a naïve baby, this would make Joey finding safety in Wally more understandable.
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✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🥧; He brings the best side in Wally
It's undeniable Wally is a good person but he always does his hardest to keep his sweeter side hidden, even with Kuki, so when it comes to apologizing.... He pretty much needs to go through painful experiences or get his pride in shambles to do it but with Joey it's a different case. He's not only openly affectionate with him (when he always avoid to do it with his friends and sometimes acts disgusted when he receives affection) but he genuinely apologizes to Joey in front of his friend/ally and the villain, he shows vulnerability in an environment he knows his pride would be destroyed and taken advantage by the villain of the episode but he doesn't care because his brother comes first. He calls Hoagie out when he asked Joey to dance, whispering him he's doing it because he wanted to be nice. Wally is not the nicest kid and it speaks volume of how much he cares about his brother's feelings when he wants to show his softer side.
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And let's not forget how he spent the whole episode using his own body as a shield for Joey, not caring about the competition he's been trying to win because his baby brother is hurt, etc... When Joey is in the picture, Wally drops all his foolishness and becomes serious and responsable.
✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🍟; Wally's parental role is taking a toll on him
It wasn't really focused on the show but from what we saw, it can be assumed he's also playing a fatherly role to Joey but... in the scenes he was shown crying, he takes it a bit too far, he's reacting how Joey should be (the cut was fake but still) and has a meltdown after destroying the robot because his brother is hurt but he reacts more like he failed Joey.
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And I get him, because in the whole episode he was a jerk to him, made him cry, Joey didn't really accepted his apology, he indirectly caused Joey's "cut" and is bleeding. None of it were positive interactions at all and it kept getting worse, even if he protects him, it feels like it's not enough. If it weren't for Hoagie, Wally wouldn't even forgive himself at all and would think he's a failure of a brother because he couldn't prevent his little brother from getting hurt.
✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🧃; Wally's hidden jealousy
This one isn't that big of a story but it's still interesting. While he has a positive relationship with Joey, it's implied he's jealous of him and we can see that in S.A.F.E.T.Y when Joey unintentionally stole the spotlight from him, telling him to go home and eventually snaps at him.
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And in D.O.D.G.E.BA.L.L he might be secretly in denial about not really defeating the wizard but Joey. When Hoagie tries to inform him, he immediately refuses to hear him because deep down he knows Joey did it.
✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🍭; In spite of this, Joey does admire Wally and is his hero
In a blink-or-miss moment, Wally does his silly dance before preparing himself and in the next few scenes, Joey is seen the make the same dumb dance as Wally for the whole episode (which Wally is completely unaware of).
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Joey's reason to be here in the first place is because he wanted to see his brother in action and to root for him. He does have/mimick some of Wally's habits such as being a great fighter, being aggressive to enemies he can take down, being bored of his dad's stories and the silly dance.
✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
🍊; Wally is actually the father figure Joey needed
They may bicker and stuff but it's clear they love each other. With their parents being irresponsable and Joey not having an adult to rely on, Wally is the closest thing he has to a father figure. He's not the perfect one because of his anger issues but considering his age, it's justified but despite that, Wally is a good influence and presence in Joey's life. Wally takes great care of him and is always gentle when handling him even when he's mad at him (like carefully putting him on the floor instead of dropping him on the floor). Yes, Wally can be very harsh on him but it was mostly out of love, anger and concern (he could've been more tactful about it but his anger was understandable). And Wally has more emotional responsability than most adults in KND as he apologizes to Joey and makes up for his harsh behavior with hugs protecting him from danger. And his actions are what made Joey forgive him, he rejected his apology but after seeing how Wally will put himself at risk so he can be safe was what made him realize that Wally does care about him even when he gets mad at him.
It can be unfair for Wally to fulfill such a heavy role at such a young age but it's clear he doesn't regret it and knows no one else would look after him. He never took it out on Joey and this shows the maturity Wally has.
✿ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆ ⋆。 ゚ ☁︎。⋆。 ゚ ☾ ゚ 。⋆✿
Hope you guys liked my post about them, those 2 makes me so ill, I love those sillies so much! If anybody makes content of them or Joey content, please tag me, I'm a huge Beetles Brothers and Joey enjoyer.
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