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#would kill everyone in the room and then himself in anything happened to them
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Out of darkness - Chapter Twelve: Into the Darkness - Alastor x human!fem!reader
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Words: ~2400 TW: none.
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This little charade went on for two more years. Two more years in which they pretended to be a normal, perfect couple whenever they were watched. Two more years of lies and hope that maybe one day everything will return to normal. But it didn’t.
Sometimes, parts of the Alastor she knew showed up, soft gestures and words making her let her guard down. But as much as he tried to make her accept the other side of him, it always made her shiver in fear before him. It was a never-ending cycle, one that consumed their patience, pushing them further apart than they already were.
Her eyes only looked at him in fear or regret, her hands no longer touched him with the same warmth and softness they once did. And despite his attempts to ignore the situation, it was killing him more than he liked to admit.
They both succumbed to different things – he made more deals, tricked more demons, hoping than this would at least help him blow off some steam, and (Y/n) engrossed herself in a new job, barely coming home anymore.
But by the end of those two years, his presence didn’t bother her anymore, not as much at least. His shadows kept her company whenever he was looking for new deals in Hell, helping her with different chores or comforting her when the pressure of the situation became too much.
It became a routine for both, ignoring the bottled feelings they had inside – fear, frustration, anger… They were all forgotten into something they both now called normal. It was normal for him to watch her cook, jazz music blasting in the living room, asking her about her work, only to be met with dry answers. Despite his attempts to seem uninterested, he almost missed the silly gossip she used to share before everything went downhill.
It was normal for her to sit down next to him, writing down new deals in that notebook – something she later understood was a weird way of him trying to make her grow accustomed to this life, maybe preparing her for the eternity she had to face one day.
That was normal. For Alastor it was enough – frustrating, but enough. It was enough when she barely raised her eyes to look at him, something she used to fear before. His body froze, whenever their fingers would brush against each other when she would hand him a cup of coffee. This was enough for him too. Everything was enough, but not beyond that. Because if it was, they wouldn’t spend the nights in different rooms, making him choose to spend most of them back in Hell, rather than there. If it was, he wouldn’t find himself pulling chunks of hair whenever she smiled more because of his shadows rather than because of him. But it was enough – enough for him not to kill her for the torment he’s going through. Enough for him to question his sanity every day because he was disgusted by what he was doing.
It was enough for him to believe he cared – enough to scare the shit out of him because how could this happen to him?
And everything was just enough, until he disappeared. For the first time after two years, (Y/n) found herself alone again – no shadows, no trace of him, no nothing. She didn’t question anything, a normal thing for him, leaving aside the fact that her shadowy “friends” were gone too. He was going to return at some point. He always did.
Days passed, then weeks, and eventually months. Months and he was nowhere to be seen. Her belief that he would return slowly crumbled by the nagging idea that this was the end of it. And somehow, this made (Y/n) feel sick to her stomach.
Her hatred towards him somehow grew because how could he do this? How could he leave her like that - fucked up and torn to pieces? How could he leave her after everything she went through because of him?
Everyone questioned her – where was him? What happened? Did they break up? And what could she say? She told them the truth, well part of it at least: that he was a monster, a horrible lying bastard who only made her suffer because of his sick fantasies of normalcy. That he left her in ruins, without any last words to deal with the damage he caused. Because how could she protect him anymore?
She immersed herself more in her work, even becoming sick because of the stress and being forced to take a break, which only made her suffer more. Without a distraction, the house seemed so cold and empty. The soft humming that once sent shivers down her spine was now gone, making room for torturous thoughts to settle in – why did he leave?
The question was buried in her head, as she found herself cooking jambalaya once again, while jazz music blasted in the living room. Why was she doing this? How many times does she have to ask herself the same questions repeatedly? She felt lonely, paranoic of every sound and creak that echoed in the quiet apartment. He destroyed her life once again, and he wasn’t even present to do so. The idea she might miss the little idea of normalcy they created was painful enough.
Night after night she spent looking at the ceiling, the feeling of vulnerability keeping her awake, despite the heavy eyelids. It was torture to think what could happen. Where was him? Was the deal still relevant to him? Did he even care anymore if she dies or not?
The decision to live back at her parents’ house for a while didn’t help too much either. Having someone again felt nice, but not when you constantly think of the things that might happen to them because of you. The constant questions about her relationship with Alastor didn’t help either. So, she found herself to be a prisoner in her apartment yet again – not directly to him anymore, but to the fate he put her through.
She closed her eyes from time to time, thinking. What if she ended it herself?
What if instead of waiting, she’d put an end to it herself? A decision she contemplated many times; Many times, when she stared at the pills in her fist, thinking what could happen. She would go to Hell – so what? She will go there sooner or later anyway because she made the deal. But if she does it, the contract will probably be broken because it would mean Alastor failed to protect her. So what then?
She contemplated this question whenever she stood at the edge of the bridge, the cool wind biting at her face. What exactly does Hell mean anyway? He told her stories from time to time – stories of the “associates” he had trapped within his deals. Stories of how he climbed the ladder in Hell, and even when he tried to leave away the gruesome details, she knew they were there. Alastor made it, but Alastor was cruel. Alastor was heartless. Of course he made it in Hell. Would she be able to do it?
But if she doesn’t do it, what if demons will come after her? Surely, she wasn’t the only one mad at him. The memories of the night she was attacked grew clearer each day, and the pain of those claws piercing her skin resurfaced whenever she looked at the scars. What could stop other demons from coming after her? And what would she do if Alastor failed to show up on time?
Shadows flickered in the corners of her vision sometimes—just beyond what was natural. Every gust of wind, every creak in the floorboards made her feel exposed, as if unseen eyes were watching her. The realization that she needed Alastor, despite the fear and hatred, gnawed at her insides. His threats about how easily they could break her no longer felt like distant warnings—they felt real. Every day without him only made her feel more vulnerable, as if the demons he once held at bay were inching closer, waiting for their chance. She might have hated him; he might have been a monster – but she needed him. He was her only twisted salvation in the situation she found herself in and she hated it - that in the end, she was always somehow dragged back to him.
Alastor sucked her into his world – a world of darkness, a world of pain and suffering. But if she couldn’t get out, she had to face it. She had to learn to live in it and try to survive instead of wait for her unavoidable ending. And the only way she could thrive was him – lost, but she was willing to find him. If not for them, at least for herself alone.
(Y/n) quickly found herself spiraling deeper into a dark world, diving into books about the occult, demonology, and spells—anything that could help her figure out how to protect herself. But it wasn’t enough. Knowing about these things wasn’t going to cut it; she had to be able to fight them. So, she learned—self-defense, tactical knife training, shooting. As time went on, she started feeling more prepared, more capable of defending herself against whatever was out there.
She was desperate to find him, her only promise of protection, but no matter how many times she rummaged through his things, nothing seemed to lead to Alastor. But there was also something else bothering her – the music box Alastor gave her was gone too. She tore the apartment apart searching for it—under the bed or in drawers she hadn’t opened in months. Every creak and groan of the house felt like it was mocking her as she searched. It was there. It had to be. The longer it remained missing, the heavier the dread settled in her stomach. The music box wasn’t just gone—it had been taken. And she hated it. More than she liked to admit even. It irked her terribly that the last thing reminding her of the man she once loved, the man that was here for her before “the real Alastor” appeared, was now gone too.
The ring on her finger seemed to burn through her skin, making her heart burn and ache as it shattered in millions of pieces yet again. Was he dead?
She wanted to hate him—truly, she did. The thought of him still haunting her made her sick, but when she closed her eyes at night, the emptiness he left behind was worse. It’s not just the deal. Why does it always come back to him? Her hands clenched, but no matter how hard she tried to push him away in her mind, something kept pulling her back. It was something that turned her insides upside down, that made her believe he fucked her up so bad that her mind was broken beyond repair.
Seven years. For the first time in seven years, his absence hurt her.
And for the first time in seven years since he disappeared, the name she was so desperately looking for echoed in her ears – Alastor. The sounds of the restaurant she found herself in when it happened quickly became muffled, just mere whispers compared to that name. Her heartbeat stopped as her mind froze.
With heavy steps she approached his table, his concentration from the conversation on the phone suddenly shifting towards her. She felt like an insane person, and maybe she was, but there was no way she would back down now.
“I’ll call you later, Bob…” the man said and hung up, making her shiver a bit in anticipation. “May I help you?” he asked, a polite, but obvious cautious smile on his face.
“You… You know Alastor?” she finally asked, her voice barely steady. The tremor in her hands betrayed her effort to stay calm, and she clenched them into fists, ready to turn and leave if the man didn’t react the way she expected. The man stuttered in shock, not really expecting this reaction. His mind raced with questions – who was her? How did she know Alastor? He quickly regained his composure, letting out an awkward laugh.
“Yeah, yeah… He’s, um… He’s my brother. He disa-“
“No.” (Y/n) said quickly, taken aback herself by her own actions, but something inside her didn’t want to accept it. Something inside her wanted it to be the Alastor she was looking for.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” the man asked, his body stiffening a bit.
“Look…” she sighed, taking a pause before speaking again. “You have all the rights to believe I’m insane… Because this will sound…” she looked away, trying to think. “I need your help…”
The man’s heart stopped, something in her eyes giving away her desperation. He’s seen this look before. The look of a person who had nothing else to lose.
“Why?” he asked.
“I know Alastor is not your brother…” she looked around, making sure no one is listening before she lowered her voice. “You made a deal with him, too?” The man’s eyes widened at the question, instinctively double checking his surroundings, something that told her the theory wasn’t so far-fetched. “I can help you find him…”
“Please, we shouldn’t discuss this here.”
“Are you a demon too?”
“Stop!” the man commanded, his voice a bit harsher than he would’ve wanted to. A few people looked towards them, and he quickly looked away, not wanting to draw more attention. He leaned in closer, his voice low as the people around them returned to their business. “Are you hunting or something?”
(Y/n) looked at him confused. “Hunting… what?” she asked a bit nervously. The man leaned back, the whole situation not sitting right with him. “What are you hunting?”
The air suddenly felt so hard to breath, none of them knowing what to expect. After some good minutes of silence, the man finally found the courage to speak again.
”You’re not a hunter, are you?”
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Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xghostnuggsx @vxllys
@ustulia @n0tmentallystable @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @alastorthirsty
@l3rittany @catticora @sirens-and-moonflowers @xalygatorx
@princessvampxx @lafy-taffy @mo-0-o @cinnamon-galaxies
@martinys-world @91062854-ka @darkovergrownforestnymph @constellationguy
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n-i-m-u-e · 21 hours
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The fucking absolutely wonderful cat! pt. 2
a few people here have asked about a sequel to this, and it's kind of, although it's not really a sequel to the Sir Pum story (sorry!), but rather a prequel from Luke's point of view (hence the stylistic difference with the first part) anyway-
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The thing is, Luke wasn’t used to being alone. Life at Dragonstone was always bustling—he had training sessions with Jace and Daemon (even it weren’t very successful), lessons with maester Gerardys (much more successful), walks in the garden with Rhaena, and games of hide-and-seek with Joffrey (if he was persistent enough). He read to Aegon and Viserys (when he wanted to avoid active conversation), helped his mother with letters (she always praised his handwriting), and flew with Arrax (constantly losing track of time)…
He had never been alone.
And now everything had changed.
Now Luke was locked in the Red Keep; he was a prisoner, not free to go wherever he pleased or fly all day. He missed everyone terribly. And he was alone. In the first weeks, he didn’t see anyone except for the servants, who brought full trays of food twice a day and, almost just as full, took them away.
Everything began to change after that horrible incident with Helaena and the twins.
In the pre-dawn hour, Luke woke to footsteps and loud shouting in the corridor outside his door. The words were hard to make out, but even half-asleep, he unmistakably recognized the voices belonging to two people. Aegon was shouting, his voice trembling with rage, while the second voice responding to him seemed remarkably calm—it belonged to Aemond. This went on for several minutes, during which Luke tried to stifle his breath to catch any part of their argument, but the walls were too thick, and the door was locked, as always. It was clear that this was not an ordinary sibling quarrel, especially since they wouldn’t come to argue right outside his room in the middle of the night. Eventually, the voices began to fade away - Luke could not make out anything - and the boy could only toss and turn in bed until dawn in his anxious thoughts, sometimes falling into slumber.
That morning, at the usual hour, the door opened—the silent servants who usually brought Luke breakfast and warm water for washing entered, but the door didn’t close behind them, as a moment later, another person entered.
Aemond appeared in the room—calm, unflinching, and standing very straight with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression completely detached and cold. He waited until the servants set down the staff and left, shutting the door behind them. They were alone, and this was their first meeting since Luke had been locked away here.
“Last night, there was an attack on Helaena and the children,” Aemond stated, stubbornly ignoring Luke’s gaze and looking directly over his head.
Luke blinked in shock, as he didn’t immediately grasp the meaning of what he had just heard.
“What… Who?…”
“Your mother, apparently. Or Daemon… They sent people who attacked them, wounding Helaena and nearly killing Jaehaerys.”
“No… Mom would never order that…”
“Maybe not, but it was easier for them to get to my sister than to you.”
It seemed now Luke realized the reason for the shouts that had woken him earlier that morning. Of course, Aegon was furious. If something had happened to his son, it was unlikely Luke would have survived either. For a moment, Lucerys felt an irrational guilt that the people clearly sent by his parents to fetch him instead chose to threaten the most innocent—Helaena and her children—in this dreadful place. He had to remind himself that he was here against his will, and if it weren’t for his crazy uncle, the same one who so stubbornly refused to look him in the eye now, no one would have been attacked.
“I…”
“The palace guard has been doubled. And your guard, too. I personally chose the men for this.”
Luke understood this was a warning, but he wasn’t trying to escape anyway, even though perhaps he should have. But it was him—seemingly, he was indeed the coward Aemond undoubtedly thought him to be.
“How is Helaena? How—”
“You’ll ask her yourself. She’s been asking about meeting you from the start. My mother and I… decided it wouldn’t hurt. You can have lunch together… or something like that.”
With that, his uncle, with an uncharacteristic haste, left Luke, who didn’t even have time to open his mouth to ask anything else.
From that day on, Luke's routine improved a bit. He began to see Helaena and the little ones regularly. They walked together in the garden after breakfast every day, and those moments brought Luke a sense of normalcy. His silent aunt was much better company than the chaotic swirl of sad thoughts in his head. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera reminded him of Aegon and little Vyserys, though they were much quieter children than his younger brothers. Sometimes he also visited the library—of course, under the watchful eye of the guards—but he could choose books he liked on his own. For some reason, these were usually the poetry collections loved by Rhaena or the same fairy tales he had read to Aeg and Vis.
There was another change, the strangest one. For some unknown reason, he now also saw Aemond almost daily. No, all of his uncle’s visits had some logical reason: checking on Luke’s guard, relaying some minor news, or simply claiming 'had some free time to see my nephews'. Luke hadn’t considered himself among the latter until one day, Helaena, without looking up from her embroidery and with a dreamy smile, remarked in her soft, quiet voice:
“I welcome this wonderful change, brother. It’s nice that a man who recently found solace only in swords and books is now getting much more joy from living company.”
Aemond mumbled something unintelligible in response to her words, then nearly left the garden in a rush. However, Helaena didn’t seem flustered. Even more, as far as Luke could tell, his aunt seemed somewhat amused.
“He’s so confused. Give him a time, Lucerys.”
Luke was also confused but didn’t ask her what she meant. Helaena often spoke in riddles and rarely answered direct questions.
And yet, every time Aemond was nearby, a strange tension hung in the air. At first, it was because Luke instinctively tensed up—after all, this was the same man who had captured and imprisoned him here. But later, when Luke, with surprise and disbelief, realized that his uncle’s presence was becoming less unwelcome, that in some ways—even more than his time with Helaena—it eased the loneliness that had haunted him in the early days at the Red Keep, the tension took on a different color.
Because from time to time, when they accidentally forgot about the awkwardness that usually lay between them, they ended up having quite interesting conversations. And, to his secret delight, Luke discovered that he knew Valyrian far better than his uncle. At first, he almost couldn’t resist teasing him—just like he would with Jace when his brother made a mistake in pronunciation or mixed up words. But then a memory of that fateful dinner surfaced, and what his careless attempt to provoke his uncle into “contact”—as he usually did when Jace became overly and unbearably serious—had led to. Luke had somehow assumed that Aemond, who appeared so strong and unshakable, wouldn’t be truly bothered by his foolish mockery. He should have known better—he didn’t.
But the most wonderful thing, if such a sentiment could be expressed regarding anything about Luke’s time here, happened after he met the cat.
He knew from the maids that Aegon had executed all the castle's rat catchers because one of those who had attacked Helena was allegedly a rat catcher. Well, if anyone benefited from this, it was the rats. So on Sir Otto's orders, several dozen cats were brought to the castle. And from the moment Luke was allowed to leave his chambers, he noticed small, fluffy shadows in the corridors out of the corner of his eye. But none of the animals approached him. Until one stormy morning.
The weather had been raging since late in the evening, and Luke didn't really want to wake up. Because bad weather meant that he and Hel would not go to the garden, it meant that he was unlikely to leave his room at all today.
Through his sleep, Luke felt a strange, warm weight on his legs. At first, before he was fully awake, he thought he was just tangled in the blanket, but after a moment he realized that the weight was suspiciously “alive.” Sitting up on his elbows, Lucerys saw that a large cat was lying on the edge of the bed, right on his feet, calmly licking his paw. Luke froze, looking at the strange visitor.
The cat was large and massive, with long reddish fur, a lush mustache, and one eye. And that eye, a deep green crystal, looked at Luke intently, showing neither fear nor curiosity.
Luke slowly sat down and, just as slowly, moved his legs out from under the cat. The cat didn't move, only lazily raised its head, as if assessing whether this sudden movement was worthy of attention.
“Where did you come from?” Luke muttered, trying to cope with the morning hoarseness in his voice and his own surprise.
The cat only moved its ears a little. There was something soothing about the creature, something that reminded Luke of home, even though they had never had a cat there. And though the cat was a far cry from a dragon, its presence was surprisingly comforting, and a bit like how Arrax had felt.
Luke tried to gently reach out to pet the animal, “Well, the cat didn't lose its eye because of you, so it's unlikely to overreact to an attempt to get close,” he thought ironically, but stopped when he considered the wild look in its single eye and the sharp claws he had already noticed.
“Okay, okay. Then I won't touch you,” he calmed quietly and lowered his hand back down.
Suddenly, the creature jumped onto the bed next to him and rolled over. Luke stared in surprise. The cat was looking at him with the same calm gaze, now more inviting, and he saw a playful twinkle in its eye.
“You mean I can?” - he asked timidly, and the cat immediately rolled over on its side, exposing its furry belly. Luke still touched the soft fur lightly.
The cat did not move away or run away. On the contrary, having sniffed Luceris' hand, he purred softly in response to the light stroking and lay down on his (licked) forelegs. As he buried his fingers in the warm and soft fur, the boy suddenly felt a tingling tenderness. It was nice to have someone around who didn't care who Luke was.
As he continued to pet the animal, the young prince allowed himself to smile - this quiet interaction with this creature, for the first time in a long time, made his morning almost happy.
“Will you stay?” Luke asked in a whisper, not expecting an answer. The cat just yawned and stretched out on the bed, taking up even more space.
That was the answer.
I had time to write only late night, so there are definitely mistakes here somewhere, and if you can point it out or maybe just want to say me something else, I will be grateful :)
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monofazz · 1 year
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Me when Spamton NEO so ✨️✨️
More under the cut [cw for exposed bone (no blood)]
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I like Spamton NEO being fucked up but also being the most guy ever
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simplyholl · 1 month
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Filthy
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Summary: After a long mission, Bucky needs you.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY.
See my Masterlist Here
"Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" Your sweet voice replayed over and over in his mind. He hadn't flat out refused your offer, but he hadn't said yes either. Now as he laid under the rubble of the bomb Hydra had detonated, it was all he could think of.
You were friends, one of the only people besides Steve to make him feel welcome on the Avengers. The others were wary of him, and he didn’t blame them. He had done unforgivable things as The Winter Soldier. Now he was fighting for the right cause. He couldn't help the reoccurring nightmares of the horrors he encountered in his past. He didn't want to get too comfortable in his new life, the one Steve helped him obtain because he was scared The Winter Soldier was still lurking around in his brain somewhere.
That's why he never dated. Sam would tease him, telling him he could have anybody he wanted, but he settled for his hand every night. Bucky couldn't afford to get too close to anyone. Especially someone who was weaker than him like the opposite sex. He was scared he would lose control while being intimate and hurt or even kill his partners. So he never let anyone get too close, until you.
You came bouncing into his life unexpectedly. You were brought on the team shortly after him. He would never forget your first day. Steve introduced you to everyone at the morning meeting. You were all smiles, your bubbly personality instantly drawing him in. The others were making comparisons between the two of you immediately. You were so happy, so upbeat all the time and Steve was the only one who could get Bucky to crack his cold exterior and actually smile.
Despite your differences, you got along great. Which was a bonus since Tony liked to pair you together for missions. You worked well together, complimenting each other in ways you had never thought of. Who knew almost dying together every week can cause you to form close bonds? You were spending all your free time together. You introduced him to your favorite films, some of them were awful, but he would never tell you that. You would stay up late together watching old reruns of 90's sitcoms for comfort after long missions. Bucky would go shopping with you, holding every bag you had and never complaining.
The team thought something was going on between you. Why else would the cold super soldier follow you around like a lost puppy? They put Steve up to asking about it, but Bucky denied anything but friendship. There had never been anything happen in the whole year you knew each other. You never sat too close or crossed any boundaries, never thought about it until a month ago.
One of the longest, most dangerous missions you had ever been on finally came to a close. There had been too many casualties and you were upset. Even the comfort of your warm pajamas and favorite movie didn't ease your mind. Bucky thought you needed to be alone, so he told you goodnight and headed for his room. You called after him pleading him to stay with you. You couldn't be alone, not after that.
He hesitated, he never stayed the night with anyone because of his nightmares. Tony even gave him a pass when a mission required room sharing. He was the only one who didn't have to pair up. He was afraid he might hurt you or scare you during his sleep. He tried to tell you, but you couldn't be swayed. He found himself under your fluffy pink comforter on heart shaped pillows, surrounded by a mountain of stuffed animals but he felt oddly at home.
You tried to cuddle up to him, but he scooted away. He didn't want you too close to him while he was asleep just in case he had a nightmare. But you didn't care. You told him if he attacked you in his sleep, you would blast his dick off. That made him a little less worried. "How do Tony and Clint do it?" You asked as you wrapped your arms around him, trying to snuggle the grumpy super soldier. "Do what?" He relaxed a little under your touch. "The whole normal family thing. They have a wife, kids, the works, and they are the only ones. The rest of us can't keep a relationship for more than a month, and some only do one night stands. It's hard being a hero when you have to give up stuff like that."
Bucky considers your words carefully. "Is that something you want?" You throw your leg over him, trying to get comfortable. "Eventually, I want to settle down. I'm thinking at least ten years from now, not any time soon. It's just hard to tell who is asking you out for the right reasons or because you're famous. I can't tell you how many phones I've destroyed after dates because they were trying to live stream the whole thing. Is that why you don't date?"
Bucky tenses, explaining how his past as The Winter Soldier scared him away from anything like that. "So you haven't been having sex because you're scared you will hurt someone?" He nods and you giggle. Bucky looks at you like you've grown a second head. "I'm sorry Bucky, that's ridiculous. Your arm must be so tired! Oh my God! Do you use the metal one?" His silence makes you laugh harder. "Bucky there are super powered women you could have been sleeping with this whole time. People who could at least put up a fair fight if something like that happened, but you're okay now right? I thought the code words didn't work anymore." You rub his back soothingly.
You gasp as an idea hits you. "Would it be too crazy if we slept together?" It was like word vomit. You didn't mean to say it out loud, but you couldn't take it back now. Bucky is so still that you think he's fallen asleep. Thankful he didn't hear your unhinged suggestion, you lay your head down to go to sleep.
"You mean that?" Bucky asks after a few minutes of silence pass. "If it wouldn't hurt our friendship then, why not? I trust you. And I could hold my own if things went sideways. Plus, I'm a lot hotter than your hand, you have to admit that." The quip earned a chuckle from him. "Can I think about it?" He asks, his seriousness taking over. "Of course." You snuggle back into him, sleep finding you more quickly than you would've liked. That was a little over a month ago, neither of you brought it up afterward. You figured he didn't want to hurt your feelings, so you let it go.
Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand helping him to his feet. "I thought we lost you back there." He says leading him to the quinjet. On the ride home, Bucky thought about his life, how unhappy he had been lately. He thought of you and how he kept you at arm's length to protect you from himself. You were always so open to him, always letting him know what was on your mind. When you suggested the two of you sleep together, he was shocked. Of course, he wanted to but he couldn't. You were too sweet, he was jaded. He would end up hurting you somehow, he was sure of it. But you weren't scared of him, you trusted him.
Bucky thought of all the times he laid alone at night, masterbating when he could have went home with someone instead. He always turned them down, he couldn't risk it. He lived too dangerously. He could lose his life any moment saving the planet from the next alien attack. Wasn't it time he started living for himself? He had his mind made up when the quinjet landed. Steve told him to go get the cuts on his face and arm examined but he ignored him.
He almost ran to the elevator, not bothering to wait for Steve to get on before pressing the button to shut the doors. When it finally stopped on his floor, he walked by his room, stopping three doors down right outside of yours. He should have cared that it was three in the morning, that he would be waking you up, but he didn't. He tapped on the door loud enough to wake you.
He regretted coming straight here as he waited for you, he should have went to his room to shower first. His leather jacket was dirty and torn. There was a small gash on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. His face was filthy and according to Steve, he had a cut there too. He probably looked terrifying. He thought about leaving to clean up, but then he heard the pitter patter of your feet as you approached the door.
You pull it open slightly at first, to see who is outside, opening it wider when you see him. He steps inside as you shut it back, locking it behind him. Bucky looks around the dark room noticing the glow from your tv. Your hair is messy, you must have been sleeping fitfully. His gaze drops to your body, you're wearing a black t-shirt that stops at your hips and black lace panties.
"Are you okay?" You ask taking in his disheveled appearance. You turn to get something to clean his wounds, his vibranium hand catches your wrist. "Bucky? What hap-" He picks you up with one arm, holding you close to his body as his lips crash into yours. He walks you to the edge of your bed, tumbling on top of you as your back hits your fluffy pink comforter.
"Do you still want this?" He asks, his voice rougher than he intended. You can't think clearly, not with him on top of you, caging you in like this. His blue eyes search your face as he waits for an answer. Your panties grow wetter with each second that passes. Your nipples are peaked under your shirt, desperate to be touched as you press your chest to his dirty leather jacket. "Yes" You somehow manage to whisper your confirmation.
His mouth is on yours again, rough and demanding, almost desperate. You cup his face with your hands, "Slow down, I'm not going anywhere." You assure him, breaking the kiss. He groans, hating the loss of contact. "Can't" He rasps, his face nuzzling against your neck. He nips and kisses the sensitive skin there, his tongue licking from your shoulder to your jaw.
His flesh hand travels to your chest, rubbing his thumb over your clothed nipple. He keeps kissing his way back down your throat until he reaches the collar of your shirt. His metal arm grabs the top, slipping underneath to get a good grip on it. He rips it down the center with little effort.
You gasp as the cold air hits your now exposed chest. But you're not cold for long, Bucky's lips capture a nipple between his lips tugging and sucking like his life depends on it while his flesh hand toys with the other one. You're not sure what has gotten into him, you never expected it to be like this, like he needs you.
He kisses a trail down your stomach to your panties. They aren't exactly see through, but they don't hide anything either. His vibranium fingers dig into your hip as he lowers his face, his pink tongue licking up the center of your soaked panties. You whimper underneath him, your fingers sliding in his hair, pulling at the short strands.
He grunts as he licks you through the lacy material. You try to close your legs around his head, hoping to bring yourself more relief. Bucky's steel grip on your hip tightens as he brings his flesh hand to your thigh, pulling it off him. He opens you wide, continuing his desperate assault on you. "I need more, please." You whine, needing to actually feel him against you.
He thankfully takes mercy on you, removing his hands to grab both sides of your panties. "Lift your hips for me." You do as your told, and he slides the unwanted garment off of you. He drags you to the edge of the bed, lowering himself on his knees in front of you. He parts your thighs, metal hand returning to its rightful place on your hip. You place your leg over his shoulder, taking a deep breath as the anticipation makes your skin prickle.
His hot breath on your soaked core makes you tremble. You feel him smirk against you. "I havent even touched you yet and you're shakin' like a leaf." A dark chuckle escapes him and he dives in. His tongue flat against you as he gathers your slick, bringing it to your clit and swirling it around. He moans, loving the way you taste. He wraps his lips around your most sensitve part, drawing you in, causing your hips to buck upward.
His grip on your hip tightens, a bruise beginning to form under his thumb. "Be a good girl for me. Stay still." His voice is soft, gentle, a complete contrast to his actions. He alternates between sucking you roughly and licking you slowly. You squirm underneath him, you're so close. He suddenly stops, removing his face from you.
His flesh hand rubbing your stomach, before laying his arm on you forcefully to keep you from moving. "I said stay still." He growls, his tongue swiping your clit before he sucks it between his lips once more. It takes every ounce of concentration you have to not writhe against him. You've never seen him like this so needy, almost feral. He's like a wild animal slurping you down like you're the first thing he's eaten in weeks. You don't dare to disturb him. So you lie as still as you can, letting him have you.
He needs this. He needs you. He flicks his tongue expertly over your clit, sendng you spiralling. He holds you down as he takes all he wants from you. He's not satisfied until you come three times. Your legs are wobbly, you couldn't get up if you had to. Tears stream down your face from how intense it was. He finally stands, unbuttoning his pants, sliding them down just enough to free himself.
He adjusts himself between your legs, filling you up. You gasp, grabbing onto his grimy leather jacket for support. You wonder why he didn't bother with getting undressed, but you don't mind. You love how dirty he is. How the filth on his jacket rubbing against your bare chest is the sexiest thing in the world right now. How you can see the cut on his arm, dried blood on his sleeve. You don't know if it's his or some Hydra asshole's, and you don't know which is hotter.
His hair is disheveled. His face is scraped, dirt from the mission caked on him, remnants of your arousal still on his mouth. He fills you completely over and over, holding you as close as he can. His pants rub the back of your thighs as he pounds into you. You caress his face, "Can I be on top?" You ask quietly, afraid you'll offend him some way in his feral state. He flips you so his back is on your mattress. Normally you would be upset that your sheets were getting dirty, but you didn't mind at all. You place your legs on either side of him, sliding down his length. Your ass hits the fabric of his jeans as you take all of him.
You look behind you noticing how big he looks on your bed. His leather boots covered in mud, hanging off the edge. A gush of arousal floods his lap, his hands hold your thighs, pulling you closer. You begin to lift yourself up and down on him, your legs still shaky from your earlier orgasms. Bucky notices you won't be able to keep it up for long, so he clutches your hips, taking over. He thrusts underneath you, your hands land on his shoulders needing to steady yourself. You love that it's giving the illusion that you're in control, your body on top of his, but he's calling all the shots, moving your body like he owns it.
You've never felt so full. It's as if Bucky can read your mind, his flesh hand pressing on the bulge he's making in your stomach. He works you harder now, his vibranium thumb coming between you to swirl your clit. Your vision goes blurry, stars bursting behind your eyelids. You come with a loud cry of his name. He follows shortly after, spilling inside you. He holds you close, as you listen to his breathing slow down as he drifts off to sleep while still inside you.
Tags in the comments! ❤️
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yoditopascal · 1 month
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Cocoa Butter
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bodyguard! logan howlett x boss’ daughter reader
summary: He’s the best there is at what he does but what he does isn’t always very nice.
content warning: mutual pining, scenting, scent kink, age gap, size difference smut, p in v, slight innocence kink towards the end??, violent behavior (logan beats a guy up for you and it kinda turns you on), MINORS DNI
a/n: This was definitely inspired by that one gif of him from DOFP
Logan swore he wouldn't fall to his knees for a pretty little young thing like you. With your big doe eyes, soft curves and that cute little ass o’ yours that you always had wrapped up in those tiny little short shorts. He couldn’t, you were the boss’ daughter after all, but when you swayed your hips and batted your lashes at him like that… god was it tempting. You were just so inviting and deliciously sweet.
Like heaven wrapped in gold foil and lip gloss. Your dad’s guys used to joke to him about you, that is until he beat the shit outta one of them.
Now most of them don’t even make eye contact with you.
Good, he preferred it that way anyways.
His heart beat rapidly in his chest, the possessive streak he felt for you flaring up as he watched you converse with the guy at the bar that had been buying you drinks all night. The guy no doubt had no idea who you were, or who he was for that matter.
Five drinks in and he was practically itching for a fight, hoping that the motherfucker you were laughing with like he was the funniest bastard in the world would slip up and do something so he could take him out back and show him what happens when you mess with what’s his.
His.
You weren’t anyone’s you liked to remind him.
He knew you could handle yourself, you were more than capable of holding your own and you’ve told him plenty of times that he hovers too much, so why was he getting all antsy over this guy?
Logan swore he wasn’t a jealous person, never had a reason to be, until he met you, but watching everyone watching you for the past few hours while you smiled and laughed and danced like you didn’t give a shit about anything, had him ready to kill the next guy who breathed at you wrong.
Maybe it was the few drinks he had but he could have sworn he saw you look over at him a couple of times too.
Like you were doing this on purpose.
What he didn’t know was that he was the reason you were so confident and carefree. His presence alone was your peace. He was your scary dog privilege. It was nice to know that someone had you.
One of your dad’s men annoying you? He’ll handle it.
Some guy at the bar can’t take the hint? Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Logan’s got it.
He was your dad’s most trusted guy and he was the best there is at what he did and what he did? Well it wasn’t always very nice.
Ignoring the growing urge to go over there and drag you away, Logan throws back the rest of his drink, whiskey on the rocks, and flags the waitress in the black cocktail dress down for another.
Taking a drag from his cigar, the ones he’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to have in the club but who the fuck was brave enough to tell him he couldn’t have it, he tears his eyes away from scanning the room when he hears you.
Your voice is soft as you politely reject the guy, so soft you almost couldn’t hear it over the shitty music and the buzz of people in the crowd around him, if it wasn’t for his mutation.
Apparently this greasy ass clown can’t take the hint as his hand clamps down harshly around your wrist pulling you closer to him as you try to pull away.
He’s on his feet before he can register what he’s doing.
He tries to tell himself you’re totally capable of holding your own, you can snatch your arm away and tell the guy off yourself but when he sees the shit stain lean in to kiss you and raise a hand as if to strike you when you turn away, Logan is seeing red.
In the blink of an eye he’s already across the room dragging the guy off his stool and out the back. His fist meets his mouth first, teeth cutting the skin of his knuckles but he doesn’t care. Bone crunches on bone as Logan continues to beat the guy into an unrecognizable barely conscious mess.
He doesn’t stop until he feels your delicate hand brush up against his back, and he turns to look at you.
You stand behind him as he turns until you’re damn near chest to chest, pupils blown wide as your eyes bore up into him from below his chin. Even in your highest heels you still don’t quite reach him. The guy groans in pain from the ground beneath your feet but neither of you care, far too wrapped up in each other to even notice he’s still there bleeding out.
"Can't make my job easy, can ya kid?" He smirks down at you wiping at his nose with a bloody hand.
He goes to say something else but it catches in his throat when he catches a whiff of something in the air.
God he could smell you.
“You doin ok darlin’?” He asks, voice sultry as he leaned closer to you inhaling.
This is dangerous territory, he knows it and so do you but neither of you can bring yourselves to care in the moment. It’s one you’ve both been skating around for months now.
“Y-yeah I just-“ you start biting your lip as you lose yourself in thought for a second.
“You ready to take me home big guy?” You ask, still biting that god damn lip between your teeth as you look up at him through your lashes like you always did when you wanted something from him.
“Always.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you get to your apartment he’s already on you, not even giving you a chance to get through the door fully. His mouth carving a path from your neck to your mouth as he walks you backwards towards your room, pushing you down to the bed beneath you as he wraps himself around you.
He clings to you, hands grabbing your hips as he grinds himself into you, nuzzling his nose into your neck, taking in deep greedy draws of your scent. Shea and cocoa butter mixed with the tantalizing aroma of you. Always that goddamn cocoa butter. He could cover himself in your scent if he could and it still wouldn’t be enough for him.
You're a whiny squirming mess as he kisses up and down your neck, one of his hands squeezes at your tits. He’s barely touched you and could already smell how wet you were, just for him.
Pulling away Logan looks down at you, eyes half lidded as he strokes a calloused thumb over your soft swollen bottom lip.
You had dick sucking lips, one of the guys had told him his first week here. He shattered his bones with just his fists, now the guy walks with a limp.
He didn’t want the think about that now, not when your hands we’re tangling themselves in his shirt. With a latch he pulls his shirt over his head as he watches you fumble with his belt biting your lip. He leans down to take it in his mouth once more before he’s shedding himself of his pants and underwear pulling yours off with them.
He wraps a heavy arm around your back bringing you to his chest as he puts you on his lap, the hem of your pretty little dress hiked up over your ass, as he nestles his big cock deep inside you. He sinks his teeth into your neck and the flesh of the slopes of your chest as the straps slip further down your shoulder with every thrust of his hips.
“Logan...” Your voice came out as a whimper as he trails his hand down to grip your ass.
“You doing alright sweetheart?” Logan asks between thrusts. He knew it was too much for you, but it was what you asked for, and who was he to deny you anything you asked for.
Reaching behind you he unzips your dress before he’s yanking it over your head, your bra soon joining in the growing pile of both your clothes on the floor. Never missing a beat as he kept plunging into you.
He’s so fucking big, and he knows it too as smirks into your mouth. He’s moving like a younger man. Not that you really even wanted anyone your age. Guys your age didn’t know what to do with a gal like you.
“Easy princess, eyes on me.” He said as your eyes start to close as you lose focus, he knew you were close by the way your gimpy walls kept fluttering around him. Grabbing your face with one hand he forces you to look him dead in his hazel eyes as he keeps up his pace. He pulls you into a searing kiss as he releases your face with a dark chuckle before grabbing both your hands in one of his.
“Keep ‘em here for me.” He says placing your hands over his shoulders as he lays you back on the bed as he locks in, the bed’s frame creaking beneath you at the strength of his thrusts, the headboard hitting the wall behind you with equal force.
Your neighbors were definitely gonna have something to complain about in the morning.
A chill runs down your spine when you feel him exhale a strangled breath into your neck, as he reaches down to rub fierce circles into your clit. He was getting close too.
Glancing down, a smile settles on his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt gripping him in its tight wet hold before he pulls away and settles back in again. He could watch himself disappear in and out of you all night if he could. He teases you as he continues his assault, calling you all types of sweet nothings as he watches your face contorts in pleasure as you clumsily try to keep up with him.
Your moans become muffled as you press yourself against him. That tight coil in your stomach tightening ever so slightly threatening to explode. Goosebumps prickling your skin as you shook violently against him as you finally let go dragging him along with you with a harsh grunt, nails digging into him desperately, most likely drawing blood.
“I know, baby. I gotcha.” He coos rubbing at your sides as you cry out, eyes glazed over with fresh tears. He pauses his movements for a moment to give you a minute but literally only for a minute before he’s back on you kissing and sucking down your neck before he pulls away.
“Hey look at me, kid.” He huffs as he leans down to kiss you. “We’re not done yet.”
“B-but you already-!” You start but are cut off by a moan that’s bubbled up into your throat as you feel him, still hard, as he starts back up again.
“We’re done when I say we’re done.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan’s ripped from his sleep by the sound of your front door opening and closing. Before he even has a chance to attempt to get up, your bedroom door opens suddenly, hitting the wall behind it with a soft thud.
“What the fuck!” Said one of your dad’s men as he stared at the two of you in shock. Another one came flying into the room behind him, gun drawn, until he catches sight of you, he looks back and forth between the two of you before he casts his eyes to the ground, going to pull the other guy out of the room with a visible limp.
“You wanna keep your mouth shut?” Logan hisses voice still laced with sleep as he pulls the sheets further up to cover your back. Thank fuck you were a hard sleeper when you were really tired.
“I-I’m sorry man it just-“ the first man starts to stammer as he asks unceremoniously “Did you really have sex with her?!” Smacking a hand over his own mouth just as shocked, but definitely not as pissed as Logan, was that he had said that, he stumbled to follow his companion out the room.
It’s here at your little table in the middle of your kitchen, that Logan finds the two goons. They both jump to their feet at the sight of him, one albeit faster than the other.
“What the fuck are you two clowns even doing here?” Logan said gently, closing the door behind him. His pants resting haphazardly on his hips.
“She never checked in last night after leaving the club like she usually does,” the other guy says, turning away as Logan went to zip up his pants. Of course, how could he forget how much of a good girl you were. “Boss was worried, gave us a key and everything.”
“Yeah sorry man! If we woulda known-“ the other chimed in, his voice was starting to grate on his nerves.
“Did you really sleep with her, Logan?” The other guy cuts him off. He’s staring Logan dead in his eyes to answer him so he could run off and tell the boss, like he actually had anything on him. He was challenging him and he’d be damned if he let him get away with it.
“I did yeah, the fuck are you gonna do about it?”
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tibby-art · 4 months
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hitman au save me .. its been seven years ..
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haven’t been able to draw/write much of this au lately but i want to write a few little scene snippets i have stored my brain :’D ill include them under cut
=+=
“This better be something good,” Scar muttered to Cub as they stepped out of the elevator. The hitman, while bound to his contract, considered ‘boring’ missions to be a waste of his time.
“I hope so,” Cub hummed. “Hope so.”
The ConVex swung open the doors to the NHO conference room, not bothering to check if their bosses were actually ready for their meeting.
“Holy mother of—! Knock next time, will you?” A man setting files down on the conference table jumped visibly as the doors slammed open.
“The Vex require a dramatic entrance, Beef,” Scar said casually. Cub snickered.
“Sure, whatever.” Beef furrowed his brow, used to this behavior. He didn’t have time for this. “Okay. Doc was supposed to do this briefing, but he’s busy with his machines I guess, because of course he is, so.” He huffed, composing himself. “Your new top-secret project. This one’s a doozy. Have a look.”
Beef slid the folder across the table. The hitmen flipped it open, absorbing its contents with hungry eyes.
What caught their eyes immediately were the photos. The person of interest looked nothing like a powerful crime boss or a dangerous anomaly. A young adult with glasses, dark eyes and short, sandy brown hair stared back at them.
“Who’s this?” Scar raised an eyebrow. Is the NHO asking them to assassinate some normal-looking university student?
“That is Grian,” Beef explained, both hands planted firmly on the table. “Grian has been with us at the NHO for months.”
“I’ve never seen him before,” Scar remarked.
“Grian’s case is top-secret. He’s been staying in high-security, private quarters… as well as our research laboratories.”
“I thought you guys seemed super suspicious lately! I knew they were hiding something from us, Cub,” Scar nudged his partner with a grin. Cub did not budge as his sharp eyes combed through the documents. He hadn’t heard a single word spoken to him.
“Cub? What’s the deal?” Scar asked. He preferred to let Cub read their mission files and summarize it for him, anyways. Dyslexia and top-secret government files were not a great mix. Oh, what would he do without Cub?
“Watchers?” Cub finally spoke, looking up at Beef with a quizzical frown. The other man nodded slowly. “You’re kidding.”
“After months of testing and analysis, we can confirm that this individual is the only currently documented case of a mortal possessing Watcher abilities,” Beef nodded slowly.
Scar had heard whispers of the Watchers only a handful of times. As a vex, he knew plenty about the realm of magic, the divine, the fae, you name it! But Watchers were said to be ancient entities, perhaps as old as time itself. So old that they were widely considered to be a myth.
“So this is not a hit,” Scar said after a moment.
“This is not a hit, Scar, good lord, do not kill this person,” Beef put both hands on his forehead and let them slowly drag down his face.
“Mortal, you say?” Cub raised an eyebrow.
“Yep,” Beef said. “She was a completely normal citizen until he got these abilities in some freak accident. Lucky for everyone involved, the NHO was able to take control of the situation before anything… dangerous happened.”
“So,” Scar narrowed his eyes slightly, “If this isn’t a hit, then what do you want from us?”
Beef sighed. “After months of testing to determine Grian’s situation, the NHO has decided that he is too important to return to life as a normal citizen at this time. Instead, we’d like to utilize his abilities in our goals to maintain order in Hermit City, and we need someone to train her how to be a special agent in the field.”
“You want the ConVex to train a Watcher how to be a hitman,” Cub said with a slight smirk at just how insane that sounded.
“Yep.”
“Huh.” Scar put both hands on his hips. “Well, that’s not what I was expecting.”
“I suppose we could give it a shot,” Cub said. Although the ConVex were bound by a fae contract to work for the NHO, the vex took every opportunity to feign control over their situation. There was no choice here. Beef had given them an order.
“Sure, sure! We are very good at our jobs, after all,” Scar grinned. Whatever happened, good or bad, would at least be entertaining, surely.
“You’ll come back here to meet her tomorrow morning,” Beef instructed. “Hand me that file back and be here by 9, will you?”
“Sure thing,” Cub replied coolly, sliding the file back to the man. Scar couldn’t help but grin wider when he noticed Cub’s hand casually in his pants pocket, some folded white paper barely visible in his grip.
“Don’t be late. I’m serious this time,” Beef called out as the hitmen turned and exited the conference room.
=+=
The conference room was tense that morning. Towards the end of the table sat the NHO - Beef, Doc, Etho, and Bdubs. On one side sat Cub and Scar. Across from them, Grian sat alone.
“So, how about introductions?” Doc clapped his hands together. “Er… Cub and Scar, this is Grian. Grian, this is Cub and Scar. You guys already know the deal. Grian is going to come with you on missions from now on.”
The ConVex hadn’t taken their eyes off of Grian since they entered the room, unable to resist their curiosity. They had both read the files, but still found it hard to believe the person before them was a Watcher. Grian sat rigid in his chair, fiddling with his hands, looking tense and exhausted. She eyed the vex curiously as well.
“Well hello there,” Scar greeted. “I’m Scar, and this is Cub.”
“Hey, hey,” Cub said quietly.
“Hello,” The corner of Grian’s mouth twitched in a possible attempt at a smile.
The three continued to stare at each other until Bdubs cleared his throat.
“Wonderful introduction. Now that we’ve broken the ice, let’s talk about your next mission.” The man picked up a small remote, and the large screen on the wall behind them illuminated.
“Before we send our agents out into the field, we meet like this to discuss the details and ensure that the mission is clearly understood,” Doc explained to Grian, throwing a disapproving glare in the ConVex’s direction.
A lengthy file on some high-profile criminal appeared on the screen, as Bdubs proceeded to read off the information. Scar slumped back in his chair. These mission briefings were the worst. It was time to zone out and have Cub tell him the details later with all the fluff cut out.
At about ten minutes in, Scar yawned absentmindedly.
“Oh, are we boring you, sir?” Doc interrupted Bdubs to shoot a piercing stare at Scar.
“Oh, not at all!” Scar said cheerfully, but slumping in his chair slightly lower.
“As I was saying,” Bdubs continued loudly.
Scar glanced over at Grian. Her eyes quickly darted back to the presentation when they made eye contact. Scar looked over at Cub and found he had still not taken his eyes off of Grian. Hopefully Cub was at least somewhat paying attention, because he sure wasn’t.
Grian continued to fidget with his hands. Scar felt a pang of pity for him. The vex were used to this sort of environment, but according to the NHO, Grian had a completely normal life up until a few months ago. Now suddenly, he gains these terrifying powers and spends months in a top-secret lab having tests run on her all day. Who wouldn’t be overwhelmed?
Scar yawned again, this time more intentionally. He earned another death glare from Doc, but Bdubs droned on. He glanced over and saw Grian rubbing a hand on his cheek to help hide a grin.
The art of annoying your boss was a delicate one. Timing is everything. Let enough time pass until they’ve forgotten, or they think you’ve stopped, to continue the game. Scar lets about ten minutes pass before his next yawn, bigger this time.
“Quit it,” Beef hissed. Even Etho glanced over. Doc kept his eyes on the screen, but his jaw was clenched. Grian let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
Five minutes later, Cub clears his throat rather loudly. Bdubs stutters over his words for a second, but because Cub is Cub, none of the NHO seems to be able to tell if that was a deliberate cough or not, and they decide to ignore it. Cub shows no emotion.
After an hour that felt like an eternity of Bdubs explaining every possible detail about the case, it seemed to be almost concluded. That was, until a rather loud yawn was heard throughout the conference room.
“WILL YOU LET ME FINISH, FOR GOODNESS SAKE?!” Bdubs finally erupted, whipping around in his chair to face Cub and Scar.
The hitmen stared back blankly. They glanced over across the table, and Bdubs followed their gaze, where Grian sat with both arms over her head in a large stretch.
“Sorry,” Grian said simply when all eyes were on him, lowering his arms. “Just had to stretch a bit.” He stared back at Bdubs innocently.
The NHO stood there, confused. Bdubs was at a loss for words, unable to get a read on the new recruit. He sighed and turned back to the screen. “Well, regardless, I think we’ve about summed things up,” he grumbled.
Scar made eye contact with Grian once again. The two cracked a smile at one another for a second, too quick for the NHO to notice.
Scar had a feeling that him, Cub and Grian were going to get along just fine.
=+=
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aperrywilliams · 3 months
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My Lover Boy (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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——————
Author Masterlist
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Request: "Can you write something super angsty, like the reader and Spencer have something going on, but technically, they're just friends, and then everything with Lila Archer happens? She's sad but tries not to show it to him, and he is mad at himself for getting with Lila. Derek is teasing him, and it's super angsty, but it all ends up okay."
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.
Summary: You think something is going on with Spencer, something beyond friendship. But you start to question it when a case in LA pushes Spencer to spend time with Lila Archer.
Word Count: 4.6k
TW: Angst with a happy ending. Use of some strong words. Some suggestive comments. Mention of having sex. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: Thanks for the request! Keep sending them to me.
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"Hey, did you get something?" You ask Spencer when he returns to the precinct. He and Gideon were at a gallery open to obtain information for the case you are working on in LA.
Spencer shrugs. "Not really. They all were more interested in photos and the press."
"Celebrities," you huff playfully, and Spencer chuckles.
"Yeah. Something like that," Spencer agrees.
"I'm going to grab some coffee. Do you want some?" You offer, standing from where you were checking the case folders.
"Sure," Spencer accepts, sitting and grabbing a folder for himself to inspect. You pass by him and squeeze his shoulders in a gentle gesture, subtly kissing his head.
"I'll be right back," you murmur before leaving the room.
Things with Spencer have been kind of odd for a while. Sure, you still are coworkers and friends, but ultimately, it is like you both are getting to terms with the idea that something else is going on. You don't know what it is really, and neither of you has sat to talk about it.
Why? Lack of time, maybe? Fear of being misreading the signals? Both?
Whatever it is, you have been acting like nothing is happening, although you almost kissed after a bar outing two weeks ago. You would have if Morgan hadn't called Spencer when you were about to kiss outside your apartment.
After the interruption, neither of you brought up the topic again.
Now you are stuck in LA, trying to solve a case involving celebrity killings. So, of course, the media and the locals have been nailing your asses for answers.
There is no time for anything else but to try to catch the unsub as soon as possible. Hotch asked you to narrow the unsub comfort zone. It's a task that's usually assigned to Spencer, but Hotch has him tracking information from one of the possible unsub's targets: Lila Archer, an actress with a promising career ahead.
"Pretty boy now has the best assignment in this case," Derek sighs as he slumps into one of the chairs in the meeting room.
Elle and you scoff at his dramatics. Morgan points an accusing finger at you.
"If you have seen her, I'm sure you would agree with me."
Neither of you pays too much attention to Derek's tantrum and keeps working instead.
It's almost night, and when Hotch returns to the precinct with Gideon and no Spencer in sight, you raise an eyebrow.
"Where is the genius?" Elle asks.
"With Miss Archer. We need to keep an eye on her, and Reid has the rapport already," Hotch explains before asking for your progress in the task you were assigned.
How does Spencer suddenly become a bodyguard? You don't know, but don't question it. You assume Hotch knows what he's doing.
An hour later, Garcia calls, saying the cameras at Lila's property show a strange person wandering around. The fact Spencer is not answering his phone makes everyone flock out of the police station, and all of you think the unsub is trying to get into the house.
What if the unsub is already inside and hurt Spencer? Shit, you are a nervous wreck, although you try to mask it to the rest of the team.
When arriving at the house, Hotch split everyone: Morgan and Elle are assigned to the front. Hotch and you take the backyard. Gideon, with the patrols, canvass the main street.
As you approach, your heart beats faster and faster. With your gun aimed, you're ready for anything but the fact you hear laughing coming from the pool.
You are covering Hotch's back, and he is as confused as you after opening the gate.
You both see Lila getting out of the pool in a fit of laughs and Spencer, entirely clothed, inside the pool.
"Are you okay, Miss Archer?" Hotch asks, holstering his gun and checking the surroundings with his gaze.
"Oh, Agent Hotchner. I didn't know you were coming," she mentions casually, wrapping a towel around her torso.
Realizing danger isn't imminent, you holster your gun, too, and reach a hand to help Spencer.
"What the hell happened?" You ask him as you take in his drenched clothes and wet gun resting at the edge of the pool. Spencer doesn't look at you, only mumbling, "I fell."
Well, weird but not implausible, considering Spencer isn't the best-coordinated man in the world.
You help him, grabbing a towel from a chair and handing it to him. You take his gun and remove the bullets from the soaked chamber.
You want to know more about the whole situation, but before you have the chance to ask Spencer, you see Derek, Elle, and Gideon coming.
Finally, the alert came from a paparazzi who was around the house and wanted to take photographs of Lila. And regarding the pool? Lila said that she wanted a dip, and unfortunately, Dr. Reid tripped and fell.
No one says anything about it, but the looks Elle and Derek give Spencer catch your attention, as does the way Spencer avoids talking to you until you are called to return to the precinct.
Despite the incident, Lila insists Spencer stay as you continue investigating the evidence.
So you all come back to the station, minus Spencer.
You don't know why Elle instructs you to check the camera roll recovered from the paparazzi, but there you are, in a dark room, revealing what could be pieces of evidence.
What you do not expect is the kind of images that are showing before your eyes: Spencer and Lila Archer making out in the pool.
What-the-fuck?
Now, the scene you found when you arrived at the place with Hotch makes a little more sense. Spencer was entirely soaked while Lila, with a smug expression, walked into the house with a towel around her torso.
You don't know what reaction comes first. But you can recognize the deception and the way your heart shatters into a million pieces.
They were kissing. In the pool. At night. Like nothing is happening around them.
You have been working your ass to catch an unsub, and the doctor is enjoying himself with a movie star. In addition, they lied about the whole ordeal.
The tears pool in your eyes, but you are fighting not to let them fall. Not here. Not for Spencer. Not for anyone.
Why bother, anyway? You are just friends.
What? Will you ask him for an explanation?
It's not your place, even if you thought something was going on between you both.
How stupid you are. You don't stand a chance with him. Spencer only sees you as friend material.
With the entire film revealed, you shove the photos into a manila folder and leave the dark room.
Elle raises an eyebrow when she spots you walking toward her. You throw the folder over the table.
"Here's what you asked me for," you say in a harsh tone before turning around and walking out of the precinct. Elle doesn't say anything and doesn't need to open the folder to know what's going on.
When the team moves to Lila's house again a few hours later, already knowing who the unsub is, you stay behind in connection to Garcia to coordinate at the police station. You don't need to be there again.
You won't get exposed to see Spencer and Lila together.
Early in the morning, with the killer in custody and Lila Archer safe, you are ready to come back to Virginia.
During the flight, you seclude yourself in the farthest seat, headphones on and eyes closed. It works. No one disturbs you.
But you fail to notice Spencer's eyes on you the entire time.
After touching down, Hotch gathers you in the office to do the debriefing when you only want to go home.
Spencer tries to talk to you a few times, but you slip away from him every time, using whatever excuse not to speak.
Finally, Hotch officially closes the case and sends you home with two days off. Without saying goodbye to anyone, and with your heart broken, you run out of the BAU.
------------
Spencer looks for you when he exits the conference room, but you're already gone. His guts tell him something happened to you, and he is worried. Usually, you're open to talking to him, and with this thing going on between you both, Spencer doesn't know how to ask you about it. But even if he wants to do that, he needs to have you in the same room first.
And that will only happen once you are back at the BAU in two days.
He thinks maybe he should go to your place but refrains from the idea. Perhaps you're just tired, and he doesn't want to make it worse.
He doesn't know you sulked in your apartment the entire time, and when you all return to work two days later, you are not still talking to him.
Spencer trails behind you like a lost puppy. He tries to make some conversation with you every chance he gets, but you avoid him like the plague. Spencer still doesn't know why you're acting so cold with him, so he goes to someone who might know: Elle.
Spencer walks to her desk, ready to get some kind of answers.
"What is it, Reid?" Elle asks without looking at him. Spencer clears his throat.
"Do you know if something happened to her?" he questions, referring to you. Elle rolls her eyes in annoyance before lifting her gaze to him.
"Are you kidding me right now, Reid?"
Spencer frowns in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Huffing, Elle digs through the stack of folders on her desk, pulls out the one with the photos you developed, and passes it on to Spencer.
"Serve yourself, genius."
Spencer proceeds to check what is inside, and his cheeks immediately start to burn.
"She - she saw these?" Spencer stutters. Elle pulls a face.
"If she saw these? She developed the camera roll and gave these to me."
Spencer wants to die. It makes perfect sense, but that means he screwed it up.
"Why did she do that?! I mean, no one else could have done it?"
"I asked her to," Elle says, folding her arms over her chest.
"Why did you do that?!" Spencer squeals.
It doesn't matter why, but he still can't believe you saw everything. Spencer knows it was wrong to kiss Lila back, but for him, it didn't mean anything. His heart already belongs to you, even if he hasn't told you yet.
"What did I know that she would find out photos of you and Lila sucking each other's faces? I thought there were only pictures of Miss Startlet swimming and you stupidly falling into the pool. Isn't that you told me happened?"
Spencer Reid has rarely been left speechless, but this is one of them. A mixture of shame, regret, and anger at himself makes his stomach churn, and he wants to dig a hole to disappear.
He needs to explain to you what happened. But how could he approach the subject? You and Spencer are friends in the first place, and he didn't tell you what really happened in that pool. You had to see it for yourself in those pictures.
And thinking about your 'situationship' makes it even worse.
Spencer leaves Elle's desk, thinking about what to say and looking for the best moment to talk to you. But luck isn't by his side: in mid-morning, Hotch announced there is a case.
At least it's local this time.
In the afternoon, he spots you walking alone in one of the hallways. It's now or never, he thinks.
"(Y/N), wait!"
Hearing your name, you reluctantly turn only to see Spencer jogging to catch up with you. You want to turn again and leave, but it won't be subtle if you do that.
"What is it, Spencer? There is something about the case?" You ask flatly. Spencer knows you know it isn't about the case, but he has to assume you don't.
"I - uh. No. It's not the case. I - I just want to make sure you are okay?" His voice is wary, and the fidgeting of his hands is a tale-telling that he's nervous.
"I'm okay. I'm great, actually," you say, faking cheerfulness. Your patience runs thin, and Spencer isn't helping.
He frowns, knowing what you are doing.
"Don't be like that. I really wanted to make sure you are okay," he mumbles shyly. You cross your arms over your chest—a defiant look in your eyes.
"And why I wouldn't, uh? Something bad happened to me? There is a single reason why I shouldn't be okay?"
Spencer contemplates his response for a second. How does he say it in a way that does not sound self-centered?
"I don't know. You haven't talked to me since the last case in LA."
Spencer opts to bring up the obvious and let the overwhelming evidence out of this for now.
"And that bothers you?" You ask in a disbelief tone.
Spencer knows this isn't working.
Damn to his inability to lead meaningful interactions when he needs to.
"Yes! I mean, we - we're friends. You can tell me if something is going on."
The friend card. Spencer thinks it's the safest approach. But he's wrong. You laugh humorlessly.
"Honestly, Spencer? I don't know if we are friends anymore."
Your tone tries to be cold, but behind it, there is a tiny wavering you try to suppress at all costs.
"What? Why are you saying that?"
That's the limit Spencer reaches and pushes you to snap.
"Because friends don't lie to each other! When I asked you what happened at Lila's house, you lied to me!"
Spencer gulps because he knows you are right.
That is what he needed to say first, and not have to wait until you were who threw it at him.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, gazing at his feet.
And then again, the guilt, the embarrassment.
Why did he do it? He isn't attracted to Lila. Why did he kiss her back?
"Yeah, me too. But you know? I'm glad. I'm glad you finally found someone and that now I know where I stand."
It hurts you to say the words. Spencer can see the crack in your demeanor, and he is the one to blame.
"What? No! No, I'm not- I didn't find someone," he chimes in an attempt to clear this up. "It's not what you think."
"Isn't? I saw the pictures, Spencer. I developed them myself. I know what I saw."
"She kissed me!" Spencer exclaims, trying to get afloat because he feels he's drowning.
"So what? If that's the case, you kissed her back!" You spat, angry at the lame explanation coming from Spencer's mouth.
"It was a mistake! I shouldn't have done that! You have to believe me."
Spencer tries to take hold of your hand, but you don't let him, yanking your arm and keeping your distance from him.
"Why do you think it's a mistake? Uh? She's pretty, almost famous, she's into you. I don't think it is," you start, and Spencer frowns. "What I can't understand is why you didn't tell me the truth before I could find out from those goddamn photos. What did you expect? That I would criticize you? What would bother me about your love adventures in Hollywood? You said it yourself: we're just friends."
"(Y/N), please," Spencer tries to get to you but is to no avail.
"It's your fucking life, Spencer. Do what you want with it! But let me out of it."
Without another word, you storm out to who knows where but far away from him.
Spencer knows he fucked up big this time. And his attempt at apology made things only worse.
He didn't see you for the rest of the case. Spencer assumed you secluded yourself in Garcia's office.
From his spot at his desk, he can only see Elle's disapproving look.
There is no reasonable reason for what he did, and that consumes Spencer's brain. He doesn't like Lila. He has been pining for you long enough to be sure he loves you.
'Men are men,' Elle usually says when Derek brags about his conquests. Spencer always felt proud of not being that way. And what happens when a pretty actress jumps at him? He goes with it. Elle is right, then. He is like any other man.
The question is if he will do something to gain your trust - and affection - back. How can he fix this?
------------
A whole week has passed since the case in LA. The BAU looks pretty much the same as always, if not for the fact you only talk to Spencer when it is strictly necessary. The team doesn't pick up much of it, though. Only Elle knows what's going on, but she won't pester you with questions or unrequited advice.
Spencer is doing nothing extra to call your attention, although you can feel his eyes on you sometimes during the day. But you assume he got your message, and he'll go on with his life.
The problem is you can't bring yourself to do the same. You know your chances with Spencer are a past thing, but your heart still doesn't get the memo. And you try, really try to be neutral, professional, and collected. It works in the majority because nobody asks questions or refers to what happened in LA.
But the state of 'everything is fine' in you is fragile, and you know that.
It's Friday afternoon, and everyone wants to end their reports to go finally home. You see Spencer from the corner of your eyes. He is deep-writing in what you assume are the details from the last case. Elle is doing the same. You are trying to focus on your work, but the tiredness makes you go slower than you want.
Suddenly, the glass doors open to reveal a grinning Derek Morgan walking straight to Spencer's desk with something under his arm. It looks like a newspaper.
"Hey, lover boy!" Derek claps Spencer's back with a shit-eaten smirk plastered on his face. Spencer looks up at Derek with a frown. "Don't look at me like that Casanova. You are the one who didn't tell me about your little something with Miss Starlet."
Morgan places a newspaper he's carrying on Reid's desk. The cover is a photo of him making out with Lila Archer.
"W- what?" Spencer stutters as his cheeks redden. His eyes quickly move from the newspaper to find yours, and you only want to disappear. Averting his gaze, you try to focus again on the file you are reading. Elle rolls her eyes from her desk.
"My man! You slept with her that night, didn't you?"
"Morgan, stop," Spencer pleads, but Derek doesn't relent, even when the air in the room becomes way thick in instants.
"You can tell me! Is she good? I bet she is-"
"Morgan, no!" Spencer's high-pitched voice tries to make Morgan shut up.
"Come on, give me something pretty boy. She is wild in bed, doesn't she? How many hickeys did she leave on you?"
You actually cringe at Morgan's words. The sole idea of Lila and Spencer sleeping together makes you sick to your stomach.
You're about seconds to stand and get out.
Elle, who is observing the whole scenario - thing Derek doesn't - huffs in irritation.
"Why don't you and lover boy go to spill your gut about your sex life out of here? We are trying to work if you didn't notice."
Morgan frowns. Usually, Elle backs up his teasing to Spencer. But when he is about to say something again, you're - not so subtly - grabbing your things and storming out from the bullpen.
Your collected attitude goes out of the window.
All of them be damned, you think.
Spencer is standing right away to chase after you, leaving Morgan with a confused look, silently asking Elle what the hell just happened.
"I am only going to say that you are a total asshole, Derek Morgan," Elle states before returning to her files.
Meanwhile, you're pressing the elevator button, and you can feel Spencer rapidly nearing you.
“(Y/N)! Please, wait!"
When he's by your side, you intentionally look to another way.
"Not now, Spencer. Just let me go."
Just let me go. That statement has more meaning than the explicit one you're voicing.
"Morgan is only messing with me. I didn't sleep with her."
Spencer thinks blurting the truth will be enough to stop you from running away from him. But things are already more complicated than that.
"It doesn't matter, Spencer. Now, let me go."
Your insistence is more like an agonizing plea. You're so tired. There is no fight you want to engage in right now. You think you won this time when the elevator doors open, but it's short-lived as you see Spencer stepping inside as well.
"No! It does matter!"
The elevator doors close, and now only are you and him.
"Why? Uh? Why is it so important for you to tell me this?"
Your sudden raised voice takes Spencer aback. You're pissed off.
"Because - because it is the truth!" He defends.
And maybe he's right. Perhaps he didn't sleep with Lila, but your heart is already broken, and you only need space to get used to the idea and heal.
"Spencer. I already told you you don't owe me an explanation. Truth or not, it is not my business anyway."
Your tone is not angry but deflated, exhausted. Your gaze drops to the floor.
Spencer wants to scream; there is so much in his chest to say, but his brain doesn't cooperate in spilling something coherent.
"But I want it to be!" He decides to say, and he gets you to look at him again.
"What? are you talking about?"
"I want it - I want it to be your business," Spencer repeats, and you don't know what to say; you don't even know what he means.
The elevator dings and the door opens. You both stand there for a second, frozen after what looks like a confession. Or not. You're not sure.
"You don't know what you are saying," you mumble, deciding to move and pass him to walk into the parking garage.
"I know I should have said this before," Spencer continues walking after you. "I know I should have said something that night when we almost kissed. I regret I didn't."
You stop when he mentions that night. At this point, you thought he didn't care, and it didn't mean anything to him.
"Nothing happened that night," you say bitterly.
"But it should have. Don't tell me you didn't feel it," Spencer poses a hand on your shoulder to stop you from turning away again. Your eyes fill with tears, but you're fighting not to let them fall.
"And what if I did? It doesn't change anything," you shrug, a painful look in your eyes.
"It does! Because I love you and I do really want to make it up to you. I want you back. I want to amend the hurt I caused you for my stupidity."
Did he say 'I love you'? That takes you aback.
"Spencer-"
"I know I messed up. I know it was stupid to kiss Lila back. It doesn't matter if she did it first or not; you're right. But believe me, it didn't mean anything to me because she was not you. She is not you and will never be."
"You're confusing things," you shake your head, still not giving credit to his confession.
"After our fight the other day, I really thought about stepping back and leaving you alone. I have been torturing myself all week trying to conceive a life without you on it, mourning the lost of our friendship, and above all, mourning the lost of the prospect of to be your person, and you to be mine."
You can't keep your tears at bay anymore, so you let them free. Spencer cups your cheeks, and you can see tears in his eyes, too.
"But I can't. I can't let you go. Not without telling you the truth. And if you don't feel the same, that's okay; I won't push any further, and I'll leave you alone."
You can't tell him that you don't feel the same way because that would be the biggest lie in the universe. You are also sure that you love him, and that is why this situation has broken you so much.
You blink away some of your tears as Spencer looks at you, trying to read the truth in you.
"I think I have been in love with you since ever," you blurt out, with a half sob and half chuckle. "And I felt so heartbroken seeing you kissing her, and now Derek comes suggesting-" you trail off.
"Hey, don't think about that. I messed up, and I didn't say anything earlier because, to me, it didn't mean anything. I'm so sorry," Spencer apologizes, running his thumbs under your eyes to wipe some of your tears.
"How can - how can we start over?" you ask him shyly but hopefully. Spencer hastens to reply.
"The way you want it. If you want time to think, or if you want us to go slow, we can do that. If you wish to, can we go on a date first? Officially, a date? We can do that," Spencer rambles, and you smile for real for the first time in weeks.
"Yeah, we can go on a date, officially a date," you concede, and Spencer can't contain his excitement. "But, can I ask you for something first?"
"Of course. Just name it," Spencer says as his hands rub your shoulders lovingly.
"Can you kiss me now?" You request, with the most faked innocent look you can muster, making Spencer laugh.
"I can do that," he nods, looking at you intensely, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. Then Spencer leans down, closing his eyes at midway. You wait with batted breath until finally, his lips softly touch yours.
It's a tentative, sweet kiss. Your arms go up Spencer's shoulders until they land on his neck. His hands fall to your hips to pull you closer as the kiss deepens. It's no longer exploratory; it's hungry, messy, passionate, and you couldn't have wanted it any other way. You're sure this kiss is a thousand times better than the one he had with Lila, and Spencer completely agrees with that assessment because it's you.
That makes it perfect.
It's the need for air that makes you part after a while.
"Wow," you both say at the same time, starting to laugh like teenagers and trying to catch your breath.
When the laugh subsides, you narrow your eyes in contemplation and Spencer's eyebrow furrow.
"What?" he asks, and you look at him—a mischievous glint in your eyes.
"We agreed to a date first, right?" you ask, and Spencer nods.
"What if we skip that and make up for the lost time? What do you say, my lover boy?" you suggest, with a playful smirk on your face. Spencer's cheeks flush, but he is definitively excited with the idea. He quickly grabs your hand and runs with you to your car.
There is a lot to make it up, he agrees.
------------------ 
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 
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traffytaffy · 5 months
Text
OP men and being “told”they are in love with you:
Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro
Cw: implied fem reader (mainly in zoro’s part)
Ngl, not much of a fan of this so i might make a follow up! lmk if i should!
Part 2
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Law:
Oh boy.
This man doesnt realize it until one of his crew members tell him. He’ll give you small smiles when youre not looking. Completely mesmerized at you: Your focus, your dedication, your delicateness with every task performed. But most importantly: your smarts. Every-time you spoke, he would stop what he was doing and listen intently at whatever subject it was. Which was how the crew…mainly ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin, knew there was a special interest.
“Am I in love with y/n? I dont see how thats any of your business”
Law says, looking at an accusatory Ikkaku.
“Captain. I can see that look on your face. You’re all red.”
“No im not.”
“Oh yes you a-“
“Room”
~
After that, It really got him thinking. Why did he get all flustered? No. There is no way he was in love. It was just a coincidence that he happened to get all worked up around you. That his heart would beat a little faster. That he was willing to drop whatever he was doing to help/listen or be with you. That he spoke more softer and less stern too. That was all a coincidence….right?
~
“Captain? Who’s that tiny person you’re drawing on your sticky note? Are you distracted by something? Is that… y/n?”
“Don’t any of you know how to knock?!”
A blue bubble surrounds the submarine.
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Kid:
Same as Law.
He doesn’t realize his behavior till a teasing Killer points it out.
“I didn’t take you to be such a romantic, Kid.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
His soft tone of voice in comparison of his rough one. The way he yelled at everyone except you. The way his brows furrowed every time he saw you talking to someone else. The way he locked himself in his workshop and didn’t let anyone in when he saw you enjoying yourself with another crew member that wasn’t him. Killer was the one who found him and he could see right through Kid.
What was this feeling? Why was he more angry?
“You were staring at them that whole time. You’re jealous huh?” Killer asks, Kid could sense the grin from under his mask.
“Jealous? For fucks sake. No”
Killer shakes his head with a laugh and mutters “Whatever you say” before leaving the room.
Kid scoffs. Killer didn’t know anything. This is how he always acted….right? I mean you were beautiful… but that didn’t affect him right? You shouldn’t be all smiley and happy with anyone besides him.. thats just a friendly way of thinking right?
“Eustass? Killer sent me in here cause he said you needed my help with something?” You walk in all shy and innocently. You didn’t know about the little trick Killer was pulling on Kid.
Kid turns soft when he sees you and becomes a blushing and stuttering mess for how caught off-guard he was from your sudden appearance. This, as everything else, enrages him.
And who else is to blame for this?
“KILLER IM GOING TO KILL YOU!”
❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎
Zoro:
He knows what he feels. He just doesn’t want to believe or pursue his own feelings.
Every-time he sees you, his heart beats faster. But this wasn’t the same fast heart rate he got when he was training. Nope. It was every time you were in his presence. Every brush of skin. Every-time he saw you fight. Every time you assisted him in anything.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have time for romance.”
“Ah! So you’re not even denying it!You’ve never told Sanji off when it came to him flirting with us, but now you suddenly do?”
Nami says, pointing at herself and Robin next to her, referring to the event that led for the crew figuring out he was in love with you. Sanji was serving ice cold drinks he made for the hot summer day and as usual…he got flirty. But once Sanji got to you, his heart eyes and kneeling position in front of you as if you were accepting his hand in marriage. Zoro’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood up from where he was napping.
“Leave them alone Sanji. Can you not be a creep for one day?!”.
Although Sanji would’ve made a snarky remark back. He didn’t. Sanji looked stunned? He looked back at Nami and Robin from where they sat at and Nami shrugged, while Robin gave a knowing smile.
~
“You two don’t know crap. I don’t have time for this”
Suddenly, you walk in..
You look at Robin and Nami who were hovering over Zoro cleaning his swords on the bench. Although you were confused, you shrugged it off.
“Oh hey…” you say… “Zoro, wanna train?”
Zoro looks away and starts to stutter.
“Oh uhm…s-sure…”
Nami and Robin smirk at him, which is met with a death glare.
“Im slicing all of you.”
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abbyfmc · 22 days
Text
Yandere Yandere (Fatherly) Emperor and Empress (Maternal) x Daughter! Reader:
Think about it.
I imagine that after a long line of princes, the yandere empress finally has a princess, and both parents are delighted with her, since she was the first daughter after many years of trying. Your father, the emperor, agrees that you be raised under the care of the empress (your mother).
From the moment you were born, you were never left alone for a single minute. When the Empress wasn't with you, the Emperor himself was. Your mother always made you follow her everywhere she went, as well as sharing her tastes and hobbies, since having only had princes prevented her from doing that. You had a close mother-daughter relationship, and with your father it was something more or less similar.
As you grow up, your parents become more overprotective of you, so much so that they even limit your contact with your older brothers, the princes. Not only would they give you nice gifts, but the best teachers, doctors and servants would be at your disposal (even better than those of your older brothers), although your brothers would probably be jealous of you.
They wouldn't let you walk alone for even a second.
If your father has a harem of consorts and concubines (like other emperors), then the empress will be more paranoid about you, since even though princesses do not inherit the throne, she knows that her enemies can harm you.
Once, when you were five years old, a maid broke a porcelain doll that your father had given you after returning from one of his trips. Unfortunately for that maid, the emperor was returning with you just when the doll broke, so he saw it and got SO angry that he asked his butler to take you out to the garden for a walk, so that you wouldn't see your father the emperor whip the poor maid to death. All this because he considered that maid to be reckless in daring to do that to your things, even if it had been an accident.
Even if more princesses were born, you were the object of your parents' overprotection and adoration.
Even your older brothers didn't dare to do anything bad to you. Once a new maid spoke ill of you (even though you hadn't done anything), and the empress herself slapped her in the face.
They hired servants who document your EVERY move.
The Emperor adores you so much that he will delay any kind of engagement or marriage alliance. He will reject any proposal, and silence anyone who mentions the subject. He does not want you away from him.
If it were up to them, you would stay locked in your room all the time so that nothing would hurt you, and they would tell you that they do everything for your own good.
You were punished by being locked up for an indefinite period of time, followed by the classic punishment of writing the same sentence repeatedly for a long time.
No trying to escape from the palace. The emperor would have experienced guards and servants around you to prevent that.
And if you do get married, then your parents will make sure that you have no choice but to live near the palace, no matter what.
They would be capable of killing if something happens to you.
If you fall ill, they will make sure you rest and eat well, even if it is against your will. If you were to die, they would both go mad with grief, especially the empress.
If you were to die, they would use your chambers as a sanctuary to you, where they would go to pray for you, and in the process force EVERYONE to mourn you.
Your emperor father would not let you have any contact with his family, as there is a power struggle going on where even his own brothers, cousins ​​and uncles could be his enemies and would do ANYTHING to get the throne; even if that includes kidnapping or killing you just because you are the emperor's daughter. Your mother would know this, and every time her brothers-in-law come, she will make you stay with her in the central palace.
With the Empress's family it's a different story, since there are no problems of inheritance of the throne, things are easier unless there is someone who tries to hurt you or pressure you like they do with your mother.
-The End.
What do you think?
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filmologetica · 27 days
Text
BEHAVIOR — dean winchester
pairing: dean winchester x f!reader.
the one where: you and dean are trying your hardest to have sex but everyone seems to be against it.
warnings: +18. kind of smutty, language, fingering, blue balls king. english is not my first language and it’s 2am here so it might have some incorrect english i plan on checking later.
a/n: this was… something. i’m thinking about a part 2, let me know if you want it <3.
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Dean didn’t know if anyone had ever died from blue balls, but if not, he could easily be the first.
Two weeks. It has been two weeks now that Dean and his girlfriend were trying to get some alone time, but it seemed impossible. Every time someone had something they forgot in the room they were heavily making out in and took too long to head out, killing the mood completely, or something urgent to talk to them, or something that needed to be done. Every damn time. And when they finally had time at night they were exhausted, completely worn out.
The tension was growing between them and they just couldn’t help it. They fought for every stupid reason, everything seeing to be extremely frustrating.
“Did you get the milk I asked you to yesterday?” Y/N’s voice was low. She was tired, frustrated and horny. More than that, she was fucking angry with the life she chose. Walking back to back killing monsters was fucking exhausting. She needed a break.
Everyday something new was getting on her nerves. Ghosts, demons, angels and even Lucifer himself. Jesus Christ, she had no more patience for anything.
“Shit, I forgot. Sorry, babe.” Dean was just as exhausted as her, but he was used to this life. What he was not used to was spending fourteen long days with zero sex.
Zero intimacy. Not even a lazy handjob. Of course he could take care of himself but once he was in a relationship - or sort of - he needed to be deep in the woman he craved. And oh, boy, he was craving her. Everything was enough to make his dick wake up and twitch inside his pants.
Every.
Single.
Thing
made him end up with a boner that he wished you would take care of but there was always something in the way.
Fourteen days. And counting.
“Fucking hell, Dean. Is it too much to ask for you to pay attention to the things I tell you?” You snapped, slamming your mug to the counter.
Sam looked up, rolling his eyes knowing very well you two were about to start another pointless argument. Dean wasn’t exactly helping his situation either, as he raised his voice. “If I pay attention to every single thing you talk about every day, there goes my whole day. You never shut up.”
“I’m really sorry. I forgot the only woman you’re capable of listening to are the stupid whores you fuck at every bar we step into.”
“Yeah, at least I can fuck them.”
“Fuck you, Dean.” Your mug was now forgotten in the counter as you marched out of the kitchen, your face red with anger. You knew Dean didn’t mean it. It has been like this for days now, just pointless arguments about nothing.
“Dude, just- Go talk to her.” It was almost like Sam was stuck in a loop all over again. That’s how he felt. He had now lost count of how many times he had said this exact same thing, the exact same way. “I’ll go buy the fucking milk.”
Sam had no idea what was happening. Your relationship with Dean was a secret and that was a deal that you both made until you figured out what it was. Of course sleeping together every night wasn’t exactly nothing but you agreed in taking things slow.
Dean entered your room without even knocking, closing the door behind him with a kick. “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” He sighed, letting his body fall in your bed. “I don’t want to keep fighting, I’m sorry. You know I listen to you, it’s just- It’s been too much.”
“It’s ok. I’m sorry about what I said. I just-” Dean looked at her, knowing exactly what she would say. “I miss you.”
“Yeah?” Tracing an invisible line at her exposed leg, Dean was taking his time feeling how soft her skin was.
“Yeah.”
“Mhmm.” His hand was now not so innocent, getting to her thighs still gently. The touch enough to make her shiver. “What are you missing?”
Opening her legs, Y/N exposed her delicate lingerie. It was red, and Dean could feel his mouth water with the sight. Her tiny lace panties were now making him rock hard. He could see your pussy clearly and he was ready to show you how much he missed it. “I miss you right here.” Your hands entered the fabric, touching your clit gently.
“God, I love it when you act like a cock slut.” Lifting your dress a little more, Dean was taking up the view. You never needed much to make him hard, but this was a whole different level. It was like he was drunk on your smell.
“I love it when you fuck me with your fingers.” You said and Dean now moved the fabric to the side, to get a clearer view, chewing on his bottom lip. “It feels so good when you ease me up with one finger because I’m so fucking tight for you…”
And just to make Dean lose his mind, you add one finger to your drabbling pussy. It took to much of him to not roll his eyes and come undone without even taking off his pants. “And when you add another one… God, feels so good, baby.” One more finger in, another growl from Dean out.
“I’m going to fuck you good. Make you remember what it feels like when I’m filling you up.” With your most innocent face you nodded, more like begging Dean to fuck you.
When you felt his lips on yours in an urgent kiss, it felt like you were dreaming. His tongue sliding into your mouth roughly while you ran your fingers through his hair desperately. Now, he was on top of you and you could feel his bulge.
You could feel his cock while his hips trusted into you trying to make him feel better even with his clothes still on. When your hand found his boner, using enough pressure on it, Dean moaned into your lips. “Fuck. I need to be inside you.”
And just when his hands found his belt, a knock was heard on the door. “No!” You cried.
Dean sighed, absolutely frustrated and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “We can pretend there’s no one here. We put a pillow on your face and you make no sounds while I fuck you.”
You let out a quiet laugh, just as frustrated. “What if it’s important?”
“Y/N, this is important!” Dean was furious. Who wouldn’t be? He refused to add one more day to his blue balls count.
“Open up, guys!” Sam said loudly on the other side of the door.
“What the fuck does this guy want?” Dean got up while you adjusted your dress, trying your best to fix your hair quickly. “Yeah, Sam?”
As Dean opened the door, his face was definitely not friendly but it didn’t scare Sam, who entered the room and sat on the bed.
The bed you thought you were having sex seconds before. “We need to talk about your behavior.” He says.
“My what?” You ask and Dean rolls his eyes, thinking about hitting his head on the door a billion times to end his penalty.
“We’re gonna talk about what’s happening between you and Dean and solve this problem right now.”
“I don’t think that’s something you can fix, Sammy.” You wish you could punch him.
“Well, then I’m not leaving this room.”
And with that, Dean left to take a cold shower in his room after being cockblocked by Sam once again.
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wandixx · 3 months
Text
Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 2
these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to
Trigger warning: death mentioned, self-harm mentioned, idk, Danny gets flashback to portal incident
unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 3 (?)
Out, out, out.
He tripped over his own legs and almost fell and it didn’t matter because he needed to get out. 
Away, away, away. 
He wasn’t sure if he ran or flew or dragged himself on the rough floor but he had to get away. His back hit a wall and he couldn’t get past it, intangibility just out of his grasp.
He logically knew that Zeta Tube wasn't the same as the portal but it was similar. So deadly similar.
He wasn’t sure when his own, corps-like, trembling with rigor mortis cold hands started rubbing his arms. He also wasn’t sure whether it was to comfort himself in this lonely self-hug or to try to rub hard enough that the hazmat and skin underneath would be torn, allowing him to see his own, red blood running in his veins. It was still red, right? It was still red, right? Of course it was still running, why wouldn’t it?
His knees gave up. He fell to the ground with quiet reverbatting thump, his eyes fixated on danger at the other side of the large room. He had to get further away but he couldn’t.
Because he was dying again.
Eyes full of tears and terror were jumping around, unable to see the room around him. Why couldn’t he see anything? Why were there only splashes of various colors, all contrasting with a light gray background. Were these people? Colors were moving, that seemed likely. Ghosts?! He had to get ready if these were ghosts he needed to fight them. People could be in danger and he couldn’t even stand without support. He started it, he had to take care of it, no matter how he felt right now.
His normally overly, unnaturally sensitive ears were filled with constant electric buzz from still active Zeta Tubes.
He was quite sure someone was yelling something but no matter what, Danny couldn’t understand what was being said. He tried looking around again but his teary eyes still failed him. There were no red stains though. Not in the right shade at least. No one was bleeding. It was okay for now.
Was it really? He hadn’t bled when he was dying had his accident though. It was all inside him, the crushing hollowness inside him and infinite outside pressure making his body implode. Ectoplasm bubbling in his mouth, throat, stomach and fingers, silencing his scream of agony and destroying his muscles. His limbs were limp and tense, twitching like a broken light bulb, out of his control but not out of his senses. It was so cold that it bit his bones and so hot that his skin was melting. There were screams so loud that it could shatter glass, as if every inhabitant of the Ghost Zone wanted to be heard and absolute suffocating silence. He was alone like nobody ever was and stuck in a stifling crowd that could stomp him to death any second. It was all contrasting, impossible but happening, existing together. He lived died it.
It was impossible, just like him.
There were others, they could help while Danny got himself together.
They couldn’t help if it was a ghost. He had to calm down and get ready to fight.
He couldn’t.
It was all happening again.
He was dying again.
It hurt to even think about.
Would it at least kill him for good?
Air he hadn’t needed before, not since his first death he always needed, like all functioning, alive human beings, got stuck in his lungs. He was gasping for it, choking on it. There was something stuck in his throat. SOme part of his brain that wasn’t screaming in agony and panic and loneliness had considered tearing his neck open just to get whatever was stuck swallowing but it didn’t help. 
He rubbed his arms harder. His eyes were locked on a blurred, still active portal. One of the color blobs moved, growing larger but he couldn’t think about what it meant. His arms hurt. It was good. Pain was grounding. In a gray room with few portals. Not the basement. Ghosts still could be there but it wasn't a basement. He still needed to get ready to fight
If he could feel pain, it meant he was alive, right? Ghosts never showed that they felt pain right? His parents always said they couldn’t.
He knew it was a lie but he felt like it was his last hope.
He realized that growing group of colors actually looked like a person but he had no way to tell whether they were alive or not. His ghost sense was quiet but he didn’t trust himself to not miss it. His throat was still shut tightly. His body kept twitching like a glitching character. No matter what, he couldn’t fight right then. He had to get himself together.
He scratched his arms almost violently.
Warm, soft, gentle hands pried his palms away from his arms. It wasn't a ghost. Ghosts weren't this gentle, this calmingly warm. Someone, someone who was alive, was crouching in front of him, face at the same level as his, hiding portals from his sight. Danny nearly sunk into their gentle touch.
“-om." their voice also was so gentle, filled with concern but firm enough to get to him over the buzz of portals. He tried to concentrate on this voice. He didn't want to hear portals.
"-ntom." It sounded like they were calling someone. He had to focus more to understand. Gentle grip on his wrists got more firm. There he was. He wouldn't feel it if he was dying again.
"Phantom." They called quietly, like little windbells Sam gave him as a birthday present. It was his name, they were asking him something he couldn't understand, something he couldn't do.
"I'm sorry."
He wasn't sure if any sound came out of his mouth.
Grip on his hands loosened a little, not enough for him to do anything about it, but enough to return to the pure feeling of safety and reassurance it gave him before.
“It's okay Phantom." they murmured. Danny nearly cried at their kindness and calmness. Air slowly started to fill his lungs again. It truly was okay, he wasn't dying again."Can you focus on five things you can see for me?"
He could do it. It wasn't much to repay the gentle person kneeling in front of him.
He blinked tears away and started the list in his head.
Black Canary in front of him.
Superboy in the middle of the room. He looked like he didn't know what to do.
Kid Flash next to him, ready to come to where Danny was shaking on the floor.
Robin and Artemis both made sure that Kid stayed where he was.
Miss Martian for sure feeling his panic and having trouble coping with this. He should calm down as soon as he can, he didn't want to cause any of his teammates too much stress.
Danny nodded, looking once again at the only adult hero in the room.
Molecules in his body were rearranging again. It all hurt.
"Thank you Phantom. Can you focus on four things you can hear?"
Five racing heartbeats.
One heartbeat that sounded more like buzz because of its speed. KF's heart was always weird.
Tapping of someone's feet.
Zeta Tubes.
He had been in the portal again, it had turned on with him inside again. He was dying again.
Next cautious nod.
"Alright. Now three things you can touch." Black Canary still sounded so calm, so sure she had it all under control. So contrary to her panicked heart. Danny wanted to believe her voice.
Canary's hands still on his wrists. In fact she was touching him more than he was her, but it still counted. There was some physics rule about it.
Cold stone he was sitting on. Weird, he was sure this cave was heated.
Hard wall pressing on his spine.
"Excellent. Two things you can smell?"
Jazz had done same exercise with him before.
Cookies made by Megan before she went on a mission.
Ectoplasm. Somewhere there was ectoplasm that wasn't inside him. He couldn't smell his own ecto. But there was no ghost in the cave. His sense was silent. It was there somehow else. It was concerning but not enough to make him panic again. They could handle it.
His lungs were still aching but air started filling them nearly as much as it did normally. His limbs stopped shaking so much too. He knew he wasn't dying this time. He was calming down.
"You're doing great Phantom. Now think, what's one thing you can taste?"
Aftertaste of ectoplasm he spat between the rough fight and the moment when Kid Flash rushed him to the nearest Zeta Tube, talking about medical attention. Danny tried to tell him, he didn't need that but he was inside before his explanation left his mouth.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Yeah," It was all he was able to say at the moment. He truly felt better but that didn't mean good. It was only a little less bad than shitty, one step from fully dead.
I considered writing continuation with Danny explaining a bit what happened and how he even ended up in Zeta Tube but a) lost spark to rewrite it b) hated what already had But if you want, I can probably rub my remaining two braincels together and continue. Or someone else can. Do it if you want to. Do it. Do it
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torchstelechos · 2 months
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Do yall think about the ending of ISAT in any other characters POV? Cause I think about it so much, that must be buck fucking wild. Like, you get to Dormont after MONTHS of traveling with these people, you're feeling strong, you feel like you have a chance, so yall go separate directions to get everything done before the big day tomorrow and your buddy Siffrin goes to take a nap. You're like, ah! Classic Siffrin, so silly and nonchalant about everything, they never once thought we would lose. What a swell fella :). Then not even a full half a day later, more like a few hours later, he appears out of no where with a fucked up face and starts hitting you exactly where it hurts emotionally. No reason! You didn't do a fucking thing! They just fucking went for it! And now you're pissed cause that was a close friend of yours that you considered family, you're sad, you're mad, you dont understand what happened. You meet up with everyone at the clocktower early because apparently he did that to everyone! So good! Good! It's not just a you thing! You all talk it out and you all agree that maybe you should leave them behind tomorrow if they keep acting like this. Except. Except. They never came to the clocktower, they never came to talk to you about what happened and thats. Not acceptable. You need to understand what happened because after sleeping on it, why did he do that? They wouldn't ever do that to all of you, so something must have happened!
And then a Star appears.
And you learn exactly what has been happening behind the scenes but it doesnt make sense. But you know that your buddy just went to solo the house and you know they arent strong enough to do so, you know exactly what their level and strength and weaknesses are and the King is rock type! He's going to kill Siffrin if you dont go save them! So you start running through the house to go save them while the Star guides you, but the doors are all unlocked. There are ghosts everywhere. The hallways dont make sense. Something is broken, failing, and you are running out of time. so you climb up and up and up until finally you get to the final floor and then to the King's room expecting Siffrin to be a splat on the floor but. He's still alive, theres a chance! So you go and protect them from the King but uh, huh. The King is nearly dead? Siffrin almost solo'ed the King? A scissors type versus a rock type nearly won? And it was only a nearly and not a he won because Siffrin was frozen in time? What???? So you freeze the King, you save Siffrin, but they're injured and sick and have a fever so you try to take them to the head housemaiden to get healed but uh. Shes speaking nonsense??? Utter bullshit. Skipping, repeating, saying things out of order, and then she says you all can go home and everything falls apart around you.
Cause Siffrin? Yeah, your buddy who was being a tad bit of an asshole? And they just solo'ed the bad guy without you? Yeah, he's the last boss you need to beat actually. And they're huge! So big! You get ready for them to fight you, except he. Attacks himself. In front of all of you while crying. He's sad. They're hurting themself. You can not do anything but you start to connect the dots and you figure everything out. Then everything becomes normal again and they say what they wished for and hey! You wanted that too! So you hug them as he cries himself out and all of you are tired. That was a lot. They're craft tired and sick but they're okay. So you're happy and relax. They want to go back to Dormont, so you all go. Then THIS LITTLE ASSHOLE WALTZES OFF ONLY TO COME BACK INJURED TO HELL AND BACK???? He said he was going to go say thanks to that Star person, who you still aren't sure is a person but whatever, and then he comes back exhausted and clearly just used craft after being told not to?
And YOU STILL DONT KNOW HOW SIFFRIN BEAT THAT FUCKER AFTER SOLOING THE HOUSE, OR THE DEAL WITH THAT WEIRD SHADE IN THE SKY IN THE SHAPE OF SOME FUCKING WEIRD LEGUME. WHAT. HOW???? WHY??????????
Anyway I think about this a lot, it must have been a long and confusing two days from their POV
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cedarxwing · 4 months
Text
Absolutely FERAL over the hannigram privacy room scene...
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Will is SO disgusted with Hannibal. From his perspective, either:
a) Hannibal thinks Will and everyone else is stupid enough to believe the copycat killer murdered the bailiff.
b) Hannibal is playing dumb to screw Will over in his trial, ensuring he'll get the death penalty.
c) Hannibal killed the bailiff but didn't do it properly on purpose to sadistically dangle Will's freedom in front of him before snatching it away.
Meanwhile, Hannibal looks sooo pathetic. Sad wet cat can't fool Will the way he could in S1 anymore. Ugh, step on him, Will. Squash him like a bug.
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Hannibal's doublespeak here is insane.
"I wanted to dispel your doubts once and for all." <- Obviously, Will's first thought is that Hannibal means, "I want you to believe I'm not the copycat killer." That's the biggest "doubt" Will has about him, after all. But that makes absolutely no sense in this context, because how does a copycat murder happening while Will is in prison help prove Hannibal's innocence? It's doesn't! The opposite, in fact!
So we get a beautiful "what the fuck" moment from Will as he tries to figure out what Hannibal could possibly mean. Is Hannibal admitting that he did kill the bailiff on Will's behalf? Or does he only mean that he wished the secret admirer could be mistaken for the copycat, so that Will won't doubt that Hannibal is trying to get him out of prison?
"I want you to believe in the best of me, Will. Just as I believe in the best of you." <- Line that makes me want to throw Hannibal in a washing machine on a high spin cycle, because how does he always string words together into perfect optical illusions? He sounds like he's still trying to convince Will that he's innocent, but he really means, "I want you to believe that I have the best intentions for you." And to a normal person, "believing in the best of Will" would mean believing in his innocence, but of course Hannibal means that he believes Will is really a killer deep down inside. UGH.
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But this is the moment that really does it for me. When Will won't play along with the bailiff lie, Hannibal throws a TANTRUM. Looking away, fidgeting, complaining that Will's locked away in prison like he's a toy his parents put on a shelf too high for him to reach. This line omits some sentences from the script, boiling them down to this momentary emotional outburst:
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He's goading Will, trying to get him to participate in the "alchemy of lies and truths." Whispering, "Jack and Alana are no better than Kade Prurnell, lying about your sanity because they think you did it. They don't want you to walk free like I do. I'm willing to say whatever (or kill whoever) it takes to get you out of here."
And it works. Will ends up dropping his insanity defense. Is he so sick of prison life that he's willing to risk death for a slim chance at freedom? Or does he trust that Hannibal will do anything keep him out of the electric chair? The night after his plea of not guilty is ruled invalid, alone in his cell, is Will anticipating his own execution or the judge's?
Bonus points for Hannibal's pretty pink paisley tie and matching plaid suit. Babygirl dolled himself up before visiting Will. 💕
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miley1442111 · 2 months
Text
accidents- r.cameron
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader
summary: videos from the past resurface and it doesn't go well for your new relationship with rafe
warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is confused, cursing, drinking, suggestive mentions, mentions of rafe's addictions, mention of sobriety streak being broken, topper is an asshole, (i think that's it?)
not entirely proofread
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Rafe slowly walked into your bedroom. He had no idea what he was doing there, and it scared him. God, why did Topper ever speak? None of this would’ve happened if he’d just kept his mouth shut. 
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Three days earlier…
Rafe watched as you smiled at him across the crowded room. You were so beautiful, so radiant, so real, so his. Everyone knew you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, and in turn everyone knew Rafe was yours, even if you two hadn’t had ‘the conversation’ yet. Rafe wanted you more than anything, Rafe wanted you so much it had started to freak him out. He found himself being kinder, softer, and a lot more calm while he was around you, and even when he wasn’t around you. It felt good. Less people feared him. More people started to see him as a person, not this ‘unreal figure’ on the island. But Rafe was aware of what people said about you now that you two were together. He saw how some girls looked at you, he noticed how guys talked to you, and he always overheard people telling you that he fucked girls and tossed them to the side like they were nothing. He was just hoping that you wouldn’t listen.  
The last three months had been nice, the dates and the parties, but you were getting impatient. You wanted to be Rafe’s girlfriend, not just Rafe’s situationship. Rafe was great, despite the rumours from other people, and he was 5 months clean next week. He was a good guy, you knew that, and that’s what mattered to you. 
“Y/n!” Pope called you over as you scanned the beach for either Rafe or one of the pogues. He grabbed your hand and you ran with him, following as he led you to the outskirts of the party. It was a clear night and the stars were too pretty not to admire as you sat by the campfire beside your friends. Jokes were made, stories were told, and-
“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the laughter and everyone’s heads turned. “I was wondering if we could talk?” His eyes were focused on you. This was awkward and uncomfortable for him. He had apologised, yes, but he was still hated by your friend group because of what he did to you and the rest of them. You’d gotten it the worst though, when he had stabbed you over the gold. You’d almost died. Granted, Rafe has apologised, but that was before you two started… whatever your relationship was, and you hadn’t brought it up since. You didn’t really want to considering the fact that when you two finally had sex, he’d see the scar on your lower right abdomen and know he caused it. It would break his heart. Rafe was a lot more sensitive than people thought and that's partly why you’d been putting off having sex. You knew he’d get upset. 
“Yeah sure,” you smiled, taking his hand and getting up, then turning back to the group. “I’ll be back in a few, ok?”
“Don’t lose her!” John B shouted. 
“Or we’ll kill you!” Jj added, a completely real threat as you chuckled. 
“He’s joking,” you assured an uneasy Rafe. 
“I’m not joking!” Jj shouted again. 
You both walked a little faster. 
“Umm ok so… how do I say this? Top- he’s totally drunk and I-I’m freaking out right now. H-he gave me a drink a-and I thought it was just sparkling water but it had v-vodka in it, a-and now my sober streak is gone and-” Rafe buried his face in your neck, tears spilling over as his panic reached concerning levels. 
“Baby, it’s ok,” you cooed. “It was just a sip, and it was only an accident. We can start again, you can start again. This was only a wobble,” you assured him, your hands rubbing his back as he cried into your shoulder. “Please don’t beat yourself or Topper overt this, we all make mistakes.”
He nodded as he sobbed into your neck, hearing your words. How was it that you could calm him down so instantly, so completely? It wasn’t fair. He’d needed you his whole life, and he only got you now? Bullshit. Well, he’d take what he could get. “I love you,” He whispered and you went rigid. 
Every bone heavy, every muscle tense, blood frozen. Holy shit. 
Rafe Cameron was in love with you. What were you supposed to do? Say it back? You weren’t sure your mouth would open. “Hey pogue?” Topper’s voice cut through the deafening silence and brought you back down to Earth. “What the fuck do you think he’s doing with you?” he chuckled, drink in his hand and a bitter tone in his voice. “He’s going to tell you all his problems, and then he’s going to tell you that he loves you, and then he’ll fuck you a few times, probably be the best fuck of your life, and kick you to the curb!” he laughed. “Rafe Cameron strikes again!” 
Check, and check. The sex was probably coming later. You felt used. 
“Topper what the fuck man?” Rafe turned drying his eyes. “Do you even know how I feel about her?” 
“Yes I do, I remember the words being ‘easy’, ‘sweet’, and ‘virgin’. I still have the video,” Topper pulled out his video,scrolling for a moment as your heart slowly cracked. 
“What about her?” Topper had pointed at you in the video, it was at some party a few months ago. “Y/n Y/l/n.”
“She’s sweet and easy Top, come on, give me a challenge and someone who isn’t a virgin fucking prude,” Rafe laughed and the video continued of them rating girls from the island. 
God, you hated Topper right now. You hated Rafe right now. 
“Oh,” was all you got out before you started walking off, Rafe on your tail. 
“Look I-I’m sorry alright? I didn’t think about it, I didn’t even know you then! And I was drunk and Topper always brings out the worst in me, o-ok? So we can just go back t-to normal, right? You’ll be my girlfriend?” he pleaded but you kept walking, your heart shattering as he kept talking. “I love you!” 
You stopped in your tracks. “I just need… time, ok? Just give me a few days to work this out, ok?”
He nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. 
What the fuck were you going to do?
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“Hey,” he sat down beside you. “I’m so sorry about what I said.”
“It’s ok Rafe,” you shrugged. “Maybe sometimes people just aren’t meant to be.”
His head whipped around to make eye contact with you. Seriously? You were seriously thinking of leaving him? “What?” He whispered, the lump in his throat almost too big to swallow. 
“Rafe… come on. How am I supposed to have any peace of mind in your actual intentions when it stemmed from that video?” You sighed. Rafe was busy staring at admiring you. You were so beautiful, so smart, so… everything he wanted. 
You didn’t think it would hurt him. He’d broken up with tons of girls, you shouldn't be any different. 
You watched as a tear escaped his eye, how he bit the side of his cheek, and how he picked at the skin on his fingers. 
Oh. 
Maybe he did care. Or maybe it was an act. You weren’t sure. 
“I love you,” he whispered. “I meant that when I said it. And Topper’s wrong, I don’t just tell girls I love them. I’ve never told anyone that. Just you.”
Your breath hitched and you took his hand to stop him from picking until it bled. “Calm down Rafe,” you whispered. “It’s ok.”
If being near you calmed him down, having you touch him must’ve been the most soothing and tranquil experience of his life. “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, tears falling. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, I love you and I-I can’t lose you. Please let me make it up to you, I’ll be better for you, I swear-”
“I’m not leaving you,” you whispered, making a split-second decision you weren’t sure you’d regret. “I love you too Rafe.”
He looked up and you wiped some tears away. He smiled, then pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly. You loved being like this, kissing him, holding him, being with him. It was all perfect. His hand brushed your waist and lingered over the scar. He pulled away, sighing and scared, then pulled your shirt up slightly. 
Rafe wanted to sob the second he saw it. He loved you, all of you, so he needed to see it and get over it himself. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, staring at it. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”
You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “People grow, Rafe. People change. It hurt, yes, but I survived. You survived. Life isn’t going to stop just because we’re upset about something, so don’t feel… held back by the past. I’ve accepted it, and you need to as well.”
He pressed his lips to yours again, and smiled for the first time in three days.
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obx masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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00-jammy-00 · 6 months
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Helloo!!^_^
Could I request a yan who everyone likes? Like nobody would suspect yan!
I guess golden retriever!yan? Maybe darling tries to say something but nobody believes them because they think darling is trying to ruin yan’s reputation ? :33
Btw could I be 🍯 anon?
Yan!GoldenBoy HC’s
Yan!GoldenBoy x GN! Reader
Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, nsfw mentions, possessiveness, stalking, yan has mood swings, he’s a little bitch.
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Yan!GoldenBoy who was good looking. He could get anything he wanted with a hand through his hair and a flash of his charming pearly whites. He knew he was handsome, he knew people trusted him, he knew all this and he knew it would only make it easier to get you.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who has been obsessed with you for months! He was playing basketball for his school when he saw you for the first time. You were just sitting on the benches, none of that cringe ‘they were reading a book instead of paying attention.’ you were simply watching the game but you looked so radiant while doing it, he couldn’t help but rush over when the game finished.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who tripped over his own feet to chase you down near the exit, he put an arm around your shoulders and flashed that charming smile. He talked to you for a few minutes, making sure to totally not brag about the fact he was the captain of the basketball team, he was really humble you know?
Yan!GoldenBoy Who offered you a car ride home with those gorgeous honey coloured eyes yet was completely shocked when you said no. You said…no? What the fuck does no mean? Who the fuck do you think you are?! You’re lucky he doesn’t fucking kill you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who just gives you a sweet smile and insists only to clench his jaw when you refuse again. God you’re making this so fucking hard, you’re gorgeous, you’re everything, which means you’re meant to be his for fucks sake.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who vows he’ll never leave you alone. You’re destined to be his, you’re perfect, he’s perfect, so you have to be together, you’re soulmates! He uses a few favours to find out everything about you. Your address, who your family is, where you work, your favourite brand, what your favourite scent is, your zodiac sign, blood type, what hospital you were born at, what cemetery you might want to get buried at. You know, the usual stuff.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who is practically drooling as he jerks himself off to your underwear which he had…borrowed…from your house on his last so called visit. He had cum so much he was having dry orgasms babe! Why do you still not want him?! He could be so good for you!
Yan!GoldenBoy Who sits in his nice car with a pair of binoculars to make sure nothing strange is happening in your room. He’s just keeping you safe, what if someone comes around and tries to steal you?! Don’t worry, your boyfriend is here for you, he’ll protect you. Your boyfriend…god just the idea of being your boyfriend makes him hard all over again.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who doesn’t care if he has to beat the shit out of some people. Your classmate was found with a ripped open chest and a missing heart? That’s terrible babe, but he can be your lab partner now! That one annoying bitch in your class had a bullet between her eyes and her heart missing just like your classmate? How tragic! Don’t worry, you’re safe with him.
Yan!GoldenBoy Who delivers special presents to your door every time a little rat decides to try and ruin his plans. Maybe if he gifts you the hearts from his victims, you’ll let him into yours <3
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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3
please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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hypewinter · 1 year
Text
Dick stared out at the snowy landscape past the window before turning back to his new baby brother. Danny was sitting in his high chair, happily munching away at some Cheerios. Looking at him now Dick thought back to how he had come to Wayne Manor just a few months prior.
Bruce had stormed into the Manor after coming back from a Justice League mission with a bundle in his hands. Dick who had stopped by the manor to steal food catch up with Alfred had been thoroughly thrown off by his father's open animosity. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen Bruce this outwardly furious. The man's glare alone could rival Darkseid's omega beams. As Bruce sat down at the table, the two men finally got a good look at just what he was carrying. It was an infant. An infant who was fast asleep, his soft black hair falling over his eyes. Bruce quietly asked Alfred to prepare a room as well as all necessities needed for a baby. The old butler had immediately set off to just that.
Meanwhile Dick was quick to ask what had happened but Bruce didn't say. Even when the others gradually found what was happening and asked their own questions, he still refused to answer. Not even Alfred had been told where the baby had come from. The only information Bruce had offered up was that the baby's name was Danny and he would be staying at the Manor from now on. As for the rest of the details, he claimed he would tell them in due time. But Batman's "due time" was often too late to actually do anything about it so desperate for answers, the family had turned to their own investigations only to come up with nothing.
All files related to Danny were locked behind a mountain of firewalls and Oracle had apparently already been sworn to secrecy by the big man himself. Whatever it was, Bruce wanted absolutely zero interference, so for now, the family was forced to sit in their hands.
That led till now, 5 months later. It was mid-January and Dick was on babysitting duty. Everyone else was either out running errands or on a mission. Not that Dick minded though. Danny was incredibly cute and he loved taking care of him. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to get Danny to see him as the favorite brother. Still, Dick couldn't help but feel couped up today. Maybe it was because it had been snowing the last few days leaving both boys alone in the giant manor all day long.
Dick stared wistfully out the window once again before an idea dawned on him. He turned back to Danny who had stuffed the last of the Cheerios into his mouth along with his entire hand.
"Hey Danny. Wanna have a snow day?" he asked cheerily. The boy cocked his head at Dick, hand still in mouth. Dick smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes!"
Dick hoisted Danny out of his high chair and carried him upstairs to his room. After he set Danny down in his crib, he grabbed all the gear he needed. He picked out a long sleeve shirt with a cartoon star and big bold letters reading "You're a Star!" He also grabbed long socks, some elastic pants as well as jeans, a scarf, a blue beanie, and a pair of cute little mittens.
It didn't take long for Danny to be fully dressed for the outside elements. Though after Dick finished putting his shoes on, he squirmed a little and made a face.
"I know I know," Dick cooed. "But I'm pretty sure B. would make an exception to his 'no killing rule' if you got sick on my watch."
Dick admired his handy work for a minute (taking dozens of pictures as he did so) before picking his brother up and heading downstairs. After a quick pitstop at the door to grab his own jacket and gloves from the coat rack, he opened the door and greeted the chilly air outside.
Danny giggled as he reached up at the snow while Dick circled around to the side of the manor.
"Bitey! Bitey!" he squealed.
"Yep, Bitey," Dick replied with mild confusion.
Danny would say random things like that sometimes, forcing the world's greatest detectives to put their minds together in order to figure out what he was talking about. One time he just wouldn't stop saying "Em". It took everyone a whole day to realize he was referring to music. And an extra two days to figure out he was specifically referring to pop music.
Oftentimes he would call Barbara "Jazzy" and Duke "Tuck". On occasion he would even call Cass "Sammy". Every time he called something a new name, it was a race to figure out what he meant. Each time they figured out a new word, Bruce's face would darken and he'd disappear off to the Watchtower for the day. Something that was really starting to drag on Dick's nerves. It was like it was physically impossible for that man to share information.
Dick was startled out of his thoughts by a tug at his jacket and looked down to see Danny staring at him.
"Sorry sorry," he said with a smile. "Lost in my thoughts. Forgive me?"
Danny put on a pout but Dick knew by now that it was fake. One could tell by the mischievous look in the boy's eyes that he just couldn't hide. "So be it then!" Dick declared before pulling Danny close and snuggling into him. The boy shrieked as cold nose touched warm neck. "Fo-give! Fo-give!" he cried.
"Aw thanks," Dick said as he pulled away. Danny giggled again, his bright blue eyes crinkling with laughter.
The pair walked around in the snow for a bit longer before Danny started making grabby hands towards the ground. "You want down?" Dick asked. Danny nodded energetically.
"Alright."
Dick carefully set Danny down in the snow. The boy excitedly wriggled before putting his hands down to the snow. As Dick watched, there was a burst of light and suddenly there was a semi circle of ice, radiating out from their position. Dick stared at the ice in shock. Danny turned and blinked up at Dick, almost as if he were in shock too. But he very quickly went back to playing in the snow. Dick swallowed. Sure they all knew Danny had powers. It was pretty obvious when the third day there, he floated up to the ceiling. Still though, he highly doubted ice powers was up there on anyone's list of "abilities our new baby brother might manifest next."
Dick was so shocked all he could manage to utter was, "Huh. That's new."
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