#the crazy thing is like he wants me to leave so badly but they purposely find ways to keep me in the house with them

[warm-mangoes-with-chai]

My dad: you'll be nothing without me! I'll leave all you kids behind and never speak to you again! I don't need anyone, I'm smarter than you all! No one can compare to me!

Me: i mean ig because your two adult children from two separate mothers respectively and their families also don't vibe with you and only regularly started speaking to you recently right? Because you're too much of a coward and self-centered man to keep in touch with them right?

Him:........ *Walks off and locks his door*

[papercorgiworld]

Boyfriend material

Reader is starting the new year in search of a little fun and a boyfriend. Pansy helps here pick the right outfit and guy.

For Blaise, Theo and Mattheo this will be a two part ‘porn with plot’ thing. This is part one and holds the plot. No Enzo part two, because apparently I can only write so much smut before my brain goes brrrr. Sorry.

I added a part 2 for Enzo!

Warning: reader has a little dirty make out daydream. Slytherin dudes have some naughty thoughts as well.

I had fun writing this. I really hope you like reading it. Kisses.

“New year, new me. I’m no longer a boring girl. I’m going to find myself a nice, good looking guy and get crazy with him.” You started as you sat down next to Hermoine. She laughed in response. “You don’t need a guy to have fun or to be cool.” But before you could say anything Pansy plopped down next to you. “Yes, you do, so who’s the lucky guy?” Hermoine rolled her eyes.

You looked around the great hall and settled on a handsome sixth year. “Him.” You tilted your face his way, subtly pointing. “Ew! No! Boring!” Pansy spat. “What’s wrong with that guy?” Hermoine asked, narrowing her eyes at Pansy. “You wanna be popular, you wanna have fun, you gotta date someone on top of the food chain.” Pansy said as a matter of fact and Hermoine mocked the last words of her sentence.

You ignored the tension completely and simply asked. “Who’s on top of the food chain?” Pansy looked around to search for a good example. “Aha!” She said pleased, when she saw who just walked in and grinned at the girls next to her. “Oh no.” Hermoine sighed as she saw a particular group of Slytherins enter the great hall. You simply pursed your lips at the idea. But you brought yourself back to reality. “How’s a gray mouse like me gonna date the top of the food chain?” Pansy simply wiggled her eyebrows and Hermoine was definitely worried now.

***

The next day you made your way to sit next to Hermoine in class. With your skirt short enough to make you question its purpose and your shirt tight and revealing, you now had all the guys paying attention. “What’s this?” Hermoine questioned, obviously referring to your outfit. “This. This is my battle-outfit. I’m conquering the top of the food chain.” You replied with confidence. Hermoine scoffed and raised an eyebrow. “Then why is the top of the food chain looking at you like you're their next meal.”

You quickly glanced around the classroom, getting a little nervous, you softly bit your lip. You want to defend your case to Hermoine, but accidentally drop your quill. As you reach for it, Enzo beats you to it. Handing it to you with a sweet smile, but also giving you a cheeky wink.

Theodore, who sits next to Enzo, shakes his head and huffs. “Don’t fall for it. Pansy’s clearly up to something.” Enzo smiles brightly at his friend. “Oh mate, I’ve already fallen. Badly, madly. And it’s okay, you can leave your fallen brother behind. He’s going to a better place, somewhere between her squishy thighs.” Mattheo who sits behind Theodore speaks up. “Oi, T. slap him for me, will ya?” And before Enzo even realizes what Mattheo said, Theo has already given him a light smack on the back of his head. Blaise bites his lip and comes to Enzo’s aid. “In his defense, look at those legs.” Slurring the last word and leaning closer to Mattheo, his eyes never leaving your body. Mattheo pushes his chair a little and leans back for a better view of what his friend is talking about. Mattheo is definitely seeing something he likes, his eyes scan your body. His tongue gently rolls over his lips and he swallows hard thinking about all the noises you would make if he could have his way with you. “Mister Zabini, mister Riddle, care to explain why you don’t have your books out yet.” Professor McGonnagol asks, looking down upon the boys. “Sorry professor.” Blaise immediately reaches for his book, while Mattheo only looks down at his desk like a pouty 5 year old that just got caught.

After class Theodore lets out a frustrated grown as you walk past them in the hallway. You did nothing aside from sitting there and being pretty, yet you had him fantasizing about things that made him loosen his tie halfway during class. “I should’ve skipped class. I wrote down less than when I’m not in class.” Enzo looked confused at Theo’s statement, questioning his logic. Mattheo was about to say something, but Blaise interrupted him. “That simp! Look at him.” Blaise pointed at Draco shamelessly leaning against a wall trying to casually make conversation with you as Pansy tries not to laugh at Draco’s desperation. “No backbone, those Malfoy’s.” Mattheo scoffs. “Yeaah.” Blaise affirms absentmindedly, staring at you as you smile at Draco. Such a beautiful smile, but I bet that mouth can do more than just smile. Blaise was smirking as his thoughts got less innocent with each passing second. “We should save the poor girl.” Enzo states, pulling Blaise out his trance. “Yeah.” Blaise and Enzo quickly make their way over to you. Making Pansy grin at Mattheo and Theodore. Raising her eyebrows as a way of non-verbally taunting them: are you two really gonna just stand there with your pathetic male pride. “Tell me you have smokes. I need one.” Mattheo sighs in frustration after he finally managed to pull his eyes away from you. Theo nods. “Girls and their games. They’ll be the death of me.” Theo can’t help but take one last look at you.

***

“Pans, I really don’t think this is a good idea. Hermoine’s right I’m attracting the wrong kind of guys.” Pansy eyes roll up in annoyance. That bloody Granger-girl can squeeze the fun out of everything. “You can set them straight. Believe me, if you bat your eyes they will start behaving.” You make a face disagreeing with her. “I’m looking for fun, yeah, but I’m also looking for boyfriend material, they’re not that.” Pansy huffs. “You know nothing.” You frown in confusion. “Just play my game. You’ll get what you want.” Pansy starts walking again, but then turns on her heels looking at you still confused. “You are gonna have to pick one, preferably by tonight. I would hate to see the Slytherin boy band break up, because I really don’t think they can share.” You bite your lip softly and your mind wonders.

If Pansy was really speaking the truth and you could just have your pick. Which one? Him. If he would push you against this cold hallway wall right now you would immediately spread your legs so he could lift you up. Your neck and your jaw would be peppered with his soft kisses. You would wrap your legs around him and he would buck his hips into yours. Your mouth would fall open slightly because of all the sensations building up between your legs. He would mercilessly attack your mouth and his hands would explore every inch of your body. Squeezing your butt, making you instinctively rub your core against his growing bulge. He would cup your breasts, his thumb caressing your nipple through the fabric. “Everything alright?” Luna snaps you out of your wonderful train of thoughts. You look at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I better get going. Class, and stuff.” You push your thighs together, before fully letting go of your daydream. “I have those moments too you know, when I forget about reality.” Luna comforts you as you both walk to class. “Uhu” Is all you manage to say, not really knowing what to think.

If Blaise is you’re guy: part 2

***

“Your party outfit is a shirt?” Hermoine asks, not hiding her judgment. “It’s an oversized shirt, which makes it a dress. It’s fashion, Granger, get over it.” Pansy snaps. “You’re corrupting my friend.” Hermoine hisses at Pansy. “Oh, darling. I’m not corrupting. But some guy might.” Pansy winks, Hermoine’s mouth falls open and you stand there sheepishly looking at your feet. “I’m wearing shorts under this dress. So it’s really not that bad.” You finally manage to say. “Alright, let’s party.” Pansy says and she’s the first to walk through the doors of the room of requirement.

For Mattheo: part 2

For Theodore: part 2

For Lorenzo: part 2

[aliteralsemicolon]

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend. 

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only.  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk. 

Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers. 

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it. 

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you. 

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored. 

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue. 

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today. 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful. 

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra. 

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe. 

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state. 

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror. 

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought. 

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”,  you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little. 

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around. 

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had. 

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen. 

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?” 

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?” 

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.” 

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?” 

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive. 

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone. 

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM. 

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything. 

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could. 

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him. 

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours. 

“Emily!” 

“Hey, how are you holding up?” 

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?” 

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue. 

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise. 

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself. 

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?” 

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that. 

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head! … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?” 

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place. 

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.” 

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off. 

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now. 

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?” 

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.” 

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out. 

���Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?” 

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay. 

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon. 

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say. 

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided. 

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too. 

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?” 

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself. 

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern. 

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it. 

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?” 

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.” 

“Are you sure?” Emily asks. 

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason. 

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again. 

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?” 

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time. 

“I’m not.” You persist. 

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you. 

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.” 

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.” 

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.” 

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her. 

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark. 

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush. 

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay. 

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back. 

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.” 

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back. 

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice. 

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy. 

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes. 

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.” 

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around. 

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.” 

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start. 

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events. 

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer. 

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling. 

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly. 

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears. 

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand. 

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing. 

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to. 

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times. 

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second. 

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.” 

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other. 

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

[cultrise]

oh my god, give me lovesick hobie brown.

lovesick hobie who cannot for the life of him keep his eyes away from you. and he won’t. he’s going to enter a room or speak to someone at HQ and see you in the distance and completely lose focus. his world just suddenly stops and his gaze remains glued to you until the person ‘bothering’ him leaves uncomfortably.

lovesick hobie who does not even perceive the idea of not touching you. even if you’re sitting at the restaurant somewhere with your friends he needs to touch you. thighs pressed against each other under the table, arm around your shoulders, interlocked pinkies — anything so he can feel you close to him. he needs to feel your body heat otherwise he’ll go crazy.

lovesick hobie who comes home almost everyday saying “this reminded me of you” and hands you something he made, bought from some street vendor or stole for you. it’s anything from clothes to little accessories to food. he just loves showering you with gifts and the happy smile on your face when you get handed one, the soft, gentle kisses he receives as a ‘thank you’ afterwards.

lovesick hobie who will make sure his arms are tightly wrapped around your waist in the morning so you can’t escape his embrace. he hates waking up early and he loathes to see you leave bed. he wants to wake up next to you, maybe spend the whole day in bed if possible. he needs his cuddles so badly.

lovesick hobie who watches you talk, head leaning to one side as he has a huge smile on his face. and he just can’t help himself to kiss you mid sentence. “do i bore you?” you ask with a smile as he pulls away, smiling as he caresses your cheek “no. just felt like it” he says before continuing to listen to you talk to him about whatever crosses your mind. he interrupts you many times more. don’t blame him, your lips are just too inviting for him to say no.

lovesick hobie who would sometimes get purposely more injured during fights just to feel your hands gently caress his wounds as you patched him up. you knew he did it on purpose. you scolded him about it many times. he never listened. his eyes just stayed fixated on your lips as you yelled at him before shutting you up quickly with a needy kiss. “you need to stop doing this!” you hit his chest annoyed after pulling away from him. he smiles, pressing his forehead to yours “i know. ‘m sorry. won’ happen again”. it does happen again.

lovesick hobie who denies being obsessed with you in front of others to keep his cool demeanour but is contradicted the moment you step into the room. like the time he was talking to gwen, miles & pav about how you were the one obsessed with him in reality. and you walked in, said hi to all of them and pressed a kiss on hobie’s cheek before attempting to walk away. and he just used his webs to drag you into his arms, muttering an audible “don’t go” to you before nuzzling his face into your neck. oh yeah, everybody and their mom knew hobie was not only obsessed, but extremely needy for you. he stopped contradicting pav after that encounter.

lovesick hobie who loves nothing more than mornings waking up next to you, the first thing that hits his nose being your sweet smell. you calm him down. he just wants to wake you up with tender kisses as you groan in annoyance. he doesn’t mind. he just runs his hand through your hair, whispering ‘good morning’ in your ear before pulling you into a lazy, sleepy kiss.

lovesick hobie who writes songs for you because you’re always on his mind. except they never have lyrics. he’s kinda bad at words. so he uses chords to express how he feels about you instead. he’d just sit you down, saying he has something you need to listen to. and he tries to play it off as cool, but he gets so flustered and excited it doesn’t work. and you can tell by the way he plays and by the way he avoids your gaze with rosy cheeks that he’s strumming from his heart. your feedback is lots of loving kisses.

i need lovesick hobie. he’s so stupidly adorable.

© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.

[heewoonie]

𝓙𝓔𝓐𝓛𝓞𝓤𝓢 - Park Sunghoon

pairing : jealous!sunghoon x reader

warnings : smut, unprotected sex, choking, 📷, dacryphilia, creampie (lmk if i missed any)

this is my first fanfic + i'm not fluent in english so please don't be harsh on me!! 💙

Sunghoon was the type to be jealous over anything. Talking with some boy other than him was enough to put him over the edge and you knew it damn well. The way he looked at you and that random guy who casually asked for your number because he thought that you're single. How wrong he was... Well, you decided to give him that damn phone number simply because you wanted to tease your boyfriend a little bit. When sunghoon saw you passing your phone to him that's when he felt like he was going to kill you.

When you both arrived at home the first thing that he did was kissing you agrressively until you couldn't breathe.

"You think you're funny? Giving him your number in front of me? God, you're such a slut actually." Sunghoon said as he started marking your neck purposely leaving hickeys to show everyone who you belong to.

"No, it's not like that" You tried to explain but the boy didn't let you as he shoved his two fingers in your mouth making you gag.

"I saw what i saw, I'm not dumb Y/N"

As soon as those words left his mouth he carried you through the bedroom and pushed you on the bed

"If you wanted my attention so badly you could have just said that"

In the blink of an eye all your clothes were gone leaving you on expose for him.

"There's no need to be easy on you right?"

You didn't respond. It was so obvious, he was jealous as hell.

"So now you're quiet." He said as he pushed his whole length inside you and immediately started thrusting making you scream since you didn't have time to adjust to him.

Moans were coming out of your mouth like crazy. It hurted but something about Sunghoon and the whole situation that you were in made you almost beg for more

His thrust were rough and fast, Sunghoon basically wanted to fuck his anger out by using you

"Yeah, you like that huh? Being fucked by my cock? Is that what you wanted since the beginning?"

He grabbed your neck and started choking you. The sudden action made you cry from overstimulation. The lewd noises coming from pounding your hole were getting louder and louder.

Suddenly Sunghoon pulled out of you and grabbed your phone which was next to the bed. You looked at him confused. Why did he stop? Just a second ago he was fucking your brain out and now he stops?

"How about we show that guy who do you belong to huh?"

"What do you-" You couldn't finish the sentence as he started pounding into you once again making you a moaning mess. As you were getting closer to your orgasm you heard a familiar voice coming through the phone. Oh Fuck. It was that guy who asked for your number today.

"You know who that is?" He didn't stop fucking you as he was asking you that. Of course you knew!

"H-hang up!" You moaned feeling your walls clenching at his length.

He did listen to you tho thinking that hearing you both fuck would be enough to let him know to give up.

"I'm close baby" Sunghoon moaned as he cummed into your walls. Soon you got off too with no energy left.

It took you a while to actually understand what happened. You looked at Sunghoon but all you could find on his face was a grin.

"You know I'm jealous when i see you with other guys."

[vrisrezis]

OMG I REALLY LIKE UR YAN GETO HC!! It's quite rare seeing sub yan fic these days... And if u don't mind, may I rq yan Gojo hc? (No pressure tho)

Have a nice day/night!

Thank u! And yes ! I’m such a fan of subby yanderes . Makes me sad there aren’t more :((

Here’s some Yan gojo for the soul

College au? Normal Yandere stuff, gojo is possessive and very bratty and subby! umm lotsa nsfw in this one, mentions of choking, gojo is very masochistic but still very loving, kind mentions of gojo getting beaten up but … yea

Yan! Gojo who notices you the moment you step into those door of the classroom, and he makes himself your never ending curse ever since

Yan! Gojo who is convinced you must love him, since he’s irresistible. Why wouldn’t you love him? The object of his affections has taste, after all.

Yan! Gojo who thinks you’re playing hard to get when you say you aren’t interested. There’s no need to be shy! He’s not going anywhere.

Yan! Gojo who’s delusional enough to think you’re dating simply because you looked at him a second too long.

Yan! Gojo who sees himself as the only one worthy to be in your presence. Everyone else doesn’t matter.

Yan! Gojo who loves to compliment you, but expects the same back. Otherwise he gets mad at you. However, if you ask why he’s mad he claims he’s fine ! There’s nothing wrong! But he’s silently brooding at the fact you didn’t compliment him back.

In the same breath Yan! Gojo who gets mad when you don’t notice slight changes in his appearance such as a different shampoo he’s using. He did it just for you! How could you not notice?

Yan! Gojo who insists you kiss him whenever you talk to that stupid bitch that keeps grabbing your hand.

Yan! Gojo who’s completely unashamed in how badly he wants you, and tells you as such.

Yan! Gojo who can’t get off unless you’re inside of him (whether that be your dick in him or his dick in u lol)

Yan! Gojo who wants you to pull his hair and completely wreck him. He knows he can be a overconfident brat, please put him in his place!

Because for as much as he’s the only right one for you, you’re the only right one for him. The only one that can put him in his place.

Yan! Gojo who ends up threatening your friends to leave you alone, you’re his.

Yan! Gojo who acts over confident as per usual, he’s confident in your relationship but he still gets really jealous of everyone around him.

Yan! Gojo who’s really possessive and protective of you, truly acts like your classic crazy girlfriend.

Yan! Gojo who screams at you when you talk to other people and make him jealous “on purpose”

But even after those fights, he comes back to you as if nothing ever happened an hour later, giving you the softest look and the sweetest kisses.

Yan! Gojo who gets mad at you a lot but also forgets the things that you do that make him mad… a lot.

Yan! Gojo who gets very jealous easily. Insists you fuck him to make him forget about it.

Yan! Gojo who gets clingy when he’s jealous, and starts being openly perverted and sexual as a result of his jealousness.

Yan! Gojo who likes when you choke him when you’re fucking

Yan! Gojo who looks at you with such adoration in his eyes, to him you are perfection. He loves every single part of you, because that’s what it means to love someone. Even when you piss him off, he loves every inch of you.

Yan! Gojo who insists you put him in his place constantly, please beat him up. You’re the only one that is capable of beating him up. The only one capable of touching him, he wants to constantly be reminded of how you own him.

Yan! Gojo who just wants you to use and abuse him.

Yan! Gojo who wants you to make him cry and embarrass him, he does not care about anyone else. He doesn’t care about his reputation or the people that worry about him, he wants you to wreck him beyond repair.

Yan! Gojo who just wants to be your toy, and never feels insecure about it cause he’s so convinced he’s your world, just like you’re his.

Yan! Gojo who likes taking you out on dates, he’s surprisingly romantic for being such a menace to society

Yan! Gojo who is actually very sappy despite how crazy he can be

Yan! Gojo who doesn’t try to resort to killing people but absolutely will and will feel nothing upon doing it, they have to be really persistent on talking to you.

Yan! Gojo who tricks you into thinking your friends and family dont love you and even if they did, who cares about them?

Yan! Gojo who wants to be the only one in your life, won’t understand why you don’t just ditch everyone else already.

Yan! Gojo who loves being your toy, but he also loves being your good little pretty boy.

Yan! Gojo who wants you to slap and step on his dick

Yan! Gojo who tells you how much he loves and adores you everyday

Yan! Gojo who’s so clingy it’s overwhelming

Yan! Gojo who loves you so intensely it becomes completely overbearing

Yan! Gojo who likes giving you little kisses on your neck

Yan! Gojo who lets out the cutest giggles when you do something he thinks is cute.

Yan! Gojo who laughs like a highschool girl when you make a joke

Yan! Gojo who constantly gives you literal heart eyes

Yan! Gojo who blushes when you call him pretty

Yan! Gojo who’s into you feminizing him. Call him your pretty girl.

Yan! Gojo who likes being carried by you even if he’s a lot bigger than you

Yan! Gojo who loves being kissed on the neck, he blushes like crazy

Yan! Gojo who likes being called princess

Yan! Gojo who loves you so much and tells you constantly

Yan! Gojo who’s very demanding in your relationship and isn’t exactly aware of the fact, but he loves you and would protect you. He’s the only one that deserves you. Please don’t throw him away!

[makeyoumine69]

Congrats on the 1k of followers! You're so talented, I love your work and you deserve so much!

I would like to ask prompt 4 from the new list, maybe something we're we have been very bad for patrick the whole day, trying to get his attention? And he just gets so disappointed that he will have to punish us?

But this is just a vague thought, I would love to see your work and style on this prompt. 💖

Being stuck in an elevator with horny Patrick

— A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for your request, I hope you like it!🖤

— WORDS: 1.1k

— [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [1k CELEBRATION MASTERLIST] 🪓 [tip] 💗

That day at Pierce & Pierce was crazy, there were so many things to do and on top of that Patrick decided to act like a total asshole, which was so typical of him, but still annoyed you nonetheless.

After a short break from all that ruckus, you found yourself stuck inside the crowded elevator, cursing under your breath because sometimes you really hated your job. When there were only a few floors left, the elevator doors opened, and you almost dropped the folder with your documents when you saw Bateman walk in. The way he was smirking didn't promise any good.

"Woah, what a surprise," Patrick chuckled, standing next to you at the back of the elevator. "How was your lunch with that jerk from sales?"

Frowning, you waited for the doors to close before you finally looked at him with a barely audible hiss: 

"It was fine," you clutched the folder and pressed it closer to your chest. "And how did your lunch go? Is that blonde bimbo happy?"

You said it a little louder on purpose, causing some of the yuppies to turn to check you out, but Patrick just smiled and subtly slipped a hand behind you after the guys looked away.

"Just for your information," he suddenly leaned down to your neck, put his hand on your back and whispered. "I had lunch alone."

The elevator stopped on your floor, but you didn't even notice, and neither did Bateman, because his full attention was on your seductive lips and your shapely breasts, which looked so damn good in that white blouse.

"You know what? I—" A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you felt his big palm under your skirt. How the hell did he manage to do that so stealthily? Thank God no one around had noticed it.

"You what?" Patrick continued, sliding his hand up your leg, almost reaching your panties.

"Stop…"

You flinched and tried to brush his hand away, but that only made him more aggressive, so now you had to stop yourself from moaning as he deftly cupped your pussy through the fabric of your underwear, which was slightly wet.

"(Y/n), you didn't answer," his cheeky voice and smile sent shivers down your spine. "It's pretty rude to ignore your boss."

Embarrassed, you tried to hide how affected you got by his touch, even though your hands were shaking pretty badly.

"Now you tell me that?" you hiccuped, nearly crumpling the folder when his fingers reached your sensitive little bud and gave it several light strokes. "You acted like I didn't even exist all day!"

As you tried to get away from him, you noticed that almost everyone had left, leaving you both alone on the elevator. Like a hawk, Bateman calculated your next move in advance, and before you could even reach the door, he blocked your way and pressed the "STOP" button on the control panel.

Breathing heavily, you looked at him in shock before asking:

“What the hell are you—”, was all you could say before Patrick pushed you against the elevator wall and kissed you as hard as he could.

It was getting so hot from the heat that his muscular body was radiating. Your folder fell to the floor with a thud, but neither of you gave a damn. All you could do was desperately run your hands down his broad back and kiss him back. Bateman wanted more, his hidden nature was overtaking him, and he was getting more and more savage. You squealed in surprise when he grabbed your ass and pulled up your skirt roughly.

"W-wait! Not here, please", even though your pathetic pleas made him titter, he stopped and looked down at you.

"Baby, you forgot who's in charge here," he growled and attacked your neck, leaving wet marks on it. "But I'll be happy to remind you."

A lewd sigh escaped your lips when his sharp canines sank into your soft skin, making your knees buckle slightly, and only his firm grip prevented you from falling.

"Now listen to me carefully, darling," he pressed a finger along your lips, watching your chest rise and fall so quickly that he couldn't help but grab one of your breasts, squeezing it until you whimpered. "I want you to stick your finger inside your tight little pussy," he grabbed your hand and placed it over your mound. "And let me taste it."

You gasped so loudly that you were afraid that the whole building heard it.

"C'mon, it's not a big deal," Patrick kept grinning, making you even more ashamed. "Don't be shy."

Damn it!

Your little mind was about to explode from the level of tension, especially when he pushed on your hand, forcing you to touch yourself to feel how fucking soaked you were. Closing your eyes, you spread your legs wider and only then did Bateman release you, watching your hand slip between your thighs, his brown eyes darkening as he heard the slick sound of your fingers slithering into your dripping cunt.

"Push them deeper," he insisted, exhaling noisily through his flushed nostrils. "To the knuckles."

Trembling, you had no choice but to obey. 

You could feel your heartbeat pounding against your ears as you pulled out your fingers, all covered in your juices, glistening in the light. Languidly, you brought your digits to his lips. He sucked them greedily, almost moaning, as if he had waited his whole life for this.

"Fuck, you're such a brat, but you taste so delicious… mmmhm," Patrick hummed, enjoying every second of his little sick game. "Gimme your panties, slut. I don't think you'll need them anyway."

You took a deep breath and blurted out defensively: "No!"

Bateman raised his eyebrows in surprise before giggling: "You want me to do it myself?"

The sudden voices from behind the elevator doors caught you both off guard, so you seized the moment and dashed forward to the control panel. But Bateman wouldn't be Bateman if he just let you do that, so he grabbed you by the waist and hugged you from behind.

"Okay, okay, little girl… have it your way. Just be prepared for the consequences."

With that, he slapped your ass with all his might, quickly ripping off your underwear with his fingers and hiding it in the pocket of his pants. His ferocity made you freeze, so you simply allowed him to get on with it.

Eventually, Patrick released you and you pulled down your skirt. He pushed the button that opened the doors, letting in the people, who seemed very irritated and confused about what the hell had happened to the elevator.

With a devilish smile on his haughty face, Bateman walked out and turned to give you a shameless wink before his perfectly formed silhouette vanished among a myriad of hurrying yuppies.

I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[aqualesha]

The Balladeer's Regret - Scaramouche x GN! Reader

character : Scaramouche

prompts : 19. “i can’t do this anymore” & 24. “just leave me alone”

summary : loving Scaramouche is hard, and you were aware of it. yet you never stopped loving him. his harsh words may sting, but you know deep down that he was a gentle soul and he never meant those things he said. you fell in love with Kunikuzushi, so gentle and fragile. if only he had noticed earlier how badly he had hurt you. he wanted to turn back time. but he knew that he couldn’t. he had lost everything because of his own foolishness.

- spoilers for Sumeru Archon Quest Act 2 & 3, pure angst/no-comfort, cursing, arguments, scara spitting harsh words, scara’s real name spoiler, scara’s past, not proofread

- word count : 1.8k

~ my entry for @versadies angstober writing collab - farewell, love

“Don’t leave me…”

“Please stay…”

“I didn’t mean all those things…"

These were the words that have been echoing inside his mind now. His mind was begging for him to drop his ego and call out to you, to stop you. He didn’t want you to leave him like the others. Not when he didn’t have anyone else but you.

How ironic of him, to feel distraught when you turned on your heels to walk out the door of your shared home. He recalled the poisonous words that spilled from his mouth, that were directed towards you. The look of hurt in your eyes and the way your expression faltered when he pushed you away and raised his tone at you. He didn’t mean anything that he said.

He swore that he could feel his non-existent heart shattering at the sight of your glistening tears cascading down your cheeks and your hushed whisper of “I’m sorry..” while you backed away from him. He could never forget how your voice trembled when you uttered the words that had Scaramouche breaking down right after.

“I still love you.”

He had taken your kindness for granted. You had always been with him even before he was known as Scaramouche. You had been with him since he was nothing but a broken puppet, Kunikuzushi. You accompanied him and lent your shoulder for him to cry on when you found him cornered by the darkness of Shakkei Pavilion. You saved him from his greatest suffering, which was loneliness and betrayal.

But the greatest pain was being betrayed by his own creator, his mother. The mother who was supposed to take care of her child with care. He never got to feel a mother’s love, for his mother replaced him with another puppet after taking notice that Kunikuzushi was too weak. He cried in his dreams, which showed his vulnerability and his fragility. A puppet that has emotions simply couldn’t be called a puppet, now can it?

Kunikuzushi had always been a gentle being, far from what his creator was expecting for a divine being, a god’s replacement. Yet, he couldn’t do anything as he was created with these human emotions. He swore to lock away all remaining emotions he had in himself so that he could grow stronger. He wanted to show his creator that he is not weak.

That was until he met you. Your existence in his life changed his objective and purpose. Even so, he still desired to claim the godhood he should’ve obtained if not for his stupid emotions getting in the way hundreds of years ago.

You had always loved him, no matter the circumstances. But you couldn’t fully agree with him when he decided to seek help from Il Dottore to achieve godhood. You knew how crazy it sounded and how far Dottore could go to achieve anything he desired. He was the 2nd Harbinger for Archon’s sake.

You weren’t against the idea of Scaramouche reaching divinity, but you were worried about his safety too. But you knew better than to interrupt their plans. You could get your head blown if you try to mess with Dottore, even when you two were quite well acquainted a few years ago when you were still in the Fatui. But that was long ago.

Ever since you both started living in Sumeru, you rarely ever see Scaramouche coming home. He’d either stay in his office or not come home at all for a few days. It was starting to make you worry. A puppet doesn’t need sleep, but he wasn’t completely a synthetic puppet. You had the right to make sure that he’d taken care of himself too.

The clock in your shared bedroom was ticking ever-so-slowly, making you sigh for the umpteenth time. “This can’t keep going on..” That was when you decided to have a talk with him once he really comes back.

You didn’t know how it turned out like this. It was supposed to be a simple talk regarding his absence and his goal to achieve divinity. That’s all. How naive of you to think that he’d apologize just like he always did. You really thought that you could simply convince him when you were talking about the only goal he tried so hard to achieve?

He was starting to think that you were doubting him and his capabilities. He was created to become a god, so why were you against it now? Didn’t you promise him to always be with him until he has fulfilled his goal to become a god? Are you betraying his trust now? How pathetic.

He was losing his temper. He knew that he couldn’t control his anger that well. The way you worded it made him realize that all humans are the same. They can’t be trusted. “Kuni, I’m just saying that what you’re planning with Dottore is quite.. dangerous.” Dangerous, you say? He was a divine being, created with the power that equals those of gods. Don’t you dare spit out those stupid nonsense in front of him.

“Are you underestimating me and my capabilities? Come on, you knew better than that.” The way he glared at you made you feel small under his gaze. It made you feel terrified of the sudden change in his aura. It has become unsettling and dark. You fucked up and there was nowhere you could hide.

"It wasn’t that.. But- You’re going to hurt the people in Sumeru.. Besides, this nation already has its own god, so why bother taking her place?“ You were careful with your words, trying to not worsen the situation you’re in. The atmosphere was getting tenser each passing time that you could barely breathe through your lungs.

“That small kid? She couldn’t even do anything. She’s weak and useless at this point. I’m just doing a favor for her people. I can be a better deity than her.” His tone was no longer the gentle tone that Kunikuzushi always used. It was Balladeer taking over the conversation. His voice was full of venom, and he stared at you with a look that feared you.

A look of disapproval was written on his face. He must’ve hated you now. How stupid you were, to bring up about his purpose of life when he trusted you to always be with him.

It had to be said even though it was going to hurt both you and him. You really didn’t want him to get hurt. It was the least you could do. “How do you know that Lesser Lord Kusanali wasn’t able to look after her people? As far as I know, she’s the gentlest and the kindest Archon.. Please have faith in her. You don’t have to do all this just because of your goal to achieve godhood. Ei had acknowledged your strength so please…”

You almost ran out of breath after holding it in for far too long. You shifted your gaze towards Scaramouche and you were stunned. He was taking quick steps towards you before holding you by the hair. Disappointment and hatred could be seen in his eyes as he made you face him directly.

"What is it that’s so fucking hard for you to understand. I was born as a divine being and this is how I’d get what I deserved. Your opinions don’t matter to me. You’re just a weak mortal who just happened to have some pity for me, hmm? You never cared, didn’t you? I should’ve known better than to trust a mortal.“ He looked at you with pure loathe. You couldn’t bear to see him looking at you as if you’ve been nothing but a burden and a hindrance.

You ignored the aching sensation on your scalp as he was still holding a fistful of your hair in his hand. The sharp pain in your heart hurt more than anything you’ve ever felt. You tried to grab him by the shoulder to make him halt his movements. It hurts so much… “Don’t touch me…” He let go of your hair and took a step away. You dropped onto your knees, hissing from the searing pain as you held your scalp with your hand. It took a lot of strength in you to hold the tears in. This truly wasn’t what you had expected.

You called out his name in a small voice. “Scara-” “Don’t you dare say anything else!” You still continued even though it was clear that he didn’t want to hear anything from you. “I can’t do this anymore..” You uttered while leaning against the wall to steady yourself. He then laughed mockingly at you, showing that he had expected this from the start.

"Are you now? Have you finally realized that you were simply useless? Look at you, pathetically crying over small insults. Humans are weak, they are too vulnerable and worthless compared to a divine being. You were just a pawn in my plan, after all. You meant nothing to me. Your pathetic emotions will only distract me from achieving my goal.“ He was too harsh, but he could care less. These stupid emotions will only drag him down.

“Oh and one more thing,” He continued while taking a few steps toward where you were weakly standing on your feet. His eyes settled on you as he gave you a deadly glare that almost had you shedding more tears. “Just leave me the fuck alone, and never show yourself in front of me again, you traitor."

It dawned on him like crashing waves. He had lost you, the only person who stayed long enough and sacrificed their whole life to be with him. He knew he fucked up. But his ego was too big for him to chase after you and apologize, even though his mind was practically screaming at him.

He never knew warmth and love anymore. His artificial heart was beating frantically in his chest. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… He could never take those harsh words back. You probably loathe him now.

He deserved it. He was the one who had wished for this. He wanted you to leave him alone, so you obliged by getting out of his life completely. He lashed out at you and put the blame on you. He broke your heart. Your gentle and fragile heart that he once swore to protect. Five words were all it took to completely lose everything. He had lost you, his other half. You, who had given him your heart to feel the warmth of love and care.

Now, he felt nothing but numbness and emptiness. You must’ve felt lonely too when he wasn’t home for a long time. The deafening silence in every corner of your home was driving him insane. The atmosphere in your shared room had never felt this cold. The mattress felt hard under his weight. The duvet felt uncomfortable. Something was wrong. No, everything felt wrong. It lacked warmth and love. Something that he could never gain again. All because of his foolishness.

He was foolish to have pushed you away for his own selfishness. He was even more foolish to even think that he deserved a happy ending despite all the horrible things he had done. Especially towards you.

[hauntedpearl]

s12 destiel from dean's perspective is explanation enough for why dean is sooooo insane after that season. like.

- first he almost kills himself for the greater good or whatever and has to come to terms with like. dying. on purpose. and then he is given the gift of life but before he can be like yay! i can go home! his mom is back from the dead??? and his brother is missing???

- then his mom leaves him bc she wants to figure out who she is and even tho he's like a 38 yo man it fucks w him a lot understandably.

-they get arrested and put in SOLITARY for a while and when they finally get out and meet cas again (at which point dean has once again come to terms with dying for the greater good but also mostly his mom and brother this time), he KILLS THE REAPER THEY MADE THE DEAL WITH AND GETS ALL EMOTIONAL??? after which he proceeds to fuck off bc he is Busy™ tracking lucifer etc.,

- then they get a lead and CAS ALMOST DIES IN FRONT OF HIS EYES and throws an I love you in his goodbye speech for the lolz. which. hahaha. anyway cas lives but turns out his mother — with whom he's trying to connect so badly so he can achieve full Normalcy — was like. lowkey responsible for his almost death. so they're fighting now.

- cas receives a divine voicemail from his close friend and colleague and then they go on that case with Lily sunder and ISHIM BEATS CAS UP AND THREATENS TO KILL HIM and even after they beat him Lily Sunder is like. I'm gonna go do some soul searching and if im in the mood I'll come back and KILL YOU. THREAT. and cas is like 😔 fair. so you know.

- there is also an instance of him losing his memories which is scary. and it's like. being intimately familiar with that experience is. something else. as a memory loss girlie let me tell you 👍🏽😄

- and then!!!!! lucifer's unborn child mind melds with his wifehusband — once more in front of his own two eyes — and "manipulates" him into running away with the pregnant lady instead of staying and Figuring Out A Solution. and when they finally do find cas, they are with them for all of 12 hours before HE DIES. FORREAL THIS TIME. AND LIKE THAT'S IT. NO COMING BACK FROM THAT ONE!

this is not an exhaustive list bc i don't remember everything but. like you know. he was primed to get worse and worse. all things that happen in s12 are out of his control but they are also things that happen in front of his eyes, and in ways that make him think that perhaps he did have control over them and he did fuck up some way and he *should* have done something to change the course of their lives so he's filled with guiltshame about it. and he decides that the solution to not losing anyone in the foreseeable future is to just. Control Every Possible Aspect Of Their Existence. which is impossible and that's why he gets mad all the time but YOU KNOW. YOU CAN SEE WHY HE'S CRAZY. poor s12 dean man.

[ofbluesandyellows]

Blueberry Wednesday - TASM! Peter Parker / Fem! Reader

Summary: Peter has a new noisy neighbor and he doesn't know how to deal with that -including bright plates and tasty food.

Word count: 2,086

a/n: Hiya! This is a new little thing that came to mind a few days ago, it's so nice to be back to share something with you. Hope you enjoy it let me know if you want to read more :)

Peter had been living in this new apartment for a few months now, the building was nicer than the last, the hot shower worked fine and the electricity didn’t have that buzzing sound that made his migraines unbearable. It was in an okay area and it was close to where he worked.

His life had been monotonous for the same amount of time too, maybe even longer, waking up, shower, coffee, work, lunch, patrol, kick some ass, fix his wounds —when needed—, sleep and back to square one. Peter didn’t feel the need of anything at the moment, Mary Jane had broken up with him for the second time, and even when he was heartbroken, and cried to sleep when he missed her, he was not pushing her to accept him back, he knew it was for the best. Pushing everyone away was the thing he was masterful at. 

But this banging and screeching coming from the floor on top of his was causing his body to flinch every time that mother fucker sound appeared. His jaw clenched, his fist tightened. Peter had given whomever this person was, about an hour to come to their senses but this was enough. He stood up from his bed, leaving his badly sewed spider-man fixed suit splattered on the bed. Heavy steps and the slam of his door didn’t give the owner of the apartment a clue of what was coming for them, so when he banged the door two times, he waited but nothing happened, instead a wave of noise came through of it, as if the air and life were doing it on purpose just to add more stress in him; music the loud kind, instruments clashing against one another as if they had no rhythm to go with.

He banged the door, this time with white knuckles and a fury bubbling in his stomach. Suddenly the music stopped and Peter inhaled, oh, he was so ready to give this person hell, he was even expecting a fight to go down. This didn’t have anything to do with MJ dating another person, of course not, this was about the noise, yeah, that was it.

The door swung open and Peter puffed his chest, but it deflated the second his eyes landed on your frame. 

“Hi!” You said chirpy and jolly, waving a hand. Your hair was messy as if a wind swirl had trapped you and now you had to deal with this new crazy hairdo and a sweaty forehead.

Peter tried, he really did but his eyes betrayed him and went up and down your body, pink shorts, with strawberries, that was something. Your shirt was spotty with breach, it was an Arctic Monkeys one, he liked them. You looked… not as annoying as he expected.

He gulped and inevitably sighed. “Um hello, listen, I came up here to make you stop with the noise but I was not expecting to find you here, so um, yeah sorry. Just would you keep it down?”

All the hot bubbly anger settled down, he was in no way going to fight a girl let alone an adorable looking one.

“Oh, I had no idea, sorry!” You smiled sheepishly. “I just moved in this morning and I was trying to move a few things around because they just left them all scattered and I kind of wanted to— anyway yeah I am so sorry about that.” 

Peter nodded, he caught the pink in your cheeks going brighter the more he stared at you.

“You’re fine, really, maybe I’m just being a little dramatic.” 

Dammit enhanced hearing. 

“I bet you aren’t, I put the music too loud to avoid hearing the screeching myself.” Scratching your cheek you looked at him in the eye and quickly looked away. 

“Well, I live downstairs, do you… er need some help?” Peter looked past you, his eyes landing on the piled boxes and the furniture indeed resting in the center of the room.

“No need, I think I caused enough mayhem,”

“Nonsense, I would be also doing it for myself, if I help you you will finish early, hence I can have silence in my own apartment.” 

After a second you nodded, stepping aside. “Alright then.”

“My name’s Peter Parker by the way, I live literally below you.” His big hand extended, you met his and soon you two were moving furniture around the apartment, the music didn’t sound like noise in Peter’s ears any more, he in fact found out you really liked The Strokes.

The next morning Peter woke up with a banging headache, a brick wall fell over him when he tried to save a dog from a fire down by Little Italy. Only positive thing about his heroic act was that the owner of the dog handed him a little coupon card for free pizzas for the rest of the year at his son’s pizzeria two blocks down. He was definitely using that one.

A soft almost imperceptible knock startled him as he swallowed two ibuprofens with a big gulp of black coffee. The coffee was cold but he couldn’t care less.

As if he wasn't sure the knock had been on his door, he opened it slowly, you couldn’t be too sure anyway. At least his spider senses weren’t skyrocketing, which was always good.

His eyes found emptiness, there was no one at his door, his head popped out, looking to the right then the left and then a sweet smell caught his attention. Syrup-y, vanilla like.

Eyes went to the floor instinctively, right at his feet there was a yellow plate, a baby blue sticky note on the plastic wrapping it. 

His brows furrowed as he squatted down. 

Hi, Peter Parker.

I’m so sorry I disturbed your peace last night, 

take these pancakes as an apology and as a thank you for your help.

Have a good day,

- your noisy top floor neighbor.

Peter felt a flutter in his chest, he hadn’t eaten pancakes in so long, and these looked extremely good. The plastic wrap was forming little condensation drops, so he picked it up, with a smile forming on his lips.

As soon as the wrap was discarded his apartment filled with the smell of sweet homey goodness. Even a little plastic pot of syrup was resting at the side of the pancakes. He looked at them for a good minute, just appreciating the looks of it. 

“Okay…” he mumbled to himself as he grabbed a fork, his cold coffee still half drunk near his left hand.

Peter firstly dipped his pinky in the syrup and as he sucked on it he couldn’t help to make a sound of pure joy. Pouring the gooey thing over the spongy misshapen circles was making his mouth water and the first bite was like a whole new experience to him. He noticed how the pancakes were soft like he imagined clouds were, then he chewed on something sour his eyes widened, looking down he noticed the very well hidden blueberries.

It was like having a party in his mouth, warm, sugary with a hint of sourness and then all combined, he moaned as his forehead hit the surface of the counter in his kitchen. 

“You have to be kidding me!” 

Peter was a fan of berries in general but there was definitely something in the blueberries that made him extremely happy, it was almost childish, it was probably the memories of his mom adding them to his cereal when he refused to eat something else.

The whole thing disappeared in less than a few minutes. He was both flattered and a bit insulted by you for giving him six pancakes instead of the common amount of three but he was also very grateful, he hadn’t had a breakfast like that since he lived with May, and that had been years ago. This made him feel warm inside, almost loved.

The water of the sink cleaned the remains of the food and he stared at the plate, a big pink smiley face was painted on the center of it, this made him chuckle, one that vanished as quickly as it came. How was he supposed to give you back your plate, he was not good at cooking, well… only if you appreciated instant ramen or mac and cheese coming from a box.

He wasn’t very fond of the idea of returning your plate empty, made him feel ungrateful, even though he had been the one handing you his services, it hadn’t taken much from him to help you anyway, you had been nice and chatty, he even enjoyed being around you, and Peter didn’t enjoy being around many people. 

With a deep sigh he left the cheery plate to dry on the rack, he had to go to work now.

Working for this new lab was something he didn’t expect to feel excited about but being part of the genetics department was probably the best decision they made for him, he could check all kinds of weird things, giving him access to classified information that was also helpful for his arachnid counterpart. 

But just today wasn’t one of those days, his mind kept on drifting to you and your plate and those freaking incredible pancakes. Deep down he thought of finding ways to help you so he could eat those delicious fluffy things at least once more. For now he had to just entertain the idea, soon he focused on options to give you back your stuff without even going knocking at your door.

Because that would be weird? Isn’t it? To knock and give your plate back with a nod and then disappear without a word. It seemed too impolite and somehow Peter wanted to seem like a complete gentleman with you, after all he had been a bit forward last night, he was tired and upset and you were being so noisy but now here he was in a dilemma. 

Lunch felt like a slap, like a bucket of cold water, his sandwich tasted like sandpaper –not that he had tried it but he guessed that’s what it tasted like–not even his favorite drink from the vending machine seemed good enough in comparison to his three Michelin star breakfast. Swinging back home felt a little better than going in the subway, he made a mental note to fix his motorcycle, he didn’t need to deal with the heat of the city when he could drive to work and back and enjoy the breeze.

You know how destiny and coincidences are such a funny thing, Peter decided to take the elevator to his floor instead of just crawling up to his window. He just felt like it, so he stood there waiting until the door clinked sliding open, revealing a figure inside, your sparkly eyes was the first thing he saw.

Peter almost gasped.

“Peter! Hi,”

“Hey! Are you heading out?” duh how are you so smart, Parker? “I mean yeah of course you are, if not you wouldn’t be here.”

You chuckled. “Yes, I just ran out of milk.” Cheeks going pink, Peter smirked.

“Right, well, I won’t get in your way.”

“Okay, see you around.” 

Peter walked in the elevator and just as you walked past him, he held the door open just to see you for a little longer.

“Hey!” he quickly shouted. your hair flipping as you twirled to face him. “Thanks for the pancakes, they were really good, like exceptionally amazing.” 

“Ha, wow no, thank you, I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, hopefully there won't be more disturbances in the future.” 

“Please, be my guest, if you need something you know where to find me.” 

“Will try not to bother you much but it’s good to know, thanks!” 

Peter was grinning. “By the way, the blueberries were quite the surprise, they’re my favorite.”

Your whole face brightened “Good! You were lucky, then. It was Blueberry Wednesday.”

Chest fluttering and all, Peter saw you wave at him and disappear out the door, his way to his apartment felt light, like all his worries had suddenly evaporated. His apartment seemed cozier too. Kicking off his shoes, he went to grab a glass of water, his eyes finding the happy yellow and pink plate, he almost choked.

“Oh shit! What am I going to do with you?”

Scratching his neck, he really needed an excuse now. He wanted to see you again.

[bouncybongfairy]

Hellooo Could I request for Felix Catton please? Where’s maybe Oliver is so obsessed with Felix’s girlfriend, the reader to the point where he killed her because “if I can’t have you, no one can” troupe and all and like then Felix witnessed it and all angsty sad thingy so sorry if’s dark but thank youu so muchh 🥰🥰✨💖

Till Death

Oliver Quick x Fem Reader

Summary: After you and Felix starting going out, Oliver began developing an unhealthy infatuation with you. Anytime someone laid their eyes or hands on you, it made him feral. One night at a party he finally caves in to his depraved urges.

Word Count: 3.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Stalking Kink, Blood Kink, Knife Kink, CNC Kink, Nasty Smut.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was the beginning of the spring semester at Oxford University. Everyone seemed to be in a joyous mood, coming back from Christmas break completely decked out in mommy and daddy’s money. Grades are reset and all your friends are saying “I think a 7am lecture every Wednesday and Friday will be refreshing” or “I'm actually going to keep up with my canvas discussion questions this time around.” The best parties of the year are during spring semester, because everyone's stress levels are relatively low. Oliver was planning on heading to a house party with you and Felix. Both of you were friends before Felix and you got together so you two always invited him out when partying. Oliver always obliged in these invites but not for the sake of friendship. He liked keeping tabs on you, watching you get drunker and drunker. You were such a know it all in class, always raising your hand. Yearning to be a teacher's pet, going the extra mile to be the perfect student. Seeing you at night gave Oliver a high stronger than any bump he could take. Watching that innocent good girl facade fade away with the more wild you became after getting intoxicated drove him crazy. 

It made him furious when he saw the way Felix handled you, he was so sweet and gentle. It was so obvious that you craved a stronger hand. Wanting so badly for anyone to dominate and to remind you of your purpose. The way you flaunt your body around, practically begging to be shoved to the ground and taught how to act properly. Currently all three of you are getting ready in the dorm Felix and Oliver shared. You were in the bathroom leaning over the sink, your hips pressed against the edge. Your mouth was hanging open while applying mascara, Oliver was watching while making small talk with Felix. Who had his face buried deep in his closet looking for something to wear. Everytime you leaned closer to the mirror the oversize shirt you wore rose up, revealing your panty line. 

“Maybe just a polo, nothing too crazy,” he said, pulling out two options. 

“How much time before we go!” you called out from the bathroom.

“10 minutes!” Oliver replied. 

“Shit!” you gasped, rushing to finish. Felix was completely distracted, putting his shoes on and getting his things together. His phone went off every five seconds, after a while he finally went to see what all the buzz was about. 

“Fuck, Mason asked me to pick up a few bottles. Oliver, will you stay and walk with her and I'll meet the two of you there?” he asked. 

“Of course, see you there mate,” Oliver held back a scoff, Felix was such an idiot. Leaving you there for him to do… well, whatever he felt like. 

You kissed Felix goodbye and unraveled the hot rollers out of your hair. Fluffing it out before circling hairspray around it. Applying the last few touches like lip gloss and perfume. It was around 11pm and the weather outside was nippy. You being half dressed were feeling the effects of this quite viciously. The two of you were making small talk, mostly about the weather or school. Oliver didn’t give a fuck about what you were going on about. He was using it as an excuse to watch you, shiver and shake. The way your teeth were chattering together was driving him insane. The house wasn’t even a mile from campus but your heels were slowing the both of you down a bit. Like a wounded little animal hobbled by the wolf chasing it. This hummored him, thinking about how this would look if you were alone. The street lamps shining down, the light reflecting off your tan moisturized legs. Your lustrous jewelry also catches some of that light, practically calling wandering eyes to your body. Speaking of, your body was barely covered. Wearing a tube dress that barely covered your upper thighs. The material was cotton which meant it hugged you tightly. Fuck, he felt like he could see your goosebumps through it when he looked hard enough. He hated that Felix didn’t correct any of this. If you were his, he’d never let you walk about like that, any guy they passed had his eyes on you. Focusing in like you were their prey, it made his heart race. Bubbling with anger and jealousy, wanting to rip their throats out because he knew what they were thinking. Finally getting to the party, Felix was already a couple shots in, obviously his side quest went a bit off  the rails. Giving you a quick kiss before going back to entertaining ‘the boys’ who were quite sweet on him. Annoyed by the lack of attention, you poured an overly generous amount of liquor into your cup and headed into the living room. Where the speakers were blaring and a large group of people were dancing all together. 

Oliver sat on the couch, plastic cup in hand watching you. At first, your moves were more reserved. Keeping to yourself, dancing next to people rather than on them. As you suck down your liquor, your moves are becoming less modest. Now dancing against your friend, her manicured fingers gripping your hips. Oliver didn’t drink anything from his cup yet, he didn’t want to lose too much control over himself. Nor did he want anything to impair the focus he had on you. Sweat was starting to bead on your body and your dress was riding up. He liked noticing all these little things about you, the shift in your demeanor and attitude once you were drunk. Normally you were sweet-mannered and shy but when you were fucked up, you were more bratty and vulgar. Not afraid of acting out, practically screaming for someone to put you in check. He ripped his eyes off you and looked over into the kitchen. Seeing Felix down another shot, eyes practically drifted in two different directions. His girl who was way out of his league is half naked and drunk surrounded by wandering hands. He was so oblivious and stupid. Looking back your direction and his jaw dropped. You were standing right above him, hovering over where he was sitting on the couch. 

“Why don’t you ever dance?” you ask him. 

“Hmmm?” he asked, as if he didn’t hear you.

“Any time you come with us to a party, you never get like -hiccup- get crazy,” you say, sinking down to sit next to him. Now whispering in his ear whenever you spoke. 

“I do, I just pace myself,” he leaned in. 

“Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night,” you giggled, pulling a joint out from behind your ear. 

“You’re sparking up here?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow. 

“You gonna stop me?” you asked, smirking and lighting it. 

He felt all the blood in his brain rush down towards his dick. Almost lunging at you, like it was the perfect invitation to finally break you down. Your charm bracelet jingling everytime you bring it to your mouth for a drag. He chuckled to himself, remembering how just hours earlier you were eagerly raising your hand, hogging the attention from the teacher. Beaming every time she reaffirmed your answers, ‘amazingly accurate’ or ‘well done’ things like that that made you practically jump with joy. Now you were double fisting and practically sitting in your boyfriend’s mate’s lap. He was at his breaking point, feeling like his entire body was on fire. Like every atom and cell in his body was pushing him to take you. 

“Maybe we can get out of here? The air is starting to feel sticky,” Oliver says, standing up. 

“Oh of course! I was starting to feel the same way, especially after dancing,” you said, standing up and following him. Holding on to his belt loop, letting him lead you out of the house. 

Once the two of you finally got outside, your body was having a sublime reaction. Due to you being hot and sweaty, the cold weather outside was causing water vapor to come off your body. Oliver could feel his mouth salivating, watching you hands shake and you brought the joint to your mouth. You offered him a hit several times but he declined, enjoying watching you become high out of your mind. Making drunken conversation as you walked, digging into your purse and looking for your pen after the joint was smoked down to the crutch. It wasn’t until you started walking that you realized how fucked up you were. Even when you really try to keep your balance, you’d sway and wobble from time to time. Looking at your phone, checking the stats on your recent post. So preoccupied in your own little world that you didn’t notice Oliver was no longer with you. Dropping your phone into your purse and looking around, calling out to him. The street no longer looked safe and quaint. After standing there doing circles trying to locate him, you gave up and started the walk home. Or at least back to their dorm room. Clutching your purse and trying to fight through the pain your heels were giving you. 

Oliver was watching from about fifteen or twenty feet behind you. Seeing you look around with that unsure and scared expression on your face. Eyebrows furrowed and your eyes wide and glossy. Stumbling over your own feet as you walked around in circles looking for him: completely defenseless. You dropped your pen and bent down to get it, unknowingly exposing your backside to him. As you walked you kept pulling your dress down, the cold starting to get to you. He continued to follow, hiding in plain sight like in front of a parked car or mailbox. You were beginning to feel paranoid, hearing leafs crunching or being spooked by dogs barking. Pulling out your phone and ringing Oliver, frustration and uncertainty written all over your face. Amused and aroused by your fear, he would throw a pebble in your direction. It hit your heel and made you jump and fall onto the ground. The road did a number on your knees, both of them now bloody and dripping down your shin. Now crying, feeling overwhelmed and frightened. Oliver had to hide his smirk as he came over to ‘rescue’ you.

“Where did you go! I literally fell!” You cried, reaching out for him to help you up. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how we got separated- here let me carry you back yeah?” he asks with a sickeningly patronizing tone. 

“Really?” you asked even though he was already picking you up. His cock was throbbing while looking down on you. Mascara running down your face, teeth chattering and bleeding like a hurt little bunny. He carried you the rest of the way bridal style. Resting your head on his shoulder, complaining about your knees everyone in a while. It wasn’t long until the two of you finally made it back. He lets you stand up but once you put your weight on your legs you start wobbling, using him to support yourself. He grabs your forearm quite roughly and pulls you inside. You were confused as to why he was being a little aggressive but brush it off. Walking over to Felix’s bed and plopping down, finally taking your heels off. Oliver locked the door and jammed a chair underneath the doorknob. Taking notice of this, you start to question him, 

“How will Felix let himself in?” you ask. 

“Enough of that. Pretending you care about him,” he said, turning to face you. 

“I don’t- I care about him,” you say with a mix of defensiveness and disbelief.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you’re in denial or just too prideful to accept it but you don’t care about him. You think he’s stupid and want more. It’s okay, just admit it,” he says, walking slowly towards you. 

“Why are you acting like this?” you asked, confused to where this was coming from. 

“Me acting like what? Calling you out on a fact? You’re one of those girls who likes to think she’s confident and calling the shots at all times. In reality all you really want is someone to turn your brain off. Take complete control over you and fuck you until you fall apart. Completely brain dead, only worry being when a cock is shoved in your stupid fucking throat,” he said. Tears stinging your eyes, and insecurity flooding your mind as he continued, 

“Would a girlfriend who cares about her boyfriend leave him at the party without even checking on him? Simply to go home early with his best friend to get fucked into the matress,” you said, now hovering above where you were sitting on the bed. 

“Not. True.” You said, crossing your arms. 

“No? So you wouldn’t mind if I see how wet you are? I have a feeling you’re soaking through your panties as we speak,” he said, getting on his knees. In your head you wanted to immediately reject him, but in your gut you didn’t want to stop him. It was true, you did want someone who was rougher with you. That’s not only aroused but not scared by the concept of hurting you. 

“I mean if you don’t want me to please, feel free to stop me,” he said, resting one hand on your knee and the other slowly sliding down your thigh towards your pussy. 

You felt like a whore, knowing that you should be stopping him. Shamefully justifying this betrayal with the fact that you haven’t had gratifying sex for a while. Felix was of course dominant and it wasn’t that he sucked at fucking or anything. It was just that he didn’t really understand the whole mental side of it. Also he didn’t want to hurt you. Whenever you made the suggestion of slapping you in the face or choking you a little past your limit, he got nervous. Never really doing these actions with full commitment. The tips of his fingers began to trace your slit, as predicted you’d completely soaked the lace material. Finding a weak spot in the lace material, he uses his fingers and rips a hole. You gasp and go to press your legs together; he moves his hands to your knees, stopping you from closing your legs. His hands were stinging the scraps, you grip onto his hair from both pain and pleasure. Ripping and pulling at the strands as hard as you can. Oliver kept looking up, watching your mouth hang open and the most pornographic moans slipping out. Pulling out the whore he knew you were deep down inside, feeling powerful knowing he was doing what Felix could never. Pulling his hair so damn hard was only building onto the pent up anger and jealousy he had over you. He pulled back, saliva and wetness dripping down his chin. Looking down at you, completely deranged and desperate.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. As you went to respond, he shoved his bloodied fingers into your mouth. Pressing your tongue down, pushing his digits down your throat. You gagged which caused him to laugh before continuing. 

“What was that?” he teased, becoming more aggressive. His index and pinky finger were pressed against your cheeks, his nails scratching you. 

Finally pulling out and smacking you with the same hand. Even though you were drunk and high off weed and adrenaline, that took you off guard. It burned and the fact that his hand was soaked in your saliva and blood felt embarrassing or humiliating; maybe a bit of both. It made you overwhelmed with turmoil. Something that should be so shameful left you wanting more. Longing for something more painful and intense. The rush and exhilaration of pushing the limits of your emotional and physical boundaries was like a drug you never had before. He grabbed your hair and forced you to the ground, onto your knees. You winced as you fell to the ground, eyebrows furrowing and a moan coming out of your mouth. 

“Aww does that hurt?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. Smacking his cock against your lips, smearing pre-cum over your mouth for a while.

“You deaf? Answer the fucking question,” he said, grabbing onto your hair with both hands. 

Feeling like this was a trick question, your instinct was to stay quiet. He yanked your hair, showing that he was becoming impatient with your stubbornness. When you open your mouth to answer, he shoves his cock down your throat. Being merciless with his pace, pounding into your mouth, having no regard for your feelings; and you were loving every second of it. Oliver was noticing you were finding a bit too much pleasure in this. Arching your back and rocking your head back and forth. Looking down he sees your hands on the floor supporting yourself. He steps on them, slowly putting more and more weight down and trapping you to the floor. Panic started to set in once you tried pulling your hands away and couldn't. He gathered most of your hair into one hand and used his other to cover your nose. Completely blocking your airway. Oliver watched your eyes widen and your face become beat red from a lack of oxygen. Every time you pulled at your hands or gagged around his cock he would twitch and moan. 

“Don’t pass out on me yet, be the good little slut you are and hold on a little longer,” he said, shaking your head by the nose when he noticed your eyes getting glossy and foggy. He finally pulled away, you were sucking in deep breaths. Slowly coming to and he picks you up and lets you fall on the bed. 

“Sorry love, I just needed you more pliable for what’s next,” he said, pulling out his pocket knife. 

He flips you over onto your knees, shoulders pressed against the mattress. Again, not having any regard for you, he shoves himself into your dripping cunt. Fucking into you slowly, you thought he was being gentle after how aggressive he was being. In reality he is scoping out a good place to carve his initials onto your ass. Using the tip of the blade to make the first mark, you screamed. Not expecting the sudden sting. The entire time he was creating a slit in your skin he would degrade and tease you. Acting sympathetic but really just getting off on owning and marking your body as his. Making you fear and worship him in the sickest way possible. The panic and fear in your scream going straight to his dick, not being able to control the erratic rhythm of his thrusts. He admired his initials becoming less legible due to the blood starting to cover it. He added a few random slash marks on the other ass check, just so the other cuts wouldn’t get lonely. Dropping the knife onto the floor and playing with your ass as he fucked into you. Spanking you causing the blood to fly around, onto your lower back and his face. Once he was done playing, he flipped you around onto your back. You looked smashed, like a hot fucking mess. Seeing how brain dead and broken you were was sending him off the edge. Wrapping his bloody hands around your neck as he came in you. Finally claiming your body, showing you the true purpose of your mouth and pussy. He got up and went to the bathroom to wash up. Smirking as he washed the blood off his face and body. Felix walked in, completely drunk and high out of his mind. On top of that, in shock from seeing your body on the bed, bruised and covered in blood. Screaming and crying attempting to wake you. In so much shock he didn’t even notice Oliver walk out, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Fucking idiot,” he scoffed.

[l1tw1ck]

Least Valuable Player

He may be the LVP on the court, but at least he's the MVP in your office

Reader has a dick, no pronouns used, is called 'sir' and 'daddy'

Bottom!FTM Steve x Top!Masc!Coach Reader

[Series] [Part Two] AFAB Language Used

CW: Heavy Dub-Con/Non-Con (Up to Interpretation), Slapping, Dom/Sub, Daddy Issues, Dacryphilia, Past & Threatened Abuse, Choking, Manhandling, Spanking, Squirting, Objectification, Rough Sex, Mult. Orgasms, Creampie

📝 1,570 Words

──────────────────

"Coach-" Steve tries to explain himself, why he cost his team the whole game but you stop him, dragging him into your office. The rest of the team thinks you're going to yell at him so they leave the gym, not wanting to hear it for the sake of Steve's dignity.

You slap him harshly. "Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse! We would've won the game if it weren't for you!"

"I'm sorry, okay! Jesus! I didn't do it on fucking purpose!" He's already annoyed by his teammates treating him badly for the last.

You look at him like he's crazy. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

Steve gasps, realizing what he just said. "I'm sorry- please, sir- I didn't mean it!"

You grip his neck, lifting him in the air so that he's making direct eye contact with you. You spit on his face. "Pathetic little bitch." You pull down his shorts and boxers. "You're gonna be here all night taking my cock, got it?"

Steve manages to choke out a 'Yes sir' in response. This has been a thing for a while, roughly fucking and hurting Steve when he does something wrong or just using his body when you feel like it.

The first time, you were only yelling at him for having his head in the clouds during practice. And then he started to cry, the almighty Steve 'the hair' Harrington was crying and trembling from being yelled at.

"Why the hell are you crying? You can't be this weak."

Steve was shaking and sniffling. "My dad...he used to yell at me like this.."

The sight of him crying made you hard. "You probably deserved it and with the way you've been acting lately, I have no choice but to yell at you." You grabbed the waistband of your sweatpants and your boxers, pulling them both down. "I need to teach you a lesson. Hopefully you'll stop screwing up again after I teach you this."

Steve looked down then up at you. "Sir..?" His stomach twisted, an odd feeling he couldn't identify.

"If you don't want to lose your spot on the team, kneel down and suck it."

Steve didn't say a word sank down to his knees, he held your hot length in his hand and sucked on the tip. It was clear he'd never done it before. You couldn't tell if he was doing it because he wanted to or because he needed that spot on the team.

You're still not sure of the answer yourself.

You take your fingers down to his clit, rubbing it and getting him wet. "I wonder if you even feel bad for making the team lose, did you do it on purpose? So you could get fucked afterwords?"

"I didn't-"

You smack his cunt. "You're lucky you didn't ruin the season for us. Count." You spank his cunt again.

"On- one."

You spank his pussy again, then again, and again.

"Se- seve- seven."

You spank him again and his body seizes up, his eyes rolling back as he squirts over the floor. "You better clean that up later."

"Eig- eight. I will- I promise-"

You spank him two more times before throwing his back onto the desk. "I'm feeling kind today, so these bruises might be the last ones you'll receive today." You trace the light bruise on bis cheek and bring your hand down to the red outlines on his neck.

Steve whimpers as your hand glides down to his collar. You pull on it and rip it apart. Steve's glad he's got a few extras.

"You haven't been missing days, right?" You ask, referring to his contraceptives.

Steve shakes his head. "I'm safe.."

"Good. Even if you're becoming the worst on the team, I still can't have you getting pregnant." You pull your pants and boxers down, hard cock making contact with Steve's wet pussy. "How am I supposed to use you if you're knocked up?" You laugh.

Steve looks down and watches as you push your length inside him, it's the same every time but he always seems to focus on it.

You grip his waist, digging your nails into his skin. "You make such a good cocksleeve, you know that?" You groan, making slow but hard thrusts into him. "You never complain and you're always so fucking tight. The perfect little toy."

Steve only moans softly. Your hand wraps around underneath his neck, just below his chin. "Say thank you."

"Th- thank you, da- daddy hhn~" Steve squeezes your length. You rarely give compliments to him, even if the compliment objectifies him, so you're probably in a good mood. He knows he should do anything he can to stay in your good graces. "I'm so- sorry..for ruin- ruining the gh- gam- game.."

"Do it again and I'll beat you harder than ever." You let go of his neck. If it happens a another time, it'll prevent the team from going to nationals. Steve knows you're not being dramatic.

You flip him onto his stomach and rub his ass. "You still need a few more spankings, can't let you think you can get away with everything." You strike his ass once, then twice before fucking him faster and harder.

Steve fills the office with his wanton whines and moans, crying hard as you have your way with him. His ass turns red after a few more spanks.

"Gon- gonna co- co- come~!" He barely manages to say something coherently. He always gets a little, or a lot, out of his mind when you fuck him. He doesn't know his left from his right.

All he knows is the feeling of your thick cock dragging along his walls, your strong hands grabbing him tightly and hitting him harshly, your voice as you degrade him, his own pleasure, and the warm feeling of you pumping your seed into him.

When he's in this state, it's all that matters. It's beyond easy to get him like this, unaware and acting like a whore in heat, he's completely helpless beneath you.

"That's right, come all over your coach's cock like the whore you are." You spank him again, causing him gasp and squirt over the floor (and a bit of your desk) again. "One of the few things you know how to fucking do right."

Steve's head starts to get fuzzy as you carelessly fuck him through and after his orgasm. He babbles something incomprehensible, something in between 'so good' and 'too much'.

You ignore him, not really caring about anything he says anymore. He's a toy after all, his pleasure isn't your concern. "Close-" You mutter.

Your thrusts never slow or stutter as you reach your peak, staying equally as rough and brutal as you fuck your cum into him. "Mmh- Just take it, bitch."

Steve slobbers onto your cheap chair, eyes rolling back in pleasure. "Ye- yes da- daddy-" He mewls as your nails dig into his ass and your thrusts finally come to a halt.

You take wrap your arms around his torso and bring him close to you, back flush against your chest. Steve instinctively rests his head on your shoulder as your hands grab his thighs and dig into his soft flesh, nails just a few millimeters away from the previous markings they created.

You only wait a few seconds before fucking him again, the sounds coming from his pussy far more obscene than before.

"Touch your pussy for me, doll." You nibble on his ear.

Steve whimpers, taking a few seconds to register the command and earning a sharp slap to his sex as punishment. His hand shakily moves to his clit, rubbing it the best he can. Steve mumbles something. "...mess.."

You make a good guess as to what the full sentence was supposed to be. Likely that he's going to make a bigger mess. "Not my problem. I'm not the one who has to clean it up." You chuckle.

Steve whines. "Sor- sorry-" He makes a high pitched noise as he feels an almost electric feeling surge through his body. It's even more intense than before. His walls spasm around you, almost as if he's trying to vacuum up the cum that's sloshing inside him. He mewls as he squirts for the third time, adding more to the mess he's going to have to clean up tonight or even tomorrow morning.

He's just thankful it's the weekend.

You fuck him in every position possible and in all three of his holes. Against the door, on the chair, on the floor, everywhere. By the end of it, his ass is red, his voice is hoarse, and he's littered with bites. The marks on his neck are much darker and more obvious.

With one final thrust, you spill inside of him for the last time today. You pull out and slap his twitching cunt. "See you on Monday." You drop your school keys on the desk so he can lock up whenever he leaves.

As athletes, your stamina is better than an average person's but with the way you treat Steve during sex, he always ends up spent by the end of it.

You're cruel enough to leave him in the office half conscious and with cum dripping out of him. He won't know his place if you treat him kindly.

He's just your toy, nothing more.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me

Spawn! Astarion x F! Reader

Chapter Three: The Sun is Freezing

Synopsis: (1 year post Netherbrain) You and Astarion search through an abandoned ruin in the Underdark for a Ring of Sunwalking. Unfortunately, it doesn't go as planned.

CW: Violence, mentions of Gore, character death

*This chapter is the beginning of the main story

Disclaimer- I put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. Birdie is a stock image. I will not describe the readers body in detail- she is just merely on the banner for ✨drama✨. I believe the picture of Astarion is from @cheekylittlepupp . And then the symbol of Orcus in the back is a free image off the internet.

Chapter Two: Chapter 4 : AO3

“I don’t like this, Astarion,” you peer into the open door, “this feels like a ‘with friends’ kind of place.” 

 “I have a friend- you’re here!” The vampire says all too cheerily.

  You turn to leer at him through unamused eyes.

 “May I remind you that I am only 12 pounds and I’m still a CAT!?” 

  Astarion tuts at you while lacing up his other boot, “Cats are ferocious creatures and if all else fails- you can irritate the monsters to death.” 

 It hurts your feelings when Astarion says things like that- it almost makes you feel like he wants you to die on these missions.

“If you want to get rid of me so badly, you can just say so,” you say with an awkward chuckle, “no need to send me off to be killed on purpose. Gale sai-“

 “That is not my intention,” Astarion says sharply before scratching between your ears- a smirk on his face when you begrudgingly lean in for more, “I jest.” 

  You aren’t entirely convinced but that’s okay. You find yourself staring back into the entrance of the ruin. It’s pitch black and you can hear something down there. You can hear chattering and the scrapping of feet against stone. It feels all too…. Evil. 

  You peer back at Astarion who is now doing a final check on his equipment and is grumbling as he looks for something in his bag. 

 His curls fall into his face and Gods if only you were a person like you are supposed to be- you’d push them out of his face, trace the curve of his lips with your thumb before guiding his face to-

 NO! You shake your head violently, those are living people thoughts- not Ghost person or cat person thoughts. 

  An emotional support Cat Ghost could dream though. 

   You gulp when you look into the vault again. You’d prefer to stay up here in the Dwarven Ruin that is built on top of the massive Catacomb where an ancient and prominent Drow Leader has been laid to rest. 

  Why is he important? Well, he has a Ring of Sunwalking on his crusty old hands. 

    “Pspspspsp, come here kitty, kitty.” 

  All the hairs on your spine raise as a disembodied voice whispers through the cave. You hoped the “no one ever returns” warning would have discouraged Astarion from pursuing this lead, but no. He just saw it as a guarantee that no one else has the damn Ring- “always the optimist” or so his pessimistic, lying ass says.

 “Oh good, a crazy, cat loving, disembodied voice,” Astarion scowls, “because descending into a Catacomb isn’t enough of a horror already.” 

 “I really don’t like this,” you whisper. 

  Astarion scoops you up from the ground and puts you in his empty pack with a bag of holding. He contemplates for a moment before taking something out of his pocket.

 “Here,” he slips a ring onto your paw like a bracelet, “maybe you can try to cast sunbeam using it. I’m not sure how the logistics work with you being a cat and everything, but I’m sure it’s not, not doable.

“Just please, for both of our sake’s Darling, try not to use it unless you absolutely need to.” 

 “Aye aye captain,” you grumble and use your front two paws to help you see over his shoulder, “I’ll do my best.” 

   The darkness of the Catacomb is all consuming and heavy. A thick, rolling fog covers the ground and the smell of rotting assaults both of your noses instantaneously. The halls leave little to be desired and it seems this place has been abandoned for a long time now.

 “What in the wretched hells is this place?” Astarion asks quietly, “it’s atrocious down here! Not even a hint of decor- no one appreciates the dead anymore.” 

 “And never did, apparently.” 

   He snickers as he walks forward. You can smell his anxiety rolling off of him and you try to calm every instinct inside you that says to flee. This is a truly terrible idea- you can feel it in your paws. 

  Astarion continues to quietly creep along the wall and you continue to monitor the area for any nasty, creepy crawlers. It doesn’t seem too scary and you feel yourself and Astarion begin to relax.

 Then the trumpet comes on. 

   Astarion freezes and has his back against the wall to protect you. Using his shoulder as leverage, you peer in the direction of the trumpet sound and you nearly yowl in horror. 

  A massive, skeleton Drider is staring back in the darkness as he toots his trumpet for another group of skeletons awkwardly dancing- one of their ribs hits the floor with a hollow CLUNK. It’s friends look at the rib, pause their dancing to clap, and then continue to dance again. This cycle continues until the skeleton is completely broken apart on the floor.

 “It’s tooting a diddy of death,” you whisper in an attempt to break up the tension sitting like a weight in your chest.

 “He should really go back to his day job,” Astarion mutters in response, “I almost want to fight him just to get the music to stop.” 

 “Really? I think he’s quite good.”

 “Of course you do.” 

  Astarion side steps even slower now, being careful not to attract the attention of the Drider and his dancers. You are surprised at how attentive Astarion is being in regards to where he is stepping. Maybe you won’t have joint second funerals together after all. 

  The deeper you descend, the worse the creatures seem to become- skeletons that are at least seven feet tall, wraiths with piercing eyes, Black Pudding aimlessly wandering for another meal, and grim locks. Even worse- the entire Catacomb structure is in a circle that just keeps descending until you get to the ground floor so even if you do manage to find the ring, you’re going to have to go past all of these creatures again. 

  You realize you are holding your breath once Astarion steps onto the main floor and you force yourself to slowly release it. Your whole body feels like it’s ready to run and that chittering you heard earlier is back. 

  The main floor is decorated in gore- fresh and old bodies are strewn about, some unlucky individuals are petrified versions of themselves, and it smells awful. 

  There are open archways along the wall and the nicely adorned one is the room you’re looking for. Astarion goes to step onto the platform, but you hiss at him to stop just in time. 

  Seeing a Grick before it sees you is a blessing. From the third level to your right, you barely caught a glimpse of the creature's beak. The platform is a death sentence so back to crawling along the wall it is. 

 “This is such a pain in the ass,” Astarion mutters under his breath, “nothing can ever be easy, can it?” 

  You shake your head in agreement, but you are far too afraid to speak prematurely. Your eyes are zeroed in on the Grick and you are already planning how you’ll distract it so Astarion can at least make a run for it. It would have been nice to know a Grick was down here because they could have starved the creature out- now they are forced to work within it’s limitations. 

  It feels like eons before you reach the lavish archway, but you direct Astarion to the archway next to it. He gives you a look, but you just keep your paw pointed at the next archway. The book specifically said that the fancy archway was a trap.

  Astarion steps across the archway and you are instantly reassured that you made the right decision when a massive fireball sends the Grick flying across the room and splattering against the wall. You had sworn it hadn’t moved from it’s spot so thankfully it didn’t have the 411 about the traps. 

  As Astarion moves through the corridor, it begins to look more and more like a prominent member of society is buried here. The walls are painted brightly and, despite the lack of attention, the tomb seems to be holding up very well. 

 There are four coffins in the middle, each one side by side. The wall behind the coffins is full of slots for urns- several of them have crumbled under the test of time, but the drawings on the wall suggest that they served this man in some capacity. 

  You study the pictures in awe- whoever this was lived a very large life. A sad pit of envy fills your stomach. You wish you had paintings with you going into battle and saving the day or at least a family portrait. 

  The man had two children and a lovely wife. His wife adorns a beautiful ruby ring and he, shockingly, does not adorn any jewelry in any of the paintings. The wife is obviously the one who demanded luxury and evidently so did the man’s youngest daughter. The older daughter is dressed head to toe in knight armor and has a stern look on her face. 

 “Gods below!” Astarion whisper yells, “he’s not wearing the damn thing- hells, he’s not even here!”

“What!?” 

  You look over Astarion’s shoulder and sure enough- the man is gone and so is the rin- WAIT A MINUTE.

 “Open the wife’s,” you whisper, “in the paintings, she’s the one wearing the ring I think.”

 Astarion looks around the room to figure out what you are talking about and looks incredibly pleased with your detective work.

 “Look at that- you’re officially more useful than Gale,” he teases.

  The lid opens without any issues and it’s nicely intact- unlike her husband’s. Other people must have not noticed the paintings because there it is on her finger. The ring shines brightly and you feel like you are basking directly in the sunlight and not in this stinking cave. 

  Astarion gently slides the ring off the woman’s skeletal hand and puts it on his own- it adjusts to fit to his ring finger. He looks positively giddy when he looks over at you on his shoulder.

 “Now we just need to find out if it works.” 

 You go to speak, but another voice beats you to it. 

 “Come here kitty, kitty,” a creaking voice calls out from the statue of the man in the room, “I promise it won’t hurt.”

  You feel absolutely frozen in fear. Whatever this creature is thinks you are a normal house cat or they are trying to lure you both further into the tomb. Astarion’s entire body looks like he’s ready to pounce, but you gesture to just leave. Whatever this creature is- it is not friendly and it’s hiding somewhere neither one of you can see. The map shows that there is a hidden room somewhere, but neither one of you could decipher where. 

  Astarion casts Invisibility and begins to quickly sneak out of the room, but it’s too late.

 A lich comes out of absolutely nowhere and begins to cast a spell, but Astarion’s faster. It swipes out at you and Astarion barely dodges in time to save you. The lich goes down when it’s hit with an arrow of Arcane Interference and Astarion goes sprinting towards the door.

 Ignoring every safety precaution you’ve taken so far- Astarion attracts the attention of literally every creature in the Catacomb. An angry Beholder beast is somewhere because tentacles with eyes and mouths come sprawling out of the ground and reach for Astarion’s limbs. 

  You hold onto Astarion’s shoulder for dear life and scan your surroundings the best you can. Astarion leaps and dodges the slashing blades of skeletons and the hungry goo of the Black puddings, and all that is left is the damn Drider.

 “Trumpet man is on your right! His friends are laying down in the middle,” you scream. 

 “I KNOW!” 

   A flash of fire goes whirring past both of your heads and he begins cussing up a storm- finally using misty step to get by the musical Drider and his funky friends. Your head is positively spinning, but you are so grateful to see the entry way- you’re so close! 

  Astarion’s pace slows down for a fraction of a second and you see why almost instantly. The Lich is in front of the door and it’s waiting. 

  Time for some kitty magic. 

  You rub your paws together and focus really hard on the weave while you say the words for sunbeam. You hit the Lich and it goes up in flames- it’s enough to distract the creature and Astarion goes flying by him and out of the Dwarven ruin. The Lich and his various friends are hot on your trail (oops, didn’t close the vault door) and you have given up on all hope of surviving, but Astarion keeps running at a full sprint. Thank the Gods he doesn’t need to breathe.

  The exit portal is so close and right as Astarion steps into it- you feel an arrow go straight through you. You don’t even yowl, the shock in your body causes you to freeze instantly. You’re dying and there isn’t going to be anything you can do.

 Astarion is cheering and you feel the sun on your own fur. It feels nice, but you feel so so cold. 

  A pained scream and the feeling of grass makes you realize that Astarion has noticed the current predicament you are in.

“No- you cannot die,” Astarion chokes out, “don’t you dare die on me right now!”

  You nod in acknowledgement and you are struggling to hang on. You know you aren’t going to make it, but Astarion doesn’t know that. 

  You’re afraid to be completely honest. Will you just be kicked out of the body or will you be dragged down the ethereal current and to the afterlife? You want to stay with Astarion. You aren’t ready to leave him yet at all and you just found the Ring of Sunwalking for Gods sake!

  Only, it seems the world doesn’t care about that as you feel yourself being pulled away into the coldness of death once again.

******************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan

[daaydreamy]

haywire

summary: a lost robot manages to find its way to y/n’s place. 

warnings: none. 

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“Do you have a-” It paused and closed its eyes for a second, before it snapped them back open swiftly. “A charging port?”

Y/N’s eyes were wide and her mouth had gone dry. She was standing there at her front door, looking directly at a robot that had just turned up at her house, seeing electricity zapping under its weirdly human-like skin and water dripping all over it since it was raining. She probably hadn’t said a single word for a solid five minutes, staring and blinking at the robot that had just asked if she had a charging port for it to plug into, because it was a robot. 

“I am sensing a feeling of shock.” The robot nodded lightly, giving her a small smile, while her eyes widened just a little bit more and she clutched the edge of her door just a little tighter. “I understand, as I may look out of place at the moment, but I left my owner’s home for… certain purposes.” It then said and Y/N grew… suspicious, because, what the hell could it have done for it to leave? Did it kill its owner? Was it putting on a mask because it was an A.I. and could probably—definitely do that? Or was it treated badly by his owner? Y/N didn’t know. 

The thing was, robots were quite a normal thing. Lots of people owned them, either for chores at their homes, as caretakers, or… you know. Many of them walked along the same streets humans did, being treated the exact same way people were treated. They were used and created for many different things, and were only evolving more and more with each new version that came out from the talented hands that made them. They had very human-like senses, and even complex emotions. 

But Y/N had always been kind of weary around robots. Despite seeing them walking on sidewalks beside her often, she hadn’t ever thought of owning one, since she lived alone and didn’t have a reason to buy one. Plus, she was a little worried it would go crazy and murder her in her sleep and gathered other robots to dominate the world. A little. 

“I,” Y/N gulped and gave him a slightly nervous smile, “I don’t have a charging port, sorry.” She started to close the door, until it swiftly grabbed the edge of the door, making her jump and take a step back. It opened the door slowly again and Y/N’s heart was definitely beating faster now, glancing over at the knife she still had out because she was chopping things for her dinner. 

“I apologize, but I just need a place to stay. Could I at least sleep for a little while? I am only at 45%.” It let go of the door, thankfully, and stared at her with those weirdly detailed eyes that she knew were fake and made of intricate glass, waiting for her reply. It would twitch a little, due to being wet, and while the newer versions were water-resistant, its model wasn’t. It was one of the older models. Robots usually required charging ports to charge faster, but sleeping also helped them charge, only slower.

“Hey, there’s a few more houses down the street, I’m sure you could ask-”

The robot sighed, “They did not open.”

Y/N’s lips folded into a line and she closed her eyes for a second, attempting to gather herself but still failing miserably, walking closer to the door again and opening it a little wider. 

“Fine, but only for a few hours, please.”

•••

“Do you… eat?”

The robot was in the middle of wiping himself down with a towel so he would stop twitching so much, sitting down on the couch afterwards, where Y/N laid out one of her extra pillows and a blanket. She thought it was best to just give it what it wanted so she didn’t end up dead on her living room floor with blood staining her carpet. 

“Yes, but it doesn’t benefit me all that much.”

“Right, so…” She scratched her head lightly, “You can go sleep until you’re charged up enough, I’ll just eat in the kitchen. Good?”

It—or he nodded and smiled, “Good.”

Y/N nodded back and started heading back over to her kitchen, where she almost forgot she had food cooking, and immediately turned the stove off. She transferred her food onto a plate, all while keeping her eyes trained on the robot sleeping on her couch, lying as straight as a ruler with its hands placed on its chest. Its chest even rose and fell, as if it was breathing and had actual lungs, but all that was inside it were wires and metal. 

She ate in silence, just watching the robot as it slept. 

After eating, she placed her plate in the sink and decided to just wash it once the robot left because there was no way in hell that she was going to take her eyes off of it. She sat down on the couch afterwards, at its feet and at the very edge, examining it closely. Blue zaps were still running under its skin and it still twitched from time to time, making Y/N jump every single time it moved, like she was the predator and he was the prey. 

She brought a hand up and suddenly felt the urge to touch it, inching her fingers closer and closer to the skin on its arm, but quickly pulling them back when the robot suddenly sat up, which made her stand up immediately. The robot’s eyes flickered over to her and it felt like it was scanning her, like it was looking through all the documents that were all about her in its mind. 

“Did you, um, did you charge?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, cool.” She nodded, “So… Can you leave now?”

The robot moved to take its legs off of the couch, placing its feet on the carpeted floor, letting out another soft sigh. 

“I know this is asking for a lot, but I have no other place to stay at the moment, and it’s raining outside. Could I please stay here for the night, or at least until it stops raining?”

“Hey, no way are you staying here. You said all you needed was to charge, and you did just that. Why did you leave your owner’s place anyway? Doesn’t that break, like, your rules or something? Maybe I should just call the cops and get you out of here, jesus.” Y/N rubbed her forehead as the robot looked at her and she waited for it to say something. 

“Unfortunately, my owner hadn’t been treating me well, and I felt the urge to leave. Yes, it does break my “rules”, but I didn’t know what else to do. So, I left, and here I am now.”

Then suddenly Y/N was feeling… sympathy? For a robot?

“Isn’t there like a place for you to go that’s, like, specifically for robots like you?” She chuckled, “There should be, right?”

The robot shook its head. 

“Oh god.” She mumbled and started rubbing her forehead again, looking at the robot, unsure of what to do. She sighed and dropped her hand back to her side.

“What, um, what model are you?”

“Model RK800, named Harry.”

a/n: hi!!! welcome to this weird clusterfuck my mind made up!!! this was based off of the game detroit: become human actually! i highly recommend checking out the game, super cool and choices-based! harry’s model in this is actually also connor’s, one of the main character’s, model as well 🤓🤓🤓 i was also listening to anaconda during this so

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite (couldn’t tag you!), @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie

[star-quill]

hate fucking + age gap 😵‍💫

mmhm yeah mmhm yep yep yeah

he's nice at first, your parents are away for the weekend and you decide now you want to rearrange your room. so you ask peter for help, although he does most of the work. you just lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone while he's pushing your desk over to the window.

"you gonna help at some point or?"

"i can't push any of that stuff, that's why i got you to help.."

"so what are you doing then?"

"i'm just here to look pretty.."

it was at that point you bent your leg up, your skirt falling down slightly to expose your underwear. he knew you had done it on purpose, but he just had to ignore it.

"y'know.. you're what? mid-twenties? aren't you gonna move out soon? what's the point of changing all this around?"

"well, i've still got two years left of college.. so this is just for when i come back for the summer.."

"right.. right.."

"you gonna miss me?"

"i might.."

"i think you should give me a little going away present, don't you think?"

it was this that made him turn around, his eyes immediately drawn to your hand that was between your legs. he adjusted himself in his pants and you just smiled, throwing your head back onto your pillow. you closed your eyes and the next thing you heard was your bedroom door slam shut. you sat up immediately and noticed peter was gone, so you got up, searched the house to find him in your kitchen.

"did you not like my little show?"

"this isn't going to happen, ok? i'm not gonna fuck you."

"you need to get laid.. and it's fine if you hate me, my tight little pussy can take it.."

he stepped towards you now, grabbing your chin to force you to look up at him and spoke with a low growl.

"do you think i'd give in that easily? do you think just because you got a tight pussy that i'll give in? and besides, why are you coming onto me, thought you hated me too.."

"i asked you over here, figured you'd be the only one to be able to help me.."

"so, you still hate me?"

"well, of course i do.. for starters, you're being an asshole about helping me and then you're not fucking me.. so yeah.."

"if you wanna get laid so badly, go find someone your own age.. not me.."

"but i want a man.. someone who knows what they're doing.."

you brushed your hand over his crotch, smiling up at him so sweetly. he couldn't just give in, he needed to have the upper hand. but even if he did, he was still giving in.

"you want fucked? fine. go get on your bed, i want you face down, ass up.. and i'm going my own pace.."

you ran off to your room, leaving peter in the kitchen to contemplate his actions. one one hand, he could just leave, but then you'd hate him even more and he's slightly worried you'd start some crazy rumour about this whole thing. on the other, he could fuck you, maybe you'd hate him less and he could finally get properly laid.

he chose the latter option, coming up stairs to find you just how he wanted you.

"wet already? you're so easy.."

you just whimpered, feeling his fingers rub through your folds, before plunging two of them inside you. his other hand was on your hip, keeping you steady and upright.

"you just keep making those pretty noises, baby.."

"mmf.. use me.. please.."

"oh don't worry, honey.. i will.."

he fingerfucked you so gently, pulling you so close to your release before he pulled his fingers out. you slumped onto the bed, squeezing your legs together, trying to make yourself come.

"if you wanna come.. you gotta ask for it.."

"and if i don't want to?"

"then i'll leave you here.. but it won't feel as good compared to me.."

you quickly shifted yourself onto your knees, hands fumbling with his zipper and begging him to let you come on his dick. he just tilted his head, wanting you to beg more, and more. eventually he gave in, motioning for you to turn around again before he pulled his dick out and pulled you back onto him. he was practically splitting you in half, stretching you out and filling you up.

"you feel that, honey? feel better than your fingers, doesn't it?"

"mmhm.."

"mmhm.. that's right.."

the way he was mixing slow grinds with hard snaps of his hips was sending you over the edge, making you come once, then twice before he's grunting and pulling out to come over your ass. his hands are gripping tight on your waist as he exhales, sighing out deeply.

"can we do this again?"

"you already want more?"

"please.."

you had stood up on shaky feet in front of him now, hands grabbing at his t-shirt. he gripped your chin with one hand and the other was round the back of your neck.

"you got yourself addicted, baby.."

"mmhm.. but so did you.."

"still hate me?"

"maybe.. a little.."

he just smirked, letting go of your chin to shove himself back inside his pants. he just continued with moving your room around while you lay on your stomach on your bed. when he was finally done, you knelt up on your bed while he stood in front of you.

"once more before i go back home?"

you just wrapped your arms around his neck and let him lift your legs up and around his waist. you can both act like you hate each other, but when the sex is this good, you might just end up hating him a little less than before.

[tkblythofficial]

TAROT PART 2 - 03 Feb 2024

Part 3 will be up soon! She’s making the notes and details too :) I love Tarot 2.0! She’s amazing!

* Entertainment purposes only *

Me: People love your rant on T. You didn’t hold back.

Tarot 2.0: I don’t like or care about these people so my opinion is my opinion. T is selfish to me. He’s goofy and good hearted but there’s an underlying cunning and sly nature to him particularly about things he thinks he’s right about. He’s such an Aquarius man. He points fingers at everyone else except himself. When things blow up in his face, he’s quick to either run or place blame elsewhere. It pisses me off tbh. Sorry, I know he’s your celebrity crush of the week or whatever but he needs to grow up too. In all my readings he thinks R is immature and too intense for him right now but he’s immature with dealing with his feelings. Like okay? You’re attracted to R so you deny it because you’re in a relationship? You should’ve kept it professional from the beginning to avoid this. But deciding to kiss her during rehearsal knowing you felt more is shitty. You weren’t thinking about BB when he had your tongue down R’s throat. You weren’t thinking of BB when you were in your bed with your dick in your hand while R and J had sex in her trailer—

Me: Girl…WHAT?

Tarot 2.0: I don’t give a fuck! Moving on, now I understand why he’s running from R (she's a little crazy imo) but refusing to talk to someone and hurting their feelings isn’t the right way to go about things. He triggered her by saying she needed to be professional over kissing her. How does the make any fucking sense? You had a great kiss which meant something. He knows that people called her unprofessional during the hate campaign so he knew he was hurting her by saying that. All of this over a kiss? He’s losing his mind because he’s trying to be respectful of BB (what a fucking joke, too late dude!) and she’s crying with her bf beside her because T hurt her badly. R can’t express what’s wrong with her to J, the dumbass, who’s stuck on stupid. She’s crying on his shoulder and J doesn’t know what’s wrong. R and T are nuts!

Me: Oh.

Tarot 2.0: I need a drink.

Me: ANYWAYS! T is a good lover? Condoms? Tarot 2.0 stop! We need details!

Tarot 2.0: I keep pulling the Lovers and Knight of Wands cards for him. It’s the ultimate good in bed type of card. It’s at least 7 and thick! Snow lands on top!

Me: …What?

Tarot 2.0: 7 inches of pound town! Thick and creamy like buttermilk.

Me: :0

Tarot 2.0: :)

How did R feel about the kiss?

Pulled: Eight of Cups (reversed)

Tarot 2.0: R has such sad energy, I feel sorry for her. If she were a Barbie doll, I would throw her away. She’s in a relationship but very lonely. She knows this relationship with J is bad but refuses to be alone. She’s emotionally immature. I agree with T on this but he’s the reason why she’s clinging onto this trash relationship. If T talked to her after the kiss, she wouldn’t feel the need to cling more to J. It’s funny in a way. T did the opposite of his goal, he pushed R closer to J because of his kiss reaction. He told her to move and be professional? So guess what? She ran into her bf’s arms and J once again saved her! A sad cycle she’s in. But the kiss was toe curling and she thinks it’s one sided. Yikes!

How did T feel about the kiss?

Pulled: King of Cups

Tarot 2.0: What a little bitch! His ass is feeling like a king after kissing R! Meanwhile she’s lonely and felt isolated after the snowbaird kiss because he told her it didn’t mean anything. His Aquarius selfishness is coming through strong here. However, I hate to admit it but this is a great card for R. It means T is dedicated and loyal. Also it usually represents an older man since kings tend to be older and more experienced. Something that she wants. A King is very charming and a great partner to have. It’s kind of a good thing he shut down things? Because he’s trying to be loyal to his gf despite his growing feelings for R.

Why didn’t R leave T after he hurt her feelings?

Pulled: Seven of Wands (reversed)

Tarot 2.0: not surprising with this girl. She’s trying not to let T affect her or her relationship. She’s blaming herself for thinking too much about the kiss. Poor girl doesn’t realize that T made her feel bad on purpose. She feels guilty because she didn’t protect her feelings or J. She carries a huge burden from this and is very self critical over it. So she doesn’t blame T for his reaction, she thinks he reacted appropriately and she was being delusional. She’s very delusional but not about this. I wish I could tell her that but she’s a love struck idiot when it comes to J.

More importantly, R and T are magnetic. They can’t let each other go no matter what. R would rather have T in her life than not at all. She’s very possessive of him and holding on tightly. She’s been hurt before so while it stings, she still loves T dearly.

What draws R to T?

Pulled: Page of Wands

Tarot 2.0: oh wow *speechless*

Me: what?

Tarot 2.0: She loves him a lot. Now I feel bad for going off on him slightly.

Me: Really? You love going off on people!

Tarot 2.0: I do but he truly brings her a lot of joy. He’s very exciting to her and passionate. He makes her feel alive. That's how deep of a connection she has to him. It’s overwhelming. Her energy lights up when talking about T. I understand why she overlooked him hurting her. A few days of pain doesn’t take away from the months of pure joy he brought her.

What draws T to R?

Pulled: Queen of Swords

Clarification card: Ace of Pentacles

Tarot 2.0: oh lord. He thinks she’s strong. He admires her resilience through adversity and her compassion. He respects her a lot and thinks she’s the best thing that’s happened to his career so far! He’s so glad he’s met her. She’s truly a positive influence on his life. They also share common interests! I’m see long and fulfilling conversations with these two! They clicked immediately. Yin and yang feelings here.

How does J feel about R?

Pulled: Three of Cups (reversed)

Clarification cards: Four of Cups and Queen of Wands (reversed)

Tarot 2.0: oh he’s not as dumb as I thought! Still dumb, poor thing but not as dumb! He knows about R and T’s hidden feelings and it made him pull away slightly. However, he’s happy Zeglyth is over with now and is ready to move on and start fresh with R possibly. But he’s very burdened by her too so he’s debating if he'll let her go eventually. I agree with him here actually. He’s not a therapist! Sure your partner should be there for you emotionally but he carries a lot of her emotional distress which makes him distressed and tired of dealing with it. The project he’s doing now is a much needed break from her. Sounds harsh but it may have rejuvenated his feelings for her when he gets back.

What would happen if R and T dated? What does all hell break loose mean here?

Pulled: Ace of Swords

Clarification cards: Two of Swords and The Star

Tarot 2.0: Ah, I see it! Okay. So if they get together, a lot of people will be hurt. Exes, friends, family because it’s basically like “I knew they would get together, they lied to us when we asked them about it”. They would face a lot of scrutiny. People would accuse them of cheating and being deceitful. Two swords suggesting either R or T will leave their partner and choose each other which is a painful decision. The first few months of Zeglyth dating will be rocky as hell. However, the star tells me everything will be okay after a while! They will heal and move on!

What is the secret between R and T?

Pulled: Nine of cups

Tarot 2.0: these two are hilarious! They dodged my question and their energy shifted immediately. Whatever secret it is, they really don’t want me to know. But I still pulled a love card here. How interesting is that??? Whatever the secret is, they’re happy about it! Distant but happy! It really connected them. Usually when I have blocks on secrets it’s because of childhood trauma (so the secret has been buried for so long!) or it’s a hidden secret or inside joke between the couple. It may be an unspoken secret between them. Perhaps they didn’t talk about it but they know about it? Does that make sense? Like a secret can be shared information or you can look at someone and know exactly what they're thinking without using words? I think that’s what’s happening here. They have an inside joke of some kind and the rest of us want to laugh but they won’t share the joke. I hate these two. I want to fucking laugh. Tell me the secret, bitch!

Explain the kiss! Shoving tongue down each other’s throat? Moaning and grinding? What the hell?

Pulled: Six of Wands

Tarot 2.0: what a card to pull at this question. Spark flew! They felt on top of the world during their kiss. Whew. They are very successful together. A power couple. Turning heads and thriving in attractiveness. A lot of raw energy and emotion is overflowing at this question. No wonder T is spooked. That’s actually scary. Meeting someone and having a life changing kiss. Okay. Now I feel bad for really criticizing him earlier. He’s trying to be a good boyfriend to BB but that’s a type of kiss he wasn’t expecting. I sympathize with both of them god damn. Being in a relationship and a kiss changing everything is very painful. The guilt is eating them alive. I see why T hurt her feelings. It wasn’t the right thing to do but I understand why he was very harsh about it. He could have handled it better but they needed a reality check at that moment. And he’s sorta of right? They should be professional about this. The kiss wasn’t professional and they needed to remain focused. J was on set too. Disaster avoided and movie saved! No scandal. I see his vision now.

-

she’s currently doing the notes for:

How does T feel about R and J’s relationship?

Is it possible R and T ever get together?

What is the future between T and BB?

How does R currently feel about T?

How does T currently feel about R?

What T date someone else besides BB and R?

Will R fully heal mentally and emotionally?

Are they actually friends? Is it PR? Are the feelings romantic or just attraction?

What about will R’s career be like in the future?

What about will T’s career be like in the future?

What will T and R be 5 years from now?