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saetoru · 6 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ SORCERY SCHEMES — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non sorcery au!, husband! suguru, gn! reader, nanako and mimiko are still your kids, silly lil shenanigans of cult leader! suguru being in your dreams

suguru has been the source of your anger for lots of things over the years. some fair, others not so much.

that one important date he accidentally missed because he got caught up at work. that time you vented and he tried to tell you to toughen up instead of picking your side. that time he accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the laundry. that time he fell asleep while you were talking late at night (he had insisted he was tired, in his defense—you were just too stubborn to let him sleep.)

marriage has its ups and downs, but suguru likes to think you’re a strong couple—but this? this is the most outrageously ridiculous reason to be mad at him—he’s simply at a loss.

“so let me get this straight,” he starts slowly, as if trying to comprehend something far too complex for his simple mind, “you’re mad at me because i had some superpowers in your dream—”

“it was sorcery,” you hiss, “were you even listening?”

“right. sorry. i was…a sorcerer,” he apologizes. he looks at you like you’re insane—your eye twitches just a little. “and then suddenly i went crazy in the head and killed a village and adopted nanako and mimiko and…left. to basically cleanse an entire demographic. is that right?”

“you had a cult too.”

“and the cult,” he nods slowly, “can’t forget the cult.”

“yeah,” you glower—if looks could kill, suguru thinks he might have never been born at all. this is a new one, he has to admit. “and it was really fucking rude. you left. and you took the kids before i could even meet them.”

“okay,” he says tiredly, rubbing his forehead, “baby, i don’t know if you realize this, but i don’t…i can’t perform sorcery. and i don’t have a cult i can lead either. i’m just a literature teacher—”

“i know what you are,” you snap, shoving away the hand he tries to reach at you with, “you’re a selfish psychopath who committed heinous crimes and left me single and alone as you led a group of people to follow your crazy ideas. don’t even think about touching me—”

“so do you want me to apologize?” he sighs, “because i’m sorry—”

“what if i left you? huh? and just started killing everyone who has blue eyes? what then? i’ll take the kids this time and leave you alone, see how you like it.”

“well, at least that gets rid of satoru,” he mutters quietly. and then he grins—chuckles a soft little laugh that makes the edges of your lips curl just a bit. “you’re crazy,” he snorts, shaking his head. and then— “but i love you. c’mere.”

you don’t fight the hand the reaches towards you this time, letting his arm curl around your waist and pull you into his side. that’s a good sign, he thinks, so he tests the waters and plants a kiss to your head. you melt just a little.

“i’m still mad at you,” you mumble.

“yeah, i figured,” he grins, “anything i can do to erase my sins as a mass murderer?”

“you can make breakfast,” you hum, leaning closer as you rub circles into his chest, “and wash the dishes.”

“easy enough,” he nods, pulling a scowl from you.

“you’re not off the hook yet,” you click your teeth.

“of course,” he nods in agreement, “i still have to atone for my radical actions. i’ll start by resurrecting all the people i killed. that should do it, right?”

“suguru, be serious,” you huff, “i was very sad, okay?”

“did you miss me?” he wriggles his brows—you look at him incredulously before slapping his chest. he chuckles a little too long for your liking.

“what a stupid question,” you pinch your nose, “so if i became delusional and ran off to erase a population, you wouldn’t be upset with me?”

“actually, i’d follow you because i love you,” he shrugs, pinching your nose lightly, “i’d be your cult’s second-in-command. obviously you just didn’t love me enough in your dream to do the same for me.”

“you didn’t invite me,” you pout through a glare, “what was i supposed to do? show up unwelcome?”

“well, nothing was stopping you. was i at least a strong sorcerer?” he asks in wonder.

you think for a moment before nodding. “yeah,” you say thoughtfully, “one of the strongest.”

“nice,” he grins—he seems a bit too pleased for something that happened in your dreams.

you decide to deal the harsh blow. “but not nearly as strong as satoru. you know he was the literally the strongest?”

“okay,” he scowls, “if you do kill blue-eyed people, start with him.”

you giggle, leaning up to kiss his jaw as he lets a soft grin pull over his features. he laughs with you—and suddenly, you’re both chuckling together uncontrollably.

it’s a bit of a silly circumstance, but he kisses your forehead and means it when he says, “sorry i left you to kill people and led a cult and committed a bunch of crimes while i wiped out a whole group of people. i didn’t mean it.”

“you took the kids too,” you remind him.

“i don’t know what i was thinking,” he shakes his head, “those two are a handful. how was i managing being a single father with all that on my plate?”

“that’s why you shouldn’t have left me,” you point out.

“you’re right,” he agrees, “i’ll invite you if i ever snap and lose my sanity.”

“good. you’re forgiven. now, i want chocolate chip pancakes—and make coffee while you’re at it.”

“yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. he kisses you though, a soft little peck over your lips as you hum into the kiss and cup his cheek, “you got it. whatever you want.”

“i want you,” you murmur, “unhinged sorcerer and all.”

he laughs at the craziness of it all—but he loves it anyway, loves you despite it all.

“and i want you too,” he grins, hopelessly in love, “if you’ll do me the honors and join my crazy sorcery schemes.”

hi i’m tee and i had a dream that my rude ass sister stole my car and totaled it and now im very mad at her and i am not speaking to her until she apologizes. she refuses so im now double mad

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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miserycanary · 1 month

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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him.

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out.

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again.

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love.

| The letter:

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go.

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost riley #simon riley #canary’s symphonies #canary’s melodies

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lis-likes-fics · 3 months

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The Sound of His Voice

Pairings: Spencer Reid x agent!Reader Word Count: 3k words Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/vague gore, mentions of death and murder, standard Criminal Minds stuff, fluff otherwise... A/N: I started watching CM a while ago and now I can't stop so enjoy this. There will be more, I dunno when. (Should I be working on my months-in-progress-wips? Yes, I absolutely should. Am I? Mostly. I'm trying my best)

Morgan rubs his temple, digging his fingers into the side of his forehead as he shakes his head. Tapping his pen on the desk, he tosses down his file. “But here's what I don't get,” he says, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “If the unsub thinks of his victims as prey, even going as far as to torture the victim, why go through all the trouble of tucking them into bed?”

Hotch looks back at the picture in his own hands, where he had been analyzing the scene for the hundredth time in search of something he missed the first hundred. He shrugs, “Tucking them in can usually indicate signs of remorse.”

JJ motions to the pictures. “Yeah, but look at this guy. Does this look remorseful to you?”

You lift a shoulder, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Could be a second unsub.”

You are a relatively new addition to the team. It was your fifth case with them, but they already treated you like part of the team, like family. It was easy to sink into the ebb and flow of everything, especially when they trust your skills and instincts and let you know when you're doing something wrong so you know not to do it again.

But this case was difficult. Your unsub had a strange profile: an organized, white male, with surgical experience and the MO reminiscent of a cat. He kills men and women alike, and the only connection between his victims have been their smaller statures.

The age range itself was too wide, though there was a slight reoccurrence of ages between 25 and 35. But it was still too wide, either way, not enough to work with.

He ties up and tortures them before finally ending their lives with strangulation. He uses his bare hands to get the job done, which makes him a sexual sadist. As if that wasn't enough, he carves out the victim’s heart after death and takes it as a trophy.

He shows plenty of psychopathic characteristics, but he also fits the profile of a sociopath, so it's hard to make anything stick. His MO suggests a lack of empathy and guilt, but the bed-tucking… You always lose him with the bed-tucking…

Morgan shakes his head a little, humming. “But we already ruled out multiple unsubs,” he says. You nod gently. “Besides, if this guy is mimicking the hunting habits of a cat, he would hunt alone, wouldn't he?”

Reid’s head perks up. He points a pen in Morgan's direction as he shakes his head. “Actually, no.” He licks his lips, and he's grabbed your attention like a siren to a sailor. “It's a very common misconception that cats are loners, but it's untrue. Cats prefer the companionship of others just as much as a human being would.”

You lean toward him a bit across the table, watching him as he speaks, his hands moving to illustrate his words as he does. “People often think, because of their aloof nature, that they like to be left alone or actually despise the presence of other people, including their owners or other cats—which is why people believe them to be low maintenance creatures. But they are just as social as, say, a dog. Actually, it's interesting, big cats like lions, or sometimes even cheetahs, hunt in packs to take down larger prey. Domestic cats–”

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, making a cutting motion with his hand to his neck.

Your eyes turn back to Spencer, who seems to retreat in on himself a bit as he gives an apologetic smile and a small nod. “Sorry,” he says, pulling his lips in a wide smile.

You set a hand on the table, shaking your head. “No, keep going. That was interesting.”

Spencer looks at you with these eyes that seem to shine. Your heart feels fonder, warmer, at the sight of him.

“We really don't have time to go through all of this,” Hotch says, his tone final.

“I mean,” you continue. Since joining the team, you've grown a certain affinity toward Spencer and his genius mind. Every time he's gone on his tangents, you've become enchanted by the words coming out of his mouth like he's put some sort of spell over you. You lift a shoulder, gesturing toward him. “If this guy is basing his MO off the hunting patterns of cats, we should…know everything we need to know about them, right?”

Hotch looks at you, his face hard and unreadable. You're unsure if he's considering your proposal or just trying to intimidate you. But then he sighs, his crossed arms loosening a little as he turns to Spencer.

“Reid?”

Spencer looks between you and Hotch, relenting hesitantly as he starts off slow. “Well…I was going to say domestic cats are solitary hunters but sociable creatures.” He picks up his normal speed once more, “They can be very affectionate, especially toward their owners and other cats within their households. They're also one of the only types of cats who play with their prey before killing them, which could be a reason this unsub tortures his victims so extensively in his murders.”

“Wait…” Prentiss says, catching all of your attentions. “You said ‘affectionate toward their owners’.”

“Yeah,” Spencer nods.

She waves her hands gently, “How do cats show affection for their owners?”

Spencer shrugs, “Um, bunting, purring, some scratch, sometimes they leave offerings, like dead rodents, around the house–”

“Right there!” Prentiss exclaims. “They leave offerings.”

You sit up, “The hearts.”

Hotch’s dark brows furrow. “You're saying this unsub is taking the hearts as an offering to someone else?”

Spencer thinks over that, nodding. “It's possible.”

JJ sighs. “But that still doesn't explain why we wouldn't have identified a second unsub earlier.”

Spencer holds out a hand, pointing with his pen. “Actually, it could. You see, cats also have the tendency to mimic the people they hold affection for. We might not have noticed a second MO because the submissive unsub may be mimicking the dominant one.”

“Or learning from him,” Morgan says.

“Learning?” Hotch asks.

Morgan glances around, “Well, if we're sticking so close to this cat thing, older cats often nurture the young and teach them to hunt.” He shrugs, “We could be looking at…brothers? Older and younger?”

“Or lovers,” JJ suggests. She points to a picture, the image of a chest carefully carved open to reveal a missing heart. “If the hearts are offerings, it could be a Valentine.”

“And the bed-tucking?” you ask.

Hotch picks up the picture of one of the victims, “safely” and securely tucked into bed…put to sleep. “Well, if the hearts are offerings for a lover, this unsub is sentimental. He could feel some type of sympathy or guilt for the victim and want to ‘put them to sleep’ after the torture.” He studies the image, a flash of unease behind his eyes that you know all too well. He sets it down.

“Okay, so how do we find them?” Prentiss asks, clicking her pen before setting it down to begin a definitive course of action.

Spencer points to yet another picture. “Look at these injuries. These incisions are surgical,” he clarifies. “So the dominant is a doctor or a—a veterinarian, which can be implied through his intimate knowledge of cats’ behaviors.”

“And the submissive might work under him as a nurse or an assistant,” you continue, adding on to his clever insight. He glances over at you, smiling almost giddily at your understanding.

Hotch turns to Morgan. “Do you think that's enough to work with?”

Morgan thinks for a moment, his shrug melding into a nod as he turns back to Hotch. “To fit in with the rest of the profile,” he hums, “I'd say so.”

“Okay.” Hotch nods firmly. “We'll present the profile ASAP. Morgan, get Garcia to search for any vets in the area with any records of assault charges.” He says this all while taking long strides toward the door, his red tie bouncing slightly with his movements.

Prentiss follows him with her gaze as he exits. “You think the unsub is aggressive?”

He turns briefly. “Look at the bruising on the neck. The torture alone is an indicator of anger and frustration, but the way the victim was strangled suggests force. Much more than necessary just to crush a windpipe. He's an organized killer with a lot of rage. If he moves more along the lines of a sociopath, our best guess is he's had some kind of trouble with the law at some point in his life,” he concludes. Glancing aside, he speaks again, a little more firmly. “Morgan.”

“On it,” he says, his phone already ready to contact Garcia on speed dial.

“And Reid,” Hotch says, focusing his hard stare on the younger agent.

He stiffens, straightening his back and awaiting his response. “Yes?”

There's a pause as Hotch examines him silently. With a single nod, he says, “Good work.”

He glances at you. A nod.

You nod back.

Hotch leaves in a hurry, and your gaze immediately and instinctively flicks to Spencer. He smiles at you, turning away as though he was shyly hiding that same smile.

There were two unsubs: a surgical veterinarian and his nurse. You caught them just in time, just as that knife was gleaming in the golden light of the lamps swinging above the three bodies down in the basement of the submissive unsub’s house.

And now you soared 40,000 feet above the ground with another killer put away for good.

Everyone's in their own spirit, placing you across the aisle from JJ and Spencer in their own booths, a crochet set in your lap as you continue one of your projects. Emily's eyes linger on JJ, watching the crease of her brow as she studies case files.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, setting her book to the side to shift her attention. Derek darts his eyes up from his own book, lifting his brow as he does it.

JJ looks up, breathing in and lifting her shoulder in a half shrug. “I don't know about you,” she says, “but I know that if I got an actual human heart on Valentine's Day, me and my alleged partner would have some serious issues.”

Snorts and chuckles lift from multiple places among the seats, heads shaking and attentions shifting back to their own activities.

But as soon as you hear the first lilt of Spencer's voice, like clockwork, you're a fish on a hook.

“Actually,” he begins, “if we were set back thousands of years, that would not be a very unusual occurrence.” He licks his lips quickly, “You see, Valentine's Day’s origins actually go back to a festival called Lupercal, or Lupercalia. The festival was in itself a very violent and sexually charged affair that lasted roughly three days—from the 13th to the 15th—set in Rome. Its traditions were carried out in two separate locations, firstly–”

“Alright,” JJ rises to her feet, her eyes wide in annoyance as she closes her case file in a large announcement to Spencer. “I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?”

Spencer purses his lips, that same wide, apologetic grin covering his face as he leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “Uh, no. All good here.”

She nods, turning to walk away, “Great.”

You watch JJ leave, your eyes fall back upon Spencer, who's pulling his book back into his palms to turn his focus back on the pages. His eyes flit over the words at lightning speed, absorbing the information and moving to the next.

Taking your crochet set in your hands, you stand and plop down in JJ’s old spot. Spencer's eyes darts up to you, glancing between you and his book as you set your stuff down and readjust your yarn.

Beginning again, you nod toward him. “You were saying?”

Spencer, his eyes wide and confused and his lips parted in wonder and his cheeks a little pink, stares at you. After remembering he had to respond, he sputters in an attempt to.

“Uh, it's-it's really not that…interesting,” he mumbles, trailing off at the end as he sets his book down, his fingertips pressing against the edge of the desk between the both of you.

“Well,” you look up at him, setting your elbow on the table and tucking your first underneath your chin, “I was very interested.”

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. His lips form the word before it comes out of his mouth. “You were?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

Looking at him for a moment—just looking at him for a moment—you take in the pretty sight of his bewildered expression, fascination and confusion and excitement crossing his face in a flurry of emotion.

You move your elbow from the table and pick up your hook, nodding toward him before training your eyes on your work again as you await his words. “Firstly?” you prompt.

Scrambling to organize his thoughts, Spencer nods. As the words form in his brain, he smiles as he thrusts himself into another rant, speaking a little softer so as not to aggravate the rest of the team.

“Well, firstly, the uh— The-the first location was in a cave called Lupercus—named after the Roman fertility god that the celebration was dedicated to—and the second is a public meeting place called the Comitium.”

You tilt your head toward him, smiling a little. “Like the word ‘committee’.”

“Exactly like the word ‘committee’,” he beams.

Your attention, as hard as you tried to split it, becomes entirely caught up in Spencer as you forget about your project and focus your gaze entirely on him. You set your arms on the table separating you and watch as he speaks, your smile definitely too love-sick to be a hint anymore. He seems to lean in closer.

“So how did Lupercalia become Valentine's Day?” you wonder aloud.

“Well,” he starts, prompting a larger grin from you, “in the late 5th century A.D., Pope Gelasius I eliminated it and declared February 14th a day to celebrate the martyrdom of Saint Valentine instead—although it's highly unlikely he intended the day to commemorate love and passion as it is celebrated now. In fact, some modern biblical scholars warn Christians not to celebrate Valentine's Day at all, due to its Pagan roots and rituals.”

You hum, your eyes taking glances at the stretch of his skin over his fingers and the way they move when he speaks.

“Do you celebrate Valentine's Day?” you ask gently, speaking slowly.

His hands fall back down to his lap, and he shakes his head as he straightens his posture a bit. “Well…I don't usually have anyone to celebrate it with, so… No, not really.”

Feeling the shyness slipping into your veins, you set your hands on the table and let your fingers slowly inch toward him, staring at them inside of his eyes. You don't want to see the rejection if it lives there, in his eyes.

You speak slowly, emphasizing every syllable. “Would you like to have someone to celebrate it with?”

He swallows thickly, letting one hand lift onto the table, still close to him but building up courage to maybe meet you in the middle. “Like…” he clears his throat quietly. “Like you?”

You offer a right smile, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his and feeling giddy at the light blush on his cheeks, the nervous wideness of his gaze. “I promise no actual hearts.”

You watch him, and again…his eyes, his Adam's apple, his cheeks, his lips. “Uh…yeah,” he stutters. “Yeah, sure. I'll be your…your Valentine.”

You smile, a wide smile that splits your face in two. Spencer's own grin follows suit. Looking past you, he catches the eyes of Derek, who smirks and offers a cheesy thumbs up, proud of him for securing you as he did.

His gaze falls back to you when you begin to speak, your voice just as song-ish to him as his is to you. You're both equally as infatuated as the other. “You know,” you trail off slowly, “supposedly, Saint Valentine might be so commonly associated with our day of love because there are rumors that he used to perform secret weddings against the wishes of the authorities in the third century.”

He nods slowly, his brows furrowed slightly. “Yes, that's right…” Licking his bottom lip, he speaks again. “You already knew all that stuff about Lupercalia, didn't you?”

You smile, your face squished a bit as you raise your hands and close your thumb and forefinger close together. “Maybe a little,” you whisper. But then you shrug and just keep looking at him. “But I like listening to you talk.”

Spencer suddenly doesn't think you're real, but he isn't about to question it if you aren't. There's someone who enjoys his tangents. He isn't going to jeopardize that.

“Oh,” is all he says.

With your crocheting long forgotten, you lean forward on the table and give him every ounce of attention in your mind. With a fond smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye, you rest your chin on your folded hands. “You should tell me about…” you pause, thinking, before you smile curls even more, “bees.”

His brows lift as he nods. “Okay, well,” he starts, “did you know the first civilization to practice widespread, organized beekeeping was the Ancient Egyptians, who began beekeeping around 2,500 BCE?”

Your brows lift in fascination. You shake your head, “No, I didn't.”

His smile grows. “Well…”

For the remainder of the flight, Spencer talks and talks and talks, his voice quiet and meant solely for you as he talks about whatever you want: bees and wine and marbles and Halloween. He keeps smiling at you, as you keep smiling at him. Somewhere along the way, he officially asks you on a date, and you both get off the jet together to get a cup of coffee.

You love the way he talks.

Criminal Minds taglist: ... Tag yourself here...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #female reader

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rivatar · 23 days

Text

“You’re Mine Now”

Pairing: Aged!Up!Lo’ak x fem!omatikayan!reader

W/c: 2.5k (oops)

Warnings/content: MDNI, heavy smut, non-con, dacryphilia, innocence/corruption kink, possessive & rough Lo’ak, reader is a virgin, cream pie, (lmk if I missed any!)

A/n: this is for prompt 4 of Pandora’s Bloody Moon. I know Bia’s acc is deleted but @hidden-snow asked that we continue the event. So here ya go, ya filthy sluts 💖

Also credit to @sugarsong78 for creating the idea of the Blood Moon! ❤️

P.S. if any of you have watched the movie Fear with Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon— it’s kinda giving that whole psychopath vibe 🤭👀

Lo’ak had always had eyes for you. Sure, he got around and had his fair share of girls, but you made him unbelievably curious and he came to the conclusion that he needed to corrupt you before anyone else did, or he would never be satisfied.

Maybe it was because you were so untouchable. He was certain you were a virgin because he knew almost all the other guys have tried to sweet talk you and always end up failing, just like he did. He had thought he would have an advantage as the Olo’eyktan’s son but you still turned him down, much to his frustration.

It wasn’t that he was desperate for sex, he could easily hook up with many of the other omatikaya girls. But something about you always intrigued him and drew in his attention. Maybe it was the chase that he liked so much, the fact that you wouldn’t give into him made him want you more, like a challenge. He spent far too much time thinking about you and wanting to know more about you. He would talk to you and joke with you whenever he could, constantly trying to just earn a spot with you. There was even times he thought of you when he was fucking another girl so that he could finish. He was infatuated and wanted to have you and ruin you. He wanted to show you how good he can make you feel and watch you crumble over and over again though multiple orgasms until you were shaking from being overstimulated. He wanted to be the first. But how could he if you wouldn’t even give him the slightest chance?

Tonight was the night the Blood Moon would make its appearance; all Na’vi knew and many prepared themselves the best they could. A lot of families essentially locked themselves inside their houses and took sleeping medicine so that they wouldn’t be awake and outside roaming in their demon form.

On the other hand, a lot of Na’vi embraced this phenomenon. They thought of it as a natural way of life and it should be able to take its course through them for just one night of the year. Eywa made no mistakes to them, so surely there was a reason for this too.

Lo’ak was aware this was tonight and he made up his mind and had a plan in order. He was going to find you and have you, no matter what. And the scheming bastard was so clever that he already knew he was going to blame his shameful behavior on the Blood Moon’s effect on him, so that hopefully you would forgive him afterwards.

…

You on the other hand, were one who didn’t want to participate in this and you were going to take all the precautions to avoid everyone and the consequences. This wasn’t your first rodeo, you’ve done this before on this night each year and have been fine. Your process was to close off your entrance so one would come in and so the moonlight wouldn’t touch you and make you possessed. Once the Blood moonlight hit the Na’vi skin, it was game over.

To trap yourself in, years ago you had made a woven covering supported with wooden beams that covers where your opening to your hut is. It was still evening but you would rather be safe then sorry so you put it up and tied it securely to the sides of your hut to keep it in place.

Then you sat and waited and ate your dinner alone. Praying to Eywa nothing would happen to you tonight.

…

You lifted the covers on your cot to tuck yourself in, deciding to try and go ahead and go to sleep.

Your ear twitches as you hear a sound outside your living space, as if someone was walking up to your blocked-off entrance.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

Your heart dropped as you stared fearfully at your makeshift door being banged on repeatedly.

“YAWNEEEE!! ITS LOAKKK!!” He shouted loudly while still banging the door.

What in Eywa’s name? Lo’ak?? Yawne???

You were so shocked you didn’t speak, not knowing what to say and hoping maybe he’d go away. He wouldn’t be in his right mind right now.

The banging continued. “You gonna let me in??? Or do I have to break in myself??” He yelled while obnoxiously laughing.

“L-Lo’ak, please go away! I’m trying to sleep,” you tried to deny his request politely.

“Nahhh baby, why would I leave when I need you so bad?? Think I’ll dieee if I don’t get you!”

What the hell? This cannot be happening. Your heart was pounding and your hands were clammy in fear. He was literally insane right now.

Then he used all his strength which was heightened right now to shake and break your barrier down, snapping the ties loose and it fell forward with a thud in front of him.

Standing at the door, he instantly made eye contact with you sitting on your bed.

The sight of him was enough to make you nearly piss yourself. His skin was grey and his freckles were bright red, a much different look from his normal vibrant blue. But his eyes were the most horrific part; replacing the normal yellow tint, they were now red orbs glowing in the dark of the night. He smiled devilishly from ear to ear, flashing his even larger fangs and ran his tongue over his teeth like you were his delicious prey. He looked deranged, like a psycho.

“Hi, yawne,” he whispered eerily, still smiling and staring deep into your soul. It seemed to make him smile bigger seeing how terrified you looked trying to cower back onto the bed. You noticed the tent in his loincloth and tears started forming in your eyes. You knew another effect of the Blood Moon was heightened sexual urges.

“Lo’ak please!! Don’t do this!!” You begged.

He quietly stalked closer to you until he could kneel next to your bed. He was even scarier up close.

“Why not? I don’t think I can wait a second longer, baby,” he rubbed your leg and you jumped at the contact.

“I don’t want to!” You cried, warm tears cascading down your cheeks.

You looked into those eyes and didn’t see the Lo’ak you normally knew. No, he was possessed right now, of course it wasn’t really him.

He ran his calloused hand up your leg to cup your pussy through your cloth. You barely whimpered in both terror and sudden pleasure shooting up your spine as you continued crying.

He grinned more. He thought you looked so pretty when you cried.

He then moved your loincloth to the side to touch your bare cunt.

“You’re wet already. You may not want this but your pretty pussy is crying out for me,” he tried convincing you; and subconsciously himself.

He slid a finger inside you swiftly and watched your face intently for a reaction. You were trying so hard not to give him any reaction but you have never felt this before so the pleasure was an unknown feeling for you that you couldn’t control.

All you could do was stare at him as your chest heaved up and down, adjusting to the new stretch his long finger provided.

He pulled it back and slammed back in. A gasp slipped out of your mouth as your pussy fluttered, gripping him perfectly.

“Fuck, that little virgin pussy is sucking me in so tight. Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you out a bit before you have to take my cock,” Lo’ak said.

“Please stop,” you begged again and shook your head ‘no’, yet feeling betrayed by your body succumbing to the pleasure.

Your unwillingness seemed to only make him want you more. He was determined to make you take it and make you cum and feel good. By the end of it you were gonna like it, he promised himself in his mind.

“But you’re doing so good. I gotta claim you as mine now,” he stated plainly, as if that wasn’t a big deal nor required your consent.

He pumped his finger into you and you felt an unfamiliar tightening and gooey feeling in your lower stomach. It felt so good after the initial stretch. You tried to not moan but you couldn’t help it, so you threw your head back so you at least wouldn’t have to look at him. You spread your legs more without even thinking. He didn’t want to wait any longer to ravish you, and ruin you and your innocence.

He suddenly yanked your loincloth off and decided your top needed to go too so he ripped it off as well, leaving you on display for him.

He nearly drooled at the sight, you were like a fresh meal set out and prepared for him, all for his taking.

“Gonna make you cum first before I fuck you,” he told you.

He lowered his head to lick at your clit and continued pumping his single digit. The feeling of his rough tongue was something else, it was entirely foreign and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. It was heavenly.

He then added another finger, assuming you were ready for it by the way your wetness coated his fingers and knuckles. Your sounds of pleasure tumbled from your lips and he savored every one of them like the sweetest song to his ears.

“Feels good, right?” He asked sensually.

You nodded your head and gave a whiny, pathetic “mhmm”

“Yeah I know it fucking does. Should’ve done this to you a long time ago”

Your brain didn’t register that he wanted to do this before now, too. Your adrenaline coursed through your veins and all your senses were heightened. So many unfamiliar feelings all at once and you had no choice but to lay and take it.

“I-It feels weird,” you panted “like I’m about to pee” your eyebrows scrunched up.

He laughed at your pure innocence, it filled him with so much pride and his ego swelled.

“That means you’re gonna cum. Poor girls never felt an orgasm before, huh?”

Your heart sped up faster and the pleasure increased more and more, rushing you towards the climax.

“You never even touched yourself? Really?”

You shook your head no, barely processing his words.

He made a noise almost like a growl. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. So fucking sweet and innocent, all for me to corrupt”

And just like that, you felt a release rush through you and taking over your body. You shook uncontrollably and yelled loudly, conquering your first ever orgasm. He kept licking and pumping to prolong it. It then turned into oversensitivity and you pushing his head away the best you could. He decided to be nice and let off you.

You panted and tried to come back down from it, exhausted already. He chuckled and smiled at you as he licked up all your mess off his face and hand. Your eyebrows were still crunched, but right now it was in confusion and horror at how nasty he was— that just seemed so dirty.

Without saying another word, he pulled down his loincloth to let his cock spring out. You looked at it in curiosity and fear.

“Never seen one of these before, have you?”

You weakly shook your head no, wondering how in the world that was supposed to go inside you?

He started jerking himself slowly and you watched him, frozen in your place. He didn’t take his eyes off you, those red eyes boring into your soul.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he roughly commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.

You knew you had no choice but to obey, so you slowly and hesitantly did so.

“Good. Now arch that pretty back some”

You again did as he said, poking your ass out more for him.

“Mmmm. What a beautiful sight,” he spoke in awe and approval. He was checking out every part of you like this, staring mainly at your glistening, puffy cunt all eager and ready to be taken.

You were scared of him in his current state and trying to get this over with. You were sure he was gonna hurt you with his cock, judging by the size of him.

You heard him lower himself to his knees behind you and then felt his hand grab onto your hip. He lined himself up and you gasped when you felt his tip make contact with your hole.

“Gonna make you mine now. Your mind, body, and soul will be connected to me now. You never forget your first. And don’t worry, you’re gonna love this cock,” he said.

You weakly turned your head towards him and nodded, not wanting to anger him while he was like this. He could kill you right now if he wanted to.

“Beg for it”

“W-What?”

“I said fucking beg for it. Act like you want it.” He demanded harshly. “Good girls say please”

“Please, Lo’ak” you whimpered weakly.

He spanked your ass hard. “Say it like you mean it!”

“Please! Please! I need it!”

“Good girl,” he finally praised.

Shifting his hips forward, he pressed inside you. The stretch due to his thick girth was even better than he imagined. You were so warm and wet and tight for him.

You winced in pain at the stretch but honestly took it like a champ. You didn’t want to sound pathetically in pain because of him and let him win this.

“You feel so good,” he groaned deeply.

He started thrusting, setting a brutal pace. He was lost in the feeling, he had never felt a pussy this good.

You moaned and tried to cover your noise with your hand. You felt so full and his dick was reaching to where his fingers couldn’t get to. He pressed his back over you and grabbed under your jaw to bring your face next to his. This caused your back to arch more, your flesh smacking and getting louder and louder

“Taking it so well. Be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?” He asked while tilting his head to look at your face, sloppily kissing your cheek.

You hummed and moaned, not really answering him. Your face was scrunched up and your eyes occasionally opened to look at the ceiling. You were caught up in your pleasure too and were losing all your thoughts.

Before you could register, the feeling came again and your orgasm ripped through you. You made a mess on his dick as your juices flowed out while you convulsed on his length.

“Fuck! That’s so hot,” Lo’ak grunted, watching your pussy cream on his cock. It was more than enough to make him finish too.

“Gonna fill you up now so you’ll smell like me and all the guys will know I claimed you for myself before they could”

His cum spurted inside you and painted your walls pearly white. You felt the warmness and the way everything got even more slippery as his dick was still fucking you, getting every last drop of cum out.

He finally slowed down and you slumped to the floor, absolutely exhausted.

“Good job yawne, I’m so proud of you,” he praised sweetly, quite contrary to the way he appeared— looking like a demon from a nightmare.

He rose up to go over and grab the boundary he broke through earlier. Your ears perked up and wondered what he was doing.

“Gotta make sure no one else wonders in here with us,” he answered your unspoken question.

“You’re mine now.”

Taglist/moots: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @ikeyniofthetayrangi @loakstahni @inolaphoenix @property-of-neteyam @loak-te-suli @nonamevenus (if you don’t wanna be tagged just lmk!!)

#atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar smut #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #loak sully #loak #loak x y/n #loak smut #loak x you #loak fanfiction #loak x reader #loak x omatikaya!reader #atwow loak #smut #atwow smut #atwow x reader #rivatar

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darthmalewife · 10 months

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I see so many modern AUs that have Obi-Wan as like a teacher or something and he always reads romance novels and old history stuff and while I absolutely believe that I think we're missing the opportunity to also have him read really fucked up psychological horror and just general horror novels. Like think of the opportunities:

Anakin: what's happening in your book now?

Obi-Wan: the main character has just realised the ring her boyfriend gave her actually has one of her dead sisters teeth in it :]

Anakin: oh, that's fun :/

Or Cody picking up his book to skim over what it's about and he ends up texting Rex

Cody: i think my boyfriends a psychopath

Rex: i told you so, i've seen what kinda bland shit he eats

Cody: he's british leave him alone, i meant the book he's reading, it's about a woman who talks her girlfriend into giving herself a tapeworm because they're long distance lesbians who can't get pregnant

Rex: you do know how to fucking pick them don't you, what are the pros to you staying in this relationship other than you getting murdered

Cody: have you seen the man's legs?!

Rex: stop being gay and go back to your serial killer boyfriend

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #commander cody #codywan #captain rex #cody x obi wan #Cody tries to read 1 of his books #he gets halfway through gives up and never asks again #windu has the same taste so they have a 2 person bookclub where they just talk books bitch and drink wine #mace windu

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year

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Could you write Xavier X FemReader in which the reader is Wednesday’s family member (sister, cousin, etc) and her and Xavier we starting to get close then all of a sudden her starts acting cold/rude so she thinks she did something wrong and he hates her when in reality Xavier has started being mean is because he’s been in love with her since he saw her but she’s been getting really close with Tyler so she confronts him and he does an angry love confession????

it's you I think of

xavier thorpe x reader

summary: xavier tries to win the heart of the other addams sister, but she just doesn't seem to get the message.

warnings: bit angst but mostly fluff

A/N: Thanks for requesting anon! hope you like this!

°°°

"So, is your name based on weekdays too or?" The long haired boy started as he stands beside you, observing your position as you shoot your arrow and misses again.

You sigh and he steps closer with your back to his chest as he guides your hand with the arrow. "Here, like this."

You feel your heart speeds up but says nothing as you watch him take the lead and hits the arrow straight to the aim.

He slowly steps aside and smiles at you. You give a small smile and gives him your name.

He fakes gasp, "Oh she speaks?" When you roll your eyes and drop your smile he immediately makes it clear he was just joking.

"I know, I'm not easily offended, there's been worse things said to me." You state, picking up another arrow to practice.

"So, do I have to assume you are as terrifying as your sister?" He asks with a teasing grin.

"Oh no, I'm afraid she has already claimed the title of homicidal psychopath in our family, truly the pride and joy of the Addams name. As for me, You'll learn soon enough." You explain, this time your arrow hits straight to the aim, You lower your bow in pride.

"So you mean to say we might end up close enough for me to learn about you myself?"

he had too many questions.

You shook your head and thank him for his lessons before walking away to your dorm room.

°°°

Despite being roommates with Yoko, she has not made a single effort to befriend you, as glad as you are for the peace, you could tell it's because of the growing closeness between you and Xavier, the girls were ignoring you in solidarity to Bianca.

You were thankful for that.

It wasn't that you asked Xavier to befriend you, but he was persistent in knowing you, and he seems to respect your boundaries enough to not push you or cross the line, so you accepted his friendship, it was nice to share the quietness with someone else sometimes.

He has even let you sit in the corner of his shed to watch him paint and sketch.

That was probably your favourite activity these days, the comfortable silence and watching him fully concentrate on his artworks.

Today was one of the days you'd get to watch him work, he had sat beside someone else during their classes together that afternoon, but you assumed their routine still remained.

Walking towards the shed, you notice chains around the handles of the door. It was definitely locked as you try to pull it off.

This was confusing, if he wasn't coming today then why wouldn't he tell you?

Bumping into Bianca as you're walking back to your dorm, you gave it a chance and asked her if she knew where Xavier was.

Her scoff and smile was mocking. "Aw, did he finally decide drop your deadweight of an ass?"

You raise your eyebrows at her challenged.

"That's weird, last time I checked, it was you that got dumped." Indulging in her baffled expression, You walk past her to continue looking for your friend.

He wasn't in the library or any of the classes. The last place there was to check was his room, a place you don't think you're allowed to.

°°°

The next day was busy as everyone prepared for the rave'n dance. You weren't much of a partier, but you had hoped to ask a certain someone, so you made an effort to search for a decent enough dress.

You snatched the first dress that caught your attention, not liking the whole experience you had force yourself to go through. It was emerald coloured dress, giving in to the assigned flora and fauna theme this year.

Stepping into the local coffee shop, you were met with Tyler as he prepared you your usual.

"You look burnt out, went hiking or something?" He questions.

You chuckled. "Dress shopping." He raises his eyebrows and grin.

"Oh you're going to Rave'n then? Didn't seem like the type that would, got a date?"

Your smile slowly drops as you shook your head.

He nods understanding. "Well, I mean, if you're looking for one, I'm always free this Saturday." He winks and you bite your cheeks.

His attention snaps to the door as the bell rings.

and a customer enter. You turn around and widen your eyes in suprise to see Xavier.

His too as he takes your appearance in.

He walks closer, turning to look at Tyler, then back at you.

Tyler uncomfortably backs away from leaning at the counter to you and clears his throat.

"Uh, want a coffee?" He asks Xavier slowly.

He nods carefully, before taking a seat next to you, watching Tyler move to the espresso machine.

"Didn't know you two are friends." He starts.

You let out an annoyed laugh and glares at him.

"Really?" He blinks, not understanding what you mean.

"You don't answer my texts, didn't tell me you weren't going to be at the shed, and now you're talking to me like you haven't been ignoring me?" You snapped.

"Wha- I've been busy, I forgot-"

"You've been busy, you forgot, which one is it?" You Interrogate.

"Both! Look, I'm sorry alright, I should've let you know, I forgot." He explains as Tyler brings you both your coffee.

Xavier's eyes wanders to the paperbag in your hand. "Is that a dress? You're going to the rave'n?" He asks suspiciously.

"Why shouldn't I?" You ask defensively.

"I didn't say you shouldn't, I just- I mean, do you have a date?"

You instinctively nodded. "I'm... going with Tyler! Right, Tyler?" You immediately turn to him, silently begging him to agree.

Tyler, playing along, nods and confirms.

Xavier's expression changed, and the guilt in his eyes turns blank as he processes what you said.

"Oh." Disappointment laced his voice for some reason. He snatch his coffee and stand to leave. "I'll uh, see you later then." He says briefly before leaving.

you feel the pit of your stomach churn as you thank Tyler.

°°°

The Rave'n dance was unspeakably boring. You'd rather be in your room and read with Chopin playing in the background.

Instead you're stuck here awkwardly eating your cake with Tyler by your side.

You spot Xavier by Bianca's side as they walk in together, his eyes meet yours and the betrayal you feel was deep. He had gone back to her.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Xavier's gaze burning through your back as you walk away.

You pull back tears and touched up your lipstick after repeating the breathing exercise Kinbott has taught you.

Feeling less upset and more out together aftet successfully preventing a breakdown, you walk out towards your date.

Only to find him on the dancefloor with your sister, Wednesday.

Of course, he had only asked you to get close to her. No one ever wanted you for you.

You were glad you didn't really like him and disappointedlu went to grab a drink. You scan the room and notice Bianca dancing with Yoko, It was then that you notice Xavier wasn't anywhere to be seen. You frown and walked out while no one notice. The idea of knocking on his door was halted as you remember you weren't allowed there, If you were caught, it wasn't the punishment you were scared of but rather the embarrassment.

There was only one option left.

°°°

Climbing through windows and walls, you pull out a small screwdriver, unlocking the window next to his bedside, before pushing it open and jumping in.

As your feet lands on his bed, you hear him yelp and swear loudly. There he was in all his glory, in front of the bathroom door.

"[name]?!, What the fuck? Did you seriously just climbed through my window-"

"You weren't at the shed today, and you stopped sitting next to me in class. In fact if I'm remembering it right, you didn't even want me in the shed with you last week too." He turns quiet, eyes not meeting yours.

"You're avoiding me, why?" You ask, making him scoff and turn away from you as he walks towards Rowan's old bed.

You walk to him, pulling him by his hands to look at you.

"Did I do something? Have I offend you?" You go straight to the point.

He frowns. "Offend me? God are you clueless or something."

Saying that you were confused would be an understatement.

"Let's say that I am, spell it out for me then."

He shook his head and pushed your hand away. "I'm not- I'm not offended, okay? Just leave, okay? Go back to your date, and not by the windo-"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." You insist and he sighs.

you two stood like that for a few seconds, refusing to grant eachother's request.

You broke the silence first, unable to take it anymore.

"Xavier, you are my first friend ever, besides my old pet tarantula spider that was accidental killed in our washing machine." He makes a face of disgust.

"I- What I mean is, If I had done anything to hurt you, it was probably accidental, I am not the best when it comes to making friends, let alone, keeping then." You notice his body relaxing as his gaze softens.

"I would understand if you no longer want to associate with me, but I would be very grateful if you could tell me why." You pleaded, heart breaking.

You didn't think you could ever feel this upset.

People had always assumed you were as heartless as your sister, given your awkward and introverted personality.

But the truth was you used your antisocial personality as a wall againts human interaction because you were sensitive. Your heart was the opposite of Wednesday's.

Xavier sighs and closes his eyes briefly before looking at you firmly.

"You didn't offend me, well- not really, it's just-"

"Its- I avoided you, because I thought you didn't feel the same way I did." His confession did not clear anything up for you.

You scrunch your face confused.

"Feel? Feel what?"

His lips became a thin line as he rolls his eyes.

"[name], I like you"

"I like you too, I just told you that-

"No, I-" He sighs loudly again.

"I like you, more than a friend, should. And I thought I've been dropping multiple hints since we met but it seems you've gotten none of them, I thought you just weren't interested in me like that, or else you would've seen them, wouldn't you?"

Your eyes widen as understanding fills you.

The brief silence scared him as he tells you to forget about it and leave.

"Wha- No, no Xavier, I do like you." You immediately tells him before you could stop yourself.

He freezes and his yes scan you for any lies or deceit.

"Right, and you're definitely not saying this because I'm your only friend and you feel bad."

You shook your head but he still looks unconvinced.

"You went out with Tyler. Fucking Tyler. How does anything you do backs up what you're saying?" Tyler's name sounds like a curse coming from his tongue, And you have to admit, it makes you like him more.

"It does make sense what you're saying, but if Im only saying this because I'm lonely, would I do this?" You challenge him.

"Do what?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed.

You answer him by pulling him down by his vest and meeting your lips with his.

Automatically he reciprocates it and his arms move to wrap around your waist.

You smile againts his mouth and you feel him copy it.

Breaking the kiss to catch a breath, he grins at you, all his sulking seemingly gone.

"So just to be clear, you're not doing this because you feel bad or anything right? I don't know, maybe you should convince me again, just to be sure."

Your face breaks into a smile as you grant his wish.

#xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday netflix

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1d1195 · 7 months

Text

Love and Dryer Sheets I

I haven't figured out how long this will be just yet but I anticipate at least three parts. This is where I'll keep the rest of it: Love and Dryer Sheets

~3.6k words (I know it's shorter. I just want to post and get some more ideas flowing)

Warnings: Harry is VERY grumpy/angry, right person, wrong place.

“I never miss the opportunity to say I told you so,” she giggled.

Harry snorted as he chuckled. “Your boyfriend mus’ love that,” he mumbled.

“Very smooth, Harry.”

The door slapped open and hit against the wall loudly so that she had no choice but to look up. The sound was followed by a tall man entering the room with a scowl on his face. He looked like he was having an internal argument with someone that wasn’t even privy to the conversation. She glanced away from the page she was reading briefly at the noise but turned right back to the book to give the grumpy person their own space. But it didn’t stop her from discreetly peeking up from the novel to catch sight of how pretty the man was. The first thing she noticed was his height and his scowl. But his hair was the color of chocolate twisting around his head in the softest, gentlest curls she had ever seen on a man. His skin was tanned, and he looked like he should be a model for sweatpants. Below the scowl, she could just make out that his eyes were green, but she was too far away to make out much more.

Except that he was very beautiful.

So beautiful that not even his crankiness could take her mind away from the idea of him. It seemed wrong that he was so angry. Someone as attractive as he was shouldn’t have been that upset. Especially about laundry. The anger had to be misplaced.

Stop analyzing a stranger just because he’s hot. Her brain yelled at her.

“Can’t even...” he grumbled. “Fucking laundry,” he slammed the washer lid shut and continued his angry mumbles.

She pretended not to hear and stopped stealing glances. It seemed he only just realized he was doing laundry because he muttered something unintelligible about detergent as he made his way over to the little dispensary machine containing fabric softener and the like. He dropped five quarters in it, grumbling the entire time, and twisted the knob. But unfortunately, there was nothing. No detergent fell from the space the way it was supposed to. She had only watched this man for all of a minute, but she already knew the inconvenience was going to be bad for his already crummy mood.

He slammed the side of his fist into the machine causing a loud metallic clang to echo through the room. Loud enough to be heard over the sound of the washers and dryers running throughout the room. “Jesus fucking Christ!” He ran a hand over his face. She wondered what his next move was going to be but without her really realizing, she started to speak.

“Hey, I have detergent if you need some,” she offered kindly. Smooth. Her internal voice rolled its eyes. Interact with the maybe psychopath yelling at laundry. Honestly, she did it more as a favor to herself than to the stranger. Conflict was one of her least favorite things. Even if he was having conflict with an inanimate object. Growing up in a household where her parents displayed argument after argument as if it were normal for two people who “loved” each other to constantly talk in terms of passive aggressive remarks and angry tones for hours of her childhood did a number on her. As it was with the laundry debacle here, it felt like it was her responsibility to mediate the argument. Reduce the tension. Find a solution.

He only just seemed to realize he wasn’t alone in the communal laundry room. It was a bit naïve on his part to forget it, even. The laundry room was often one of the busiest spaces in the apartment building. Moreover, there were about five or six washers and dryers going at any one time—like right now. Usually, people just left their stuff but here was this girl sitting on top of the washer, one leg propped up so she could lean her book against it while the other dangled over the front of the machine and rested on the top of her overturned tall basket.

The angry air left him in a heavy sigh. He turned more directly toward her. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he sounded a bit shy. Embarrassed by his outburst it seemed. She slid off the washer and lifted her basket right side up to reveal the jug of detergent and a bag with folders and papers in it. Briefly he wondered what they were, but it was none of his business and it was weird he wanted to know. He hadn’t even learned her name yet.

“S’okay. Laundry can be intense, I get it,” she joked.

He smirked, feeling the annoyance leave him the longer he looked at her. She was so pretty. He shouldn’t have thought that way. Not at all. But it was impossible not to notice. Her hair was in a ponytail and pieces were falling around her face like she meant for it to frame her features. It was like the little strands were pointing directly at her with the intention of drawing his eyes across her kind face. The slope of her lips, the way her cheeks bloomed as she smiled gently at him, how the corners of her eyes crinkled and her lashes brushed against her cheeks when she blinked.

Stop. It. His brain hissed at him.

“Thanks,” he said taking the jug from her and moved over to his washer. He felt all the anger that was rattling his body disappear as he undid the cap, poured the liquid into it, and started the washer. He returned the detergent back to her. “Sorry, ‘bout m’slamming around,” he said sheepishly. “S’jus’...been a day,” he rubbed a hand on the back of his head awkwardly, feeling bad that he looked like an idiot. She shrugged.

“S’okay, doesn’t bother me,” she reached out and grabbed his hand effortlessly. She turned it over as if she randomly grabbed strangers’ hands all the time. “Thought you might have hurt yourself,” she murmured and then dropped his hand. He wished she didn’t, though. Her gentle touch felt like heaven.

He cleared his throat because he absolutely could not find himself losing his mind over a girl he had met for thirty seconds. “M’Harry,” he said.

“Nice to meet you,” she smiled introducing herself. “I just moved in... third floor, just a little under a week ago.”

Harry nodded. “Welcome,” it sounded a little sarcastic, but not in a mean way. “M’on the fifth floor,” he said. Tell her. Tell her right now. His conscience shouted at him. She hopped back into her position on top of the washer and resumed her reading position. “You don’t have t’stay with your clothes,” he told her as he checked the dials on the machine he was using.

“Hold over from college. My last apartment building was also not very good about it,” she shrugged. “I don’t trust it, but I don’t mind. I have a good book.”

Harry glanced at the title, committing it to memory so he could go purchase his own. No. Don’t. Stop it. You can’t do that. His conscience was screaming but he simply ignored it. It was the first time he didn’t feel angry in hours. She was just this bright little spot in the basement of the apartment building. It was a rainy Saturday and the only light coming in was from the egress windows. It wasn’t very light at all; merely the sun trying to force it’s way through the clouds above but getting trapped among the rain drops. Harry was feeling angry and the weather wasn’t helping.

But there was this...kind and lovely angel just sitting on a washing machine. Inspecting his hand for injury. Pure, gentle, perfect sunlight.

“Gotcha,” he murmured. “Well...m’doing other chores and things...I’ll be back down later.”

“Okay, nice meeting you, Harry,” she smiled. “I hope your day gets better,” her words were warm with kindness. It made him feel off kilter. He had been so angry all day that he nearly forgot what it was like to feel...happy.

He managed to smile at her, give a little wave, and left without another word.

Shortly after he left, she found herself a little flustered by the interaction. She was surprised she inspected his hand like that. It was totally out of character to be so forward—offering detergent and help, checking for injury. But really, taking his hand allowed her to admire the tattoos that lined his wrist and forearm and how the veins in his hand looked like the prettiest spiderweb she’d ever seen. Part of her hoped she would run into Harry again while doing laundry. Smiling, she returned her attention to her book and thought she really wouldn’t mind being around Harry for a longer time period.

Harry’s anger was renewed as he headed back to the laundry room. His chest was achy with the feeling of anxiety and a pressure forming from the annoyance he felt in his life. Part of him thought he should have just stayed in the laundry room with the girl that reminded him of sunshine.

That’s a stupid idea, and you know it.

He was really beginning to hate his conscience.

But his anger skyrocketed further as he entered the laundry room to see piles of laundry on top of washers. First, he was irritated because he was going to be livid if someone touched his clothing. This hadn’t happened in the year and a half he had lived there. But of course, it was going to happen on a day that he was simmering in anger over everything. Maybe more importantly, he thought he had given poor advice to Sunshine, and he was not happy that he did that.

Did you seriously just call her SUNSHINE? His brain was having independent thoughts, but Harry ignored it.

He was practically shaking with anger as he marched over to the washer that he had used earlier in the day. Other washers had piles of wet, crumpled clothing items on top of them waiting for the person to find them and be just as bitter and annoyed as Harry was. But instead, Harry found the washer he was using and none of his clothes had been moved. He felt his face pinch in confusion. That didn’t seem right.

But in place of a lump of wet clothes, was a piece of paper. He felt the confusion deepen. At the very least it made him forget how angry he was. At least for a few minutes. Scrawled across the paper read:

Out of Order. Do NOT use. -Management

Harry felt a new wave of anger wash over him almost instantly. If his clothes were damaged or stuck or something he might lose his mind. But he opened the washer and found his clothes were perfectly spun out. Smelled like the air after it had just rained. The confusion he felt continued as he pulled the items out of the washer and dropped them into the basket so he could throw them in a dryer next. He reread the note on the lid trying to figure out why the apartment management would say the washer was broken when it very obviously wasn’t.

He pulled the paper off the washer allowing someone else to use it now. As he did, he caught sight of writing on the back.

Told you so :) -304

Harry felt the urge to run out of the laundry room, wet basket of clothes and all, and knock on the door labeled 304 until she answered. He wanted to read beside her. Ask to use one of her dryer sheets or whatever it was that made her laundry smell so good. Her little knowing “told you so” didn’t even bother his already fragile, grumpy state. In fact, it only made him like her more.

STOP IT. His brain shouted. Shaking his head, Harry rid himself of his thoughts of Sunshine. What else am I supposed to call her? He asked rhetorically to his conscience. Instead, he tried not to think about her. He had only chatted with her for all of four minutes and that couldn’t have been nearly enough time to think he was already falling for her...right?

Today she was laying across two washers, a book above her head. She didn’t notice when people filtered in or out and no one paid any mind to her either.

Until Harry showed up.

“More laundry?” He asked.

She smiled, folding the corner of her page down and sitting up so she looked less crazy. Harry had a basket at his hip, and she noted there was a jug of detergent on top of the pile of laundry inside. “I love laundry,” she shrugged.

He wrinkled his nose at her in distaste. “M’least favorite,” he murmured.

“Aw, that’s too bad,” she frowned.

“Thanks for saving m’washer the other day,” he said dumping the items into the washer along the back wall—opposite of where she was seated.

She smiled down at the book in her lap and then looked up at the back of his head. “I never miss the opportunity to say I told you so,” she giggled.

Harry snorted as he chuckled. “Your boyfriend mus’ love that,” he mumbled.

“Very smooth, Harry. Unlike my ex-boyfriend, my imaginary one thinks that my perfectionism and tendency to be right is admirable. He clings to my every thought and word,” she fluttered her eyelashes cutely. If she were magic, she would have made a halo appear above her head.

He rolled his eyes at her and nodded. Tell her! His conscience yelled. RIGHT now. He ignored it as he had been since the last time he saw her. “A new book?” He asked instead.

She nodded, flipping the book over in her hands inspecting the front and back cover carefully. “Yeah...I try to read three books a month. The last one was a little dense but this one is a quick read. Entertaining, ya know?” She smirked. “It’s a little cheesy but it’s cute. It makes me happy,” she shrugged.

Harry thought that was sweet. He wanted her to be happy.

Stop. It.

She watched Harry throw everything in the washer in one load. “You should separate the light and dark stuff.”

“I’ve never had a problem with it before,” he shrugged. “S’this you trying t’be right again?”

She laughed and looked at her lap. The heat rose to her cheeks. “No, actually. Told you, just really like laundry. I notice a difference in my own stuff. But if you don’t obviously it’ll be fine,” she shrugged back. “I just really like laundry,” she repeated.

Part of him wanted to do exactly as she said. But even Harry, not just his conscience, thought it would be too much. She watched as he poured in the detergent, closed the lid, and then he hopped on top of his washer just like her. They were facing one another. She could see how green his eyes were now, a little bloodshot around the iris, she wondered if he had a late night and what from. His smile was sweet, a deep dimple dented the middle of his cheek depending on which side of his lips lifted when he smirked. But right now, he was smiling completely, making him look so innocent and boyish. It made her stomach flutter.

“So...are you in school still? Or do you have a job?” She asked.

“M’gainfully employed. Work in the financial district.”

“A corporate sellout,” she remarked neutrally.

Harry smiled again shaking his head at her banter. “Oh? And you, Sunshine? Y’work for the Lollipop League?”

“It’s the Lollipop Guild, and Lullaby League, actually. But no,” she snorted. “I work in the hospital as a counselor,” she said. “I can see how you would think it’s like being on the set of The Wizard of Oz.”

Harry tapped his fingers against the washing machine and pursed his lips at her. “Mus’ be a tough job,” he murmured.

She nodded. “It’s rewarding though. Gives me a cathartic cry about once a week,” she opened her book back up to where she stopped. She felt Harry watching her though and she realized she probably shouldn’t have admitted to an almost stranger that she cried so often.

Harry hated the idea of her sadness. She was the embodiment of sunshine. Tears shouldn’t have been allowed in her eyes nor on her face. His conscience was angry and loud. Harry Styles stop it.

She let the silence wash over them and Harry didn’t seem to mind. They both went to their books and read silently for a while. She giggled cutely every so often and Harry thought it was an adorable sound. He wished he could ask what she had read. He wanted to recite things to her that made him think of her.

Harry was properly and crazily losing his mind.

The words on the pages of her book blended together. She thought Harry was meant to just be looked at for hours upon hours. He was so insanely beautiful it made her mind turn to mush.

He had to be her soulmate, surely. He mentioned her favorite movie and book completely unprompted. She wanted to ask if he had ever read the book or if he liked the movie. If he would ever want to watch it with her in her apartment cozied up on the couch with apple cider. Growing up, her dad read the twenty-four chapters in a loop over the course of months and years. She found Oz completely magical. It was unbelievable that a total stranger would bring it up.

It had to be fate, right?

She could probably recite the book from memory. When she found out about the movie, she watched it on VHS and then DVD and now streamed it at least once a month or played it in the background when she did chores. It was something she had little ones watch at the hospital and she dressed up as a different character every Halloween to pass out candy to the little ones when trapped in their hospital rooms.

Fortunately, her washer buzzed, alerting her she was done, and Harry glanced up briefly and gave another cute little smirk that she was beginning to think was simply meant to keep her up at night—and maybe looking for things to wash.

“So...s’jus’ you in apartment 304?” He asked.

She smiled to herself. If this was his way of flirting it was lame. “Yeah, just me.”

“Awful lot of laundry you’re doing,” he muttered.

She threw her stuff into a dryer, tossing in the scented beads that made her clothes smell good along with a dryer sheet. “I told you I do laundry the right way.”

He chuckled and she thought that his laugh might have been her new favorite sound. “S’fair, I suppose,” he remarked. Slipping off his washer, he inspected her new book and the back cover. He mentally wrote the title down once more. “Do y’have a favorite book?” He asked.

She nodded. “S’kind of silly. It’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. My dad used to read it to me before bed. And I like history and there’s theories on the symbolism for the populist movement—I don’t know. It just makes me think of my childhood and of course the movie was just—” She stopped suddenly, and Harry was completely riveted by the beginning of her explanation.

“What, Sunshine?” He asked so gently. It felt like he was wrapping her in his arms and whispering in her ear. It was like he was trying to reach into her chest and hold her heart in his hands himself. It was sweet and she hated how nice it felt after they had spoken in total for maybe seven minutes since meeting.

She didn’t turn around to look at him. But she could feel his gaze warming her as he watched her fiddle with the dryer. “Just...don’t want to bore you about The Wizard of Oz.”

He ignored what his conscience was shouting at him once more. “I don’t think y’could bore me,” he murmured.

She turned then, looked at him with these beautiful round eyes that he swore were little suns and brightened the whole room as she met his gaze. “Guess the only way we’ll find out is if we keep chatting. Tell me about your book,” she suggested gently. It was an invitation and Harry didn’t really know what to say because the book hardly made any sense over the last few minutes. He was intently focused on her when he was supposed to be reading. He managed to make up something about how it wasn’t much of a page-turner yet but liked it well enough and thought it would get better.

Eventually, Harry’s washer signaled it was time to switch to the dryer and he worried their time was truly limited because before he knew it, her dryer was done. She stayed to fold her stuff, and they continued reading and chatting casually.

She was falling hard for Harry. It seemed it was inevitable. Between the gentleness he showed her in such a short time, the mention of her favorite story, and simply being there during her favorite chore, it was like Harry was meant to meet her. Meant to find her in the laundry room and befriend her so quickly.

There was no use denying she hoped it would escalate to something more.

Harry’s conscience continued to tell him what a terrible idea it was to keep up this...pretense with her. But his heart was saying that he needed warmth, needed the kindness she showed in just the little bit of time he had been around her.

Sunshine was his cure.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #love and dryer sheets

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itshype · 1 year

Text

How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)

Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?

However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.

Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.

First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.

Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.

After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.

There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.

A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.

While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.

NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.

He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.

He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.

He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.

"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"

"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."

"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"

Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.

It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.

"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."

#dc x dp #dp x dc #mine #notfic #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc comics #dan phantom #dark danny phantom #tucker foley #jazz fenton #justice league #batman #bruce wayne

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

Text

Roped In

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer is a man on the run, a man who you turned in for countless murders. What happens when he shows up at your new home after you’re placed into WITSEC?

Content/Warnings: Dubcon (I’m just putting this just to be safe), mild gore descriptions, blood, restraints, fingering, oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Five: Bondage

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You never really pictured yourself running away from everything you’d ever known, to pick up and leave without as much as saying a word. Witness Protection changed that for you. You missed your friends, your coworkers, your family.. Spencer hadn’t ever been a violent person before prison. He was sweet, had a smile on his face and a playful gleam in his eye. After being framed for murder and locked up though, it was like something snapped inside of him.

He’d been faced with horrific sights behind bars, not to mention that after tampering with drugs he was supposed to move behind those cement walls, he actually enjoyed hurting the inmates who had fallen prey to the batch. He could feel a warmth flood through his veins, a blood lust clouding his vision.

He’d lost all his previous morals, the oath that he’d taken going down the drain after the first kill. It was a list of offenders who had gotten out of prison early. People like rapists, child abusers, a lot of it. He’d marked himself as an injustice collector. The only reason he got caught? Because of you. You’d walked into a scene you had no business being in. You were supposed to text him before you made it to his apartment, to let him know you were on the way. Instead, you had the bright fucking idea to walk in when he was wrist deep in some rapists intestines.

He fell off the map after that. He tossed his phone, left town, and left absolutely no trace behind. The problem with Spencer Reid becoming a monster similar to the ones he’d spent over a decade hunting down was that he knew how to get away with it. He knew how to avoid Garcia’s tracking, how to live off the grid with strictly cash and keeping his head down.

However he had connections. Knowing that you were gone and in WITSEC, he knew he’d spend as much time as he needed to find you. After all, this was your fault. All he wanted to do was get rid of the bad men and women who did unspeakable things to the innocent people of the world. He did the prison system a favor. Overcrowding was too common, so why not let a silent helper take care of the issue? Too bad nobody looked at it logically.

He’d spent months searching for you. He’d gone through so many states, so many cities. It was exhausting. The payoff when he saw you though? Oh, it felt fucking good. You’d been relocated to Tennessee, hidden off in the mountains in hopes of hiding from the man who was on the news nationwide.

You foolishly believed you were safe, under a new name and in a new city, it was hard to track you. Besides, Spencer didn’t have the assistance of Penelope anymore, that would be his main factor in finding you. You were safe. Soon the BAU would find Spencer and this nightmare would be over.

Or you thought that to be the case.

You were getting ready for a night out with a few new friends you’d made over the past few months, actually quite happy with the relocation. You’d gotten a job as an administrative assistant at a paper company, so you were quite content with an office job. It was actually a blessing, you had a good paying job with benefits.

You hadn’t been paying attention to the news within these past two weeks, every outlet in the nation reporting on the search for the dangerous Spencer Reid. You’d vaguely heard a mention in the office, however you weren’t tuned in to hear about your psychopathic ex boyfriend.

You’d been upstairs in your bathroom when you heard the sound of your door opening and closing, about to call out to your friends before you were stopping dead in your tracks. “Y/N?! I know you’re home!” The familiar voice boomed through the house, causing you to quickly and quietly push the bathroom door shut before locking it. You couldn’t jump from the second floor window, you’d break something and make it even easier for him to hurt you. You didn’t even have time to think of your options whenever you heard the sound of heavy footsteps. “Are we playing hide and seek?” His voice was getting closer, your body doing its best to camouflage behind the sink, however, you weren’t small enough to hide behind the tiny sink.

The doorknob turned, your heart in your throat. This was it. He was going to kill you, show the BAU that they didn’t help you in the slightest. It could be a taunt, showing that he’d always find you. “Oh, are you hiding in there?! Y/N, my angel, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice was dripping with insincerity, fist angrily hitting against the door. “Don’t make me kick it in.” He said in a simple tone, a frown now on his face.

There were a few moments of silence, something that gave you a false sense of safety. He gave up. You have lived to fight another day. However, you had to cover your mouth with a shaking hand as tears welled up in your eyes when you could hear some shuffling behind the door. You were paralyzed in fear as you watched the door fall soon after, the door falling off the hinges.

“This is silly. I can’t believe you made me do that!” He huffed, tossing the screwdriver to the side. He’d come prepared with tools hidden in the trunk of the car he’d swiped. “Now, come here..” He gave a faux pout, approaching your cowered frame. You’d made a snap decision to punch him in the face when he was caught off guard, scrambling out of your hiding place before hurrying out of the bathroom.

You hadn’t gotten far though, all of the screaming for help being useless whenever you felt one hand gripping your waist tight enough to bruise and a hand smacking against your mouth to muffle your screams. “Shut up!” Spencer snapped, using his arm wrapped around your body to lift you.

Once you were in your room, he didn't waste time to use the rope he’d thrown on your bed to tie your wrists tightly, making you sit on the bed while he was grabbing your phone. “I already texted your friends. They are so sorry that you aren’t feeling well. Don’t worry too much, honey. We will be gone before anyone gets suspicious.” He cooed and cupped your cheek, causing you to flinch.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He sighed, patting your cheek with his hand while pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Sorry that I tied you up so tight. I didn’t trust you as much as I was willing to earlier after you punched me. That’s a killer right hook, by the way. Surprised you didn’t break my nose.” He chuckled. He was acting like this was normal, two people catching up after being apart for a few years.

“What are you planning here?” You’d asked, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “A-are you gonna kill me?” The next question came out much more shaky than the first. “I’m not gonna kill you. I’m here to talk. I know you’re scared because of what you saw but I promise that it was for a good cause.” He breathed. Yes, brutally murdering and disemboweling a man on his living room floor was okay. “You know what that guy did? He was notoriously breaking into women’s houses and raping them. I think we can both agree that he got what was coming to him.”

“He should’ve gone to prison..”

“Just for him to get released again after a few years? It’s a waste of police resources, not to mention everyone’s time.”

The part of Spencer that used to share the same sentiment as his girlfriend had died a while ago. “Look, just..” He huffed and brought his hands up to roughly tug at his own hair from frustration. “Trust me. You’re okay.”

You were staring at him, the shock wearing off of seeing the man who you assumed would’ve murdered you with no cares in the world. Now you were just confused. You assumed there would be some sort of revenge plot, a fate of suffering. Instead, you watched as he put his hands against your cheeks. “It’s so good to see you.” He spoke softly while running the rough pad of his thumb over your smooth cheek.

“I thought you left the country for a moment there. I searched everywhere. Then I landed here.. Funnily enough, I was giving up.” He hummed while eventually leaning forward to press a few soft pecks against your lips.

You wanted nothing more than to back away, to run and get help. Instead, your body gave in while your lips were pressing kisses against his lips in return. He’d reeled you back in all over again with little to no effort. Of course.

As the small kisses were escalating, your lips were sloppily slotting along with his as he took the opportunity to try and show you just how much he missed you. “My pretty girl.” His words were sweet like honey as he was pulling away. “Why don’t you let me show you how much I missed you?” The words made you shudder. “P-please do.” You breathed out, unable to help the blush spreading across your cheeks from his gaze. It was like he was a lion in the savannahs and you were a gazelle, peacefully minding your business while he plans to bounce. Plans to eat you alive..

“I’m keeping the ropes where they are, remember that. You have to prove yourself. No matter how much I adore you.” He stated. He couldn’t make any chances. He’d been to prison once and he wasn’t planning on going back anytime soon. You seemed to understand how things were going to go, willingly going along with his plans of keeping you as his.

“Perfect.” He breathed while moving to press one more kiss to your lips. His hands were tugging you to the edge of the bed while he was reaching for your hips, tugging you to the edge of the bed while offering a grin. “Now, just relax.” He cooed, hands now working on the jeans you were wearing for the night before tugging them down your legs with ease. “You had to pick the tightest pants imaginable, didn’t you?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. “I’m not surprised. Although it’s a good thing that I stopped you from going out in these. Didn’t need any obstacles in my way.” He murmured, hands ripping the panties you had on without any care.

Before you could complain, Spencer had already dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. His nose nuzzled against your inner thigh as he pressed a few kisses, biting down on the thick flesh as you let out a surprised yelp. His tongue ran over the fresh teeth marks in your skin before the muscle trailed up your inner thigh, a series of goosebumps spread over your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to take him by the back of the head and push his face into your weeping cunt, however the rope tying your hands together didn’t give you the opportunity.

Thankfully, he’d gotten the hint as he left his tongue lick a stripe up your slick slit, a low groan falling from his lips as he finally got just a little bit of a taste of what he was missing. With his hands gripping your supple thighs, he was letting his tongue flick over your throbbing clit, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. “You taste so good, pretty girl. God, I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered against your slick pussy, making you unsure if he was talking to you or your sex.

His tongue had given a few more licks to your clit before his tongue was teasingly licking around your slit, his nose positioned to bump against your sensitive nub with each movement. “Spencer..” you huffed from frustration, which didn’t seem to deter him.

You’d gotten antsy, wiggling in place in an effort to urge him onward.

When he’d had enough of the teasing though, he was letting his tongue devour your pussy. He was drinking up any slick arousal that you were willing to give him, fully intoxicated on your essence as the sinful sounds of his slurping noises were filling the room alongside your moans and begs for more.

His hand was moving up your torso before gently pushing your body to lay back against the mattress. His hands came back down as he was letting one finger replace his tongue, a low chuckle leaving his lips as soon as your walls were tightening around the long digit. “Look at this greedy pussy. Take my finger so well.” He groaned, slipping in a second finger while working on your cunt. He didn’t have enough time tonight to fully fuck you, knowing you both had to hit the road soon in order for him to get the hell out of dodge.

However, he was gonna make this count. As his fingers were pistoning into your soppy cunt, he was curling them deep inside of you, causing his fingertips to brush against the spongy button deep inside of you that made a squeal fall from your lips.

“How would you make it without me? God knows that any other guy isn’t gonna know how to make you cum the way that I do. I bet you’ve been thinking about me ever since you left.” He spoke lowly, continuing to fingerfuck your pussy at a quick pace, your velvety walls closing in around the two digits. Judging by the way they were spasming and the way your body was shaking from euphoria, he knew he had you right where he wanted you. “Gonna cum.” You warned, head thrown back against the pillow while your eyes were screwed shut.

His efforts weren’t letting up, instead surprising you by adding a third finger into the mix as he continued his assault of your leaking cunt. It only took a few strokes of his fingers before your head was tilting back, mouth wide open as you let out a loud moan. Your cum was decorating his hand now, the slick arousal trailing down his hand to his wrist before he was pulling his fingers out of your used pussy.

“Alright. I’m gonna pack you a bag and then we will get you cleaned up. We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Now you were along for the ride, unable to escape. Although you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t love it.

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lovebugism · 1 year

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☄. *. ⋆ --- Idiots

summary: eddie makes a mean joke. it's hard to be mad at him when you share a bunk on a tour bus. pairing: band au!eddie muson / f!reader word count: 1.2k warnings: slight angst at first but there's a happy ending, barely proofread a/n: brb getting lost in the universe of the trials and tribulations of being in corroded coffin with eddie munson </3

You know you’re being irrational, but Eddie never should’ve made that stupid fucking joke in the first place. It wasn’t even him so much as the cheap beer and the post-show high, but it stung nonetheless. Now that you think about it, you can’t even remember what he said — something cruel about how he feels like he’s missing out when the rest of the band picks their share of groupies backstage when the concert's over.

He was playing and you know that but it doesn’t mean it hurt any less.

You’re sitting around the booth at the front of the bus. Gareth gets done lamenting about his latest feat with a busty redhead from Denver, a foot taller than him with legs that went on forever. You saw the girl, she was a model no doubt — at least you hoped she was because a girl like that shouldn’t be working some nine-to-five in the middle of nowhere.

Gareth talks like he’s ready to conquer worlds after being with this girl, but that he still can’t stop thinking about the shy brunette he met in Nashville.

Jeff is trying to give him some wholehearted advice and that’s when Eddie makes his dumb joke. “Damn. You’ve had a groupie every show and I haven’t even had one. I’m starting to feel like I’m missing out over here.”

Everyone knows it’s a joke, it’s just a not a very funny one. Eddie doesn’t realize this until he notices that no one’s laughing at it.

“Missing out?” you scoff from beside him, suddenly as rigid as the tension surrounding him.

“Babe—”

“I’m sure there’s groupies still waiting at the bar who’ll be happy to fuck you. I’d hate for you to miss out,” you spit and storm off, not getting very far because the bus is only so big.

You guys argue like children behind the thin partition that separates the bunks from the main area where the rest of the band is forced to listen to your squabbling. He tries to tell you that he was just kidding around and you tell him that joking like that when you have a girlfriend is a little psychopathic. He gets angry that you’re not listening to him and you’re angry he would even say something like that in the first place and both of you are angry at each other for being angry at each other.

It’s just a big, scrambled mess that would be easily remedied if you guys were just mature enough to apologize.

“I’m sorry for making that joke, it wasn’t funny. I don’t want any stupid groupies, I just want you,” Eddie would say. You’d plant a big fat kiss on his cheek and confess: “I know you were just saying you felt like you were missing out on the whole ‘rockstar fantasy’ thing and I was being a little pissy about it and I’m sorry, but if you talk like that again, your ass is grass, Munson.” And that would be that.

But no.

God forbid any of you act like adults and talk out your feelings.

Eddie storms back out while you’re in the middle of snatching your blanket and pillow from his bunk. You shut off the lights and bathe in pure darkness and anger while you hear the boys talk muffledly in the room. You convince yourself they’re making jokes about you — about how you’re probably just on your period and that Eddie should definitely fuck one of those pretty girls back at the show rather than stay cooped up with you all tour.

Just, you know, things none of the boys would ever actually say. But for whatever reason, you want to make yourself sadder and it's working.

Your bunk is empty and doesn’t feel as comfortable. Which is strange considering you spent the entire tour sharing a twin-size mattress with a five-foot-ten boy, but still. The bed doesn’t feel like it belongs to you even though you got first claim on bunks. It makes it that much harder to sleep. You spend hours staring into the side of the bus and willing yourself not to cry, both feeling bad for yourself and for getting so angry at Eddie.

With the curtain pulled closed, you don’t see Eddie enter the back of the bus but you hear him. You swear he’s the loudest person on earth. His sock-clad feet thump, thump, thump against the carpet while he tosses his clothes into a heavy pile onto the floor. His arm bangs into the wall when he stumbles while taking off his pants.

At least, that’s how you imagine it because he’s so terribly clumsy. It almost makes you laugh. Almost.

He climbs up onto his bunk — the one on top of yours. You hear the shutters pull closed and the light click off and then silence. You’re not sure how long it lasts. It feels like another few hours, but maybe it’s just because being without Eddie makes time pass so agonizingly slow.

You wait for him to break, to cave and apologize so you’ll come up and sleep with him. You know he has as hard of a time sleeping without you as you do without him. But he hasn’t yet and you’ve convinced yourself that he isn’t going to. Until—

“Baby?” his voice fills the empty silence, filled only by the sounds of the road and the video game Jeff and Gareth play on the other side of the bus. “Baby, you awake?”

You debate on whether or not to answer. To be stubborn or to cave.

You cave.

But not without a sarcastic remark.

“No.”

He doesn’t reply. You just hear the squeak of his mattress and his feet hitting the carpeted floor when he jumps off of his bunk. The curtain of your bunk pulls back and you turn to find him with a blanket over his shoulder and a pillow under his arm. “Scooch,” he demands.

You comply with a smile and choose not to continue the ruse of being angry because you weren’t — at least, not anymore — and Eddie was the one to break first, after all.

The two of you return to your usual positioning on auto-pilot. The one where Eddie’s just about completely on top of you and clutching you like your his personal teddy bear. You’re on your back with one hand twisted in his hair and the other tracing absentminded shapes on his t-shirt covered back.

The boys have always said they have no idea how that can be comfortable, and you and Eddie aren’t sure either, it just is.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers after a few moments of silence. His breath fans against your collarbone and makes you shiver. Your heart aches a little at the way his voice breaks. He clears his throat, as though to clear the fragility from it. “Sorry.”

You don’t know if he’s repeating himself or apologizing for feeling his feelings.

“Don’t be,” you tell him. “It was stupid.”

“I was a dick.”

“You were a dick and it was stupid,” you correct. He can hear the smile in your voice even though he’s not looking at you. “We’re just idiots.”

“Yeah… Love you, though.”

“Love you too, loser.”

You feel him deflate against you and the sigh of relief flicker across your skin. Like now that he’s heard you say the words, he can finally relax. “Good. Now, go to sleep. I’ll make you a poptart in the morning, ‘kay?”

You breathe out a laugh and plant a kiss to the crown of his head. “So romantic.”

have any thoughts about band au!eddie? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want!

#stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #published by bug #st drabbles #rockstar!eddie #eddie spaghetti drabble

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pastrydragon · 4 months

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The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost

While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.

I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.

We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.

And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!

I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.

Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.

Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!

And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.

And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.

Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #ulder ravengard #morena dekarios #gale x wyll #I don't know their ship name #I only ship it for the family drama #Astarion can also fill this role as Wyll's SO but this is funnier to me #bladeweave #thank you dromaeocore for telling me!

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roses-r-rosie3 · 3 months

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Fantasize

Yandere!Golden Boy!OC x M!Reader

Warnings: Yandre (Obvi), Murder, stalking, Malakai is a bit delulu, light nsfw, reader is bisexual

Oc Name: Malakai Mazurek (Top Left)

Summary: Malakai was perfect in every way, he had no flaws. He was the golden boy of the campus, and then you arrived. Malakai was mesmerized he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, so he starts to do what any psychopath normal would do and starts to stalk you! He soon finds out that you are already in a relationship and that doesn’t make him happy. So instead of moving on, he decides to… get rid of her

Quote: “This is what happens to filthy sluts when they get in my way”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Malakai was the definition of a ‘Golden Boy’. I mean he was literally perfect! Perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect social life, perfect personality, everything about him was just perfect! He had no flaws! It was a surprise to everyone on campus when they found out he wasn’t in a relationship.

But the truth was, he wasn’t really interested in a relationship, he would’ve much rather focus on his schoolwork and on graduating. Well at least, he used to. Ever since you joined the college campus, Malakai couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He would try to talk to you, but he would get too nervous and just end up following you like some lost puppy.

From then on, Malakai’s whole life revolved around what you did. You were about to be late to class? Not to worry! He would gently knock on your window to wake you up before running away. A professor was getting on your nerves? He’s already on it! Next thing you knew, the professor has mysteriously gone missing and your grades start to go up again!

Of course with all that work and devotion came some consequences. Malakai’s own grades were starting to plummet, he would almost never show up to class, and he would constantly ditch his friends because he was “too tired”. You were his only goal in life from now on. School? Pshh! Who cares about school when you can have a lover!

Eventually, after all the stalking and killing Malakai finally built up the courage and finally tried to interact with you for the first time! It was during a class that you shared with him, and he decided to sit next to you. As the professor was talking, all Malakai could think about was you. He could smell your cologne lingering around his nostrils and your sharp but soft eyes looking at your notebook and taking notes on what the professor was teaching.

But while Malakai was too busy oogling you, he hadn’t realized how much time went by and class was already halfway over! He was stressing internally. He had to think of an excuse to talk to you and quick! Suddenly he thought of an idea.

He gently tapped your shoulders and you looked at him with a soft friendly gaze. He felt butterflies in his stomach at this point and he was panicking, trying to think of something to say.

‘Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! He’s actually looking at me! He’s so fucking cute!!! I could just kiss him right now!!’

“I-I-uh do y-you have a pencil you-I mean I can borrow” Malakai stuttered.

“Yeah sure” you smiled before reaching in your bag to grab a pencil.

‘His smile is so perfect!! Everything about him so perfect!! I bet our kids would look perfect too!’

You handed him the pencil politely before going back to your work. But Malakai on the other hand, he was on the brink of hyperventilating. He was holding YOUR pencil in his hand right now!! Oh god.. the things he wanted to do with your pencil was insane..

Before he knew it, the class was already over. Which meant that he had to return your pencil back to you. He truly didn’t want to but he had to give you a good impression of himself. So he tapped your shoulder once again.

“H-here’s your uh- pencil” Malakai blushed.

“Oh it’s fine you can keep it” you said before you were about to get up and leave.

Something in Malakai was telling him to do more. Ask to be your friend! Maybe even ask to be your boyfriend! But he to play it safe.

“H-hey, d-do you maybe wanna be fr-friends? It’s totally okay if you don’t want to be friends!” Malakai asked.

“Sure, can you just give me your number?” you smiled.

He felt like his heart was doing jumping jacks right now. You?! Asking for his number?! He was going to faint! But Malakai quickly put his phone number and name into your phone.

“Malakai, that’s a cool name” you said.

OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! YOU SAID HIS NAME WAS COOL!!! This was the best day of his life!! You complimented him!!

“T-thanks, what’s yours?” Malakai asked, acting as if he didn’t already know what your name was.

“My name is y/n, guess I’ll see you around Malakai” you winked before walking out of the classroom.

Malakai stood there in shock. Did you just let him keep your pencil and you gave him your number?!??! Malakai knew he had to cherish this pencil forever, so he rushed back to his dorm and into his room where he put the pencil in a glass case before putting it on his shelf. Oh and he didn’t forget about your phone number, he texted you immediately. Starting a conversation with you and getting to know you better.

From then on, he would constantly sneak into your dorm room and steal little stuff that you had lying around your desk. He even started a shrine dedicated to all of your stuff! Your cologne (that he sprays on his pillows everyday), a used piece of tissue paper, your underwear, your water bottle, and basically just anything that you owned.

Malakai was convinced you were in love with him too. I mean what type of person would just give someone a pencil and their number! You were definitely in love with him! So he decided to follow you around even more. Which caused his attendance and grades to plummet even further to the point where he could get kicked out of the school he worked so hard to get into. But who cares! You love him! And he loves you!

His attendance got so bad that the dean of the campus emailed him, asking if they could meet to talk about his sudden change in attitude. As much as he just wanted to stalk follow you for the day, he knew that if he got expelled he wouldn’t be able to see you again, so he begrudgingly went to the meeting.

“Hi Malakai, I think we both know why you’re here. Your grades and attendance used to be perfect, but I’ve been noticing that as of recently you have really been showing up to class and I’m starting to get concerned…”

Malakai didn’t even pay attention after that, only nodding his head as he pretended to listen. The only thing he was thinking was what you were doing right now. Were you thinking about him like he thinks about you? Were you…

“Do you understand Mr. Mazurek?” The dean asked.

“Yes” Malakai nodded.

“You may go” The dean said.

Malakai left quickly, and headed towards your dorm. He couldn’t wait to see you again! Oh after the day he’s had all he wanted to do was to see you. To smell you, to look at you, to-

Suddenly he started hearing some noises, that sounded like groaning/moaning coming from your dorm. Malakai immediately got worried, was someone hurting you?! Did something happen?! When he finally arrived to your window, what he saw broke his heart.

He saw you lying on your bed, naked as your hands gripping onto the girl’s hips, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as she rode your cock. What was that filthy slut doing with you?! That should be him! Not whoever that bitch was!

Malakai stormed off, running away back to his dorm with tears in his eyes. How could you do this to him?! As soon as he got back to his dorm, he immediately started looking into who that person was. After doing some research, he found out that she was your current girlfriend. Suddenly his anger towards you, turned to her.

How dare she steal you from him! How dare she try to convince you that she belonged to you! No! He belonged with you! Not whoever that bitch was! You know what! She probably blackmailed you into dating her so that she could keep you from him! Not to worry though! He’ll make sure that you were free from them!

Malakai spent the whole night trying to find out where they lived, only to find out that they were your roommate. All he needed to do was dig up enough information about this partner/roommate. It turns out that her name was Julia, what a ugly name (no offense to the girls named Julia out there who are reading this rn), but most important, he found out that she was a bit forgetful.

Jackpot, this would be easier than he thought! All he needed to do was sneak in and kill her! So later that night, he got all the supplies he needed to make your soon to be ex-lover “disappear”.

It was currently 3am and nobody on campus was awake. So it was his time to strike! He brought his knife and put on gloves before heading off. When he arrived, he tested to see if her window was open, which it was.

‘Of course that slut doesn’t lock her window, why would he even want to be with her’

He quietly opened the window and snuck in. He looked at the sleeping girl before walking closer with his knife.

“This is what happens to filthy sluts when they get in my way” he whispered to her before plunging his knife into her.

Malakai got some sort of thrill from this. So he kept stabbing and stabbing, letting out all his anger on the poor girl. Her blood started soaking the bed and splattering everywhere. After he was finished, the girls whole chest was covered with stab wounds and his face and clothes were stained with her blood.

The next day, you woke up and something in your dorm was starting to smell bad. You shrugged it off and thought that maybe your girlfriend just forgot to take out the trash, and you started to get ready. While you were making breakfast, you knocked on her door to ask her if she wanted anything.

“Hey, Julia, I made us some breakfast if you want some” you said.

But there was no response. Maybe she was still asleep. So you knocked again. But still, no response. Did you make her mad or something?

“Julia, whatever I did, I’m sorry. But can you come out now, the breakfast is getting cold” you apologized.

Still no response. You were starting to get worried.

“I’m coming in” you said before opening the door.

You let out a blood curdling scream. You saw Julia’s dead body on her bed, blood was everywhere, on the walls, her bed, the floor, everything. You looked up above her bed frame to see a chilling message used with her blood.

‘U + Me 4 Ever’

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pey-hey555 · 7 months

Text

Intros with Johnny Cage😀

Chile…These aren’t the best so stfu…..

Johnny: Aren’t i just the most sexiest person you’ve ever went against?

Y/N: I don’t see Channing Tatum anywhere around.

Johnny: Ouch!

Johnny: There’s nothing hotter then going against a psychopath

Y/N: Me? A psychopath? Look in the mirror, Cage.

Johnny: Can’t Last time i did, The mirror almost broke because of how sexy i was.

Y/N: Cant break a mirror unless your…Ugly?

Johnny:Oh shoot…I got it all mixed up again, huh?

Y/N: Got something to say, Cage? You’ve been staring quite a lot recently.

Johnny: I’m just admiring a total babe in front of me!

Y/N: There’s no way you just called me a “babe”…

Y/N: You think you could make it to dinner after this? It’d be a shame to start with out you.

Johnny: Aw, At least i’d know you would miss me.

Y/N: *Sighs.* Why do i even talk to you.

Johnny: I’m just to irresistible.

Johnny: Be my girlfriend?

Y/N: In your dreams, Cage.

Johnny: Aw man.

Johnny: God, You are so gorgeous.

Y/N: Flirting now, Are we?

Johnny: Obviously! How could i not!

Johnny: Is it possible to rip out my heart Cutie?, Because i’m sure you already have it.

Y/N: I’ll put it onto a plate for ya! With extra salt n’ pepper to!

Johnny: Never mind…

Y/N: Ugh, Do you ever take off those glasses?

Johnny: I can’t! I gotta look good for you!

Y/N: Your joking, Right?

Johnny: Kiss me!

Y/N: Excuse me?

Johnny: To straight forward…?

Y/N: Did you even fix the bed like i told you to?

Johnny: We didn’t have that much fun last night, did we?

Y/N: Your insufferable.

Y/N: Come over after?

Johnny: I’d love to!

Y/N: I only want you to clean my house, Cage.

Johnny: I’ll pass.

Y/N: Ugh! Johnny! What did i tell you about using my deodorant!

Johnny: Hey! You called me by my first name!

#johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #MK1 #johnny cage x reader #Mortal Kombat Johnny Cage #mortal kombat

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theheartbreakprincesss · 29 days

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red lips and rosy cheeks, a criminal minds imagine

pairings: fem!reader x bau!team (platonically of course) and fem!reader x spencer reid (if you squint a little)

word count: 800ish

warnings: none i think. no use of y/n because i don’t really vibe with that. no angst, a little fluff, maybe? it’s mostly just funny i think. also not beta-read, or like we say in ao3, no beta we die like men.

author’s note: i have been binge-watching criminal minds for a couple weeks now and of course i’m obsessed with it, and this visual of spencer becoming a little flustered over seeing his crush all dressed up popped into my mind. it’s my first time writing an imagine with the reader as the main piece in the story, so idk be gentle with me? i also never wrote for criminal minds and i’m only in season 4. i just wrote this instead of sleeping or actually writing my other fics. sorry if this is terrible anyway. i’m open to feedback! thanks for reading <3

Working for the FBI could be a handful, sometimes, but the job had its benefits. You could catch criminals and help people, make a difference, you know? But something you would never expect to count as a benefit was the possibility of being called in the middle of a date.

You didn’t even want to go on that date, but your long-time friend Emma had insisted she knew a guy that would be perfect for you. Emma knew you since you both were undergraduates working on their degrees, so you had figured it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance.

It wasn’t your best moment.

Not that the guy turned out to be a psychopath or something like that. But the ice of your drink had barely started to melt when it became clear that Sean wasn’t the guy for you, and by the end of your martini, you could see that Sean was too self-centered and trying too hard to be something he was not, with the fake watch and the well-pressed but clearly cheap suit and exaggerated tales of his life. An hour into the date and you were begging to the universe to offer you a way out of that bar.

Thankfully the universe seemed to listen to your plea, and you let out a relieved sigh when you saw Garcia’s name on the screen as the phone rang. Apparently, Hotch wanted everyone at the office right that moment.

That hurry was what prompted you to go into the BAU headquarters straight from your date, thinking that a stop by your apartment to change would take too much time and that you could take the clothes out of your go bag and change out of your outfit once you got there.

“Hey there.” you greeted as you walked into the bullpen. “Is everyone here yet?”

“Rossi and Prentiss are on their way.” Morgan said from his desk. “Wonder boy is getting coffee.”

“Oh, okay.” you mumbled, moving to take off your coat and wondering if you would have time to wipe off the red lipstick before the briefing.

“Damn, pretty girl.” you heard Morgan say, that suggestive tone in his voice that annoyed the life out of you. “Did we interrupt something?”

“Only the most boring date I have ever been on.” you scoffed, nervously fixing your dress. It wasn’t inappropriate or something, just very different from what you used to wear. It had been Emma’s idea, actually, to pair that black sleeveless dress with knee-high boots. “He spent the entire time talking about himself.” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, look at you!” Garcia exclaimed as she got into the bullpen. “You look like a million bucks, darling.”

“Thank you, Pen.” you said. “What’s the case about?”

“A woman went missing in Indiana this morning in the same way three more disappeared in the last month before they were found dead.” JJ told, walking out of her office. “Oh, hot date tonight?” she asked.

“Disappointing, actually.” you laughed. “Can we not talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” you heard Spencer’s voice from behind Penelope.

“About her date.” Garcia said. Spencer joined them as they all stood near your desk, two coffee mugs in his hands. His messy hair was the first thing you noticed, looking like he had been dragged out of his bed. He handed you the second coffee mug, the one with little cartoon kittens stamped on it, then his eyes really focused on you.

“Oh, thank you.” you mumbled, taking a sip of it.

“I– yeah, I…” he stammered, eyes moving up and down, up and down.

“Are you alright, Doc?” you asked, using the nickname you had given him a few weeks into working together.

“Ooh, I think you broke pretty boy.” Morgan laughed.

“It’s probably the red lipstick.” Garcia pointed out, joining Derek in his laughs. You waited for one of Spencer’s famous info-dumps, where he would talk about how red lipstick used to be made out of crushed beetles in Ancient Egypt or something, but he was still silent, lips parted like he meant to say something but couldn’t figure out what.

“Do you need me to reset you or something?” you were now having a bit of fun with it. It wasn’t like you were trying to be mean, but both of you had been dancing around unspoken feelings for a while now.

“I… you look pretty.” Spencer finally managed to say.

You put the mug to your lips, trying to hide the blood that was rushing to your cheeks as Morgan whistled.

“Go on, wonder boy.”

“Derek? Shut up.” then, you looked at Spencer again, who was timidly smiling at you.“Thanks.” you mumbled.

Spencer looked at the mug on your hands, focusing on the stain of your lipstick on the rim of the mug.

“Uh, did you know that the first known red lipsticks were created by crushing gemstones in Mesopotamia over 5.000 years ago?”

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