#what is it about them that’s so perplexing and attractive to someone

[katyahina]

So, this is what I understood about Midra Mansion and Frenzied Flame business (in chronological order)

It is more like a reference so I don't forget, just piecing the story together since I am sure I found all helpful items yet! Add please if there is something else!

1) So, it started with how for one reason or another, Midra and people in this place attracted paranoia (?) of the hornsent and were done dirty by inquisitors! Not specified whether they actually done something bad or not!

The entrance in this location is guarded by Elder Inquisitor Jori, that also summons ungodly amount of fellow clerics what in the actual Deacons of the Deep was that fdhfdhs

^ This item is dropped by an NPC Maddening Hand, and this IS my reason to think that rather than everyone here being punished for potentially messing with Frenzied Flame, they were accused and hunted for something else and affiliation with FF came because of that resentment!

^ This dialogue perplexed me at first, as I initially thought it related to inquisitors coming in the Manse after the FF events, but by now I concluded it more likely related to the era where they were hunted as heretics for no particular reason! Because people of the Manse should have known what in another case:

2) The contact with Frienzied Flame happened and effected the people and the place in general. Like I said before, Frenzied Flame started to manifest upon yearning of Midra/his people for revenge. He might have even been directly contacted by the Three Fingers in a similar manner as how Marika was contacted by the Two Fingers for her situation, as suggested by an item found in this map:

Besides, the whole Manse was destroyed but especially the books, and we will get to it later but evidently it was done to hide the knowledge about Frenzied Flame accumulated:

3) A child of Midra and Nanaya likely was lost to a failed attempt of becoming Lord of Frenzied Flame! Nanaya is depicted holding her hand on her belly on the portrait, perhaps being pregnant, and the torch you pick from her corpse is said to be gently 'cradled' by her! I need to see Japanese script to confirm or deny how accurate the word 'cradling' is here since it does have connotation with caring for the baby, so put a pin on it! However, feeling of affection from her alone might make this nitpick less relevant.

These 'evidences' that it was their child do not look very strong, I admit this much, as well as calling it 'distant' land is odd. I think it still works; for example, distant from the standpoint of the world map in general since it is very well hidden!

^ We pick this item from the corpse of Nanaya herself. Her eyes are obscured on the portrait and yet that looks to be an artistic decision. Her corpse, on the other hand, has eyes covered with bandages! We can assume that she went blind from spending too much time holding onto this "torch", as well as that prolonged exposure to FF was what killed her in the end. Why cling onto this spinal column so much, if not because it belonged to someone dear for her?

I suppose it is up to interpretation whether Nanaya approved of the idea of the Lord of the Frenzied Flame as their kid and only lost courage when the plan failed and availed them nothing, or she didn't know Midra would let their son of all people to go through such a risk and father and son acted behind her back (maybe not they alone), or she straight up disapproved of Frenzied Flame moods and called inquisitors for """help""" herself to at the very least isolate the madness! So, speaking of:

4) Inquisitors learn about Frenzied Flame business here, those who were helping with the Frenzied Flame meddling were executed, Nanaya is spared for either reason.

I didn't understand it instantly, but yes, the implication of the neat row of beheaded guys right at the entrance with their wrists tied is that they were executed:

The glowing 'stick' in their necks does give me an impression of their barbs, however they do not stick out at the sides?

So, the Hornsent inquisitors did this to him, but as we learn from Midra no longer being able to take it and pulling the barb out of himself this is not a fact that they've done it specifically to seal the Frenzied Flame! Because why would they leave him like this despite the risk that he could choose to pull the barb out one day? They might not have known that Midra caught Frenzied Flame to this extent and just believed in giving specific form of punishment to the leader of the dangerous people! ...right?

^ Wrong! @val-of-the-north shared this icon for an item that exists in the game files but was not implemented in the end, on which Midra's had both has the same eye as Tarnished has after being grasped by the Three Fingers and has obvious trace of their grab not unlike Vyke's armour! This gives me a feeling that the Inquisitors had enough information to conclude something wasn't right. So, maybe they decied that they killed him and were not aware that FF would not let him die now?

OR MAYBE Nanaya is the key here! If she was fully affiliated with Midra and servants on FF plot, why she never got executed? She might have successfully lied to them about not having been aware to still seize some control, or she genuinely disapproved of all this and wanted it to stop. Thus, in case if the inquisitors knew of Midra's situation, maybe they also trusted her to control him from breaking free.

^ This suggests that Nanaya knew of what danger he held within prior the inquisitors did their thing! Since he was also willingly holding onto her demand for such a long time, maybe he himself realised the ramifications by then, especially if their son was lost like this. This gives me an impression that they both agreed it all went too far and decided to call for "help", whether Nanaya was a part of the plan all along too or simply was able to collect herself when Midra confessed her everything, dragging their son into it included, and understood they had bigger problem to worry about now!

^ This makes me feel like "weakness" it refers to was actually his reluctance and fear upon realising what he messed with, rather than actual failure! I don't know about you guys, but I found him a pretty functional Lord of Frenzied Flame during the battle 🤔 But if he contracted the 'Lord', how his head was still in place when inquisitors arrived for his ass? So likely he was able to keep it in before, to "endure" like Nanaya said earlier, when NOT "failing" would entail "understanding" and embracing the motivations and the meaning of FF. (Melina looks with a massive judgement)

However, pulling out that barb also entailed succumbing to the Frenzied Flame, which now made him no longer "fail" at it.

5) Inquisitors remain to patrol the perma-damaged land getting afflicted with FF themselves so no curious idiots wander here, Nanaya and other spared (?) people die from old age.

(sorry for phone picture, I forgot to copy this one to USB fhdhdsf) Even if Lord of Frenzied Flame was prevented, the impact of the contact with the Three Fingers (?) was permanent now. There was no way to destroy it (how do you destroy THE desctruction?), only keep it secluded.

^ I mentioned how Nanaya oddly was spared, but what about this person? Either not she alone and this guy might have died from old age or something, OR these are the words from the time before inquisitors arrived here. Because, again, we have evidence that Midra and Nanaya knew he contracted Frenzied Flame even before that, from the description of his remembrance!

^ This, all things considered, refers to the time the Hornsent arrived here to execute, punish and set up the patrol, as they discovered what happened!

__________________

So, yeah.. It is a really messed up story. I have enough pointers towards how the family, ironically, had to accept "help" from THE very folks who harassed them to the point of events that attracted the Frenzied Flame to begin with! Even if they are probably/likely descendants or a branch-off from the hornsent that originally were hunting them as heretics. Like realising that no amount of torture and mistreatment of their people must doom the whole world to burn, yet it would happen if Frenzied Flame broke loose from here.

[sorrowfulwill]

Yknow by statistics Theres atleast one person who likes feet in the reverse falls community

I think about that a lot

[nattousan]

i love people's willingness to get hype over dumb shit.

I was driving home today and pull up to a light. As i'm slowing down i 👁️👁️ lock 👁️👁️ eyes with the dude in the car next to me. I spring into action, this is the moment I've been waiting for.

Now, something you must know about me is I drive around with several small plastic 🦀crabs 🦀 on my dashboard, One: for the whimsy of it all and two: on the off chance i encounter another driver who i think could benefit from witnessing them.

This young gentleman was one such someone.

As i pull up, as previously stated, our eyes lock and I hold up one☝️ finger☝️

Perplexed by my unprompted gesticulation, the young man rolls down his window, "what the devil could this perfect stranger be about to tell me?" he might have been thinking.

I present a singular dashboard crab, green and brown, homely but not without its charm.

I study his reaction, grinning encouragingly. He's nodding, obviously intrigued by my plasticine crustacean.

I wag my finger and shake my head, removing the crab from view. Confusion again, but he leans forward, invested. I have him now.

I grab my second dashboard crab, a rotund white and brown crab, easily the most beautiful of my crabs as it sports large discernible claws of an attractive size and silhouette.

✌️ TWO ✌️ i tell him.

He's cheering now, and rightly so, as these are delightful little beasts that anyone would be happy to encounter. But now comes the clincher, time to seal the deal.

My finger wags once more. He's awestruck, I have him completely enraptured. If a car had come and smeared us both into the pavement we would not have noticed, so wrapped up in my display were we.

I bring out my showstopper: a bright pink spider crab with delicately long legs the likes of which had never before nor since been seen in mid afternoon traffic.

As emphatically as i can express, I display all three of my dashboard crabs to this man, three fingers pressed triumphantly to the glass.

the guy is losing it in his car, mouth wide in what i assume to be a primal shout of crab derived excitement. His arms are pumping so vigorously its shaking his stationary vehicle.

We sit there, sharing in a moment of mutual jubilation, and then the light changes, and we move forward in line. He drives off, honking his horn in rapturous exultation,

and we part ways, exactly the same perhaps but changed nonetheless.

🦀

[melancholyhigh]

CRUSH CULTURE.

ft. college au!leon x reader

synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.

tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).

note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)

masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3

You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.

You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.

You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.

It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.

You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.

Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.

You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.

Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.

You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.

That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.

–-

“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.

“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.

You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.

“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.

“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.

“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.

“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”

“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.

He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.

“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.

“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.

“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.

He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”

You shake your head no in response.

“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.

“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.

He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.

You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”

Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.

Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.

“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.

He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.

Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.

“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.

You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.

You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.

You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.

His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.

You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.

Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.

When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.

Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.

You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.

You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.

You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.

He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.

“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.

“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.

“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.

“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.

“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.

“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.

“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.

“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.

Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.

“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.

“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.

Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.

“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”

It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.

“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.

“It took fucking me to find that out?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Glasses | Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Spencer shows up in new glasses and it awakens some new feelings for your fellow BAU agent. 

A/N: I wrote this a month ago procrastinating studying for my exam 4 on Tuesday after I saw this GIF and finally finished it tonight. so here it is - hope you enjoy! this is NOT proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.  

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

**Aye Warning: this is PG 13 - little raunchy at the end * 

You and your fellow agents sat around the round table in the conference room. A new case had come to light, JJ gathering you all before you even had time to sit down at your desk. Fresh coffee sat in front of you and just the smell brought comfort. You glanced around the table, missing one of your agents. Spencer. Usually he beat you to work every morning, reprimanding and teasing you about it. 

“If you’d drink the coffee here instead of stopping every morning on your way to work, you’d actually be on time and beat me here.” Spencer teases following you through the glass double doors. He was in his usual work attire - slacks and a button up. His hair a curly mess. His messenger bag hung over his shoulder. 

You turned around to face him, walking backwards a few steps and made a face, mocking him, “I’m not drinking that tap water you all call coffee.” You saluted your coffee cup toward him, “I will always be late for a nice, fresh cup of coffee.” 

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, sipping on your coffee and flipping open the case file JJ tossed in front of you. 

She took a moment to glance around the room, perplexed Spencer wasn’t here yet. “I actually don’t know.” She peeked out the window overlooking the rest of the office, “Usually he beats you here.”

JJ went on with the meeting, turning on the TV screen to show pictures of the crime scene and now the next missing and possible victim. 

“Sorry I’m late-” Spencer says, out of breath as he enters the room in a rush. “I had an appointment and it ran later than expected -” He tosses his bag on the ground with a thud, sitting down and oblivious to the surprised looks from his fellow agents. 

Glasses. Spencer was wearing glasses. Your jaw dropped at this new sight, the pen you were chewing on, hanging against your lips. You wouldn’t disagree, Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. I mean you’d admitted that multiple times, but he was also your coworker. A relationship with a coworker could create a rocky atmosphere for the BAU.

He always been an eye candy to look at, however, this new look tossed you over the edge, changing something inside you. You needed him. His touch, his lips against yours. You were overwhelmed with such affection and adoration. Where was this coming from? Immediately your mind went dirty, your face flushed with embarrassment at having those thoughts, scared someone else could hear them. 

Spencer met your eyes from across the table, a new twinkle in his eye, “What did I miss?” He’d noticed the effect he had on you, he could read you like a book. 

You couldn’t even look him the eye. God what was this man doing to you. A wave of warmth was felt through your body; spreading to your core as new fantasies come to light. A dark mahogany desk... Spencer in a button up, loosening the tie around his neck. Oh god. You sat up quickly as if you were just touched by a hot poker and composed yourself, “JJ was just telling us about the last victims who were found-” Your eyes pleadingly glanced at JJ and the screen behind her. 

“Right anyways-” 

~ 

Everyone had settled into their seats on the jet and you stood, slipping behind the curtain to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. When you stood back up, you were met with Spencer’s chest, “Shit--Spencer.” 

“Did I scare you?” He smiles in triumph, “You’re so jumpy.” He tilted his head as he observed the change in you. 

You stepped out of the way as Spencer reached for mini fridge, fumbling for an excuse. “Watched a scary movie last night.” 

He hums in response turning to face you, the small countertop digging into your back as you tried to put enough space between you and Spencer. “Which movie?” He glances back over his shoulder, checking the curtain is closed. 

You glanced around him as well, wondering what he was looking for, but finally meeting his eyes, “oh you know.. I think it was scream?” 

He closes the space between the two of you, slipping his hands behind you and  placing them firmly on the countertop behind you. 

“Spencer!” A quiet gasp escaped your lips as his body pressed against yours. 

“Shhh...” He places his index against your lips as he leans in close, the smell of his aftershave and minty breath hitting you in a wave. His breath is hot against your neck as his lips dance along your neck. 

Your entire body submits to his touch. oh god. 

“Wouldn’t want them to know what we’ve been up to these last couple months, now would we?” 

Comments, likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! x 

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Criminal Minds tag list: @thelovelydreamer17​ , @la-vie-en-amour1 , @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 , @astra-inclinant-sed-non-obligant (possibly: @astra-x-inclinant)  , @bluerose512 , @lolychu​ , @varsityalthete

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[inkdrinkerworld]

Talk Too Much

Pairing: Remus Lupin x loud but shy!reader

Cw: college!au, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, obliviousness by Remus for a while, drinking (mentioned), smoking (cigarettes), I think that’s it

Wc: 2.2k

You’re a loudmouth. Through and through. Of all your friends, you honestly think you and James would be the ones to never shut up or run out of words.

That is until Remus transfers into the school and infiltrates your friend group and suddenly you find the words can run out.

It’s not on purpose.

It seems to take you over purely by coincidence- the way your throat gets dry and your tongue seems too heavy to form the words you want to get out when Remus seems to be paying attention to only you. His gaze isn’t unwelcome- that’s the entire problem.

You like the feeling of being what he looks at, but it feels too good, too natural.

His honey eyes that are just lightly flecked with green, and his sharp jawline that’s adorned with silvery scar tissue that somehow makes him even more handsome.

He’s also always got a cigarette to fiddle with.

You’ve only seen him smoke twice, and had been mesmerised by the way his cheeks hollow and how he blows the smoke out and it seems to curl around him like it’s unable to obey his exhales in the opposite direction.

He reminds you in a way of Charlie Dalton and Stephen Meeks.

Fctional characters who Remus seems to emulate in his confidence (from Charlie) and a sort of confidence that’s self-assured yet mild at the same time (a mix of the two) and that in itself makes you fall a little more for him.

It’s overwhelming- this attraction to him. It confuses you and has you tripping over words in your head, far less for if you voiced them and all that was heard were clunky excuses for sentences.

What makes your sudden bouts of silence obvious is the fact that your friends have caught onto you.

It’s not like it’s exceptionally hard to decipher either- you’re not really good at being subtle.

You suspect James and Sirius are taking bets on when it’ll all be too obvious for everyone to walk around it and you desperately hope that it takes months while simultaneously hoping it takes only weeks.

Remus notices the way your body freezes when you realise you’ve caught his attention in your storytelling. In his mind, it’s because you don’t like him.

The way you shrink down and suddenly go silent the moment his eyes set upon you, the way you remain quiet even though he sees the way the corners of your mouth twitch with something to say.

He thinks he’s put you off somehow, especially when the second he’s gone a little ways away to get a drink or get his lunch, you seem to perk right back up and dive into storytelling once more.

It bothers him so much he asks Sirius about it- a mistake in itself, because Sirius only pokes fun at his friend.

“If you can’t realise why she goes silent the moment you stare at her Lupin, I can’t help you.” Sirius walks off leaving Remus even more perplexed, moreso when he hears Sirius says, “How’s he so thick for someone doing so many higher classes?”

It bewilders Remus for weeks, your always sudden vows of silence and then your equally sudden broken vows.

You’re all at a house party when it comes to an almost end.

You’re dressed pretty like always, a skirt that hugs all the places Remus longs to touch and a top that shows a sliver of your stomach and Remus catches a glimpse of jewellery hanging in your navel.

Your ears have a pair of hanging bat earrings, and your necklace is your standard one- he’s sure he’s never seen you without it.

You’re smiling and laughing with Marlene and Mary as you walk in. Remus wants to figure out why you dislike him so, he desperately wants to change your sour opinion of him. He’s going to at least try to do so tonight, if you can stomach looking at him.

“C’mon losers,” James’ loud voice is unmistakable, “We’re playing seven minutes in heaven.”

Remus is only approaching when he hears your teasing,

“Are we taking a blast back to Year 9 Jamie?”

James nods, “Yeah we are, and would you look at that you and Lupin are up first.” You’re sure there’s an evil little grin on James’ face when you look up and find Remus standing there in his soft brown sweater and jeans.

You can smell a little of the cigarette he’d smoked before coming in, but mostly you smell his citrus, pepper and amber cologne.

It’s heady and you swear your brain gets a little drunk on it.

“Get going you two,” Sirius teases and you sigh standing.

Remus’ mind is reeling, wondering how he’s going to get back at Sirius and James and the rest of your friends that he knows are in on this too.

Out of ear shot of your friends as you both go to the nearest room, Remus says lowly, “You don’t have to come in. I’ll just tell them we talked.”

You look up at him, eyes wide and Remus takes your surprise as a moment to admire you up close. He counts three beauty marks near your right eye, another on your neck just under your chin, and one on your nose. He’s distracted by you for a good long while that he doesn’t register you’ve spoken till he sees you walk into the room and gesture for him to follow.

It’s tense, a silence neither of you are sure how to break.

You think Remus is the most gorgeous man to be placed on the Earth, and Remus thinks you find him repulsive.

You watch Remus climb onto the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles as his back presses against the headboard.

His casualness makes him look even more attractive and while you’re aware that you’re staring at him, you can’t make yourself stop.

‘Now or never,’ he thinks to himself before asking, “Have I offended you somehow?”

There it is, laid open and bare. The question hangs in the air, like the most tantalising yet foreign fruit you’ve ever seen.

“No?” It comes out like a question. One Remus takes as a chance to explain.

“It’s just that you’re always talking or telling a story with the others, and as soon as I’m near earshot you go silent and you can’t meet my eyes. So I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ve offended you, and I just wanted to say sorry for if I did- directly or indirectly.”

Remus’ attractiveness has been upped by a thousand- you’re sure all the love deities are having a laugh at your hopelessness.

You can’t meet his eyes now, even as you sit on the bed, so close to him that your biceps brush each other’s. “You haven’t offended me.”

Your voice is much softer than he’s ever heard it. Remus thinks this must be the softest you’ve ever spoken in your whole life.

“I haven’t?” he asks and you shake your head. Hazarding a glance at him, you find Remus leaning his shoulder down, his chin tucked as his eyes roam your frame.

“N-no,” your stutter gives you away slowly. “You’re just different from the others.” It’s not a clearer explanation, but the gears are turning in Remus’ head all the same and you can tell.

“Different how?” Remus doesn’t want to assume anything and that’s what causes the gears to come to a screeching halt.

You sigh, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. Remus has never seen you this unsure. Everything you do is with confidence and ease, like you were just made to walk, talk and move the way that you do. Like it was as easy as breathing.

Maybe it’s the way you take your time to consider your words, or the way you fiddle with your clothes or even the way your breathing changes as he leans just a bit closer that makes Remus smile a little.

“Will you look at me for a second, darling gwerthfawr?” The softness of his tone and the way his accent changes to something a little more melodic makes you more jelly-like than you usually are in his presence.

“Hm?” you hum and Remus smirks. Silvery slithers of scar tissue moving with his mouth and making him look wicked in a way that has you falling a little more in love with him.

“Why don’t you like looking or speaking to me?”

Remus doesn’t let you turn away, doesn’t let you tuck your cheek to your shoulder as you deliberate what you want to say. No, instead, the menace holds your chin and stares at you, holding your gaze and making your brain cloud even more as his cologne and attention wash over you.

“I like looking at you,” you admit shyly, the confession coming from your lips with hesitation. Like Remus will be repulsed by the fact that you like looking at him. “But you make me nervous.”

The words are suspended in the quiet of the room. All there is the muffled sounds of the party going on in the living room, and then yours and Remus’ breathing.

“I make you nervous?”

Sirius and James burst through the door, wide smiles that turn into shocked smirks at your positions.

“Well love birds, sorry but your seven minutes are up.” Remus staggers in letting your chin go, but when his fingers slacken, you leave the room, belly in knots in the almost wordy confession.

“So, how’d that go?” James asks him as you bend the corner- he’s sure that Lily and the other girls will be doing the same with you.

Remus flops on the bed, “Nothing that concerns you two gits.” His mind is racing with possibilities of finishing this conversation.

Sirius boos, “After all that planning to get you two in here and snogging each other’s faces off, that’s the thanks we get?” Walking out with James who’s shaking his head.

-

“But you make me nervous,” repeats in his head for days. He’s not dense by a mile, but Remus has a hard time figuring out what about him makes you nervous.

Sure he’s tall and a little serious, but he’s not as intimidating as he’d first thought Sirius was. Remus doesn’t want to turn to his friends, sure they’d tease him endlessly for being ‘thick,’ and then more than likely tell you and that would just make you even more nervous to look or speak to him at the very least.

What Remus does do, is consult the best person he knows that will give him impartial advice; books.

There’s always a book for any occasion, so he delves deep. Behavioural analysis books, books on people with social anxiety (which he doesn’t think you have because it’s just him that gets the selective mutism) and even at the end of it, he turns to romance novels. Something must stand out.

It comes to a head when Remus comes to the library when you’re busy typing away at your essay. You feel the presence, the warmth of his pepper and amber cologne as he pulls the seat out beside you.

Remus doesn’t say a word as he sits down. Instead, he pulls out his laptop and begins typing at the same essay prompt you’re working on.

You’re hyper aware of everything he’s doing- every breath, every sigh, every harsh backspace and enter.

Remus doesn’t seem to be half as affected as you are and it has you whispering, “What are you doing here, Remus?”

He hums, tapping his forefinger near the touchpad. He finishes his sentence and then turns to you. “Working on that essay due tomorrow.”

You frown, lips pulled downwards as you think of your next words. “You know what I mean, why are you sitting beside me?”

Remus sighs, head hanging off the back of the chair. “I want you to not be nervous around me anymore. I also want to know why I make you nervous.”

You swallow, mouth suddenly dry.

Remus turns to look at you and the amber lighting of the library makes his skin look sunkissed and supple. His honey and sage eyes blink owlishly at you, no sign of rushing you along for an answer.

That was something you had learnt while silently watching Remus. He’s always actually listening- not just listening to respond.

“Because,” you start, eyes darting all over his face in search of any insecurity in it. “You always seem so hyper focused on what it is I’m going to say next and it flusters me.”

Remus’ face morphs into a smile, his lazy expression from before melting away as his eyes warm to your embarrassed whisper.

“So it’s not dislike?” He asks, hands itching to tip your chin up like he had the other night.

“Are you going to make me say it out loud?”

“Poor girl,” he feels much more confident now. Now that he knows for sure that you don’t hate him and that you might actually like him as much as he likes you, he can be a little more flirty.

His hand reaches for your wrist, thumb running back and forth around your pulse.

You scowl, more than a little bashful to have exposed your feelings to Remus. He doesn’t mind.

No, Remus feels over the moon. Enough so that his hand moves from your wrist and his forefinger hooks under your chin so you’re making eye contact again.

“I like you too. Just as much,” it’s his turn for a whispered confession and you hope to all hell that he can’t feel the thundering of your pulse. “Maybe more.”

You feel your body buzz under his attention. Remus leans in closer, “Let me take you out after this? We can go somewhere quiet and have a proper ‘first’ conversation.”

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi!! I'm sososo obsessed with Satyr König oml you're a genius (also I've binge read your whole yandere könig tag it's so perfect). Okay so sorry in advance for my English, but:

I can't stop thinking about a shy (and kinda pervert lmao) nymph reader who sees him, sees how big and strong he is and how well he secretly protects all her sisters (and how irresistible his big, thick cock is) and really falls in love and is wildly attracted to him, BUT she's very shy and the idea of telling him her feelings is too mortifying, so when he's out in the woods she sneaks in his den, tidies the place up, brings him some flowers as gifts (yeah im inverting the usual roles lol), snuggles in his bed of furs (maybe touches herself fantasizing about him-) and König, well, notices the changes in his house and is VERY perplexed, so one day he returns earlier than usual and sees this cute, soft and unaware nymph moaning and whimpering in his den, her face against his furs, all wet and willing and ready to mate while she quietly moans his name, eyes closed and face red- he'd go FERAL

The idea of desperately horny satyr König with a more than willing needy nymph makes my brain melt oml

(And btw, do you think you'll ever write Satyr König again, in general?)

Satyr!König goes absolutely feral, yes.

He noticed the lingering sweet scent at the mouth of his den already, a sugary, floral scent that he knows so very well. He knows it to his core, because his nose wants to follow that scent whenever he catches it.

Only nymphs smell this sweet, like flower meadows and moonlight, like spring water and honeycombs. The distinct scent of a kore is eerie, and only gets stronger when he walks further into his lair, but what’s more is that he recognizes who this particular scent belongs to… He has memorized her in his loneliness, and every time he catches a whiff of her in the air outside, he can’t help but grow hard.

He barely even notices the absence of his usual mess, that someone has washed all his cups and put his wine pots in order. His den has seen a lot of brooming, and there are fresh flowers placed on his oaken table, thoughtful bouquets hanged from the roots of his oak. But before he gets to inspect those odd little things further – he’s used to trampling flowers out in the wild, he never even thought of using them as decoration, but they do look kind of nice, don’t they? – he hears a soft whimper from the back of the den.

From where he sleeps, and isn’t it peculiar how he can now smell something else, now, too… Something irresistibly heady, something that demands action at once, making his cock stir and swell to the point where it’s almost painful. There’s another soft moan, calling to him like an enchanted flute: his whole den has changed from a dark dungeon into a soft, scented temple, echoing with the sounds of a maiden in heat.

He finds her spread over his thick, musky furs, furs that have seen countless lonely nights, and have to be changed every turn of the moon because they’re so grimy. She doesn’t seem to have any trouble with laying down in his filth, the rough furs that smell of seed and satyr sweat, of old musk and maybe a few tears. Satyrs cannot cry, they say, but that’s only because no one ever sees them do so. He’s spilled more than his fill of salt on that makeshift bed, and not all of it was ropes of hot seed…

“P–please…”

She sees him, sees how surprised he is catching her here, in the place all nymphs always try to evade. She sees how hard he is while watching her bare and panting there, all over his furs, lips swollen from lust. Both up and down, her lips are wet and quivering; she’s completely ready to be taken, and only the tiniest sliver of respect prevents him from fucking her senseless right here and right now.

“Please, I beg of you…”

But when she begs for it like that…?

He doesn’t hesitate a moment longer. He simply cannot.

And why waste time on thinking how she got here (or more importantly, why she got here?) Why mull on the hot question of why isn’t the loveliest creature on earth trying to get away from him?

“No need to beg,” he grunts as he lays himself upon her, cock hot and already leaking as it finds her entrance.

The smell of ambrosia envelops him as he glides inside, the whimper from his nymph a song of paradise. She smiles softly at such immediate lust, or is it the sun that comes out of the clouds, somehow reaching under the branches of this oak?

She welcomes him with open arms, a tear falling down her temple and into her hair as he tries to be gentle with her. But it’s not really his size or his lust that makes her cry. Her hands trail up and down his sides, they try to desperately wrap around his wide torso. She looks into his eyes while he starts to rut her, amazed to have been granted such a blessing at all.

“I’m in love with you,” she sighs into the air between them, her eyes glimmering with worship in the dim, earthy dusk of his den.

He messes up with his thrusts, breathing out his shock while hovering over her. She’s so delicate and frail, and so desperate for a nymph who’s supposed to be frolicking in the open fields… She should be climbing in the tall trees and giggling at centaurs from there, she should be admiring the full moon and the stars, she should be playing in the freshwater with her sisters.

He always thought this one feared him the most, slinking into the shadows beneath the trees whenever she saw him. Casting her eyes down as if she didn’t want him to notice her at all, never mocking or teasing him like the others did. That’s why he left her alone: because he didn’t want to break her. She was far too pure for someone like him.

But now she’s here, with flowers and a hot, wet body, trying to grab him so hopelessly in her fragile embrace…

“You can’t say things like that, little one,” he warns, feeling something akin to fear for the first time in his life.

“Why not…? It’s true,” she chimes there beneath him, a few more tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

His chest is burning, but the only sound that comes out of him is a low growl. A warning and a plea.

“You shouldn’t tease an old faun.”

“And you shouldn’t stop what you only just started...”

He blinks at her answer, at her soft smile.

Then, he shoots down to kiss her neck.

She moans from love when he opens his mouth, careful not to puncture her delicate flesh with his teeth: he only devours his nymph with soft hunger, licking and sucking her soft skin. Her giggles and sighs drive him to the sweetest madness as he starts to make love to her under the earth.

His home has never heard such cries of joy, felt or seen such displays of devotion… He returns her confessions thousandfold, in every way he can. These silly little creatures always fear a satyr’s love is only about lust, and therefore escape such hollow adoration, but he’s not here to just ease the pain in his sacks.

He’s now forever bound to her, whether she knows it or not…

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello there, may I request how Yandere Malleus, Idia, Leona, Jamil, Silver, and Vil would react to a darling who’s personality and mannerisms are like Wall-E?

Wall-E Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Your actions speak loudest because you don’t say anything other than your name. You’re just as cute as ever and you have a thing for trash so being Crowley’s unpaid lackey is a perfect job for you. They might suspect that you may not be entirely human…you shouldn’t be as excited about the garden as you are and how did you get all the trash to be in a compact cube…? Nonetheless, you’ve captured their hearts or at the very least their trash:

Malleus Draconia 

“You’re collection is astounding…these trinkets are quite curious. Would you like to see my own?”

He relates to your sentiment of maintaining a horde

But it seems you like more than just shiny things

And he bristles when you’re accepting menial things from others

Especially when you’re avidly refusing his own contributions

“What? What’s the matter? This jewel seems worthy enough to join it. What? No? Why not?”

He’s perplexed by your little busybody nitpicking 

Only satisfied when he concludes that you are what he wants in his own horde 

“I’ve made an astounding revelation! You are what I’ve been missing in my own collection. Do not fret I will willingly be inducted in your own as well.”

Idia Shroud 

“Ewww touching grass?! Pft try the eternal joy of gacha games.”

He begrudgingly idolizes you 

For the earth loving trash conscious you 

He plans to corrupt you

Or at the very least upgrade you to enjoy the finer things in life

“What’s better than trash collecting? Hehehe try this~! No! No! That’s not trash!”

It seems he has a lot to teach you

But he can’t let those normies get a hold of you before him

“Whoa whoa, social butterflies you already get to have everyone’s attention just let me have them this once.”

Leona Kingscholar 

“Only an herbivore like you would want this. Here. Take it or I’m throwing it away.”

He doesn’t know what you find so attractive about trash

Throwing it away or keeping the pieces you like

But he can’t help but love the way you’re eye sparkle when you get what you want

Suddenly he’s looking at little things a lot longer

Should anyone stop you or him he’s not leaving them unharmed

“Don’t bother their stuff…Otherwise, I’m hunting you.”

Jamil Viper

“Y-you are so strange…but you’re so cute.”

He’s enamored with your simple trashy tastes

But he can’t complain because it's you

He does have to quickly stop you when he casually calls things trash

He just wished your cubing policy works the same way with annoying nuisances

It’s alright 

He’ll do it himself

“Now you, tell me where you put that lighter…or it’ll be the last thing you throw away.”

Silver 

“Here (Y/n), I brought you something for your collection. Does it fit?”

He’s oddly amazing at finding what’s perfect for your collection

He could sit and watch you all-day

Continuing to feed your collection

He honestly debates spilling trash so that you can make more trash-cubes

He likes it when you do that

Gets a little too defensive when someone wants to help you pick up trash

Pulling his coat back, hand on the hilt of his dagger

“I ask that you give (Y/n) some space…I know its selfish but they look cute doing this.”

Vil Schoenheit 

“Eugh!? I’d rather you keep your trash+ collectibles out of your fashion set.”

He really hates that his darling dumpster dives

That's how he sees it

You need correcting and he’d be the one to do it

Or at the very least let you keep the beautiful collectibles

“Come darling, I will not let you tarnish your own beauty for such a hobby.”

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Black Christmas, Scream (kinda)/ Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Billy Lenz, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; Billy Lenz, mentions of violence and general slasher activity, kidnapping, stalking

♡ notes; i didn’t include Bubba last time, so i slipped him in with the pt 2 team :v

also for ghostface i went with Danny over Billy + Stu, just because i’m more comfortable writing older characters tbh. and he’s very attractive to me. maybe i can do a college au fic of them in the future?

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> you were lost

> utterly, hopelessly lost without a map, compass, or even your backpack

> you were out camping with a couple of new friends when you wandered off to pick flowers

> well, acquaintances more like- they weren’t particularly nice to you, but you knew one from your home town

> before you knew the sun was starting to set and you had no clue which way to go

> you’re kicking yourself for being so dumb but try to make the best of it, continuing to collect flowers and pretty rocks

> soon enough you find yourself on the edge of a lake

> that couldn’t have been good- there weren’t any lakes near the campsite at all

> maybe this was that old summer camp they’d mentioned?

> either way you turn around and try your best to retrace your steps

> but even with a full moon it’s just too dark and too dense and you’re exhausted

> holding in tears, you find a small meadow and finally sit to rest

> you’re still sniffling and rubbing your eyes when someone walks up to you

> you were so oblivious that Jason was able to get a few feet in front of you before you noticed

> he seems…perplexed to find you there

> he thought he’d gotten all of the campers

> and you didn’t really look like you belonged with those fornicators

> (or at least that’s what he told himself to justify leaving you alive)

> he’s holding his machete and soaked with your companions’ blood, but you don’t seem to notice

> “…can you take me back to my friends?”

> well he most certainly cannot do that, not if he wants you to like him- though he’s not sure why that matters

> he’s still staring so you, exhausted, do the only thing you can think to

> “…do you want a flower? I picked a lot”

> he’s delighted and takes it before finally gesturing for you to follow him

> you can’t keep up, so eventually he picks you up

> and like that you’re nearly dozing off

> you don’t even notice he’s taking you back the way you came from

> and he’s glad- he wasn’t going to give you much of an option anyway

Bo Sinclair

> single travelers are so much easier to deal with

> so when Lester gives him the call that some college kid was stuck on the road, he’s eager for an easy catch

> you take your sweet ass time getting to the station- even though Lester drove you most of the way you let him drop you off just outside of town

> the smell of the truck was really getting to you, and you’re happy to let the dog lead you

> when he strides out you’re cooing over Jonesy and giving her a belly rub for her troubles

> he’s seen his fair share of attractive victims

> men, women, and folks that didn’t fit either category

> and he’s slept with most of them

> but you… there’s something extra special about you

> he decides right there he’s not taking care of you without at least getting a taste

> you’re not too impressed by his flirting- or at least you try and act like it

> but he catches your pink cheeks and quiet giggles as he takes you on a walk

> because of course he’s got the part down the road at his place

> by the time you get there he’s decided he’s marrying you - or maybe keeping you tied up, beggars can’t be choosers

> he’s impulsive but he’s never wanted to keep anyone before

> “hey sugar-“ god your face heats up just hearing him call you that “turns out I don’t have that part you need. It should be in by tomorrow, if you can stay the night?”

> you say yes before you can think critically- he’s good at getting folks wrapped around his finger like that

> “Good. Cause I’m just dying to show you some real southern hospitality…”

Danny Johnson

> he knows you long before you know him

> he’s a natural nosy guy- he’s a journalist after all

> and a serial killer, of course stalking is on his to do list

> originally you were going to be a victim

> you’d make a good story, a young person taken tragically early

> but you were too cute to die just yet- he had to at least meet you, just once

> if you were a dick no one would say anything nice for your article, right?

> so he just happens to bump into you outside your work one day

> literally bump

> when you spill coffee all over yourself he smoothly apologizes and offers to help clean you up

> “What a mess- I’m so sorry sweets. Let me take care of all this”

> and you fall for it, hook line and sinker

> he’s a handsome guy, he’s used to that but he’s smug anyways

> he gives you a spare shirt of his, though you still skip work

> he buys you another coffee and you sit in his car chatting

> you’re innocent enough to trust him like that- to get in a vehicle with a strange man?

> a strange man that’d been stalking you, no less

> it’s adorable- if he wasn’t so attached he could kill you right there

> but you’re just so damn sweet, and genuine

> and you’re so fascinated by these Ghost Face killings…

> maybe you’re worth keeping around for a bit

> just a bit

> that’s what he says to himself anyways

> when you meet him as Ghost Face, it’s after you’ve already got him all figured out

> and he’s lucky that you like a bad boy

Billy Lenz

> it’s a given that you first meet him over the phone

> you’re renting out a spare room from Mrs Mac, not in the sorority but a good enough tenant that she keeps you around

> you get along well with the girls and cook them meals, run study sessions and help clean

> it’s almost parental at times, even if you’re not far off in age

> Billy hates you at first, for taking such good care of ‘filthy piggy whores’

> he tells you just as much over the phone, but you’re not bothered

> you never seem to be bothered by his calls

> and that pisses him off more

> but you’re so so cute… it quickly becomes an obsession

> he’s in your walls constantly, watching you

> and the calls from the moaner start coming more and more frequently at times you’re home alone

> one day you just start giggling at him, tipsy “you know, you scare the girls,”

> “good i—“

> “but your voice is sooo nice. that’s why i pick up so much”

> you didn’t mean to confess that , and you hope he takes it as an awkward joke

> when he hangs up you think that maybe he did take it that way

> its not until late that night that you realize that he knew he was sincere

> before you can register that there’s anything wrong he’s covering your mouth and pinning you to your bed

> “hi there, baby doll,”

> his grin gets huge when your still horrified face goes bright red

> he always knew you were perfect

Bubba Sawyer

> you pick up Nubbins hitchhiking one day, and he’s just dumbfounded by you

> you’re nonplussed by his rambling and you don’t squirm at his yucky pictures. you don’t even kick him out, just drop him off at the gas station.

> you’re not really his type, but you’re fascinating

> he’s gotta get you home to meet his brothers

> so he pops your tires when you go inside- all four

> when you come back out Drayton is cursing him out and smacking him upside the head

> he makes him take you back to the house to rest up while he gets you tires

> of course he intends for Bubba to kill you

> but Nubbins doesn’t pass the message along, because he’s Nubbins

> “Here Bubba! I made us a new friend!”

> you shyly greet him, but he’s an oddly calming presence

> let’s be honest you’ve gotta be okay with a lot fast to like the Sawyers

> so maybe you’re just in denial about the material

> but you tell him you like his mask- and you do

> he obviously worked really hard on getting the makeup just right- and it compliments his suit

> he stares at you a long while before taking your hand and giving you a grand tour

> well, more a tour of his favorite spots

> the chicken coup, a patch of wildflowers out back, and his room full of trinkets collected from victims

> you’re strangely enamored by this big, quiet man

> and you don’t get the sense you’re allowed to leave

> especially when Drayton comes home and goes on and on about witnesses

> but you didn’t really even have an end goal in mind on your road trip anyways

> and now you’ve got Bubba to protect you

> maybe it’s not so bad, stuck with those weirdos

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

I’ve binge read your blog tonight! Amazing! I was hoping your requests are open if not please ignore this message 😊

What about astarion x tav reader , who’s an artist - astarion who’s dying to look in a mirror but she depicts him perfectly , possibly angst to fluff? Feel free to take this prompt any which way, I thought this would be wholesome 😊

Aww, that's so cute!

This reminds me of that comic that's floating around here with Tav drawing him and Astarion, not knowing what he looks like anymore, looking over their shoulder like "ooooh you got a crush on this random man we don't know. who is he?" So I mixed that vibe in here!

This is set just a bit before he realizes he's in love with you because I love that for him.

~

Astarion wasn't worried. He wasn't obsessed, he was just intrigued. Curious even, mildly perplexed at worst. Because he had no idea why he kept catching you drawing the same elf time and time again. And you refused to tell him why.

Now, in all fairness you did occasional sketch out other members of your group. Not everyone, just the few who had the patience to stay still while you worked. Wyll, Shadowheart, Halsin. It was a passion of yours, your art, something that Astarion always liked about you. It helped that you were fantastic at it. You're drawings were so life-like, capturing nearly every feature on their faces. They always left Astarion sincerely impressed, the few times he had managed to see them. Because for someone so talented, you were oddly secretive about your sketchbook.

Now that didn't exactly stop Astarion from seeing them. There were the times he would shamelessly watch you over your shoulder, only leaving when you noticed him and started flailing to cover up your work. He also took the opportunity to occasionally steal it from your tent while you were gone without him, a consequence of you trusting him. He had warned you about that, hadn't he?

You really did create beautiful work. From picturesque scenery to your famous portraits. Though it seemed you had a favorite subject, that damned unnamed elf. You knew the man well enough to draw him from memory it seemed, because Astarion would have remembered running into that face.

Why you never asked the man you're sleeping with to model for you instead of this stranger, he wasn't quite sure. But it was starting to bother him. It didn't help that he was objectively handsome, attractive in a semi-mysterious way. It was even worse that you would start blushing and stuttering whenever he asked about him. You wouldn't even give him a name, just vague stumblings.

"He's um, from Baldur's Gate," You had mentioned once, completely avoiding Astarion's eyes, "It's um. Not important."

"So you'll be introducing us soon then?" Astarion had asked, half-hopeful that you'd deny it. His life would be a lot easier if the mystery man turned out to be a long-dead lover.

But instead you just gave him a shaky nod, "I-sure. Y-Yeah. One day."

And you had left it at that, staying infuriatingly vague whenever he brought the subject up.

Astarion wasn't worried. He wasn't. Or maybe he was, purely off the fact that it couldn't be healthy to be so obsessed with one man's face. Especially if the man in question wasn't him.

Astarion was aware that he was attractive. He had to be for everything he'd gotten away with over the years. But he literally could not know how he matched up to this... random stranger. Who, by the way, had done nothing to help you while you had a mind flayer parasite trapped in your head. Astarion certainly had that over him at least. But he wasn't quite sure if he matched up in... other areas.

Astarion wasn't exactly used to being self-conscious. At least not when it came to his appearance. The ability had been taken away from the second Cazador got his fangs into his neck. He still thought about it, often in fact, that he had no idea what he looked like. But the enamored responses he usually received by existing quelled most worries.

Now though... now he had to wonder. And he wasn't a fan of the feeling.

He hadn't wanted to ask for your help in seeing himself, he was hoping that you would have offered on your own by now. But since that was clearly not happening, Astarion had to bring matters into his own hands.

He watched as you fiddled away in your sketchbook, suddenly obsessed with replicating the tassels on his favorite pillow. According to you it was one of the few things you didn't know how to draw perfectly, despite it looking just fine to everyone else. Astarion supposed that the artist mind just worked in mysterious, semi-frustrating ways. Ways that he frankly did not understand.

"How would you feel about drawing me sometime?" Astarion asked suddenly, his brows going up to his hairline at how the simple question made you flinch, "No offense darling but I do believe I'm more interesting than a few tufts of string."

You weren't looking at him as you answered, still scribbling away with now-shaky hands, "I-um, I'm not sure if you'd want me to-"

"Why ever not? Frankly my dear I'm a little offended you haven't asked me to model. It would be nice to be aware of what my own face looked like."

That at least got your eyes up. You looked oddly guilty, fiddling with your pencil, "I-shit. I'm sorry. I should have thought about that."

"It's fine," Astarion said with a wave of his hand. He was used to being a last priority, he didn't take offense, "Besides, you can make it up to me now. What do you say?"

You swallowed, avoiding his eyes as you nodded, "Y-Yeah. I can do that. Um, sit up a little for me?"

Astarion listened, excitement starting to crawl up his spine. He was actually going to see his own face again, for the first time in centuries. All because of the person he love-cared for. Cared for deeply. Who still made him borderline beg for the privilege but oh well. Beggars couldn't be choosers. He had learned that lesson many times.

It took a long time before you were finished, nearly three hours. Not that he minded, if anything he appreciated how seriously you were taking it. And who knows. Maybe if his face managed to be interesting enough, you'd abandon your other muse in favor of him. He could only hope.

"Okay," You said eventually, setting your pencil to the side, "It's done. But... just don't laugh, okay?"

Astarion barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes, "Is my appearance that amusing?"

"No but-gods, here. Just look at it," You said, tossing the sketchbook to him, "Be gentle."

Astarion caught it, excited to hells and back as he looked down. Only to find the exact same elf he'd been seeing for weeks. Except this was more detailed than all of the ones from before. He could see... everything. The scars from that dreaded first night with Cazador, two barely there moles on the right side of his face, the exact flow of his hair. He was beautiful, a fact he was aware of, but it was still nice to see. He just... hadn't realized how many times he had seen it.

Astarion swallowed, looking up at you with wide eyes, "You've been drawing me? This whole time? I've been your 'mystery man' from Baldur's gate?"

You shrugged, picking on a string on your pants instead of looking at him, "You make a good subject. And we spend a lot of time together. And... I should have told you when you first saw it. But I just...." You trailed off with a sigh, finally gathering your courage enough to look him in the eye, "I didn't want to freak you out. I know it's a bit... creepy. I guess I didn't want you to know just... how obsessed I was. Or am."

It made sense. In all honesty, the Astarion from mere months ago probably would have found a way to find offense. But now it just felt... sweet. It made him feel warm, and incredibly idiotic. Here he had been, fretting over his non-existent competition. While this whole time he was the one constantly invading your mind. It was a strangely validating feeling. Almost like maybe... you would still want him when all of this was said and done.

He hadn't started this relationship with that in mind. In a perfect world, he'd use you to kill Cazador, cure himself of the tadpoles, gain his own freedom, then be on his merry way, you're feelings on the matter be damned. And he was actualizing that plan perfectly, if this new news was anything to go by.

So why was it suddenly making him feel ill? You had been nothing but kind to him. Accepting, trusting, all to someone who deserved less than dirt. And what would this all end in. Him abandoning you after everything you'd done?

Or maybe... it was about leaving before you had the chance to do the same.

"Do... do you not like it?" You asked, obviously nervous at his stunned silence. But it at least snapped him out of his own thoughts.

Astarion rushed to shake his head, going as far as to move to sit next to you. He took one of your hands in his, feeling uncomfortably sincere as he spoke, "I love it. Thank you for doing this for me. Thank you for all of them. I am more than happy to be your muse darling. There's nothing I'd like more."

"Really?" You asked, looking so hopeful it made his heart clench in his chest.

"Really," Astarion said, moving to cup your cheek, "But I will be expecting payment for my services. I hope you realize you'll be sleeping here tonight."

"No complaints here," You murmured, right before his lips touched yours. You were smiling into the kiss, sweet enough to make Astarion want to scream.

Just what had he gotten himself into with you?

[mynameismckenziemae]

Underestimated

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x You/Reader/OFC

Summary: Being mistreated isn’t uncommon for a woman working in a male-dominated field, but Bob isn’t going to let it slide when he witnesses it happen to you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, military/mechanical inaccuracies (I’m assuming), misogyny, etc.

——————————————————————————

For as long as you can remember, people (men) have underestimated you. Starting with your older brothers thinking you were an easy target, though they quickly learned that wasn’t the case. Next, your math teacher overlooked your intelligence because you were female. Your guidance counselor tried to persuade you away from the Navy after graduation because you weren’t tough enough for the military. The RDC laughed in your face the first day of boot camp, saying someone of your stature would never make it through; it sure felt good to see the smile fall from his face when you received ‘Outstanding’ marks in your physical readiness test.

But just because you were used to being underestimated; doesn’t mean it doesn’t get old.

It’s been two months since relocating to your hometown to be the lead aviation structural mechanic of North Island and none of the men you oversee have warmed up to you. The look of disappointment on your crew’s faces when you were introduced was obvious; your name was gender-neutral so they were counting on a male. You hadn’t expected them to befriend you, but you did expect respect; which was definitely lacking.

“A little help over here,” you call out, struggling to not lose your grip on the intake part you were trying to replace.

“Hello? Can someone help me?” You ask again a few minutes later, muscles trembling as it slides further off your shoulder. Not only would it hurt like a bitch if it lands on you, but it’s also not a cheap part if it bends or breaks.

“Equal pay for equal work, sweetheart. You can’t do the work yourself, you shouldn’t be here,” Jackson, the smug asshole, replies while the others chuckle in agreement.

“Fuck,” you grit out, trying not to panic as it begins to fall. But strong hands are helping you guide it into place. The same hands that have been on your mind since he dwarfed yours when he shook it on your first day.

Your attraction to the rest of him has only grown in the time since, along with your feelings; you adore his sweet, quiet demeanor. Natasha keeps telling you he feels the same way about you, but you haven’t built up the nerve yet to make a move.

“I’ll hold it here while you attach it,” Bob says softly near your ear. Your heart races as you do so, getting close enough that you can smell his signature leather and clean laundry scent.

Bob’s brows furrow as he watches your arms shake from the exertion. “How long were you holding this up?”

“About 5 minutes,” you reply, catching him shaking his head from the corner of your eye.

You’re done a moment later, sighing in relief when you put your arms down.

“Thanks,” you say as you set down your screwdriver and wipe your hands. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in his flight suit.

“No problem. Why didn’t you ask for help?” He asks as he wipes off his own.

“I did,” you sigh. “The boys here uh…aren’t too fond of me being their supervisor.”

“Why not?” He asks, perplexed.

“Because I’m a woman,” you reply with a shrug. “They don’t think I’m right for the job because I ask for help with lifting sometimes. Among other thing so I’m sure.”

His expression quickly turns angry.

“What’s up, Floyd?” Jackson says, smacking Bob on the shoulder. “If you need something worked on, you’re better off coming to me.”

“Why’s that?” Bob asks, shrugging his hand off and turning around.

“Come on, you know a woman’s place is in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant,” Jackson jokes.

But you’re not laughing. Neither is Bob.

“A woman’s place is wherever the hell she wants it to be, Jackson. I know you’re an idiot but I can’t believe you’re dumb enough to say something like that in front of me, but also your female commanding officer. I haven’t been impressed with the way you,” he stops and looks at the rest of the guys that have gathered around, “any of you have been treating her since she started but refusing to help her is going against direct orders. Not only could she have been injured, but the part she was holding costs more than a year’s salary for you.”

He steps closer to Jackson as he continues. “I’ll leave it up to her if she wants to report it, but if I ever see you disrespect her again, you’ll have to deal with me.”

You’re suddenly feeling hot and flustered as the crush you’ve been harboring intensifies as sweet, shy Bob defends your honor.

Jackson visibly gulps, nodding before he looks at you.

“Go home for the day,” you say with a glance at the clock before you begin to clean up your bay. “All of you are dismissed.”

“Look, I’m sorry-“ Jackson starts but you cut him off.

“Save it, Jackson,” you sigh. “I’m not going to report you, but I will if it happens again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replies before scurrying away.

Bob follows you as you wash your hands in the sink, scrubbing the grease off. “Sorry, if I overstepped. I know you’re more than capable of standing up for yourself. I just can’t-“ he starts but you interrupt him as you dry your hands.

“You didn’t overstep. I appreciate it,” you assure him as you look over his shoulder to make sure everyone’s gone.

You take a step closer, bringing a hand up to play with the zipper of his flight suit.

“Thank you,” you murmur as you pull him to you for a kiss.

He freezes as your lips touch his, but only for a moment before he kisses you back; the tension that’s been building snapping in an instant.

“I’ve wanted this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he breathes as you kiss down his neck, groaning as you nip his collarbone.

“Me too,” you murmur against his neck before pulling back to take his hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to the parts room, unlocking the door and pushing him against it once closed, gasping into the kiss when you feel his thick erection pressing against your stomach.

He groans when your hand finds him next, palming him through his flight suit. You shiver before pulling down the zipper, wanting more of those delicious sounds.

“What are-oh God,” he sighs when you fall to your knees, flicking your tongue over the wet spot on his boxerbriefs to taste the precum.

“Wanna taste you,” you say, hands pausing by the waistband of his briefs. “Can I?”

You continue when he nods, gulping when his size is revealed to you. “So big,” you murmur, meeting his eyes as you lean forward to lick the precum beading.

“Fuck,” he whispers before his head falls back against the door with a thump and his hands fist at his sides when you suck him into your mouth.

You bring a hand up to stroke what can’t fit in your mouth and unzip your own coveralls with the other, slipping inside and between your legs to give yourself some relief. Your eyes fall close with a moan as you circle your clit.

“Oh-oh my God,” he gasps when you moan, his eyes zeroing in on what your hand is doing. “Are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes open and take in his wrecked expression before you hum around him.

“Ah…w-wait,” he pants, guiding you off him and to your feet. “I almost-I don’t wanna cum yet.”

You smile as he spins you, pressing you to the door. You shiver as he leaves wet kisses down your neck and whimper when he sucks your nipple through the thin material of your sports bra.

“Next time,” you promise, stopping him as he starts to kneel. “Right now I want you inside me.”

He inhales sharply at your words and nods as he reaches for his wallet, pulling out a condom.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a giggle as he puts it under the light while you slip your coveralls off.

“Making sure it’s not expired,” he replies with a chuckle. “It’s been in my wallet for a few years. It’s good for a few more months yet.”

“Good,” you reply, watching as he rolls it on.

You wrap your legs around his waist when he lifts you and lines himself up to your entrance.

Your mouth finds his as he pushes inside you, and you whimper at the sweet stretch.

“You feel like heaven” he whispers before trailing kisses to your shoulder as you adjust, withdrawing to push back in when you’re ready.

Now it’s your head that thunks against the door as he fucks into you at a steady pace, grunting softly into your neck with each deep thrust.

He pulls back to watch you through lust-heavy eyes as he wets his ring and pointer fingertips before sliding them between you to circle your clit. “Feel good?” He asks, voice husky.

“So good,” you moan, clenching around him as your release starts to build.

“Good,” he nods, “I want you to cum for me, can you do that?”

“Y-yes! Fuck, I’m close,” you whine, your hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as your orgasm rapidly approaches.

He leans in for another kiss and the change of the angle is all it takes for you to fall over the edge with a throaty moan.

Bob’s hips stutter and he fills the condom with a deep groan when you clench rhythmically around him.

He sets you down gently once you’ve caught your breath, making sure you’re steady on your feet before removing the condom. You pull your underwear back on while he zips up his suit.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks as he kneels, helping you step back into your uniform.

“I have a date with a load of laundry,” you joke. “Why, what’s up?”

“Think it’d be upset if you rescheduled?” He asks, leaning forward to press a kiss just above your bare knee, then halfway up your thigh as he pulls up the fabric. “You said I could do this,” he places a wet kiss to your clit through your underwear before continuing to rise, “next time. So I was thinking I could pick up takeout and we could have ‘next time’ tonight?”

“I like the way you think,” you reply with a smile, leading the way out of the hangar.

——————————————————————————

A/N: Thank you @lexixstewart for the idea (again!) You have such good ideas! I hope you like it!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Sorry if you’re not a Bob girly, but I’ll add my taglist here:

@mamamaystbr

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

@86laura11

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@dempy

@angelbabyyy99

@buckysteveloki-me

@djs8891

@mizzzpink

@daggerspare-standingby

@mrsevans90

@littlezee80

@emma8895eb

@jessicab1991

@devil-angel-winchester

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Viral Video (S.R.)

Summary: Someone recognizes Spencer and Reader from a viral video. Request: Spencer and Bau!Reader are secretly dating and while they’re hanging out with the team someone recognizes them from a photo posted on some Insta/TikTok of them being all lovely dovey in public. Like dancing or holding hands or something Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff Content Warning: None! Word Count: 1.1k

MASTERLIST

There is something idyllic about a cafe in the early morning. Even with the busy, bustling people, it’s calm compared to the BAU bullpen. That was why, at least once a week, a few of you would sneak out to grab a quiet(er) cup of coffee.

On this day, however, work begins to bleed into the reprieve. Although she isn’t a profiler, Penelope’s attention is fully captured by someone seated behind you. You almost think to ask her what’s going on, although you assume, like usual, she is simply distracted by a beautiful man.

But, as you quickly learn, it’s somewhat of the opposite.

“Why is that teenage girl staring at you two?”

Curious, you glance over your shoulder before you answer. You spot the young woman easily, in part because she tried to hide her ogling the moment you’d turned around.

Using basic logical deduction, you shrug.

“She’s probably staring at Spencer,” you say.

“Why would she be staring at me?” he asks.

On another day, you would mock him for such a stupid question. But you were feeling merciful, so you offer him a simple reassurance.

“You’re very attractive.”

“What?” he balks, “Who thinks that?”

He wouldn’t get his answer.

“No, she’s definitely looking at both of you,” Penelope corrects kindly.

Anxiety begins to blossom throughout your chest as the pressure mounts. You clutch your coffee mug tighter to try to fight the urge to bolt.

The small idiosyncrasy is enough to pique Emily’s interest.

“I don’t think so,” you answer late and with a notable urgency.

You can feel Emily’s eyes on you, burning through your defenses at an alarming rate. You’re almost relieved when you notice her attention shift.

But the panic quickly returns when she speaks.

“Looks like we’re about to find out.”

Slowly, you turn to reveal exactly what you’d expected to find. The young woman stood awkwardly, complete with a nervous smile and her phone held tightly against her chest.

“Sorry, this is super awkward, but are you two the couple from that video in the botanical gardens?” she asks.

You glance at Spencer, who mostly seems perplexed by the question. You are hoping he provides the right answer.

He doesn’t. Instead, he just says, “What?”

“No, sorry,” you shout over him at the same time Penelope asks the question you were dreading.

“What video?”

The girl is thankfully too caught up in your defensive response to answer.

“Oh, I just figured because you’re wearing the same dress and he—,”

From the corner of your eye, you see Emily’s mouth open with an amused shock.

Much louder this time, you squeak, “You have the wrong people, sorry!”

But the others are too intrigued. Over your protests and across the table, Emily shouts, “No, wait, I want to see the video!”

“No, we don’t,” you insist to no avail, “No, we can let the teenage girl go back to her teenage girl life.”

“Sure,” Penelope agrees.

You are almost hopeful until she continues.

“She’s free as a bird… after she shows us the video.”

You can’t blame the girl. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing when she hands the phone to the tech genius and staunch romantic Penelope Garcia. She knows naught of the terror she is inflicting on the pitiful couple she so clearly adores.

You wonder whether you could factor the cost of a teenage girl’s phone into your budget. You decide that you can’t.

As soon as the screen lights hit her eyes, Penelope gasps.

Even without seeing it, you know what it shows. That day is so burned into your brain that it is replaying before you can even think to stop it.

You can almost feel the light summer breeze on your skin. Briefly, your mind is tricked into smelling the hundreds of blooming flowers. You give into the memory, allowing yourself to escape to that magical place—the little garden with its unavoidable romance where the two of you stole a moment.

It was just a dance, a kiss, a silent exchange of sweet nothings. It was something beautiful enough to make up for all the horrors that plagued every other day in your lives.

It was meant to be a secret. Neither of you had realized that there had been at least one person in the audience (and now, unbeknownst to you, millions more).

Still, as you bask in the warmth of a precious memory, you admit to yourself that you wouldn’t have changed it even if you could.

Soon after, you are transported back to the cafe with a chorus of “Awwwe.”

“Oh, how sweet is that?” Emily whispers through a smirk.

You are trying to turn your glare into daggers but it’s difficult when you can’t unpuff stubborn, frustrated cheeks.

“I need this air dropped to my phone like, five minutes ago,” Penelope urges while frantically tapping the poor screen.

Beside the chaos, you swear you see Spencer smile.

“I need to save this and preserve it for a million years,” Penelope practically yells, “Thank you for this. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome?” the young girl laughs. Then, to be clear, she turns to you once more and asks, “So, it is you two, right?”

You sigh.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Oh my god! That’s so cool!” she squeals. “I have like, a million questions.”

“I do, too,” Emily chimes in coolly, “Like, when’s the wedding?”

“Can I be a bridesmaid?” Penelope follows up.

Finally, the girl realizes her error.

“Did they not know?” she gasps.

You don’t know how to answer without making everything worse. So, you dodge the question with a very related proclamation.

“I’m never leaving my house again.”

She is unpersuaded by your disinterest.

“You two are still together, right?” she asks.

For the first time since the start, Spencer speaks. With a lovesick smile plastered on his face, and without a hint of shame, he answers, “Yeah, we are.”

“Do you have social media? So many people would follow you.”

Spencer is wholly uninterested. He looks at you instead, only to find that you have buried your head in your hands.

“Seriously, it’s like right out a storybook,” she continues to gush.

“No, sorry, we don’t.”

His eyes are still on you. His smile grows wider when you abandon your wallowing and begin to wrestle Penelope for the teenager’s phone.

He knows all about the woman behind the tough facade. He recalls her with perfect clarity and even begins to find a hint of her through your almost imperceptible smile.

“But feel free to tell everyone not to worry,” Spencer reassures the somewhat disappointed young woman. “There really is such a thing as a happily ever after.”

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my Masterlist here!

Reid Taglist (Everything Reid): @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife 

Complete Taglist (All Works): @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme 

Thanks for reading!

[fyology]

 . . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 I'LL BE YOUR GIRL, LET YOU TASTE IT : a ryuunosuke akutagawa fic.❞

❝ "he is such a daddy."  . . . popular streamer 'a' once again makes the girls swoon over him by making out with his girlfriend on stream.❞ one hour ago.

🎀  LIGHTS, CAMERA AND STREAM! ; the hottest streamers and all about them and more at www.mvnjiroarchives.com..

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . please don't come at me with the "aku would never act like this!!" -- he will in my mind.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; streamer!aku, boyfriend!aku, mean!aku, fem!reader, nsfw, dry humping, riding, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, clit pinching, rough play, smacking, gagging due to fingers forced down the throat, manhandling, blood play, lip biting, making out on camera, semi public sex in a way?, uses of mommy and princess, slight degradation and that's all i remember lol.

ideal.

ideals.

what a load of bullshit.

till it isn't anymore.

ideas give birth to ideals and ideals, if taken the wrong way, leads to a world of narcissism. not always, but surely at times.

but ideas and ideals are also necessary and absolutely essential in the society to ensure that it works properly and in harmony.

because everyone who lives, thinks and when he thinks, he thinks no one else ever thought of what he did, which isn't entirely right or wrong.

and everyone had ideals and everyone has ideas and everyone likes someone else who fits their ideals and ideas and everyone wants to fit in the ideals and ideas of others.

perplexing? sure is.

not for the man sitting on his gaming chair though. he who had crafted a mask so tempting that it fits many people's 'ideals', his massive following is the proof of it and the stans on twitter who go berserk after any and every 'attractive' thing he does and makes edits, are the unshakeable evidence of his charms and charisma and also his ability to deceive others.

"what did you say?" it is not common of him to abandon his on going stream to look at you who stood behind his camera set up, an eyebrow cocked up as if to challenge you to utter those words again.

"i said you are a loser." you smile, playfulness written all over your face as you provoked your boyfriend by once again poking fun at his fascination and knowledge of criminal psychology and the overall criminal world and crimes.

"and what makes you think your opinion matters?" akutagawa scoffed with his eyebrow still raised yet with one glance at the screen to see the chat going wild over him as they found him hot, a cocky grin spread upon akutagawa's face and he leaned forwards to grab the packet of cigarettes and to pull a stick out.

"your opinion matters more then anyone else's to me so shouldn't mine matter more then anyone else's for you too?" you tilt your head as you watch him, observe him even, as he lights the end of the stick and push it between his lips.

why he smoked is something you'll never understand no matter how many cynical words he used to explain this addiction of his, saying how smoking isn't a reward but a punishment for when he thinks he hadn't performed as well as he expected.

you did not like it. so you take a step forwards slowly, not being afraid of coming in the camera frame as the man who has everyone whipped for his calm yet raspy voice and the way he so easily yet with a neutral base explained morbid and gruesome details of morbid cases . . . (and he also played horror games), is not someone who is very fond of pda yet despite so, he had made it obvious from day one that you were his girl with the way he stood so close to you or spoke directly next to your ear or close to your face, not wanting to be away from you or at a distance from you.

"why on earth do you crawl to those that are harmful for you?" you whisper for only him to hear as half of your upper body became visible on the camera frame when you planted your hand on the armrest and leaned in to take the cigarette stick from his hand, akutagawa only smiled as he let you, before he too, whispered,

"because i like it when you worry over me."

perhaps the words were simply just charming but you still couldn't stop the frown from etching onto your lips as you stared at him, unfazed.

you leaned up with a sigh and took a few steps away, after which only did you do your next step ; bringing the stick of pain closer to your lips to get a taste of what is in the nicotine in it that has your boyfriend coming back to it time and time again.

"hey, no. don't even think about it." akutagawa tsked as he watched you not reacting or taking his words seriously and with a sigh, he stood up from his chair to take big steps closer to you.

"come on, it's just one puff ryu. you do it all the time so why not let me try it too?" you tried not to grin as you took a step back to maintain the initial distance between you two but one glance up at akutagawa and it was clear that he didn't share the same amusement as you did right now.

"because i said so." akutagawa told, extending his arm to grasp your wrist to stop you from taking another step back and he pulled on it, pulling you and making you bump against his chest as he stared down at you, looking unamused.

"well then if i say so then you should also not smoke." you knew your attempt at negotiation is worthless yet you still tried but when the ends of the man's lips twitched before they curled up into a taunting smile, you knew it was hopeless to even think of using words against the one who weaves words like silk.

you watched with lips parted for a possible protest when akutagawa took the cigarette stick from your hand and brought it towards his lips again.

"and what if i refuse? are you gonna hit me princess?" akutagawa taunted in a low tone as if his voice isn't already enough to make the blood in your body pump excitedly. he even leaned down to look directly into your eyes and so, gulping your shyness, you nodded.

"i will. i'll punch you so hard that you'll be crying like a little boy." you warned or, well, tried to then why did you take a step back immediately?

simple because akutagawa had the ability to make you grow shy and flustured with even a glance so when he took a step towards you, you took one back on instinct as you felt joy twirl your heart in a dance.

"yeah? then why are you moving backwards princess? c'mere and punch me." akutagawa smirked as he said so and you shook your head, trying not to smile as you kept on walking backwards.

and as you did, your eyes went up and down to check the man stalking towards you, akutagawa isn't the most muscular and is more on the lean side yet he still had some assets, from his pale veiny hands to the soft abs hidden by the white short sleeved t-shirt and a leather jacket on top of it. black always did look the best when he wore it after all.

you kept on walking backwards and akutagawa kept on walking forwards ; the dance of the predator and the prey came to an end when the back of your knee bumped against his gaming chair and taking it as an opportunity, akutagawa took a big step forwards and pushed you on the chair with his knees.

you sat on the chair and your eyes immediately widened as the camera lens mocked you from your peripheral vision yet it was the least of your concerns when akutagawa leaned down, placing both his palms on the armrests, the cigarette between his lips as he smirked down at you like a predator who finally has its prey cornered.

if only one of you two could turn your heads to watch the chat going in a frenzy at this unexpected act, then maybe things wouldn't have escalated further but then again, perhaps akutagawa had been searching for this opening to make it clear to everyone that he belonged to someone.

"stop or i'll punch you for real ryu." you smiled up, leaning back on the chair as you bit your lip to suppress the smile which threatened to break on your face.

"go for it, let's see if you actually have the guts princess." akutagawa challenged but when he tried to move back to stand straight, your fingers found themselves clasping around his hand as you did not want him to end this moment.

so with a smile, you took on his challenge as you raised your knee up to hit him on his stomach, akutagawa stopped you immediately as his hand grasped your knee and he pulled it up to make your leg wrap around his waist, keeping you in that position.

"say you are sorry." akutagawa said but you only scoffed, tilting your head.

"or else what? you are going to cry to your mommy little boy?" your cockiness was thrown out of the window the moment akutagawa used his other hand to do the same for your other leg as he did with the first one before he twisted both of your bodies so that he would be the one sitting on the chair and you on his lap.

"who let that tongue of your's get so sharp?" akutagawa titled his head as he grasped your chin between his fingers, looking at the screen to make sure the chat doesn't find this too offending and once he saw the positive response overtaking the negative one, akutagawa smirked a bit to make this more memorable for his viewers before he raised his eyes from your lips to your cheeks to your nose to your eyes, completing a journey in which his eyes feasted upon you and your features.

you do not reply yet only smile as you let him toy with you, finding it hard to not smile when he turns your face to the sides using your chin before letting go of your chin but his assault on your face continues as he lightly smacked you -- perhaps the correct term would be 'gently patting' your cheek if we judge his action and the force he used to carry it.

"answer me." akutagawa mumbled but when he saw you bite your lip as you tried not to smile, he gently smacked your other cheek, entertained by your reactions.

"why should i?" your words hitted the right spots as akutagawa sighed, leaning down on the chair as he adjusted himself and you on his lap before he looked at the chat, smacking you again and making your head turn to the other side.

"wait who was gonna tell me he has a gf?"

"what a daddy. daddy daddy daddy."

"MANSPREADING?? HELLOEWTDD???"

"i moaned and something else purred."

"kiss kiss, fall in love."

"did he run out of topics? what's the use of bringing his gf to this stream?"

"bros desperation is showing."

"what are her socials? i am sure i can treat her better."

oh.

ideas are ideals yet ideas are dangerous if thought about without morality and resistance.

and akutagawa does not entertain any thoughts of this kind where people think they are free to imagine themselves with what akutagawa had already claimed as his.

for akutagawa is a possessive man, quite territorial in his nature.

his eyes narrow like how a tiger's does when it sees someone, a unwelcomed guest in its territory.

the tiger takes a step forwards slowly. akutagawa licked his bottom lip before he decided to take in your appearance to see your chest rising and falling calmly as you breath through your nose, the way your eyelids move when you blink to hide your preety irises from him temporarily before showing itself to him again, the way you are silently smack your lips as you wait for akutagawa to do something or say something yet all he does is stare at you while listening to the comments piling in by every passing second, no doubt many more would've had commented how they think they can treat you better then him.

how on earth can they even begin to think of such a big misunderstanding and how can they, with the passing second, continue to believe the little delusion their mind created for them?

there is a freeze in the muscles of the tiger before it begins to run towards the intruder. akutagawa's hand grasped both of your wrists before he brought them down, pinning them on top of your pubis mound as he leaned up to place his lips on your's, moving them slowly at first as his other hand grabbed your nape to move your face away from the camera and more towards him.

"won't apologise? you wanna keep on being stubborn?" akutagawa rasped, his breath getting a bit heavier as it is desire that is pushing down on his lungs everytime you or he moved, he could feel the outline of your dripping core on his crotch and near it and as you rubbed yourself on his thighs unconsciously during said movements, it drove him insane due to how restricted he is from freely touching you.

it all made sense. the reason for you to barge in and to try and provoke him and as akutagawa grinned at the realization, he smacked your cheek again. "such a needy princess, ain't ya?"

akutagawa had whispered out as to not let anyone else hear him yet his voice came out throaty as he did so, making it sound as if it had a hint of growl in it and that made your cunt to squeeze around nothing as more arousal dripped out of you and onto the fabric of your panties. you only nodded, licking your lip as akutagawa turned the chair around more so your bodies wouldn't be directly visible to the camera.

"so this is why you came to ruin my stream? because your pathetic fingers don't hit the same as your boyfriend's?" akutagawa mocked as he played with your bottom lip by flicking it, akutagawa raised his eyes to look at you as he smirked and let his hand (which was previously playing with your bottom lip) to trail along your cheek before cupping the curve of your jaw, "apologise to me already mommy."

akutagawa had softened his tone at the last part on purpose to make you feel breathless and breathless you were. your hands would've grabbed the collar of his jacket had it not been for his hand pining both of your's down.

akutagawa immediately leaned up to push his lips against your's as he pulled back as quickly yet didn't tilt his head back, choosing to remain in that proximity to tease you further knowing you and him share the same disadvantage of being unable to move freely.

"are you gonna stop --" you words were bought to a halt when akutagawa leaned in again to bump his lips against your's, the short moment of skin contact was frustrating to you,

--stop stream -- " you closed your eyes tightly before opening them again and akutagawa's hands grabbed your hips to adjust you to hide his crotch which is slowly growing hard under you, this caused your hands to be free and you immediately buried them under his shirt to lightly trace through his slight abs, your touch didn't feel as tickling as it felt stimulating for him, a light pink blushed coated his cheeks.

this had caused his eyes to widen and when his adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a sheet of satisfaction covered you as you slowly parted your legs to have your clothed cunt press up against his crotch more.

"ryu . . . are you gonna stop streaming now or do i have to fuck myself infront of all your viewers to get you --" your words stopped, eyes closed and your hands tracing his abs laid flat out against them when akutagawa tsked mocking, immediately capturing your lips with his.

he moved his lips with aggression and desperation as both of his hands raised slowly up your body, slithering up your sides before one rested on your collarbone in such a way that his thumb pressed against your collarbone while the other four fingers were digging into your shoulders.

akutagawa quickly separated as he raised his hand to smack you on the cheek, leaning near your ear to mutter,

"what a needy slut you are, princess. you wanna let my viewers see how much of a cock hungry slut you are? go on, make a fool out of yourself f'me." akutagawa tilted his head.

his words made your thighs twitch yet you quickly shook your head as your hands clawed at his abs as if desperately trying to hold him, "n-no ryu, 'm sorry, ryu really. please ryu. sorry, 'm really sorry. for real."

your words came out smoothly in a whiny tone as you pecked his lips after every 'sorry' you pronounced and this action of attaining forgiveness and reawaken some slept on softness in his heart made akutagawa grin.

not smile but grin almost close to a smirk as the cockiness radiated off of him.

"you are sorry? really? won't be a brat anymore, right princess?" akutagawa mimicked you by pecking your lips after every sentence he spoke and when you parted your lips to speak, akutagawa shoved his index and middle finger down your mouth as the pads of both the fingers pressed down on your tongue to make you unable to speak or even close your mouth.

"shh. be a good girl and take it." akutagawa said while he pressed down on your tongue more while pushing his fingers deep till they were in knuckles deep, your gags and the saliva dripping down your chin made his cock harden up more.

the saliva dripped down your chin slowly made it hard for akutagawa to remain still, his legs twitched and he pressed down ever harder on your tongue making you jerk up as you looked at him through blurry eyes, the sight causing him to tilt his head back and moan and when he did so, his adam's apple bobbing up and down was a sight for your eyes to feast upon.

"f-fuck it." akutagawa stuttered and cursed as he tilted his head back up before immediately pulling his fingers out of your mouth and instead, replacing it with his lips on your's.

immediately, he pushed on his heels to roll the chair forwards, the wheels of the chair crushed the cigarette which dropped from his hand long ago and along with that, so did his stream end. after doing so, akutagawa's eyes shifted to you again as he lightly digged his teeth on your bottom lip thrice or twice as he leaned back on the chair to sit more comfortably, hands on your curves to guide you to lean back with him.

akutagawa's hands trailed up your body, squeezing the flesh along the way before one rested on your jaw as he gripped it with his fingers while the other once again went lower to grab and grope the flesh of your ass now, akutagawa's lips moved against your's before he began to leave little pecks on your bottom lip for a few seconds.

as he separated, akutagawa looked at the monitor to make sure the stream has ended and once he made sure of it, he turned his head back at you again to see you breathing heavily as you looked at him him with half lidded eyes as you licked your lips.

"how can i not give you my entire world when you are such a patient princess f'me?" akutagawa groaned, grabbing your hips again as he lifted himself from the chair, turning you two around before making you sit at the edge of his chair while he went down on his knees, looking up at you.

"ryu --"

"i know princess," akutagawa intrupted your whine as he clasped both of his plams with yours, pulling your arms and wrapping it around his neck which made you lean down towards him. akutagawa tilted his head up, once again kissing you while his hands undid your shorts knot and slipped under it to rub over the wet patch he felt before too, over your slit.

"let me reward you now, yeah?" akutagawa mumbled in the short course of time where his lips separated from your's before he began to kiss you again, his tongue slipping through the small partition between your upper and bottom lip which you created to allow him access inside.

his tongue swiped over your teeth once before he used his free hand to grab your palms which were turned into fists behind his head, pulling on both of your fists to pull you closer towards him and have his lips pressed dangerously close to your's.

his teeth clashed against your's while his tongue flicked your own, he pulled back slightly to have his attention on your bottom lip as he digged his teeth into it, drawing out a few beads of blood from your lip.

he immediately moved towards your upper lip as he left a gentle and soft peck on it, his finger which was rubbing your slit now moved up to pinch your clit which made you softly cry out.

as akutagawa's finger lowered towards your slit again, so did his lips as they sucked on your bottom lip as he sucked out the blood. your hands grabbed his hair tightly as he leaned up while still being on his knees to push you back onto the chair and he used his hand to push your legs apart and towards your chest after your back was supported by the back of the chair.

two of his fingers immediately plunged into your hole and you moaned out against his mouth which lead him to once again dig his teeth into your lip to draw out even more blood.

your hold on his hair tightened as he showed no mercy, as if the concept is foreign to him with the way he pushed and pulled his fingers out of you so fast, your chest heaved up and down with each thrust.

you were only given limited oxygen to breath into as akutagawa's attacks on your bottom lip didn't halt for even a second, alternatively sucking on your bottom lip and sucking the blood out or drawing more beads of blood out of your lip.

it was when he felt your walls tightening around his fingers that he raised his thumb to rub aggressive and quick circles around your clit, his lips leaving yours as you began loudly moaning and whimpering while your body shook as it prepared for the upcoming and quick orgasm though you didn't expect it to leave your body in such a way.

every nook and corner of your body felt the farewell of the orgasm as pleasure replaced it, your back arched as you leaned back even more on his chair, almost sobbing as akutagawa licked his lips and watched how your legs shook while you squirted, your panties and shorts getting wet was a sight that made his cock harden up even more.

akutagawa immediately grabbed your throat to pull you near him, not caring if you are still breathing heavily due to the orgasm or how your body is shaking, he watched your red and swollen bottom lip and parted his lips, pressing his down on it to experiment with it and see if the pressure of his tongue could draw out blood or not as he once again began to aggressively rub your clit and he whispered out, hot breath colliding with your mouth,

"give me one more princess? --" akutagawa paused to smirk cockily, poking your lip with his tongue. you parted your lips and he immediately began to suck on your upper lip, leaving it only to lick your bottom lip and suck on it softly instead.

your hands shakily grabbed the armrests of the chair to stabilize your shaky body as akutagawa's one hand was choking you lightly while the other was rubbing your clit and when he felt your body tense again.

"make a mess f'me please mommy." akutagawa whispered and watched you crumble down again as your body lost its strength and your head tilted back as your lips parted while you breathed out, short and rushed.

yet akutagawa wasn't one for mercy as he watched with awe at how he was able to make you squirt again, a odd sense of pride settling on his heart and mind.

immediately, akutagawa grabbed both sides of your waist to lift you up and turned both of you around again to make you sit on his lap again, spreading his legs to have you directly above his crotch and he didn't care for how you stained or made his jeans wet.

all he cared was to watch how you let out a dry sob when he humped up against you, the fabric of his jeans colliding with your wet panties and shorts which in turn, made contact with your swollen and sensitive clit and cunt, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through your body.

"ry-- ry-- yu --- ry --" you cry out again as you weren't given the chance to speak out his name even once as everytime you tried to call out his name, akutagawa humped up against you and left you a moaning and trembling mess.

"what's wrong mommy? thought you wanted to be fucked stupid? hm?" akutagawa innocently asked yet the smug smirk on his face told you just how much he enjoyed seeing you be a mess for him.

akutagawa raised his hand to cup your jaw and pull you closer, he affectionately rubbed the tip of his nose against your's before once again thrusting up against you which made you let out a choked moan.

"my preety princess." he planted a soft peck on your swollen lips before his eyes narrowed and he smirked as he whispered,

"i will make sure to make such a mess out of you tonight  . . . mommy." akutagawa teased mockingly as he scoffed and smirked once more before grabbing your hips to lift you up and pull down your shorts and panties just enough to let him see the arousal and cum dripping down your inner side and making a puddle on your panties.

akutagawa exhaled a shaky breath before bringing his hand near your clit and taping his knuckles against it to watch how you jerk up, letting out an affectionate sigh.

"such a preety thing, 's all for me, right?" akutagawa raised his eyes to look at you who was too fucked out to even reply and so, he clicked his tongue before raising his hand up to smack you with the back of his palm, (again, let's not forget that the force of his smacks hadn't once changed and continued to remain gentle).

"i asked you something, ain't you supposed to answer me mommy?" akutagawa raised his eyebrows as he pressed down on your clit yet again and watched leisurely how you jerked up, frantically nodding.

"use your words. you aren't mute, right?" akutagawa commanded and his smugness increased when he watches you sob as you shake your head for he knew just as well as you how he is making it hard for anything other then moans to leave your lips and he cooed as he raised one of his hands to wipe away the sweat forming on your forehead while the other hand had pulled down his zipper

"fine. you wanna be ungrateful to me after i've been so nice to you princess? go ahead and humor me." akutagawa grinned at the way you shook your head while he lifted you up using your thighs, quickly pulling his jeans and boxers down with much effort till they were pooled by his feet and he immediately pushed you down on his hardened and angry cock.

"-yo -- 's your's ry -- ahh - ryu! all of me -- is -- it's your's!!" you end up screaming out as he immediately begin thrusting into you and akutagawa hummed as he watched you shakily wrap your arms around his shoulder, clawing at his leather jacket as you lay your head down on his shoulder only for him to grab your nape to pull your head back so he could stare at your fucked out expression, and before he spoke, he smacked your cheek again as your head turned to the other side due to how lightheaded you feel as you feel another orgasm approaching you.

"such a good girl but don't you dare hide your face. let me see how much i am making you feel good, 'kay mommy? wanna see you as i fuck you stupid." akutagawa whispered and paused for a moment to watch you ; your back is arched as your nails dig into his leather jacket while your eyes are squinted as you try your best to not break the eye contact and akutagawa ran a hand through his hair to push his hair back, chuckling breathlessly before he groaned out, "fuck. fuck me mommy -- let me fuck you mommy. what a hot beauty you are."

━━━━━━━ end 💋.

[call-sign-shark]

✨Angel in Disguise ✨

Part 2 : Angel in Distress || Part 3: Angel In Panic

Summary: Studying hard for the Uranium Mission, you fall asleep in the meeting room. Hangman takes care of you...  Bonus: Bob's cameo.

Words: 1K

Tags: None, this is fluff.

Ask to be added to the taglist!

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Jake had never been a heavy sleeper. The slightest noise usually made him jumped off his bed and look around him in panic. From his childhood to the man he is today, his sleep has always been plagued by nightmares. That is why he never wanted to spend the night with you after you had sex. He would put his clothes back on, wink at you with that specific cocky flat-lipped grin and leave before you could ask him if he wanted to stay. Somehow, you grew used to it, even though it still hurt you. When you start fucking together, you both made it clear that it was just for fun. Because of your job, neither of you  allowed yourself to have a stable and serious relationship. But a part of you could not help but hope it was not just for the sex. At least, you could be friend? But you highly doubted that, for even during the day Jake behaved with you as he would behave with anyone: typical arrogant Hangman demeanor.

Tonight was one of those sleepless nights when Morpheus' arms could not reach him for his sweet embrace. Rather than turning around again and again in his bed, Jake decided to wander aimlessly in the military base. His plan was to grab something hot to drink, a coffee or a tea,  and to go for a night walk in order to keep both his mind and time busy. That was what he was doing when he noticed light coming from under the door of the meeting room. He furrowed his blond brows, perplexed. Was someone in there? He listened carefully, on the lookout for the smallest sound he could hear. After a few minutes of complete and peaceful silence, Jake came to the conclusion that someone had just forgotten to switch the lights off. Well, he had nothing else to do so he entered the room and reached for the switch. He was about to switch the lights off when he noticed a motionless silhouette, sitting further away in the room. Recognizing the overall, he understood it was certainly one of his crewmates. Judging by their peaceful and slow breathing, they were probably asleep. He wondered who it could be though. 

Jake walked towards the unidentifiable dagger to see who had fallen asleep here. How surprised he was when he recognized your adorable face. Your left cheek was pressed against your crossed arms, which were resting on the table. All around you were scattered the F-14 manual, the plan of the missions, and many other papers on which was written each maneuver and how to do them. You knew this information by heart, but your anxiety forced you to re-read them again and again.

The tall blonde man gently shook his head - he had not even noticed how anxious you were. The truth was you were so used to hiding your emotions that no one could read what you were hiding behind your smile. A twinge of sadness and remorse pinched his heart at the thought he had not been there for you. He should have reassured you, he should have helped you, but he did not. Jake started to wonder how many times he had missed the moments you were hurting, and it made him feel terribly guilty.. He who had been busy avoiding you during the day by fear of not being able to control the fucking feelings he started to have for you.

He ran his large and calloused hand through your hair with a surprising tenderness. As he did, he observed your attractive face, relaxed by your sleepy mind. You were breathtakingly beautiful... A faint and soft smile stretched the corners of his mouth at such a beautiful sight. His fingers gently brushed your seductive lips he was always craving. 

Jake decided he could not let you sleep in that uncomfortable position. Noticing the faint goosebumps on your arms, he first took his flight jacket off and put it on your shoulders to keep you warm. It was a dark brown leather jacket with fake lighter brown fur inside. Several patches had been sewn from here to there on the leather. Instinctively, you snuggled in his jacket, lulled by the warmth and the delicate masculine perfume you knew far too well. Your shoulders relaxed, as if your whole body assimilated Jake with safety, which was the case to be true. 

"Hey sleepy head, I'm going to bring you to your bed." 

You perceived his voice but did not quite understand what he said, for you were still dozing. All you could do was mumbling some inintelligible words. Jake could not help but snort with amusement. You were so damn cute .. He carefully carried you, bride-style, in his muscular arms. Instinctively again, you snuggled against his warm chest. He walked out of the meeting room, managing to switch the lights off with his elbows. 

He walked through the corridors, with you sleeping in his arms. Yet, he felt you moving and grunting slightly because your mind noticed that your body was being moved in another location.

"Alright, alright, alright... My bedroom is nearer." He whispered, even though he was not sure you were listening to him.

After a few minutes, he got to his room's door. Jake stopped in front of it and lowered his gaze towards your sleepy face to check on you. Fortunately enough he had not disrupted your sleep. You really needed some rest after all the anxiety you experienced lately. Once again, he smiled as he looked at your sleepy pout and realized how much you meant to him. Maybe he should consider talking to you about your relationship... Maybe you could be more than fuck buddies? Jake 's face leaned over yours, and he gently pressed his lips against yours to give you an adorable peck. His face backed off and he smirks - he had missed your lips. 

A sudden unpleasant thrill ran down his spine. He was feeling watched. Jake clenched his jaws and looked around him...

Only to find Bob, standing in the corridor. 

"The fuck you're doing here?"

"I got up to snack on something." Bob answered, his hand on the doorknob as he had frozen in this position when he saw Hangman kissing you.

"... Don't tell anyone." 

"Hm." Bob shrugged, letting him struggle with a vague answer.

After all, he had always known there was something between Hangman and you.

[taska-rokanh]

Befriending Spock Headcanons

My first Star Trek content! Spock is my favorite character by far and I feel like he needs some love. A lot of my Star Trek content will be romantic, but I feel like especially with Spock, it's necessary to explore the first steps of just becoming friends, because it's harder to break down his walls and he's not one to just act on attraction at first sight.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1 k

- People have very different, often very polarizing opinions on Commander Spock. You'd heard more than enough stories about how cold, calculating, unforgiving, and inhuman he was. 

- But when you met him, all you could think was that he was so cool.

- He was incredibly intelligent, capable of making smart and informed decisions regarding basically any situation that affected the ship in minutes, and always acted with absolute certainty. Despite that, he did not want a command of his own and readily accepted his own mistakes, readjusting accordingly. What was there not to admire?

- You tried your best to be friendly, but you knew it was a long shot. Not only was he a Vulcan, he was your commanding officer. You weren't sure how he regarded any sort of personal relationship, really.

- Still, you found yourself engaging him in light conversation in the halls, the mess hall, or the lift. You broke it off quickly if it didn't seem like he wanted to talk, which surprisingly was very infrequent. If you got him talking about science, or the history and philosophy of Vulcan, it was quite easy to get him to talk.

- Spock is... I'm not sure how he would describe it, but I suppose, pleasantly surprised to find someone that not only tolerates his discussion of such topics, but actively pursues them.

- Whether you know it or not, you've chosen the most effective method of breaking the ice.

- Spock encourages this by consulting you on data that is outside of the normal scope of your duties as often as possible. He enjoys being challenged, and surmises that you must, as well. You have a natural curiosity and a scientific mind, one that with proper training could even attain his level of authority in time. These discussions don't feel like replacement training sessions so much as informal academic chatter, though.

- Spock starts to show that he considers you a friend through verbal encouragement first. It's often very dry and hard to detect, but it's there.

- He once corrected you regarding a postulation you'd made when analyzing some data that was adjacent to your field. You said, "Oh, right, that makes more sense. Sorry, I'm a little stupid sometimes," out of habit, something that you knew you should probably grow out of.

- He looked at you, perplexed. "Ensign, you should not insult yourself for being unaware of a highly specialized piece of information that allowed me to see the facts in this particular light. Every scientist, no matter how intelligent, has their blind spots."

- You smiled at his encouragement before raising your eyebrow in doubt. "Even you?"

- Spock hesitated for a moment before considering his ineptitude in handling his friendship with his captain and now, it appeared, you as well. "Of course."

- You didn't believe him, but thought it was sweet of him to say so. "Thanks, Commander."

- "You may call me Mr. Spock, or Spock, if you prefer."

- "Sure thing, Mr. Spock."

- The Mr. gets dropped shortly after.

- Every smile you manage to get out of him is an absolute treasure, as it is very rare. Something tells me that the first smile he gives you would be in a situation in which you are distressed and he is trying to reassure you, perhaps he sustained a nasty injury and you are very concerned. The smile is fleeting and feels a little unnatural, but the effort he put into it was enough to convince you that he would recover. little did you know there was little effort expended--seeing your care for him, it was almost irresistible.

- Every smile you give him is treasured by him, though they are so much more frequent. It is true that humans smile with so little provocation, but it's still nice to know sometimes that he's the reason and not the butt of some joke (looking at you, Kirk and Bones)

- There are two facts about Vulcans that are very relevant to this situation: 1) Vulcans are touch telepaths, meaning that touch is very, incredibly personal and reserved for special situations (except for Sarek and Amanda cuz they're whores), and 2) Vulcans are, in fact, very emotional people.

- Keeping these facts in mind, there must be some way for Spock to express his feelings of appreciation and camaraderie for you, and it cannot be in the average human manner (handshakes, pats on the back, high fives)

- So instead, he takes a more vested interest in your wellbeing, asking if you've eaten, drank water, slept, etc. especially when you've come back from an away mission and are busy analyzing new data.

- You often seem to find each other following each of the Enterprise's adventures. These are often time-sensitive and life-threatening, and as a low-ranking science officer, often your only orders are to stay put and protect yourself. 

- The first time or two after you've become friends, you try to hide how shaken you are--you know you're fine, really. You just can't help that your reaction to coming down off the adrenaline high is to literally shake and sometimes cry a bit.

- However, Spock sees through what you're trying to do and reassures you that you are safe. "I know."

- "I intended to convey that you are safe to express any emotions you may currently be experiencing."

- Oh.

- You usually end up sitting with Spock somewhere, your quarters, your lab, the mess hall, the holodeck, shaking and crying before recovering after a bit. The emotional expression always makes Spock a bit uncomfortable--not because he's disgusted by it, but because he doesn't have/doesn't feel comfortable expressing the skills or the emotional intelligence needed to interact with them. 

- His simply being there is enough. You recover in 15 minutes or so and can carry on as before.

- "Have you considered consulting Dr. McCoy regarding the management of your anxiety surrounding these events? They seem to cause you a high degree of stress."

- You shrugged. "It's just my body's response, it doesn't bother me," you reassured him. "Besides, I've got you."

- The feeling of being needed in a way not associated with his intelligence or his duty was unexpectedly welcome.

- In time, he comes to take a more active role, bringing you food and water while you're working or offering to make a bit of progress on your work while you take a short rest--Vulcans don't require as much sleep as humans, after all.

- After a while of this, you mention to him that you feel that you could be a more proactive friend, when he takes so much time and effort to look out for you, and ask him what you could do.

- He looks at you, perplexed. "Your presence in my life is quite sufficient," he assures you. "Your companionship proves to be a gratifying part of my daily routine in any measure."

- He has no idea how sweet he can be.

[emeritusemeritus]

Can you write a Fred x reader where reader is a slytherin student and older than Fred so they never really encounter eachother since they not in the same year level. Until one day they got jinxed/ got into some sort of incidents/ prank (whatever you could think of!) where they are tied together until the spell expires itself. So during the time they get to know eachother and get attracted by eachother flirtatious and witty personalities. But when the spell expires both of them feel like there’s no reason to hang out with eachother anymore so none of them make a move until Fred gets jealous over someone asking reader to Yule ball and then they both confess and happy ending?? Thank you so much!!

Hi love! I’m sorry this took so long, but I had so much fun writing this, hope it’s okay! 🖤

Warnings: pranks, minor swearing, banter, finger jokes, fluff and humour. Sorry Miles Bletchley.

Just a reminder to anyone reading that my requests are currently closed, these are ones that I received a while back that I haven’t had time to write until now.

Word count: 3.1k

Ties that bind.

“Neville, NO!”

It's the last thing you hear before you're unceremoniously dragged through the air completely weightless until you crash into a rather solid frame, disorientated and wholeheartedly perplexed. To make matters much, much worse, when you try to pull yourself away, you realise quickly that you can't move even a foot away from the person you'd inadvertently barrelled into.

"Blimey," you hear someone say from behind you but you can hardly twist enough to look for yourself who it is. You begin to struggle against the invisible confines, beginning to panic about the lack of freedom as a crowd begins to gather around you.

"Bloody Neville," the person directly in front of you curses and for the first time you finally look up, taking in the person you were seemingly attached to. One of the Weasley twins.

"I told you not to touch it!" The other, near identical boy says, reaching to grab something from Neville Longbotton's hands as he stands frozen, shocked at what he'd apparently conjured.

"George undo it now," the boy in front of you says rather harshly, announcing himself to be Fred Weasley. You watch as George fumbles with whatever Neville had previously occupied, a trick wand of sorts that looked flimsy and poorly made. You wait with baited breath as George attempts no less than four times to reverse the spell but the increasingly frustrated and bewildered look upon his face only increases with each attempt, making your hopes of freedom dwindle to almost nothing.

"Longbottom what the bloody hell did you do? What is that thing?" You say for the first time, an annoyed expression evident across your face. For the first time, Fred looks down at you from his ridiculous height and stares for a moment, ginger lashes blinking as he looks upon your face. You avert your eyes at the rather intimate distance between your and the Weasley twin and instead chose to focus your icy glare upon Neville who's eyes visibly widen under your stare before he scuttles off.

"It's a trick wand," you hear from directly above you, Fred's unexpectedly soft voice explaining what the malfunctioning device his twin is wildly throwing around is. "It was loaded with a leg binding jinx but apparently we underestimated Neville's lack of ability with magic."

"It's just his bad wand," you reply absently, almost coming to his defensive but quickly pausing when you see Fred suddenly look at you in confusion as your uncharacteristic leniency of the Gryffindor student.

"How long does it take to wear off?" You ask in a mild huff, realising that nothing George was doing would be able to undo the jinx.

"Um well that's the thing," he says hesitantly, causing you to whip your head round to face him as soon as you heard his nervous tone. "It should expire in about 6 or 7 hours."

"7 hours?!" You ask, eyes wide. "But I have potions in-."

"Yeah that's not happening," George says, moving to stand beside you both. It appears the group surrounding you had dispersed, leaving you alone with only both twins in the corridor between the Great hall and the staircases. "Unless you drag him with you."

"I'm going nowhere near potions or Severus grease face."

"So what do we do now?"

Five hours you'd been tethered to Fred Weasley by an invisible bind that still showed no sign of relenting. You'd found weak points of the bind and had managed to untangle yourselves just far enough that you were able to sit directly in front of each other, legs touching and somewhat entwined but at least you weren't stuck on top of eachother like before. You'd found sanctuary in the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, escaping from teachers and students alike until the jinx wore off. You'd been pleasantly surprised when he pulled out a head boy pin from his trouser pocket once you were out of sight of the statue of Boris the Bewildered and had recited the password perfectly to allow you access to the usually restricted area.

"My brother Percy hasn't noticed it's missing yet," he smirked as you looked at him in question, watching him try to slip the badge back into his trouser pocket with a little difficulty thanks to the close quarters between the two of you.

The first hour had been awkward to say the least, with neither of you saying much and desperate to get away. It was embarrassing, humiliating and more than anything you just wanted to run back to your common room but after another hour of torturous silence, he began talking.

The third hour passed quickly and you'd found that he was actually really funny and sincere, much calmer than you'd ever expected him to be. You didn't know him, not really but you'd seen him on the quidditch pitch and heard all about the infamous Weasley twins and their pranks which was intimidating to say the least. You'd figured he couldn't do much more to you than what you were already experiencing and he'd not made any attempt to trick you in the few hours you'd spent together.

The fourth and fifth hour had you both hysterically laughing as you recited your best impressions of the hogwarts teachers, his awful madeye moody impression clearly taking the prize for worst impression ever to be made. You'd gotten surprisingly comfortable on the tile floor, your head resting in his lap though your knees were bent to allow room for the invisible shackles. The conversation had turned to a heart to heart after a few hours of laughter and you found that he was opening up rather easily to you, with lingering looks and shared glances you hoped you hadn't imagined.

“Ask me something personal,” he says with a fleeting smile, looking up from his place on your lap. You’d switched places nearly half an hour ago, with his head now resting against your legs, soft, long fingers hair fanning out across your thighs.

You pause for a moment, thinking of what to ask. “What's your mum like?”

He huffs out a breath of laughter, like an inside joke replaying in his head and you watch as a smirk tugs at the side of his lips.

“My mum,” he begins to say with a smile on his full lips, hesitating for only a minute. “She's a fierce lady, great cook, loving… Sometimes a little pushy.”

“There's seven of you!” You jump to defend her, having learnt all about his siblings from the previous hours of conversation. “Two of them being you and George, I might add, maybe she has to be to keep you in line,” you laugh.

“You may have a point there,” he smirks up at you, staring right into your eyes until you feel yourself get lost in his hazel orbs.

“What about you?”

“Hm?” You ask, your lashes fluttering as you try to blink out of your little daydream whilst being absorbed in looking for the golden flecks in his eyes, praying to Salazar himself that he hadn’t noticed.

“Your mum,” he says, completely oblivious to your gaze.

“Oh,” you frown, feeling a sudden weight upon your shoulders at the very mention of your mother, all lightness and whimsy of the situation gone. “She's well respected… proud Slytherin, beautiful.”

“Guess she passed something on to her daughter then,” Fred smirks, quirking his eyebrow at you and you laugh, nudging him gently with your knee. “Smooth Weasley,” you joke, watching as he settles back down on your leg, one bulging arm coming to rest under his shaggy red hair, his school shirt rolled up to display his veiny, bulging forearm….

“Are all your family redheads?” You ask, prying your gaze away from the slightly freckled patch of skin that seemed to be drawing your attention like gold to a niffler.

“Yeah, have to squint looking at all family photos because it's like looking into straight fire,” he jokes and you can’t help but laugh along, laughing more when you see his head bobbing slightly with your movement. His hair looks unbelievably soft and smooth, like it was perfectly styled to look natural, the pure gold and copper strands standing out against the rest in the faint light.

"So you're Ginger-bred," you add, laughing at your own terrible joke. A burst of laughter spills from him, louder than you’d ever heard and you watch him in slight amazement as he shifts, now sitting up and facing you once again, the place in your lap where his head had been resting now feeling a little empty and cold.

“That was a good one actually, might have to tell George that one.”

“Your doppel-ginger?” Another burst of magical laughter echoes around the room and you watch with a proud smile on your face knowing it was you that was making him laugh like this.

“That one is definitely being passed on, never heard that before”.

“Are all your family Gryffindors?” You ask, turning your head to the side slightly, breaking the momentarily comfortable silence.

“Yeah, though I'd look good in green don't you think?” He winks, gesturing to your Slytherin robes.

“I don't know,” you pause, teasing as you look at him, watching carefully as he follows your eyes. “I guess it's lucky for you that you're so tall, wearing green with your hair... people might think you're a leprechaun.”

“Har-har,” he laughs sarcastically, rolling his eyes in a teasing way but from the smile on his face, he’s far from hurt by your banter.

“So, Yule ball’s coming up,” he begins to say but he’s cut off when you suddenly feel a weight taken off of your limbs, the resistance you’d gotten used to quickly wearing off. You gingerly try to prey your leg further from the point you’d both worked out was the farthest you could go, and to your amazement, you can stretch as far as your limbs can go.

You stand, overwhelmed with relief that the jinx had worn off, wasting no time before stretching and throwing your arms about like a wild man.

Fred laughs and joins in with your excited spin, both of you looking like pure idiots in the middle of the prefects bathroom, dancing around with no music and ecstatic smiles on your faces.

You finally stop, the laughter slowly fading as you feel him pull you in for a hug, his arms stretching around your shoulder with relative ease.

“Thank you for being my date today,” he says cheekily with a full bow as he reaches out for your hand, acting formally.

“It was my pleasure sir,” you play along, thrusting your hand into his as he playfully reaches down to kiss the back of your hand.

“Reckon your potions class is long since finished,” he says, gathering the backpack he’d thrown down in the corner with your book bag. From the lack of light outside, it’s obvious that it’s well past school hours, the entire afternoon spent hiding away with Fred.

You snort, “what a shame.”

“You know, for a Slytherin you’re alright,” he teases.

“Shut up gingerbread, which one are you again?”

He reaches out for you but you manage to scamper as he holds open the door for you both to walk through, hoping you can make it out without anyone seeing you.

You make it right up the corridor towards the staircases before it becomes painfully obvious that you’re parting ways, both of your common rooms in opposite directions.

You turn, just out of sight of the staircases and wait with baited breath for him to hopefully make a move, hoping that you hadn’t read it wrong.

There’s a few moments when both of you stare at each other, neither knowing what to do or say and you watch as his eyes travel across your face, to your lips and then away, the tension breaking.

“Well, bye then,” he says, though there’s a hint of emotion in his voice that sounds almost like sadness or hesitation.

“Oh, bye Fred,” you try your hardest to appear neutral but it’s too hard, you can’t help but hear the disappointment slipping through your tone. He turns away and you take the hint, also turning in the opposite direction as you enter the hall of staircases, tracking them to get where you need to go. You feel eyes upon you but when you turn, you see that he’s walking upwards on one of the staircases, not looking at you. You hang on for as long as you can, trying to spot him each time you join a new moving staircase, watching the red hair eventually fade out of view until you reach the opening to the dungeons.

Two weeks pass and unsurprisingly you hear nothing from Fred, though you seem to be acutely more aware of his presence around school. You hear his voice, hear his laughter and even the passing rumours seem to reach you much more than before, retellings of him and George’s latest prank. You can’t help but search for his red hair in the sea of Gryffindor’s in the great Hall and try to look out for him between classes like a lost puppy. It was amazing really, you’d gone from hardly knowing him, and certainly not knowing him from his twin to being able to completely distinguish him and George apart even with a brief glance.

You told no one of this, naturally, glad that Neville’s misdemeanour hadn’t reached the whole school and that you’d come away largely unscathed, in terms of your reputation. Neville had avoided you at all costs, bumping into you once with panic in his eyes and lasting no more than two seconds before retreating sharpish.

You were gutted, thinking that you’d made an actual connection with him but apparently not, it was just situational. So you did the only thing you could do and return to your life before you’d encountered Fred Weasley, trying to put away any memories or feelings you felt, though you couldn’t deny your life felt that little less exciting now you knew what it was like to spend time with him.

“Y/n?” You turn towards the sound of your name being called, all hope leaving your body quickly when you realise it isn’t him, that it’s Miles Bletchley, a fellow Slytherin that was in the year below you.

“Hi gorgeous,” he says with a smile but you don’t reciprocate, instead fixing him with a slight face of disgust, lips pursing at the nickname.

“Bletchley,” you greet him, making his surname sound as vomitious as possible, which wasn’t a hard task. He was far from the worst Slytherins, keeper on the Quidditch team and an overall nice enough guy but his body language was putting you off completely. Cocky, running his hand through his hair, throwing his weight about.

“So I was wondering if you had a date to the Yule Ball? Gorgeous girl like you has already been claimed but doesn’t hurt to ask right?” He winks.

“Claimed?” You repeat in disgust at his turn of phrase. Your apparently disgust and overall lack of a reply doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightly as he shrugs, a stupid smirk tugging at the side of his thin, chapped lips.

“Figured I’d shoot my shot,” he chuckles, as if he’d made a witty comment that he was so proud of.

“Figure you should stick to goalkeeping, if that’s the shot you’re taking, your aim’s well off,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you turn, walking away from him in a proud sweep, only to tumble into the front of someone seconds after.

Fred.

You open your mouth to greet him but simply pull back slightly, feeling the loss of his large hands around the top of your arms where he’d previously held you. It’s evident he’d seen all of your interaction with Miles, and that he wasn’t too pleased about it.

His gaze is hard and predatory as he glares at Bletchley, giving such a harsh look that it makes you freeze, until he looks at you and his eyes fall soft again. Before you can mutter an apology and walk away, he does something that surprises you, he smiles and speaks.

“So Yule Ball, no keepers, but how about a beater?” He asks with a smirk, but instead of Bletchley’s Lockhart-esque smarmy routine, this one is genuine. He flicks his eyes towards Bletchley’s frame, dragging on your rejection from the Slytherin Keeper. “Gryffindor though of course.” He flashes you a wide smile, his eyes shining as he winks at you and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face involuntarily.

“Oh, George needs a date?” You tease, watching from under your lashes at the myriad of expressions that cross his face in under three seconds. At first he’s shocked, then disheartened, then humoured by your little teasing.

“Funny girl,” he shoots back, the mischievous glint in his eyes turning positively devilish.

“What do you say? May I take the wittiest, prettiest girl in all of Hogwarts to the Ball?” He bows down just as he had that day in the bathroom and gestures for your hand once more.

“You may,” you reply, beaming with joy as you place your hand in his much larger one once again. To your surprise, instead of bending down to kiss the back of your hand as he had before, he gently tugs on your arm and you fall weightlessly forward right back into his chest.

In a move that you’ll remember in vivid detail for all of your life, he leans down, long hair sweeping back as he presses those deliciously full lips onto yours, your hands slipping around his very high shoulders to support yourself. The kiss is quick and chaste but you could cry with sheer happiness, his soft lips on your own igniting a wild spark around you.

When you actually hear a firework around you, you pull away in utter confusion, thinking you’d imagined the signature whinny of a flying firework.

“Couldn’t resist,” you hear from the side and twist around, still wrapped around Fred as you look at George who stands with a smug look on his face at the fireworks he’d released. “Least now he’ll stop talking about you all the time.”

“George,” Fred warns.

“Do you think she’ll go the yule ball with me? Wonder if she’ll wear green, should I wear green? She’s so pretty, soooo funny, I wonder what she’s doing now…”

George’s high pitched, mocking voice gets rapidly quieter with each step as he walks away, fading into the background once again and as you turn to look back at Fred, the colour on his cheeks is a rather impressive bright pink blush.

“Wish I had a camera with me,” you say, making his brow knit together into a quizzical frown as he silently questions your words.

“That’s just the shade of pink I wanted my dress to be.”