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#if the roles were reversed everyone would be up in arms
butterballbuttnakey · 2 years
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.....so does LA just not have any HIPPA/patient privacy protection laws?
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fandom · 10 months
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Top 23 of 2023
Have you been aching to get your hot little hands on 52 weeks of data around original posts, likes, reblogs, and searches, all weighted and ranked and tied up into categories with a nice little bow on top? Well, today’s your day! It should come as no surprise that Artists on Tumblr reign supreme: from stunning traditional art, jaw-dropping digital art, fanart, sculptures, textile art—you name it, basically—this year’s list shows that Tumblr truly is the home for art and artists. Thank you, Artists on Tumblr, for enriching our dashboards day after day. 
Rounding out the top three, we have two iconic shows: Good Omens is live-action, and The Owl House is animated, but both have a heck of a love story at their core. The second season of Good Omens blessed us with not one but two ineffably exquisite ships, while the final season of The Owl House broke and then healed fans’ hearts in equal measure. Thanks, @danaterrace! Actually, come to think of it, the Good Omens finale kinda did the same in reverse. Thanks to you, too, @neil-gaiman! We can’t wait for season 3. 
Speaking of heartbreak and healing, Our Flag Means Death’s second season offered both in droves. The entire cast gave stellar performances, and fans couldn’t have been happier to see the kinds of representation the show displayed. Last year’s #1 topic, Stranger Things, may have dropped a bit, but trust us, you wouldn’t know it from the amount of meta, fanart, and fics in the tag. And did you hear about the live-action adaptations of both The Last of Us and One Piece? They were a preeeetty big deal this year, too. Check ‘em out if you haven’t yet (lol, of course you have). And we’d be remiss not to mention the hugely dedicated fans, fanartists, and fic writers devoting their time to all things Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Y’all deserve a little pizza, as a treat.
2023 was also a year for blockbuster movies, which of course hasn’t escaped anybody’s notice here on Tumblr. Barbie smashed box offices worldwide and left us reeling with every re-watch. How can one describe Greta Gerwig’s pink-filled opus? It certainly is one of the movies of all time. Meanwhile, with its incredible animation and soundtrack, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse introduced us to a whole new multiverse of Spider-People, opening the portal to a veritable flood of incredible OCs. And then, of course, we got a fresh perspective on an old classic when cinephiles introduced Martin Scorscese’s cinematic masterpiece, Goncharov (1973), to a new generation of film aficionados who resoundingly agree that it is, in fact, the greatest mafia movie ever made. We’re so glad this underrated film finally got the acclaim it has long deserved.
In the realms of gaming and tech, the long-anticipated Baldur’s Gate 3 has basically become everyone’s new favorite D&D/dating sim combination. Of course, the Pokémon franchise, games, shows, and Hatsune Miku collabs remain perennial favorites. Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter, sorry, we mean of course X, made waves across the internet. Similarly, the Reddit blackout drove Redditors to new venues, and Tumblr users welcomed the folks from r/196 with open arms—we’re huge fans of your memes, y’all, and you fit right in. Welcome, we’re glad you enjoy the chaos. Here’s a fun fact: if we included post metadata in Year in Review rankings, #polls, introduced in January of 2023, would have been the #5 topic on Tumblr this year. Phenomenal. 
And, oh right. Taylor Swift had kind of a big year, what with the albums, the epic global tour, and the movie and stuff. Fantastic work, @taylorswift, the Swifties on Tumblr thank you for everything.
This is Tumblr’s Year in Review.
Artists on Tumblr
Good Omens
The Owl House
Barbie
Pokémon
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
Critical Role
Goncharov
Taylor Swift
Genshin Impact
Stranger Things
The Last of Us
Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Elon Musk
196
Star Wars
Our Flag Means Death
Crowley | Good Omens
LGBTQ
Cottagecore
Baldur's Gate 3
One Piece
Aziraphale | Good Omens
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Mike and Tim loved each other deeply. Mike, with his towering frame and muscular build, looked every bit the athlete. He was the star of the local rugby team, known for his strength and agility. Tim, on the other hand, was lean and wiry, with a sharp intellect and a quick wit that matched his keen eyes. They had been together for three years, and while their friends and family assumed the dynamics of their relationship, only they knew the truth.
In public, they played their roles well. Mike would wrap an arm protectively around Tim's shoulders, pulling him close as they navigated through life. Tim would lean into Mike, a small smile playing on his lips as if to say, "Yes, he's mine." They were the picture-perfect couple, and everyone admired them, envying their seemingly perfect chemistry.
What people didn't see was the subtle dance of power that took place behind closed doors. In their private sanctuary, Mike's broad shoulders and imposing stature meant nothing. As soon as they stepped into their apartment, the roles reversed.
One evening, after a particularly grueling rugby match, Mike trudged into their apartment, sweat glistening on his body. Tim was already home, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. He looked up as Mike entered, his eyes softening for a moment before a mischievous glint replaced the tenderness.
"Rough game?" Tim asked, closing his book and setting it aside.
Mike nodded, his muscles aching and his mind weary. "Yeah, they really put us through the wringer tonight."
Tim stood and walked over to Mike, his lean form moving with an effortless grace.
He reached up, cupping Mike's face in his hands and pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, Tim's voice was low and commanding.
"Shower. Now."
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Mike's eyes widened slightly, but he obeyed without question. He stripped off his clothes as he walked to the bathroom, the hot water a welcome relief against his tired muscles. As he stood under the spray, he felt the tension slowly ebb away, replaced by a different kind of anticipation. As the hot water cascaded over Mike's sore muscles, he found himself replaying Tim's firm command in his mind. Tonight felt different, special, as if Tim had planned something extraordinary. Stepping out of the shower, Mike wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the bedroom, feeling a flutter of anticipation.
Tim stood by the bed, his eyes dark and intense, an air of authority radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. "Come here," Tim instructed, his voice steady and commanding.
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Mike obeyed, crossing the room and standing before Tim, who reached out to gently untie the towel around Mike's waist, letting it fall to the floor. Tim's touch was electric, his fingers tracing patterns over Mike's chest and down his arms, sending shivers through his body.
Tim reached up, trailing his fingers lightly over Mike's chest, his touch sending shivers down Mike's spine. "You did well today," Tim murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "But now, it's time to let go." Mike felt his knees weaken, sinking to the floor in submission. Tim guided him to the bed, his movements confident and deliberate, his control absolute.
For the rest of the night, Tim led Mike through an intricate dance of pleasure and obedience. Every touch, every whisper was calculated to drive Mike to the edge and back, each moment more intense than the last. Mike surrendered completely, reveling in the freedom that came with letting Tim take control.
As the night deepened, their connection grew stronger, the boundaries between them blurring until all that remained was the raw, unfiltered expression of their love and trust. When they finally collapsed into each other's arms, spent and satisfied, Mike drifted off to sleep with a deep sense of contentment.
The next morning, Mike awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He reached out, expecting to find Tim beside him, but the bed was empty.
Confused, Mike sat up, rubbing his eyes, and that's when he noticed something strange. His body felt different, smaller. He looked down and gasped. The body he saw wasn't his own; it was Tim's.
Heart pounding, Mike scrambled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Staring back at him was Tim's reflection. He touched his face, his hands, unable to comprehend what had happened. Just then, the bedroom door opened, and in walked Tim-or rather, Mike's body with Tim's confident stride.
Tim, now in Mike's muscular form, grinned at the look of shock on Mike's face.
"Surprise," he said, his voice carrying a hint of triumph.
"What... how?" Mike stammered, struggling to find his voice.
Tim approached, his movements fluid and commanding. "I've been working on this for a while," he explained, flexing his new, powerful muscles. "I wanted to give us an experience neither of us would ever forget."
Mike's mind raced, a mix of disbelief and awe flooding his senses. "You... you swapped our bodies?"
Tim nodded, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "And now," he said, stepping closer,
"I'm going to show you what it's like to be on the receiving end."
Before Mike could react, Tim's strong hands were on him, pushing him back onto the bed. Tim's newfound strength and size made resistance futile. He pinned Mike down, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes burning with a dominant fire.
"Relax," Tim murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. "Let me take care of you."
Despite the surreal situation, Mike felt a familiar thrill coursing through him.
He trusted Tim implicitly, and the idea of experiencing this new dynamic was intoxicating. He nodded, surrendering once more, this time to the powerful form of the man he loved.
Mike lay back on the bed, still reeling from the intensity of the shock. Tim, now in Mike's powerful body, towered over him, his expression a blend of satisfaction and authority. "Relax," Tim said softly yet commandingly as he positioned himself. The sensation of Tim's strong hands gripping his hips made Mike shiver. It was surreal to see his own muscular arms and broad shoulders moving with Tim's confident precision.
With a firm, controlled push, Tim entered Mike, the initial shock quickly giving way to waves of intense pleasure. Tim's powerful body thrust into him, each movement precise and deliberate. Mike's smaller frame felt every inch, every movement, as Tim guided him through a symphony of pleasure.
Tim's dominance was complete. He used his newly acquired strength to pin Mike down, his thrusts growing more intense. Mike moaned, surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensation, his trust in Tim absolute. The experience was electrifying, a mix of raw power and deep intimacy that left them both breathless.
Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through Mike's body, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. Tim's control was unyielding, his dominance absolute. He drove into Mike with a rhythm that spoke of both passion and mastery, each movement precise and powerful.
Finally, as they both neared the peak of their shared ecstasy, Tim's thrusts became more urgent, more forceful. Mike cried out, his body trembling with the force of his climax, matched by the powerful release from Tim. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweat, utterly spent and deeply satisfied.
For a few moments, they lay there in silence, their breathing gradually slowing.
Mike looked up at Tim, still in awe of the experience. "That was... unbelievable," he whispered.
Tim smiled down at him, his eyes softening. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Mike's forehead.
As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, Tim's expression grew more serious.
"There's something you need to know," he said quietly.
Mike's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"
Tim took a deep breath. "The body swap... it's permanent."
Mike's eyes widened in shock. "Permanent?"
Tim nodded. "I don't have any regrets, Mike. This is how it's meant to be. You need to accept it. I wanted to give us something more than just a temporary experience.
I wanted us to truly become who we are inside. You've always been the strong, dominant one in public, but in private, you love to submit. And I've always been the one in control, no matter how we appeared to others. Now, our bodies match our true selves."
Mike struggled to process the enormity of what Tim had done. He looked down at his new, leaner form, then back up at Tim's muscular body. Despite the shock, he couldn't deny the rightness of it. This body felt more like him, just as Tim's new form suited him perfectly.
Tim's smile turned mischievous. "I can't wait to live life as you in public, being the hot local rugby player. Stepping into your gear for the matches is going to be amazing." He paused, eyeing Mike's new slender frame. "And you know what? You should become a cheerleader for us. With your now skinny frame, you'll fit right in."
Mike's mind whirled at the idea, but as he lay there, cradled in his-no, Tim’s-strong arms, a sense of acceptance began to wash over him. This was their new reality, and he trusted Tim completely.
Tim looked down at him, his eyes soft but firm. "From now on, we should call each other by our new names. You are Tim, and I am Mike. This is who we are now."
Mike—no, Tim-nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Alright, Mike," he said, testing the name on his tongue. "I trust you."
Tim— now the real Mike—leaned down, kissing him tenderly. "I know you do, Tim.
And I'm going to take care of you, just as you deserve."
The new Mike grinned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I love controlling your tall, muscular body in public, and I'll love it even more in private, with you being the smaller one now. It's going to be incredible."
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reiderwriter · 1 year
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The Us That Could Have Been
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader
Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!
W/C: 5.7k
Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.
Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.
A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.
Find the rest of my masterlist here.
If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet. 
Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down. 
“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body. 
“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once. 
“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-” 
“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you. 
“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long. 
“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words. 
“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?” 
“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-” 
“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.” 
–X–
A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right. 
Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.
The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step. 
If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care. 
The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one. 
It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed. 
Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion. 
You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you. 
“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day. 
“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his. 
You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out. 
Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.
“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home. 
“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now. 
The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust. 
The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys. 
“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk. 
“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance. 
“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock. 
“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”
“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.” 
“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.
“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?” 
“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away. 
He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember. 
–X– 
“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead. 
“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time. 
Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day. 
“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them. 
Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions. 
“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?” 
“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it. 
He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway. 
When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.” 
JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women. 
“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it. 
“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…” 
“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue. 
“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession. 
“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed. 
“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.” 
They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued. 
“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”
“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?” 
“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”
JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 
“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them. 
“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around. 
“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.” 
The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you. 
“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.  
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued. 
“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.  
“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her. 
“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out. 
“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in. 
“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word. 
“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.  
“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-” 
“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.  
“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”
“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?” 
“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve. 
“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added. 
“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly. 
“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?” 
They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them. 
“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.
“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.” 
“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.  
“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.  
“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.” 
“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things. 
“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.  
He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.  
You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess. 
“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.  
“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen. 
“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.  
“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly. 
“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came. 
You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left. 
“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.  
“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.” 
–X– 
The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?
Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning. 
“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”
Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.  
“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.  
“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?” 
He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.” 
“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.  
“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.” 
He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly. 
“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said. 
“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.” 
“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time. 
–X– 
You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him. 
You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions. 
“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider. 
It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.  
You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck. 
“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies. 
He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed. 
“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin. 
“I love you, please don’t cry.” 
“I love you, you’re so beautiful.” 
“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again. 
“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him. 
“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body. 
He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.  
“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again. 
“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another. 
Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time. 
“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again. 
He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes. 
“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied. 
“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively. 
“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly, 
“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question. 
“Why did you run away the other day?” 
“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”
“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far. 
“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself. 
“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.” 
“Y/N, please.” 
“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.” 
The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away. 
He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch. 
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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 26 days
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Toto Wolff with wife reader. She would get nervous/have anxiety and would bit her lip until it bleed. To prevent that, Goto would always kiss her no matter what to soothe her. Kinda surprised by his move but she welcomed it. And one day, he unconsciously did that and she repaid him. Fluff and maybe suggestive 👀 Thanks!! :))
Hii, I hope you enjoy this request :)
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Anxiety has a way of creeping up on you when you least expect it. It can start with a flutter in your chest, a tightening of your throat, or in your case, the unconscious habit of biting your lip. You’ve done it for as long as you can remember, but never really gave it much thought—at least not until you met Toto.
The first time he saw your lip bleeding, he was mortified. He immediately rushed over, his dark eyes wide with concern, and cupped your face gently in his large hands. “Meine Liebe, you’re bleeding!” he had exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness. From that moment on, Toto made it his mission to prevent you from hurting yourself. Every time he noticed you biting your lip—whether from stress, anxiety, or deep concentration—he would swoop in and kiss you softly, his lips replacing your teeth, his touch a gentle reminder to ease up.
Over time, this became your ritual. A silent communication. A way for him to say, "I’m here. You don’t have to do this alone." And in his arms, you always found comfort, his kisses like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.
Today, however, the roles are reversed.
It’s race day, and the outcome has been nerve-wracking. The team had high hopes, but the result was far from what everyone expected. As the race came to a close, you noticed Toto standing off to the side, his usually confident posture now slumped, his shoulders tense. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and his jaw was set tight. You could see it in his eyes—the frustration, the anxiety. He was biting the inside of his cheek, something he did when he was overwhelmed.
You walked over to him quietly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Toto,” you said softly, but he didn’t respond, lost in his thoughts. You knew that look all too well. The weight of the race outcome, the pressure of expectations, it was all getting to him.
Without saying another word, you reached up and gently cupped his face, turning it towards you. His eyes, usually so composed, were stormy, his brows knitted together. “Hey,” you whispered, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. “It’s okay.”
He finally focused on you, his gaze softening just a little, but you could see the tension still there. It was then that you decided to do for him what he’s done for you countless times. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, softly at first, a tender kiss meant to pull him away from the whirlwind of his thoughts.
Toto’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t move. Then, as if a switch had flipped, he responded, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in a way that spoke of desperation and need. You could feel the tension leaving his body, melting away as your hands moved up to tangle in his hair, holding him close.
When you finally pulled back, Toto rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his breath mingling with yours. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “I needed that.”
You smiled, brushing your nose against his. “I’m always here for you, just like you are for me.” Your words were a promise, a reminder that he wasn’t alone.
Toto opened his eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I guess it’s your turn to kiss away my anxieties,” he murmured, his tone teasing but laced with affection.
You chuckled softly, your heart swelling with love for this man who was always so strong, so in control, yet trusted you enough to let his guard down. “Anytime,” you whispered before kissing him again, softer this time, a kiss that spoke of comfort and understanding, a kiss that promised you’d always be there to catch him when he fell.
As the world around you buzzed with the aftermath of the race, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s embrace, finding solace in each other’s arms, a moment of peace amid the chaos.
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sinsirellaxx · 6 months
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Toxic Slytherin boyfriends reaction to you getting jealous. Would they do it again? Would they make you more jealous? Would they tease you? 🤭
Slytherin Boys – How would they react to you getting jealous?
A/N: Thank you for the request!
Warning: Veeeeeery slight smut? And our toxic (but not really) boys
Mattheo …
… would be aroused. He had noticed the way you were glaring at him from across the room as the talked to the small blonde girl, who was standing uncomfortably close to him. He was torn between pushing you against the wall you were leaning on, kissing you roughly with his hands in your hair or provoking you further to see if you would make a move. Before Mattheo could settle on one option, the blonde was already pressing herself against his chest with both hands on his shoulders. Mattheo stared at the girl in well-hidden disgust, pushing her back slightly before she could crash her overlined lips on his – but not removing her completely. His eyes wandered back to you only to find the spot empty. Frantically he pushed the blonde away, turning to look left and right only stopping when he caught sight of your retreating back. He followed you into the bathroom, the smirk long gone as he watched you stare at your reflection with watery eyes. Walking up from behind you he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You immediately tried freeing yourself, cursing at him for not pushing her off right away.
“Shhh…” He shushed you as he tightened his grip around you, “I’m sorry, baby. You know I only have eyes for you.” He spoke softly, followed by a chaste kiss pressed onto your temple. When he felt you relax, he turned you around in his arms, gripping your chin to lift your head up with his right hand, his other hand possessively placed onto the small of your back. “But I have to admit … seeing you this worked up has me feeling all kinds of things, doll.” Mattheo smirked as the hand on your lower back moved down to squeeze your ass.
Theodore …
… would definitely enjoy the reversed roles – it was refreshing to him. He leaned over the girl in front of him, his lighter in hand as he slowly lit the cigarette dangling from between her lips. The girl thanked him while biting her lips as Theodore pocketed his lighter before sending her a playful wink. You were left speechless as you glared at Theodore, mouth agape. When your boyfriend saw your face, he just shrugged his shoulders, not giving the impression of wanting to move away from the bold girl who was blatantly flirting with him in front of his girlfriend. He watched the way your hands balled up into fists, biting your lip as you obviously contemplated what to do. The tall male expected you to turn your back and run off but instead you ripped the cigarette from between his lips and threw it at her feet before grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the astronomy tower.
Theodore chuckled as he let himself be led away – already preparing himself for all the scolding he would have to listen to.
Lorenzo …
… stares at you in amusement as you squished his face between your hands before pulling him down for a kiss. The girl who had just offered him a drink turned around with a huff before scurrying off. His hands found their place on your hips as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, capturing your lower lip between his teeth before diving back in for more. He grinded his hips against yours, groaning into your mouth as his pants got uncomfortably tight.
“Let’s take this somewhere else, baby.” Enzo panted against your lips; eyes narrow, his eyes fixed on your swollen lips as he slowly pulled you towards his dorm. To him, you were irresistible – but jealous you? He’d be keeping you busy the whole night.  
Draco …
… smirks smugly as you remove his hand from your thigh again. You’d been sulking for the past twenty minutes because Astoria had been all over him during dinner because she had accidentally spilled her drink on his lap. To everyone’s complete horror she had grabbed napkins and frantically started wiping at his lap and Draco let her, silently enjoying the attention – not Astoria’s but the attention he finally got from you. You had been busy with your assignments the past few days and Astoria dabbing away at his crotch ought to have caught your attention.  Not only that – but you were seething. “No, it’s fine, doll.” Draco smiled reassuringly at the embarrassed girl, finally removing her hands from him. He specifically chose the nickname he always used for you, a grin already on his face as he turned to face you again. He was met with a splash of water, his hair completely ruined, as you placed your now empty cup back on the table before standing up to leave.
Well shit.
Blaise …
… is the epitome of grabbing popcorn to watch the scene unfold. He leaned back in his seat, his legs spread open as he listened to you telling the girl to keep her dirty hands to herself. Before the girl could reply you sat down on Blaise’s left thigh, his left arm immediately pulling you closer to his chest as you continued glaring at the girl. You only relaxed when the girl had disappeared, turning to look at your boyfriend with a raised brow.
“What? I was just enjoying the show, babe. You were kinda hot …” He mumbled, pushing his face into your neck, peppering your soft skin with open-mouthed kisses as his free hand moved to caress your bare legs.
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shywhumpauthor · 6 months
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You Can’t do This
Cw: kidnapping, restraints, torture, mentioned mouth/eye whump (doesn’t actually happen), non-con touching, knives, threat of asphyxiation/choking
“Wait- wait,” Villain sputtered, the words tripping over their tongue, snagging in the back of their throat. “You can’t- Hero, this is illegal- you can’t do this!”
They twisted their wrists against the restraints that bound them to the chair, flexing their fingers to try to relieve a fraction of the pressure. The movement only pushed the cables deeper into their skin, dragging a hiss from their clenched teeth.
A warm hand wrapped around their neck from behind, turning their exhale into a wheeze as their head was shoved against the back of the chair.
“Since when have you cared much about what’s legal?” Hero responded, amusement adding a drawl to their words. They circled the chair, grip on Villain’s neck adjusting so their palm lay against the villain’s wind pipe, fingers digging into the sensitive skin on the side of their neck. Just enough pressure to fear, for Villain to feel the threat of their airway being crushed, but not enough to cut off their breathing. Not yet.
“He-Hero, this isn’t funny, stop.” Villain grit out, shrinking as far back as the chair would allow. Hero only pressed closer, moving in so their legs were on either side of Villain’s, their ankles bound to the chair legs.
“Was it funny when the roles were reversed? All those nights I spent tied up in your basement, bleeding and cold? Was it funny then?” Hero hissed, their other hand raising to Villain’s face with the speed of a strike. Barely in time, Villain braced themself, only for a warm hand to press against their jaw, fingers brushing over the curve of their cheekbone. The touch was stark against the chill in the air, a misplaced comfort—artificial. Hero’s stroked their thumb below Villain’s eye gently, before coming to a pause with both hands cradling either side of Villain’s face. “Was it?”
“No, no Hero, it wasn’t,” Villain’s voice wavered now, threatening to crack. “You can’t do this, you’re s’posed to be the good guy-”
Hero stepped back suddenly, tearing their hands away from Villain’s face like their skin had turned toxic. Villain tried to ignore the ache that swelled in their chest as the cold air drowned any remnants of the warm touch in moments.
“I guess I am, aren’t I? The ‘good guy’?” Hero repeated, turning their back to Villain. They stepped to the side of the poorly lit room, to something that resembled an old workbench, their body blocking Villain from seeing what they were doing. “I wonder what the press will say about your sudden absence. They’ll publish anything I tell them to, you know? I could feed them some story about you fleeing the city, the country even, and your name would be forgotten in a week.”
Hero turned around, bracing their palms against the workbench and leaning back.
“Everyone always believes the good guy, don’t they?” Hero shook their head. “No one cares about another pesky street criminal, do they? All they care about is Supervillain, the papers would move on from you the next day and you’d be forgotten. You wouldn’t even get one of those ten year follow-ups.”
“Hero, let me go. You can’t do this. You can’t,” Villain twisted their arms against their restraints in one last pitiful attempt to free themself, accomplishing nothing but to make Hero chuckle.
Hero pushed themself forwards, striding closer. It was only then Villain noticed something in their hand, slender and orange—a box cutter, they realized quickly, as the hero closed the distance between them in three steps.
“Tell me exactly what I can and can’t do, Villain? What can’t I do to you?” Their hand twisted in Villain’s hair, shoving their head back against the chair while the other flipped out the blade on the box cutter.
The words died in Villain’s throat. Their lips parted, eyes tracking the blade as Hero lifted it up to their face.
“I can do anything I want to you.” Hero’s eyes stared directly into Villain’s as they placed the blade against their skin, just below their eye. “You should be glad, your eyes look so pretty when you’re scared. Otherwise I would’ve plucked them out by now,” Hero began to move the blade to the side, putting just enough pressure to split a thin line of red below Villain’s eye.
Villain didn’t dare breathe as Hero paused, gritting their teeth against the sting as they felt the blade puncture a bit deeper. A drop of blood rolled down their cheek like a tear.
“I thought about this moment every night in your basement,” Hero muttered, pushing the edge harder into Villain’s flesh as they followed the track of the blood, drawing a half suppressed yelp from Villain as the pain suddenly intensified. “Planning out exactly what I would do to you, how I’d pay you back for everything you’ve done to me.”
Hero accented the last word with a sudden sharp twist, finishing the line to Villain’s jaw before pulling their hand back. Tears burning in the corners of Villain’s eyes, welling faster than Villain could suppress them.
“Ple- please, Hero, you can’t,” Villain’s voice trembled, any thoughts of maintaining their dignity gone with their fear.
Hero’s palm cracked against their bleeding cheek, catching them off guard. Pain like fire burned from the cut, their head snapping to the side with the force of the blow.
“This will be your only warning,” Hero began, their empty hand grabbing Villain by the chin and tugging them back to look at them. “I do not have the same reservations about your voice as I do your eyes. Another word from you, I’ll cut out your tongue and shove it down your throat and it’ll be the only food you get for a month, got it?”
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pinkdick79 · 8 months
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love; derek hale x reader
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back to masterlist
pairing: derek hale x reader (she/her)
warnings: none
prompt: 5. “he loves you, you know? he’s just afraid of admitting it.”
summary: in which the reader and derek are oblivious to liking eachother and it’s painful for everyone to watch.
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
derek hale is called many things - sour wolf, the mean alpha, power hungry, and selfish. but turns out, he’s not any of those things. well, maybe a bit power hungry but he got past that.
derek has always been nothing but nice to you. always been courteous and sweet whenever you’re around, never mean or selfish like stiles or scott says he is.
the first time you met derek was when peter resurrected himself by using lydia. you were out for a walk when came across the hale house. you’ve heard tales about it and decided to go inside, little did you know that would be the start of your friendship with the one and only, derek hale.
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
right now, you’re sitting in derek’s loft waiting to have a mandatory pack meeting that scott called. you’re with lydia, peter, stiles, issac, allison, erica, and boyd.
“what do you think this is about?” lydia asks.
“no idea. but it’s probably pretty importing seeing as though it’s seven in the morning.” stiles says, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket that was previously sitting on the back of derek’s couch.
“it’s more than likely about the kanima issue we’re currently having.” issac matter-of-factly says. he’s always been a straight to the point type of guy, kind of like derek.
“where are derek and scott? they called this meeting and yet they aren’t even here.” you speak out to nobody in particular.
“they’re probably getting snacks or something. they know how the betas get in the morning and during meetings without some form of food consumption.” peter replies to you with a small smirk at your mention of derek.
everyone knows of your crush on derek. and of derek’s crush on you. yet, neither of you two act on it. the pack is getting tired of the small glances and touches you guys share and not putting a label on whatever you guys have going on.
it’s obvious to anyone looking at you both that there is something going on, except the two of you.
“well, well. would you look who decided to show up.” you break out of your thoughts and look up and see scott and derek. heart fastening a little at the sight of him.
“oh, would you be quiet? you know how everyone gets without food during these meetings. you should be thanking us.” scott says, setting the food down on the coffee table and taking a seat by allison.
derek sits down next to you on the couch, putting his arm around the back of you. admittedly, it makes you blush a little bit. but you can’t let him know that so you try to avoid eye contact with him. obviously it didn’t work.
derek looks at you confused because you never purposely turn away from him. he looks down at you, “hey, you good? these guys didn’t bother you that much did they?”
“uh no no it’s fine. it’s just a little warm in here, you know?” you try to hide your face with embarrassment while talking to him.
“oh, okay. do you want me to turn the heat down or anything?” he asks you.
“no, it’s fine.” you say.
“okay.” he drops the subject and goes to listening in on scott telling the pack about what needs to happen with the kanima issue.
you look up at him, admiring all his features. his eye, his hair, his body. holy shit. you can’t help but think, he’s really pretty. i guess he noticed you staring at him because he looks down at you mid stare.
“what are you looking at?” he questions.
“nothing, nothing at all.” you say with a little smile while turning away and focusing on what scott is saying. roles reversed now.
this time, derek is staring at you while you listen to scott speak. man, she’s so pretty. he thinks to himself. i wish i could just tell her how i feel without putting her in danger.
“hey y/n? can i talk to you a second?” lydia asks, “in private?”
“yeah, sure.” you say.
she gets up and you follow in tow. she leads you up the stairs of the loft, up into derek’s bedroom.
his room his neat. bed made and well put together. you could’ve guessed that it would’ve been considering how much of a neat freak derek is.
“y/n.” lydia speaks.
“what? what’s wrong, lyds?” you question her.
“you and derek keep looking at each other like your in love. when are you gunna to confess to him that you’ve liked him for the past two years?”
“what?! one, derek definitely doesn’t like me like that, we’re just friends. and two, we aren’t looking at each other like we love each other.” you try explaining, lying out of your ass.
“bullshit. he loves you, you know? he’s just too afraid to admit it. he just doesn’t want you wrapped up in all his issues and getting you in danger or hurt.” lydia says.
“i don’t know, lyds. there’s no way he could like me. i mean, we’ve been friends for almost three years and he hasn’t once shown an interest in me.”
lydia leads you to the bed, sitting you down on it and her sitting right next to you.
“i think you need to ask him how he feels, ‘cause i can tell you right now that the whole pack is getting tired of you guys making googly eyes at each other and acting like you’re in love.” she’s definitely speaking facts. ever since about a year ago, you and derek’s relationship has been different, more flirty but not enough for you to notice a drastic change.
“fine. i’ll ask him after the pack meeting, but if he doesn’t feel the same way i’m not coming to another meeting for like, four months.” you say.
“you’re being dramatic, y/n.”
“nope. i’m serious, id be too embarrassed coming back.” you explain, smiling cheekily.
“you promise to ask him after the meeting then? because i can swear to you that he feels the same way.” lydia says.
“yes lyds, i promise.”
“perfect. then let’s go back down there.” she gets up and starts walking back down to the main floor with you in tow right behind her.
you guys make your way back to the pack and you sit back down by derek. except this time when you look up at him, he’s smirking back down at you.
“what are you smirking at, huh?” you ask him with a slight smile on your face.
he leans down to whisper in your ear so only you can hear what he’s saying, “oh nothing, just that i think you and lydia forgot that i could hear every word that you guys just said.”
oh shit
“whattt… i uh, don’t know what you’re talking about, der.” you try to play it off. acting like your heart rate isn’t beating a thousand miles per hour right now.
“don’t worry, love. i think we have something to talk about after the meeting though.” he says, and then bringing his head back up and focusing on the meeting once more, not giving you time to respond.
the remainder of the meeting seems like it’s forever, when in reality it was probably only twenty minutes at most. at the end, everyone gets up to leave and when you try to, derek grabs your wrist bringing you back down beside him. “i don’t think so, love. we need to talk.”
der, i really don’t think we should. i already know you don’t feel the same way i feel. so what’s the point in even talking about it?” you say.
“who said i don’t feel the same?” he says with a smirk on his face.
“what’s that suppose to mean?”
“it means that i like you too, dumbass. in fact, i am in love with you. i didn’t want to tell you because with us being together it would put you in danger.” he confesses.
“derek..” you start.
“with everything going on, you’re always there for me and i don’t know what i would do without you. if something were to happen i couldn’t live with myself. you’re perfect. you’re funny, smart, beauti-“ you cut him off.
you kiss him.
you couldn’t take him rambling and rambling about how much he wanted you but couldn’t have you. you’re fine with being in danger as long as your with him.
your guys’ mouths mold perfectly in sync. this is even better than i thought it would be. you think to yourself.
eventually, you pull away. gasping for breath and looking at derek. he looks happy, ecstatic even. you’ve never seen him smile this big before.
“derek.”
“yes, love?”
“i don’t care if i am in danger in order to be with you. i want to be with you no matter what is happening in our lives.” you say.
“then i promise to keep you safe, no matter the circumstances.” he says.
“so what does this mean then? like, us?” you ask.
“i guess this means i finally get to take you out.” he pronounces, goofy smile on his face.
“about time.”
519 notes · View notes
sixosix · 9 months
Text
YOU MUST LIKE ME FOR ME | LYNEY
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notes wc 3.5k, for readers keeping up with the updates as they come, it’s been a while since the last update! so for the sake of understanding this chapter, please reread the previous one !!
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You were starting to regret ever opening your mouth and letting Aether blackmail you into helping him. Maybe if you had insisted on cooking dinner and Rosalie took over the counter, none of this would’ve happened. But what’s happened has happened—and you have a feeling that you would’ve ended up here regardless because fate hated you.
Lyney emerges from the shadows, sliding into the spotlight as if he was born for it. Meant to be there in the middle of the stage with all eyes on him and nowhere else. He has his arms spread wide open, fully welcoming the elated whispers of the audience.
“Welcome, one and all, to Lyney and Lynette’s magic show!”
His voice echoes throughout the opera house, nearly drowned out by the roaring cheers that follow after. Lyney then grins, bowing with half of his body.
The way he moves across the stage—it’s hard to imagine it’s the same guy who stumbled over his steps to make you notice him. It seems like the roles have reversed. Now, the audience is watching each move with bated breath, on the edge of their seats, watching him.
“Please, let me also welcome my sister and my assistant, Lynette!”
Lynette steps onto the stage, her tail flicking at the noises. You swear you heard a kid whisper wildly to his mother that it was a part-cat human, maman! Why is Mr. Lyney not also one if they are siblings, maman?
Lyney may not have the ears and tail, but you remember the way his eyes followed you around like a cat tracking its prey, seconds away from pouncing. He resembled a cat more than Lynette at times.
“Hello,” Lynette says to the crowd and leaves it at that. The crowd loves it anyway.
Lyney grins. Something about it feels so different. He was cute as a kid, but now, with all teeth and sparkling eyes, he’s like a dream far out of reach.
“Are you okay?” Aether whispers. You almost jump out of your seat, breaking from the trance. “If you keep digging your nails in like that, you might rip the dress.”
“Ah.” You haven’t even realized. “Don’t worry about it. First-show jitters or something.”
“You’re not the one performing?”
“Or something.” you insist. Aether laughs under his breath and, thankfully, leaves it.
Back when you were at the House, Lyney could only do simple tricks. Plucking cards from his sleeves or hiding them in between his fingers. He was clumsy with making cards float, revealing doves from his hat, and producing flowers in a snap.
It seems to come from second nature for him this time. He flicks his hand, and a beautiful Lumidouce Bell materializes on his palm. Lyney throws it to the crowd; it lands by your feet.
“Wow, that was so cool!” Paimon gasps as you move to pick it up.
You remember now. This was the only flower Lyney used for his tricks, as they come in bundles when found. Often after dinner, Lyney would perform to practice for the other orphans, and it ended with a mess of these flowers scattered across the ground or left unattended by their beds after presenting it to them.
“Hold on,” Paimon says, “Is he looking at us? Did we miss something?”
Lyney is definitely looking in your direction. He has fallen silent, frowning. You start wishing that he is staring, not because he recognizes you but because you’re drop-dead gorgeous or something.
“Y/N?” Lyney says, his soft voice loud in the pin-drop silent auditorium.
Well.
“Mr. Lyney?” One of his assistants on stage asks. “What’s wrong?”
The crowd starts to murmur; then their fervent whispers grow in volume until everyone is talking loudly. Another accident? Mr. Lyney looks terrified! Aghast! Meanwhile, Lyney stays frozen in his spot; he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. It was the same look he gave you that night. Maybe his face hasn’t changed that much, after all.
“Lyney?” Lynette asks from the side of the stage, her face poking out. Then she follows his gaze, and her eyes widen as well. That’s when you knew—
“Shit,” you mutter, clutching the flower and springing up from your seat. You can’t have this happen while an audience is watching. That would totally ruin the whole point of laying low.
It was definitely not because you’re drop-dead gorgeous, but the fact that he still recognizes you has to mean something, right? Something that you don’t want to think about at the moment. You hurry to the exit, ignoring the dirty looks you get as you brush past.
“Did that girl do something?”
“Where are the gardes?! She must have done something to make Mr. Lyney chase after her’”
Seriously? You cast a glance, and Lyney’s scrambling down the stage, his assistants yelling after him and demanding for an explanation.
“Wait, no!” Lyney exclaims in response to the audience reluctantly getting up from their seats and reaching out to you. “Ah— Not to worry, everyone! I just have personal matters to attend to. Please, just stay—”
Idiot, you want to scream, it’s not so personal if you’re chasing after me in front of all of them!
The Melusine guarding the entrance seems oblivious to the ruckus inside. She blinks up at your haste and asks, “Is the show over?”
You say, “I have an emergency. Uhm—I, uh.”
Her face turns serious. She nods. “I see.”
“What— what are you thinking? it’s—” Your ears pick up on Lyney’s steps, and you wisely decide that it is not the time to save face. You give the Melusine a wave. “Thank you!”
You take a swift, sharp turn once you’ve reached the end of the stairs, stumbling into a dead end, and you don’t get very far.
You wonder if Aether and Paimon chased after you or if they’d pretend not to know you for the sake of the mission. If you die, you hope they would at least still pay you for compensation, and the money would go to Rosalie. Or maybe she would be enraged when she finds out you’re a Fatuus and doesn’t take it. Maybe your story of deceiving Rosalie would make her customers flourish, buying flowers to disguise the intent of asking about the liar residing in her home for years.
“Caught you,” Lyney whispers, his firm grip around your waist. The rushing water is noisy, but his voice is clear to your ears.
Hearing his voice up close is a problem. “Whoever you think I am, you’re mistaken!”
“Then why did you run?”
“You—” You had that look on your face I didn’t want to see again “—I forgot to lock my door. I don’t want my house to be robbed. Which might be occurring at this moment the longer you have me like this.”
Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.
“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”
Your face burns. “Thanks, but I don’t even know who you… ugh, stop looking at me like that…” Lyney’s smile, looking so fond, doesn’t falter in the slightest as if he expects that you would say that word for word.
“You think I’d mistake someone else for you? You’re the only one who runs from me like this,” he murmurs. His gaze feels heavy. 
“Mr. Lyney,” you sigh and turn away. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye when he says shit like that.  “Please. I didn’t show my face around anymore for a reason. A good reason.”
“I don’t trust your judgment to believe that.”
“Don’t talk as if you know me. We’ve been apart longer than we’ve been together.”
“Still, your words are as hurtful as ever,” Lyney says with a sad smile. You stiffen when he cups your cheek and touches you, his gloves rough on your skin. “You’re alive.”
You scowl. “Have you such little faith in me? How many times have I beaten you again?”
Lyney laughs again. Somehow, this is much worse than him killing you on sight. 
Lynette appears in your line of sight from behind Lyney, with Aether and Paimon trailing after her. Her steps are slow. Aether has that expression on his face that says, don’t react!
Luckily, Lyney takes your hitch of breath as embarrassment at having witnesses. He tears away but promptly reaches for your wrist as if a leash for a dog. You tug, but nothing happens. For someone who looks so delicate, he has quite the strength.
“Hello, Traveler, Paimon,” he says pleasantly. “Sorry to interrupt your show.”
Aether shakes his head. “I just wondered if something went wrong.”
Does this not look wrong enough for him? You hurl him a blank stare.
Lyney follows Aether’s gaze and glowers. He jerks you to his side and stares at Aether pointedly. Aether looks at you, confused. You don’t know what the fuck is going on either.
“I didn’t know you were familiar with Y/N,” Lyney observes coldly.
“I don’t,” Aether says easily. “I came out here to see if you were okay.”
Still, Lyney doesn’t loosen his grip.
“Y/N,” Lynette says. She interrupts whatever dick-measuring contest is brewing with a small smile on her face. “You’re here.”
“I am,” you wheeze out, still trapped in Lyney’s arms. It’s a little difficult to be anywhere else with your current predicament.
Lynette clears her throat, giving her brother a look. You recognize that one—it’s the one she uses when Lyney is embarrassing her and would give him a stern word about it later. Lyney grumbles and sets you free.
“Traveler, I have something to say to you,” Lyney says, his chin high and his stare cool.
“Alright,” Aether says, brows furrowed. He casts you a glance that Lyney watches carefully. “Come on, Paimon.”
Lynette fixes your sleeves as the boys leave for somewhere more secluded. You follow them until their silhouettes disappear. “How have you been?” she asks.
“I’ve just been in the low, but I’m doing fine,” you say, feeling a little shy. Lynette has grown up as nicely as her brother. Her hair is tied up now; you remember that Lyney used to beg for Lynette to use the hairclips he’s bought, but Lynette insists she doesn’t like them. You offered her a hair tie that day. “It’s been really stressful and all that. Sorry to ruin your show.”
“Don’t worry about that. Or them. You’re here—that’s the most important thing on Lyney’s mind at the moment,” she says, and at the face you’re making, she adds: “And you can’t tell me I’m wrong. You know I’m not.”
“Haha.” You don’t know what to say to that.
Lynette hums. “Are you carrying out missions?”
You start thinking about the danger of confessing to present-fatuis that you are no longer one. As much as you trust them, you don’t trust they hold you to the same level. They have complete faith and loyalty towards The Knave, which you abandoned long ago. The orphans’ trust ran deep, and no one—not even you—could fuck with it.
You nod. “Yes, which is why I’ve been too busy. I’m— you see, I work for Lord Tartaglia now.”
Lynette looks stunned, speechless. Lyney has words to say, though, coming back at the perfect time. You take a peek at Aether, but it seems that he hasn’t followed Lyney back.
Lyney hurries to your side. “Master Childe? Is that why you’re here? We saw him around yesterday… Was it yesterday?” He turns to his sister, who nods.
Just your luck. Of all the Harbingers you thought of, it’s the one currently in Fontaine.
You’re losing confidence, and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You used to look at the orphans in the House of the Hearth and think that you can beat them easily, without a sweat—right now, it feels as if they’re miles from your reach.
“Is this where Mr. Lyney went?” you hear from afar. “Perhaps they went back to the city!”
Lyney and Lynette’s faces turn exasperated. Lyney drags you further to the corner of the wall, and Lynette has her eyes peeled, scanning the path that leads here.
“Listen, I have to go. I can’t stay here for long.” They report everything to her; you know that well enough. “The— ‘Father’ already knows I’m here, so there’s no need to talk about me.”
Lyney stares at you for a moment too long. “Why?”
You wrack your head for something the twins wouldn’t be able to push. “I’m ashamed to see Father while I’m like this. After our fight, she had to transfer me. My pride and all that, you know?” You put on a timid expression. “Please don’t push.”
It works seamlessly. Lyney’s face falls. “Are you going to run from us again?”
“She might make me leave if she finds out I was talking to you.”
Lyney looks angry. “I’ll make sure she won't.”
“Don’t push,” you remind him softly. You’re a little stunned that he’s going this far. “I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you to the point of letting you slip from my grasp again.”
Hmm. That’s a strange way of phrasing it.
Before you can look into it anymore, Lyney takes your hand. “You said to me my loyalty is my worth. Well, by that logic, I’m nothing but valuable to you.”
“…Right,” you murmur, facing away from him and turning to Lynette for help, but she’s looking off to the side as well, still watching out for any gardes, yet her ears are pointed here. “I know that.”
“Y/N?” Lyney’s smiling when he forces your attention on him once more.
“Hm? What?” You need to look for Aether fast. Maybe tell him of the events that transpired and convince him that this was a terrible idea and Aether can arrest Lyney for all you care.
You do care. That’s the whole reason you’re doing this in the first place.
“I’m happy to see you,” he says.
“...I’ll see you around, Miss Lynette and Mr. Lyney.”
It wasn’t difficult to look for Aether and Paimon. You found them easily because you wanted to go there yourself: Hotel Debord.
Paimon’s wolfing down a plate of cake while Aether idly sips on his drink. Aether notices you first, waving you over. You find it strange that as soon as you pad over, Aether gestures to the stairs. You three climb up and find a place at the furthest table in the far corner.
“Lyney performs here sometimes, I heard,” Aether says as you settle in on a seat.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t strike this place with a surprise one while we’re on the most conspicuous seat,” you grumble. Paimon hands you her drink as comfort.
“I’d say that was a success,” Aether says, grinning. “Heartfelt reunion and rekindled feelings— I’ve never seen Lyney like that.”
“Like what?” Remembering Aether’s fixation on insisting on a blossoming relationship between you and the man you can’t even look in the eye, you immediately say, “Never mind. I don’t care. I ruined the plan.”
Aether laughs. “You didn’t, trust me. I learned something valuable today.”
You sip on the teacup. It’s Fonta, and it’s as unbearably sweet as the look in Lyney’s eyes as he talked to you. You’ve had enough of that for today.
“You can never hide it in your face when you care for someone,” Aether continues.
“You have that look on your face,” you say suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re also going to blackmail Lyney?”
“What? Of course not. That’s what I blackmailed you for.”
You snort. “And the Outlander reveals his true colors. You seriously still don’t believe me?”
“I still don’t have the information I want to have,” Aether reminds, stealing a piece of Paimon’s cake. She grumbles but doesn’t say anything else. She’s surprisingly compliant when there’s a plate before her. “That’s what you’re also here for, remember?”
“I don’t know, Aether,” you lament, sinking into your seat. “It feels like I made everything harder for me. “Do you still not trust them?”
“I think I blew it, too,” Aether laughs sheepishly. “I don’t think Lyney trusts me anymore.”
Paimon snorts, then quiets down when Aether shoots her a look.
“What did you and Lyney talk about?”
“It was a bit weird,” Aether confesses, then blushes at his drink. “I think Lyney was threatening me. He told me he saw me with someone by an alley.” At your confused look, Aether clarifies, “Doing something scandalous, I mean.”
You never thought Aether was the type, but that’s none of your business.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Aether sighs. “Of course I wasn’t up to anything of that sort. I’m still figuring out what he meant by that.”
“Maybe it’s a metaphor,” you say.
But Lyney doesn’t go lying about things like that. He may have a roundabout way of talking when he’s feeling playful, but ruining someone’s reputation is far too serious for that. And Aether never told you that Lyney was hostile around him—none of this just makes sense.
“All I remember was…” Aether’s gaze cuts down to your waist, and then he falls silent.
You frown. “Aether?”
Aether sighs. “I blew it. It’s up to you now.”
“Do you still see them as a threat?” you ask.
“It’s not that I see them as a threat. It’s just that… if they’re an obstacle I have to overcome between me and my sister, then I will do what it takes.”
Of course, you’re still stuck handling a pair of identical siblings. You could never understand the bond between them, but you have to admit, it’s interesting to see two sides of twins. One still together and one apart.
“Oh, right. Hold on,” Aether mutters, swiping a hand in the air. You watch in fascination as a bag materializes on his lap. He draws out a letter. “Lyney wanted me to give this to you, too.”
You read the contents. Aether asks, “What is it? A love letter? Does it have hearts drawn on it?”
“Stop that,” you say. “It has an address, no hearts.”
Aether gasps. Even Paimon pauses from her feast. “An address,” they chorus.
“It says meet me tomorrow.”
Aether hums. “Maybe this isn’t turning out so bad.”
Lyney’s soft expression flashes in your mind—the flower, the arm around your waist, ma chérie— Seriously, who told him it was alright to go around seducing women like that? You groan, your face falling into your palms. You both blew it. Maybe Paimon has a better chance of retrieving information than either of you.
“You must’ve really liked the Fonta,” Aether says, gesturing to your empty cup. “Want another one?”
You don’t hesitate before saying yes.
The flower Lyney threw you has already wilted by the time you return to the flower shop. It’s past midnight, yet there is still a dim light washing over from outside. You spot Rosalie seated by the chair behind the counter, her posture straightening as the bell chimes.
“You’re back!” She grins, though her eyes look heavy and a little red. She must’ve been sleeping deeply.
“Rosalie,” you greet, a little fond, a little exasperated, “did you wait for me?”
“I told that Outlander boy to bring you home before ten,” she huffs, ambling over to you. She pats your dress and sighs dreamily. “Did you enjoy Mr. Lyney’s show?”
There was no show to begin with. “Yes. I did. It was splendid. Cut a bit too short, though.”
“Were you chosen as a participant?” she asks, hopeful.
“No,” you say, laughing a little. Although Mr. Lyney did chase after me. You wonder what kind of face Rosalie would make if you told her that. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if you did; you’re sparing her quite nicely.
Rosalie smiles. You like her smile; it’s all soft and fond, and she’s always smiling, leaving smile lines on her face. If you got caught earlier and she found out about your true past, would she still smile at you like that? “You should get some sleep. You look tired.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re so cute, mon ange. You look like you’re glowing!” Rosalie squeals, pulling you in for a hug that smothered your face on her neck. “You should go out more often!”
“Glowing?” Rosalie’s hug has your words come out all fucked up. “If anything, I’m drained— maman, your hair is getting on my mouth, please. And I still want to work here, okay? Don’t kick me out so suddenly.”
Rosalie’s frozen, her smile wiped off her face. You look up and blink at her curiously. “Rosalie?” you ask.
She stammers, “Oh—ah, it’s nothing. I just thought— Oh, you’re right. I’m tired, too. Don’t stay out so late next time if you don’t want my face having eyebags!”
As much as you hate to admit it, seeing Lyney and Lynette did feel a bit nice.
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notes !!! new chapter yay :D lmk what u think !!
akagi back at it again with giving us bangers like its NOTHING. look at this scene of lyney recognizing reader in the audience!! the details... aughhh + THE EXTRA ART IS SO FUNNY
PLUS PLUS LOOK AT AKAGIS ART OF LITTLE LYNEY AND GROWN UP LYNEY AAAHHH
TAGLIST.
@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlololol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci
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prazinos · 29 days
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Everyone loves a Ghost mechanic AU, but I raise you mechanic au where the roles are reversed.
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Simon cursed as the engine to his truck made the third unpleasant grinding sound within the past half an hour. He didn’t exactly know a lot about cars, so he thought it would be better to just drive to a mechanic. And that’s exactly what he did. 
Pulling into the mechanic garage, Simon stepped out, brows furrowing when he can’t see anyone.
“Hey, hun. What can I do you for?” a voice rang out from behind him, and when Simon turned and looked down, he saw you. A woman who looked far too pretty to be working in a dingy mechanic shop. You were far more fit to be in SImon’s house, all barefoot and pregnant, greeting him with a kiss and a hug when he gets home from work. 
“Hello? You need something done on your truck?” you asked, snapping Simon out of his thoughts.
“Uh, engines making a sound. Like grinding.” Simon muttered, voice gruff “I'd fix it myself but all I know about cars is how to change a tire.”
You seemed satisfied with that answer, wiping your hands on a rag you had tucked into your overalls, before walking over to the front of the old beat up red truck, and popping open the hood.
Simon leaned against a concrete pillar, crossing his arms and staring at you. He didn’t trust easily.
After you’d looked at his car, you wiped your hands again, before going up to Simon. “It seems to be your bearings, sweet pea. Gonna be around four hundred, I can have it done in a few hours” you informed him. Simon couldn’t help the twinge of amusement at the nicknames you’re calling him.
Simon nodded silently, before pulling out his wallet.
“But,” you start, a coy smile on your lips “i’ll only charge you three hundred cause you’re cute”
The tips of Simon’s ears go red, something that happened whenever he was flustered. Been happening since he was a kid and Penny on the playground gave him a kiss on the cheek before running away. And judging by how your coy smile only grows wider, you notice his flustered give away as well.
“Right…thanks” Simon says, still reeling from your boldness. “You uh…You take care of my truck. Real attached to that thing” he finished.
“Oh don’t worry, by the time you come back to pick her up, she’ll be stripped and sold for whatever parts I can salvage.” you quipped, biting your lip as you grinned. The action made Simon swoon slightly.
Simon ended up leaving and going to a coffee shop nearby, talking to Price on the phone about an upcoming mission while he waited.
When Simon got back, he couldn’t help the twitch of his lips at the small amount of grease smeared on your cheek. You walked over, wiping your hands on your overalls this time, not the rag.
“All fixed up for you moonpie,” you grin, “I’m about to close up for the day so you best go on now.” you smile, holding the keys out to him.
Simon grunted and nodded, “thank you” he murmured, taking his keys from your hand, noting how much bigger his hand was compared to yours, before turning and getting in his truck, reversing out of the garage.
He grimaced slightly when the sun hit his eyes while he waited for an entrance to pull out onto the road, the sun was setting yet not all the way set, at that annoying angle which practically blinded him.
So, he quickly pressed the sunglasses compartment above him, Simon’s eyes widening for a moment when a piece of paper fell out alongside his sunglasses. 
“You’re sweet on the eyes, sweet pea. Call me sometime xoxo" with your phone number scribbled on it.
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157 notes · View notes
cherigu · 1 year
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— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Dulce Venganza!
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Genre: smut Pairing: sub!jeongguk x softdom!reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: college!au, fratboy!jk, grinding, solo masturbation (m), hand job (m), nipple sucking, vaginal penetration, cowgirl position, unprotected sex, overstimulation, PUSSY WHIPPED JK, fluffy ending
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⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
Attending a party held by the most popular fraternity was a one-way ticket to seeing everyone you despised, something you should’ve kept in mind before you found yourself getting holes burned into by your ex’s laser eyes across the room. You had done fairly well in minding your business all night, having gone to this party mainly for the drinks. This meant you hadn’t socialized much all night, most of your friends abandoning you for some mediocre dude upstairs. 
All you were here for was to stand still by the drinks table and look pretty. You knew how to doll up, wearing a two-piece mini skirt with a matching crop top. It accentuated your body shape and showed your assets just right. Instead of working in your favor and attracting a good-looking guy to spend the night with, it seemed to work against you since your ex couldn’t seem to look away. Even while having his tongue shoved throat-deep into a girl, he still managed to maintain eye contact with you
You knew what his plan was, he wanted to make you as jealous as possible tonight. Unfortunately for him, you couldn’t care less about what he chose to do with his life anymore. Whatever he was doing was just pathetic at this point, desperately wanting to catch the attention of somebody who no longer found him on her list of priorities.
Even then, you couldn’t find it in you to ignore his petty attempt at making you mad. It was the least you could do to spice up the night. Although the show he put on with the girl on the dance floor didn’t upset you in the least, you were sure he would be affected if the roles were reversed. Two could play at that game, even if you secretly knew that this would ultimately be a poor excuse for hooking up with someone for the night. 
You smirked to yourself while you scanned the crowd of bodies, needing to find someone who’d hit him right where it hurts, he deserved it after all. Your eyes immediately caught another pair, those of a person who’d make for a perfect target. Jeon Jeongguk.
Popular athlete, leader of the frat, host of the party and not to mention, attractive. The guy fulfilled all of the qualities your ex lacked and surely would make him weep like a little baby at night because you deserved better than him, which wouldn’t be a lie. You weren’t a nobody in your class, owning a fair share of popularity gave you a striking social life. Apart from your captivating personality, came the out-of-this-world beauty. 
This was another reason you didn’t take time to second guess your plan, you knew any guy would feel rather accomplished to even breathe your air, let alone have a night with you. You had an unmatched ability to coin any man, even those like pretty boy Jeon. Undoubtedly the perfect woman, it’d make for a great achievement to boast about to the guys lining up at your feet for a chance. 
So you began to strut towards Jeongguk, watching the smug smirk on his face grow as the distance between the two of you grew. “Eyed me long enough, usually they crawl over immediately after seeing me stare back. Almost thought I’d have to break the tradition and approach you first” He joked through the loud music.
“How sweet of you” You sneered, lightly hitting his chest with the back of your manicured hand before stretching it out towards him. “Wanna dance?” 
“Thought you’d never ask” He smiled, taking your hand in his and letting you drag him to the dance floor. Pushing your way through the sea of sweaty bodies that reeked of alcohol, you were able to find a spot to dance with Jeongguk in.
Giving your ex a clear view, you pressed your back into the boy behind you, wrapping your arms around his neck and sensually moving your body against him. His hands lowered to your waist, taking a firm hold of it when he felt you begin to grind against him.
He lowered his head down to your ear, close enough to whisper so you could hear him easier over the blaring speakers. “Dude in front of us will not stop shooting daggers at me, babe” 
You ceased your actions to turn around and face him, loosely snaking your hands around either side of his neck and cocking your head, “I know, ‘s why im doing this” You chuckled. He brought a hand up to his chest to feign offense, “So you’re telling me that pretty girl is using the Jeon Jeongguk to her advantage?” 
“Don’t flatter yourself too much, are you gonna help me or not?” You asked, needing to know if he was still okay with this going forward. “Wanna see how upset he can get?” He smiled, eyes darting down to your plump, glossy lips. “Mmm, show me” 
With that, he pressed his lips into yours, satisfied with how you immediately melted into the kiss. The taste of your cherry-flavored gloss overwhelmed his senses, almost forgetting what all of this was about. Similar to him, any thought of your original plan was out the window, solely focusing on basking in his sweet taste. Your lips moved in sync, molding together perfectly. 
The two of you knew of each other but never took the chance to pay much attention. You were too focused on yourself to enter the dating world, as he was too busy with his sports to do the same. But this kiss, this kiss was enough to show the both of you what you had missed out on. It didn’t take much for the two of you to crave more.
The slight nibble on his lower lip had him rubbing his clothed length on you, causing you to pull him even closer to deepen the kiss. You slowly pulled away, desperate for air but not yet wanting to break the kiss. He looked so pretty above you, swollen lips and big doe eyes silently pleading to be kissed again. Just as he was about to lean in again, you pressed a finger to his lips, “Not here.” 
He cocked a brow in confusion, following you upstairs into an empty bedroom nevertheless. You were quick to continue the kiss, swiftly locking the door and pushing his back into it. You swirled your tongue around his, swallowing the breathy moans he let out. Your leg came up in between his own, firmly propping it against his crotch as he began to grind down on it.
The feel of his hard-on made your stomach flip and you suddenly found yourself asking Jeongguk permission to remove his shirt to which he agreed. Immense pleasure shot through him as his tip rubbed against your thigh, rapidly bringing him down from the short high he was on.
“W-wait Y/n..” He pulled back, “He isn’t here anymore” his puzzled look made you snicker at his oblivion. “What, did you want an audience?” You asked, watching his chest heave up and down at the feel of your leg still pressed against him. You cupped his cheek, lifting his gaze towards you, “This stopped being about him as soon as you kissed me” You inched your knee higher, “But we can stop if this is outside of your intentions.” your finger grazed his cheek affectionately, watching him melt into your touch.
“No! I mean… No, it’s alright..” He confirmed, brushing the stray hairs out of your beautiful face. Fighting the urge to kiss him, you focused on getting comfortable. “Go sit on the bed and take your pants off, baby” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before letting him go on to follow your instruction, watching him sit against the headboard and quickly remove his pants along with his Calvin Klein boxers.
His pretty cock sprung out, thick veins leading to the swollen red tip that grazed his lower belly. You walked towards the foot of the bed, helping you get a more direct view of Jeongguk’s figure. “Want you to touch yourself for me, yea?” You asked, smiling at the compliant nod you received. You began to unzip the back of your corset-like top, letting it fall to the floor exposing your perky tits.
Content with Jeongguks reaction, who eyed you down with his bottom lip caught in his teeth while he gave a light squeeze to his length, you began to slowly slide your skirt down. You made sure to wiggle your hips a bit, adding to the show you were putting on for him. Once your skirt was fully discarded, you pulled down the skimpy pair of red laced panties you’d purposely worn for tonight, not knowing that the boy who’d be lucky enough to see them would be Jeongguk. 
You walked over to the side of the bed as he followed you with his eyes, watching you climb the bed and sit on his lap, close enough to his cock that he could almost feel the heat radiating from your core. He instinctively bucked his hips up, searching for your touch after he let his hand fall to his side. “Eager baby?” You asked before he mumbled a quiet “Yes.”
Your hand came down to his cock, using the thick glob of precum that had gathered on his tip to easily glide your hand up and down his shaft. He threw his head back at the way your hand worked around him, pressing your fingers into his weak spots like you’d done this with him before. “Right the-ahh” You ripped a whiny moan from his mouth by brushing your fingers under the head of his cock, showing you he no longer cared about who could hear him, if they even could.
Unable to keep his hands to himself at this point, he brought one down to grip the side of your hip, while the other trailed up to cup your breast. He rubbed the hardened bud, making your hand fasten its pace on his cock. “Wan’ you” He looked up at you with glossy eyes, never breaking eye contact as he leaned down to latch his wet tongue onto your nipple, swirling his wet tongue around your soft skin.
You sucked air through your teeth at the sensation, bringing your free hand to run your fingers through his wavy locks while you stared in admiration at the state you had him in. So compliant and malleable under you, ready to pleasure you at any moment yet so needy for the bliss of his own. “Just like that Gukkie..”
A combination of your moans and the sound of your hand tugging on his cock filled the room as he progressively began to leak more, a sign that he would come soon. His breaths became arrhythmic while his chest pressed flush against yours, hearing him become more vocal by the second.  
As much as you’d like to watch him whine around your tits while he came undone beneath you, your core was aching for his thick cock to fill you up. “Uh uh,” you tutted, ripping your hand away from him and chuckling at his protesting mewls, “Inside” You caught his lips in your mouth, slowly using your hand to guide his cock. You hovered above him, allowing your arousal to drip down his shaft. “Ride me, y/n, p-please” He choked out, not needing to say more before you sharply sunk down on his cock. 
He felt his breath hitch in his throat and limbs turn into jelly as his cock entered your plush walls, growing slightly dizzy at the feel of your immense wetness coating his shaft. Due to contrary belief, he wasn’t too much of a ladies man. Being too immersed in his studies and sports, he only had time for a casual hookup every once in a while. Despite his lack of exposure to women, he swore that it couldn’t get better than you. The way you so pleasantly sucked his cock into your tight pussy had him seeing stars, leaving him an incoherent mess of babbles underneath you.
As for you, the stretch his girthy cock had offered you was unmatched. The position you were in had his tip grazing your G-spot every time you bounced on his length. You had set a gentle pace, not wanting to make Jeongguk cum before you could do it together. Your stomach was already feeling hot and tight for sure, but at the same time, you wanted to see how much Jeongguk could take. 
At this point, he wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer before he suddenly bucked his hips up, earning a moan-gasp mixed with both pleasure and surprise. “Can’t s-stop.” He feverishly moved against you, causing your hands to land on his shoulders for balance purposes.
The headboard rocked against the wall while you attempted to sputter a “Keep going, be a good boy and make me cum” as his cock continue to drill into your insides. “Feel so good” He cried out, screwing his eyes shut as he felt his seed eager to spill into you. “L-love your pussy.. Love how you feel a-around me, could do this for hours” He whimpered, fucked so out of his mind that the only thing he could think of was your cunt and nothing else. “Yea?” you breathed out, “Gonna make me cum around your cock?” You asked.
“F-fuck mhmm, gonna-” He threw his head back, unable to even keep talking. “Look at you baby, can’t even form a sentence. Do your friends know what a whore you are in bed?” You grabbed his chin to raise his face to yours, “Cum with me.” And with that, he was pumping his load deep into your pussy while it mixed with your own essence, making the fluids messily run down his balls and thighs.
It still wasn’t enough for him to halt his movements, feeling like he couldn’t get enough of you. Even through stuttering hips, he continued to pound his cock into your sensitive cunt. It wasn’t until you tapped his bicep to let him know that the pleasure was fading into pain, that he finally came back to his senses and slowed his thrusts until coming to a full stop.
You let your weak body fall on top of his, feeling his big arms wrap around you while he gently pulled out his cock. The two of you took your time to come down from your highs, needing to catch your breath for a minute. He was still feeling the aftershocks of overstimulating himself while trying to recover from the trance you had put him under. Your fingers soothingly rubbed circles on his skin, whispering a light “You okay?” against him. He hummed in response and held you tighter, before feeling your body vibrate on top of him as you broke out in giggles.
“What?” He smiled, watching you lift up your head to face him. “Nothing, just didn’t expect you to go all pussy-drunk on me” You leaned down to kiss his rosy-tinted cheeks. “What can I say, takes a special one to unlock that side of me.” He grinned, showing his bunny teeth even after you had wrecked him. “How flattering.” You leaned back down to lay your head on his chest, wanting to spend some time with him before the night ended.
Even if the two of you knew this wouldn’t be the last of it.
A/N: wake up babe cherigu posted
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moremaybank · 1 year
Note
jj obnoxiously moaning whenever his girl touches him anywhere
mostly fluffy but there is a smidge of smut
(sfw)
If there were ever some tragically down bad for his girl, and I mean tragically, it would be JJ Maybank.
The man actually purrs whenever you touch him. running your hands through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. Caressing his cheek with your thumb soothingly and watching him close his eyes. Gliding your hand down his chest mindlessly when you're kissing him or simply just talking to him. The sounds that emit from his lips are pornographic even when the touches are innocent.
He'll come home from a long day, finding you in bed all cozy in the covers. You smell so good, the remnants of your shower gel and lotion leaving sweet hints on your skin.
"Hi, baby," you greet, your eyes moving onto his slouched and exhausted-looking frame.
"Mmph," he muffles as he slumps onto your body. His arms wrap around your waist as he smushes his head between your pillowy tits and snuggles into you.
"Long day?" you question, though you already know the answer. Your hands run up his clothed back into his hair, and you gently tug on the strands. He lets out a content sigh when you start to scratch his scalp lightly, trying to soothe him. Bonus points if you rake your nails down his back; one would think you're giving him the sloppiest head of his life due to the sounds emitting from his mouth.
Every time you kiss him, he moans into it, loving the feeling of your silky lips brushing against his. He can't help but slip his tongue into your mouth, craving the taste of you more than anything he's ever wanted for. When you pull away, he whines, instantly chasing your lips for another kiss with his big puppy-dog eyes. You can't help but give him one more because the needy look on his face is just too adorable to deny.
It doesn't matter if you're alone either. He isn't shy.
For instance, you're in the twinkie with the pogues, and everyone's minding their own business engaging in conversation. JJ's in his own world, scrolling on his phone. You smile, leaning over and rubbing his back. You press a kiss on his shoulder, and with the snap of your finger, he's melting into you. He makes a scene of it, too.
"Mmm, baby, you feel so good," he mewls while throwing his head back, melting into your touch. The group just groans and rolls their eyes, and JJ revels in it with a smirk on his face.
(nsfw)
It's so easy to turn him into a needy mess because the switch in him instantly comes alive at your touch. He loves being the one in control, but whenever the roles are reversed, he's begging for you to touch him.
Even something as small as your hand trailing up his thigh causes butterflies to erupt in his stomach. He feels your fingertips creeping closer and closer, and before he knows it, they're grazing against his covered and already-hard cock. His breath hitches when you palm him over his shorts, and he bucks his hips into you, craving more friction. He moans into your mouth and mumbles a desperate "stop teasing, baby," against your lips. He's already a goner, and he's still fully clothed.
Your hand draws his cock out from his shorts, and you stroke him torturously slow. Watching him squirm beneath your touch as his hips jut and thrust into your fist while he begs you to let him cum sends a thrill through you.
One thing's for sure; knowing that JJ loves you and your comforting, teasing touch more than anything in the world never gets old. And you love him and his just the same.
this is so long i'm so sorry
concepts
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yesihaveaobsession · 4 months
Text
ᄃΛЯVΣD
Alastor x female reader
Summary: The reader (you) souled your soul to the one and only Radio Demon, you were also his pretty little pet that he has to claim. So, what does he do? He carves into you.
A/N- I'm back! I had writers block and have been super busy so sorry about that, but I FINALLY found something to write so I hope y'all enjoy :D
Also, sorry if this sucks!!
WARNINGS: BLOOD, CUTTING, AND LANGUAGE
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You found yourself in quite a predicament. Tied and trapped on a makeshift bed by tentacles, you remembered how you sold your soul to Alastor when you first arrived in Hell. Let's just say it wasn't your best decision. Why? You were young and pretty, part of the reason Alastor picked you as his next target. He promised to protect you and help with your needs, but instead, it felt like the roles were reversed.
Pinned down to the makeshift bed, the lights were dim, with only the lit fireplace serving as the main source of illumination. The Radio Demon stood by the flames, holding a knife over them. His back was turned to you, one hand resting behind him.
"I regret selling my soul to you," you said. He paused, lifting the knife, and when he turned back to you, his smile was even more sinister in the flickering firelight.
Alastor looked at the knife, seeing his smiling reflection, then back at you. "Aw, but darling, my end of the bargain was far sweeter. I get to do with you as I please." The demon examined the knife, ensuring it was hot enough. You thought he was joking, as he often did about this type of torture, but in that moment, you realized he was serious.
"Please, don't do this," you pleaded, half-heartedly. He brought the glowing blade close to your face.
"Now, dear, there's no use begging me. I'm simply taking the payment I'm due. You agreed to pay the consequences, no matter how big. Isn’t that right, my dear?"
"But you never said anything like—" you began, but he cut you off by leaning in close and placing the hot blade on your sternum, making you feel the heat on your chest.
"And that’s the best part, isn’t it? You agreed to my bargain without knowing exactly what you were signing up for," Alastor smiled. You weren’t one to give up, so you tried struggling against the tentacles, but they only tightened, keeping you pinned on your stomach with your face toward him.
Alastor took the opportunity to move even closer, pinning your arms with his elbows. Your eyes avoided him, so the Radio Demon placed his hand under your jaw, forcing you to look into his mischievous red eyes.
"Dear, you do know I am letting wretched people know who you belong to, right?"
"Fuck you," you gritted, which only pleased him more. He let out a deep, sinister laugh that sent cold shivers down your spine, gripping your jaw tighter.
"Now, now, darling, that’s not very nice, is it?"
"I'll tell everyone, I'll tell Charlie how you're only using the hotel to—" Maybe threatening him would work, and suddenly, you felt some confidence return, but it soon vanished when his grip tightened, claws digging into your flesh. His smile grew wider, and his eyes darkened in the dim light.
"I suggest you choose your next words carefully. I am being as nice as I possibly can, and this is quite frankly my favorite time we’ve spent together so far. But there is nothing stopping me from using the knife. Now, what was that you were saying, sweetheart?"
"Nothing," you whispered, your eyes drifting away.
"That's what I thought, dear." He finally loosened his hold on your jaw and walked behind you, resuming his task.
"Please don't do this."
Alastor began tracing the still warm blade along your back, not even leaving a mark. You could feel the heat radiate against your skin. Although it barely grazed you, it was still hot as hell, making you wince. He continued tracing the blade slowly and lightly up your back, eventually reaching the base of your bra strap. He used the tip to fiddle with the strap while waiting for a response from you.
"Wait! Please."
The Deer Demon continued, clearly indifferent to your begging and pleading. The blade soon grazed your spine softly and slowly. He then leaned over to your ear, his smile never leaving his face.
"Yes, darling?"
"I-I don't want this," your voice breaking slightly. You were terrified, rightfully so. He wasn’t done toying with you, though. You felt the blade travel to a scar on your shoulder from when you were alive. He traced it with the tip of the knife.
"Please," you started to cry. You couldn't see him; you could only feel what he was doing and hear the faint jazz music filling the room, competing with his happy humming. Suddenly, everything stopped. His humming, the jazz, the knife on your scar—all ceased for a moment before resuming. The tip rested on your shoulder.
"You see this scar you have here, darling?" Your heart sank, and you started to squirm again. That's when he began to cut into your shoulder, blood seeping onto the knife.
"How did you get this one?" he asked curiously. You let out a high-pitched scream as sharp pain shot through your whole body, numbing you. It felt like falling through a rabbit hole into another world, but it was all too real. Alastor started carving the letter "A" into your shoulder. Your screams and cries didn't seem to bother him; in fact, he enjoyed it. Once satisfied with his work, he walked in front of you, getting in your face again. You were panting, your eyes now hooded. He brought the tip of the knife close to your face.
"You see this? This is who you belong to, my dear. This is why you are mine. Understand?"
You didn’t answer right away, and he didn’t like that. Slowly, he traced the knife along your cheek, moving it to your temple and resting it on the sensitive skin there, waiting for a response. When you still didn’t answer, he applied more pressure, making you wince.
"I—"
"I can't quite hear you." The knife began to dig into your temple, not hard but enough to hurt.
"I belong to you."
Satisfied once more, a sly smile crept across his face upon hearing your words. Alastor removed the blade from your temple, leaving a thin cut. You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes. Smiling, he placed the knife over your heart. You were exhausted, and he knew it. It might have been only a few minutes, but it felt like hours.
"And don't you forget it. Understand?"
You gulped and looked into his red eyes, managing to squeak out a response, "I understand."
Alastor removed the bloody knife and kissed your head. "Good girl." He smiled, wiped the knife off, and the tentacles undid themselves, disappearing back into him. He left you on the floor.
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stellari-s · 4 months
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Omfg ithaqua centric tumblrs exist/j
I don't know I'd your still doing requests but can I request ithaqua with a reader who's rlly sweet and nice and everything, but the manor did like a swap with the survivors and hunters so that the hunters are the ones that run from the survivors and when Reader is picked they go NUTS. Like everyone's out and injured in like 2 minutes. After the event reader goes back to normal but if people look closely, Reader's picked up a bit of a hunger for blood sometimes...
haha, ikr, and gosh, i’m really slow, i hope you’ll forgive me! but i will try my best with your request! i don’t end up describing the details of the match much rather than implying what happened, so i hope that’s ok.
request; yes, by anon! requests are currently closed, but my commissions are open if you’re interested.
wc; 945.
tags; default! ithaqua, gn! survivor! reader (who becomes hunter), reader treats ithaqua’s injuries.
summary; miss nightingale had come with a sudden announcement — survivors and hunters were going to switch places! and so, you are put into a match with ithaqua as the last one standing…
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this very day was like a fever dream — but would it be a dream if one could see a subtle, yet irreversible change?
“a switch?”
ithaqua stayed silent, but he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. though he said little, his feelings reflected that of everyone else’s in the room where miss nightingale had gathered all the hunters on a whim to make the very announcement of a role switch. he honestly harbored mixed feelings on the prospect of being the one chased, rather than the one doing the chasing, but more than that...
he thought back to a certain face among the survivors. a seemingly innocent face, whose kindness knew no bounds. would they be up for the task, he wondered?
robbie’s enthusiastic voice dragged ithaqua from his thoughts back into reality.
“oh oh, does this mean we get to play something like reverse tag?”
“seems like it,” ithaqua muttered in reply.
miss nightingale nodded once everyone had settled down (or, displayed some semblance of having settled down). “i’m glad we are on the same page. gather in lakeside in one hour if you are called upon, and take care not to be late.”
when miss nightingale left, murmurs immediately broke out among the hunters.
...there really is something off with her. i don’t like it.
nonetheless, ithaqua had no right to refuse; he could only sigh and wait for an hour to pass.
“survivors will become the hunters?”
this was news to you. what in the world could have brought on this change in the manor owner’s heart?
...not that you could really understand him. in fact, many things in the manor had been intriguing.
little things piqued your interest, and whispered rumors became a source of curiosity.
“i’m not sure i feel comfortable facing against hunters... as a hunter,” helena said, “wouldn’t you agree, (y/n)?”
“hm?” you looked at helena, who had a resigned smile on her lips.
i suppose it would be difficult for her, considering she can’t see. then again, she has a cane, so maybe she’s fine, and her personality is just too kind?
some survivors were fit to be a hunter, but helena was not one of them. it wasn’t a bad thing; it simply wasn’t her strength.
you flashed her a gentle smile of your own. “it is definitely a sudden development. i can understand the difficulty in processing it.”
you neither confirmed nor denied it.
—— 20 minutes later.
there was only one hunter left now: ithaqua.
you had noticed this in previous matches against him when he was hunter, but even with those stilts that looked so easy to trip in, ithaqua was very quick on his feet. there was clearly a lot of skill in maneuvering around with those.
you would spot him, and you would chase after him, only for him to slip between your fingers like locks of hair.
while his appearance resembled that of a supernatural creature to be feared, you found through spending time with him outside of matches that he was not a bad person. in fact, he was quite nice behind that colder facade.
if it were other survivors, they would probably be more cautious around ithaqua.
finally, you caught up to him in the small boat in lakeside village. “you’re the only one left standing, ithaqua,” you said, “yet you won’t surrender. do you think two hours will pass before i can catch you?”
ithaqua chuckled. “i’ll take your words as a compliment.”
“as they are meant to be. but i think two hours is quite a long time, so will you allow me to catch you before then?”
“if you’re going to catch me, do it with your own abilities.”
you shrugged, a resigned smile playing on your lips. “i suppose it can’t be helped then.”
it turned out you didn’t need him to “allow” you.
after the match, which had lasted around half an hour total, ithaqua hissed a little in pain as you wrapped the bandage around his arm, where he had cut himself.
“would it hurt to be a little more gentle treating my wound?”
“oh, don’t you know? it’s better to wrap the gauze more tightly. i do sincerely apologize for the... slightly rough handling toward the end of the match though. so please just think of this as repayment.”
ithaqua fell silent. this was one of the rare times he had his mask off, so you could see his eyes narrowed, his brows furrowed, and his lips pursed as he averted his pale blue eyes.
“what’s wrong?” you waved a hand in front of him.
“i don’t know. but is it just me or do you just look... a little different?”
“hm?”
he turned to look at you for a brief moment before retracting his arm. “it’s nothing. thanks for treating my arm.”
ithaqua stood up and tried to walk out of the room, but you called after him as his hand made contact with the knob.
“hey, ithaqua.”
he stood in frozen in place like a statue, as if contemplating whether or not he should turn out. in the end, he stayed still as he replied, “what?”
though he wouldn’t be able to see it, you flashed a smile his way.
“i look forward to the next match.”
you could have sworn you saw his shoulders twitch slightly upon hearing your words. he then turned around (to your surprise) and, with a sharp tone, shouted “well i don’t!” before shutting the door behind him.
you couldn’t help but let out a lighthearted laugh — he kind of reminded you of a cat.
a cat surely worth chasing, you reckoned.
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goyurim · 5 days
Text
“even though im here?” “yes.”
“even when i told you how i felt?” “yes.”
seok ryu's rejection sounds so harsh but it makes perfect sense given how much she thinks loving her is conditional. given the way her parents have always treated her, she's grown up to believe that she cannot allow herself to be a burden, only someone who'll carry burdens for the people in her life. she carries on this belief into her workplace, to the point that people use and abuse her - she only realises she cannot take it anymore when her fiancé's own mental health starts getting negatively impacted by her health issues, which are something completely out of her control.
she says she doesn't need love anymore when she rejects hyeon jun's second attempt at proposing bc she's finally realised that that's what a huge part of love is - being a burden on someone - and she knows hyeon jun is not the type of person who's ready to be on the receiving end of that kind of love right now. what she hasn't realised yet is that not everyone is hyeon jun. or her parents. or her coworkers. but when everyone in your life reaffirms your false beliefs, well, you tend to get biased.
seok ryu's always been there for seung hyo at his lowest. she's always been there for moral support when he had no one else. when she tells seung hyo's coworkers that she practically raised him, it's part bragging, but it's also true from her perspective, she offered him unconditional love like a parent would (like his own parents should have), without ever expecting anything in return. she did it out of the goodness of her heart, bc that's just who she is, that's who she's always been.
but somewhere along the way she convinced herself that that's all she could ever be to him, someone he could rely on. bc he deserves that, to be loved in a way that he could be a burden on her. that's why she refuses his love for her, she even literally calls it imprinting. bc if she didn't offer all that support to him, would he still like her? if the roles were reversed, would seung hyo ever pull seok ryu out of rock bottom? given his quiet and reserved nature? probably not.
but that's not true! at least not anymore! as seung hyo keeps insisting, they're not kids anymore. they're equals now. we see time and time again how attentive seung hyo is to seok ryu's needs, in his own quiet way, how he's always there for her, at arm's length in case she wants to reach out. he knows she's strong and masks her pain with humour, and doesn't like to be seen when she's struggling, so he doesn't offer her his shoulder to cry on. instead, he sits next to her, walks behind her, tries to reach out to her parents and work out issues with them without her knowledge. he's not imprinting on her anymore, he actively takes care of her.
when seung hyo says he loves seok ryu, he loves her in every way she deserves to be loved. she can be both the person who feels fulfilled by carrying people on her back, and also the one who wants to be carried when she gets tired. she can be strong and weak and emotional and mean and angry and sweet and kind and ambitious and funny and loud and quiet and everything she wants to be. he's seen every side of her and he loves every part of it equally.
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xlpoww · 1 year
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LOVE
what is
Anonymous asked: okay okay i just read your sanji imagines and maybe make a part where the roles are reversed? like the reader gets flirted on by someone else and she flirts back and sanji doesn’t understand why he feels jealous all of a sudden? part one and two can be found here: SOUR GUTS
this one goes out to my lovely friend @honnelander <3 i adore you!! thank you for being my biggest supporter<3 you don't know this but you inspired me to begin writing again!! so thank you.
warnings: none!
word count: 930
opla! sanji x f! reader
you were fuming, why wouldn’t you be? zoro had instigated an argument with sanji that turned into a full fledged fight.
and it was about you
there were a million thoughts racing through your head, but the biggest one hurt you the most. you’d upset him? your best friend? how could someone as insignificant as you have the power to upset sanji vinsmoke so deeply? he had women falling at his feet, the gorgeous man. the biggest flirt in all the seas was hung up over, you?
that man that you’d left with last night, he didn't matter to you at all really. he was sweet and funny, but he wasn’t him. would sanji feel a bit lighter if he knew you couldn’t even remember that guy's name? no, that might make it worse, wouldn’t it.
you don’t know where to go from here, sitting on the deck left alone with your thoughts. after the  blow up fight in the kitchen, you’d chewed zoro out to hell and back. so much so it even felt like he felt some remorse, but you figured it was a trick of the light. if he had truly cared about the cook’s feelings, he wouldn't have pushed him so far. he wouldn't have exposed him like that, made him so vulnerable without a choice in the matter.
how would you feel if your heart was left so defenseless by someone else’s words? if you had no say in the matter of confessing your feelings?
you take a deep sigh, leaning back onto your hands. your head falls back as you look to the sky. not a cloud in sight, it felt wrong for a sight so beautiful to appear on such a gloomy day. 
so deep in thought, you fail to notice the sound of footsteps walking towards you. the man stops silently besides you, hands in his pockets. from one of them he pulls a cigarette, a lighter from the other. still, not a word leaves his lips as he begins to light it, only the sound of the lighter catching your attention. with wide eyes you turn to your right and see sanji, tagging a long drag of his cigarette. he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye.
“hey y/n” his voice was devoid of the usual flirtiness, it sent a pang through your heart.
“hey sanj, how are you doing?”  you angle more of your body towards him, speaking softly. the conversation felt so delicate. he blows out the smoke from his cigarette before responding.
“could be better darling, that wasn’t how i wanted you to find out about my feelings.” his words are paired with dry laughter, and he’s avoiding your eyes.
“so it’s true? you’re in love with me?” your hand has come up to grasp your other arm, your eyes finding their way to the ocean as you speak.
“since the moment i laid eyes on you, back on the baratie.” his words sound like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. “you sitting there at the table with the rest of our lovable group- you’d looked scared to order the wine, like was going to rat you out to the marines or something!” he’s laughs, the sound warming your heart.
“i had never sat down at such a fancy restaurant!” you defend yourself with a huff, continuing on exasperatedly, “anyways. that can’t be true, you were just as flirty with nami back then- you couldn’t have liked us both could you?” you turn to face him once again, your eyes frantically searching his own. how could you have missed this, how could everyone in the world have known but you?
“something about you, it just stuck with me. i don’t know how to explain it y/n, but ever since you came into my life, i haven’t gone a day without thinking of you.” he takes a moment to take another drag, the smoke falling from his mouth as he continues on. “all those other girls, they never really meant anything. i was just hoping to be distracted from you, though it never worked. no matter who i talked to, it was always you who held my heart captive.” there’s a bitter sweet tone to his words, yet they’re elegant and thoughtful all the same.
“sanji, i- don't really know what to say. i can’t believe i didnt notice-” you’re scrambling to find the right words when he cuts you off with a smile.
“no-no it’s fine, you don’t have to return my feelings or anything love.” he dropped the cigarette, leaning towards you slowly. it’s like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. when you don’t he gets closer, bringing his hand to rest softly on your cheek. the light touch causes a burning blush, and you smile softly at the man sitting in front of you so bravely. “i just wanted you to hear it from my lips. i love you, y/n.”
you want to say more, but when you open your mouth he shakes his head softly, and you close it. there are a million combinations of words, yet no one feels right at this moment. with the way sanji is looking at you, it feels right to stay quiet. to sit in the silence, next to a man that loves you with his whole heart. 
and when you close your eyes, leaning into his soft gentle touch, a smile graces your lips, only one thought on your mind.
‘i think i could begin to love you too.’
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