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doumadono · 3 days

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Warnings: smut w/o plot, fem sidekick!reader, semi-public, angry smut, names calling, unprotected p in v, creampie, pro hero Dynamight being himself, mentions of fwb & work affair

Synopsis: after catching another villain and dealing with pesky reporters, Bakugo needs to blow off some steam

A/N: I wrote this one shot to celebrate the airing of MHA Season 7 :) Enjoy!

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

Pro hero Dynamight stood victorious after a grueling battle with a dangerous criminal. His muscles were tense, his body still buzzing with adrenaline.

As the media swarmed the battleground, arriving even before the emergency services, Dynamight stood amidst the chaos of the battleground, his expression grim as reporters swarmed around him like vultures. Their incessant questions grated on his nerves, and he couldn't help but scoff at their foolishness.

"What's it like being a hero, Dynamight?" one reporter shouted, nearly thrusting a microphone in Bakugo's face.

Bakugo scowled, his voice gruff as he replied, "It's not a fucking game, you idiot. It's about putting your life on the line to protect these morons." He gestured to the injured civilians nearby, his gaze flickering to where you were assisting the paramedics.

"Can you tell us more about your strategy during the battle?" another reporter asked.

"Strategy? I blasted the shit outta that villain. End of story."

"Is it true that you single-handedly took down the villain?"

Bakugo rolled his eyes. "I don't need a fucking team to handle a scrub like that."

"Are you worried about the safety of the civilians?"

"What kind of dumbass question is that? Of course, I'm worried. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

Another reporter piped up, "Do you ever fear for your own safety, Bakugo?"

Bakugo's lip curled in disdain. "Of course I fucking do. But I don't let fear hold me back from doing what needs to be done, you idiot."

As the questions continued, Bakugo's impatience grew, and he didn't hesitate to show his displeasure towards the reporters. Despite his gruff demeanor towards them, Bakugo's focus remained fixed on you as you moved with purpose, assisting the paramedics in providing aid to the injured. Later, as you assisted the police in securing the villain, his gaze never wavered from your form.

Finally, as the barrage of questions from the reporters finally ceased, Bakugo's patience wore thin. With a curt dismissal, he declared, "I've got more important shit to deal with than your stupid questions. You're nothing but scandal and drama-thirsty extras."

Turning away from the reporters, Bakugo made his way over to you, his expression softening slightly as he approached. "Hey, Y/N," he said gruffly, his voice laced with concern. "You holding up okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his concern, even though you knew you had moments of struggle during the battle. It wasn't that you lacked skills; you were simply inexperienced.

But Bakugo didn't seem to mind. In fact, he saw your potential, and that was all that mattered to him. "Alright," Bakugo said, his tone firm but reassuring. "Our job here is done. The police and paramedics will take over from here. Let's head back to the agency."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion wash over you. It had been a long and intense battle, but knowing that the situation was now under control eased some of the tension that had been building inside you.

Together, you and Bakugo made your way back to the agency.

Bakugo led the way through narrow, secluded alleyways, determined to escape the relentless pursuit of the paparazzi.

The evening was settling in, and the soft glow of street lamps cast a dim, gentle light on the sidewalks.

Bakugo's fists were clenched, and he could feel the tension building up inside of him. He needed a release. "Damn it, they were fucking annoying," Bakugo growled, his voice tinged with adrenaline and frustration as he leaned against the cold brick wall, stopping to catch breath. "These reporters, goddammit!"

You nodded in agreement, feeling the tension radiating off him. "You did it, though, Bakugo-sama," you replied, trying to offer some reassurance. "And you handled them very…. Well."

Without saying a word, Bakugo stepped closer, his gaze intense, his breath hot against your lips as he crushed his mouth against yours n a bruising kiss. The kiss was rough, urgent, a release of pent-up tension. His tongue pushed past your lips, tangling with yours in a heated dance.

You were caught off guard when Bakugo suddenly kissed you without warning. The truth was, it wasn't the first time he had been that close with you. You two had been hooking up from time to time, with a reciprocal agreement between you. Now you could taste the sweat and grit of battle on him, and it only served to heighten your arousal. Your tongues danced together as you explored each other's mouths.

Bakugo could feel his cock growing hard in his unform pants, and he knew well you could feel it too.

His hands roamed your body, squeezing your ass, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples through the fabric of your costume.

You moaned into his mouth, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You could feel his cock hardening against your stomach, and you reached down to stroke him through his pants.

"Shit," he cursed softly between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. "I fucking need ya, dollface." His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss by yanking your head back.

Bakugo broke the kiss, his breath coming in harsh pants. He started to kiss your neck, nibbling on your earlobes and licking your skin. He licked a stripe with his tongue from your ear down to your neck, following the pulse point. A grin tugged at his lips as he felt the rapid beat of your heart beneath the tip of his flexed tongue. With a fast motion, Dynamight spun you around, pushing you against the cold brick wall. You gasped as he yanked your pants down, exposing your ass to the cool night air. He licked his fingers, then reached around to rub your clit, making you wet and ready for him.

You were utterly shocked when he suddenly acted hat bold in the middle of the alleyway. It wasn't that he was shy about sex, not at all. In fact, he had a history of taking you on his desk in his agency, reveling in the thrill of the possibility of getting caught. But this was a whole new level of brazenness. You moaned, grinding your slick pussy against the rough heel of his hand. "Holy Might…"

He pulled his pants and black boxer briefs down under the curve of his ass, revealing his rock-hard cock. Bakugo chuckled, a low, dark sound when he spotted you looking up at him above your shoulder, then positioned his cock at your entrance. He thrust into you from behind, hard and deep, making you cry out. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the alley as he began to fuck you, his hips slamming against your plump ass. "It's fucking Holy Dynamight for ya, little cock slut," he grunted through gritted teeth. "Goddamn, you're so fucking tight," he added, his voice low and husky.

"Yes, fuck, yes," you panted, your fingers clawing at the brick wall. You could feel every inch of his veiny cock inside you, stretching you open and hitting all the right spots, the mushroom tip of his dick kissing your firm cervix.

Bakugo grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, making you arch your back under an odd angle as he continued to pound into you. The slight pain only served to heighten your pleasure, and you found yourself begging for more. "Harder, harder, Bakugo-sama," you panted, your words nothing but a breathless whispers, your body shaking with each powerful thrust of his.

Bakugo obliged, his hips moving faster, his cock going deeper.

You could feel a coil of heat forming low in your belly. You found yourself digging your nails into the rough brick wall as Bakugo took you from behind, his movements relentless and powerful.

He didn't hold back, occasionally delivering sharp spanks to your ass. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice husky with desire. "You're taking me so damn well, little newbie."

His praise only spurred you on, your body responding eagerly to his every touch and thrust.

Bakugo slid his hand down your stomach and reached between your legs, finding your clit. He began to rub it in slow circles, and you moaned as the pleasure built. He continued to tease you, his fingers working their magic until you were panting with need.

You reached down, placing your hand on top of his one, still nestled between your thighs. "Rub my clit," you urged, your voice dripping with desire.

But instead of complying, Bakugo pushed your hand away and delivered a few sharp spanks to your slick pussy. "Shut the fuck up, slut," he growled into your ear, his voice low and commanding. "I'll decide if you deserve to have your clit touched or not." Bakugo's grip on your hair tightened, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, "Now, cum for me, little slut." Dynamight graciously accepted your plea, withdrawing his hand from between your thighs. He spat on his digits, and with a thick glob of saliva coating his fingers, he slid his hand back where it belonged, rubbing your clit with a fierce intensity.

And with a few more hard thrusts, you came. Your body shook, your pussy clenching around his cock as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Bakugo-sama!"

Bakugo followed soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as your boss emptied himself inside you. He pulled out slowly, watching his pearly, thick cum dripping down your thighs.

You turned to face him, a satisfied yet a little hesitant smirk on your face. "My, my, boss," you whispered, "I still can't believe this rookie is your favorite," you gave him a look, pointing to yourself.

Bakugo returned the smirk, then leaned in to kiss you again, a slower, gentler kiss this time. He pulled his pants back up and adjusted them, ensuring he looked presentable once more.

You, too, adjusted your hero costume and approached him. Climbing onto your tiptoes, you reached up to fix his bangs, which were still damp with sweat. "Maybe you'd like to come over to my place to freshen up?" you offered, a sultry smirk playing on your lips.

"Sounds like a damn good idea," Bakugo growled, his voice husky. Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed the meat of your ass, pulling you closer to him. "Lead the way, dollface," he added, his eyes smoldering with lust.

#bakugou smut #bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader smut #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugo smut #bakugou scenarios #bakugo x reader #anime smut #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki #divider by cafekitsune #dynamight x reader #dynamight

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neil-gaiman · 19 hours

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Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.

This is not an ask, rather an answer.

I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.

Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.

Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.

I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.

No one ever believed me. No one.

So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.

I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.

Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.

If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.

I did. I tried my best. I promise.

I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.

I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.

So I want you to know I know why they do it.

They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.

But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.

Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?

Simple.

You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.

I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.

My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.

Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.

Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.

And never stop talking about it.

Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”

When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.

Because you were my only friend. And you still are.

And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.

I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.

And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.

And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.

So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.

Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.

And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.

One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.

Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.

Leto

I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.

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literaila · 2 days

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How would gojo propose? Would he be serious or would he lock in and ask 👁️👁️

there is not one single proposal. oh no.

it’s starts off fairly simple—

“you have to fold it at an angle so that it doesn’t bunch up when you—“ you glance at satoru out of the side of your eye, sighing. “are you even listening to me, satoru?”

“marry me.”

and you drop the sheet in your hands. you turn to him, eyes as wide as can be. “excuse me?”

“marry me?” he’s smiling at you, leaning down so that you’re eye to eye. “please?”

you blink at him. staring for just a moment. the laugh that falls out of your mouth next is nothing short of bewildered, disbelieving. “i can’t—“ you scoff, returning to your sheet which satoru is supposed to be learning how to fold. “no, thank you.”

he pouts. “no? why not?”

you laugh again, kissing his cheek. “nice try, baby.”

and then he stands there with his arms crossed, just staring at you for almost an hour.

or maybe it’s date night and you’re just walking down the street, and satoru points out a lantern that’s bouncing colors off of the wall, a rainbow of light on both of your faces.

and you’re walking arm in arm, just looking at each other.

“marry me,” satoru whispers, his voice lithe and warm, something tangible.

you’re already smiling at him, so you don’t stop. “are you flirting with me?”

“c’mon, just one little marriage. i’ll even buy you a cake. and a ring.”

“wow. that’s a temping offer.”

“marry me?” he repeats, stopping you so that you’re just looking at him.

looking at the light in his eyes, and the colors on his face, turning his skin all sorts of magic.

“i’m think i’m going to pass.”

he groans, almost falling into you. “why not?”

“that’s just too easy, satoru,” you say, kissing his cheek, and then you drag him along as you resume your walk.

the colors fade, and so does satoru’s dejection. your smile is too contagious for him to keep up the act for long.

but then it molds into something else—far more desperate.

you’ll just be opening the fridge, looking inside.

“did tsumiki already pack her lunch?” you’ll ask him.

and satoru will nod. “yes. marry me.”

you just roll your eyes, shutting the door.

or you’ll be in the shower and satoru knocks on the door, peeking a head in. “what time will you be ready?” he asks.

“half an hour?”

“okay…” there’s a pause.

“satoru?” you ask, when you don’t hear the door shut.

“marry me?”

you scoff. “go check on megumi.”

or you’ll be in the store and satoru will put another carton of ice cream in the cart, which you scold him for.

“put it back.”

“only if you marry me.”

“i want you to redact that sentence in the next three seconds—“

or you’ll be exorcising a curse, just finishing up, still panting when you get a phone call. “satoru?”

“marry me.”

“do you actually need something? i’m kind of busy.”

“yes. marry me.”

“i’m hanging up.”

and this goes on for months. it will spread into a year, and at some point you stop feeling guilty for rejecting him every time, and satoru stops looking sad each time you do.

it’s like a habit, some weird tradition the two of you have. you come to anticipate it. appreciate it for what it is—easy, something ridiculous.

megumi personally hates it. “she already said no,” he’ll grunt at satoru, passing him through the door. “just get over it.”

tsumiki just sits there, waiting expectantly every time like the answer will be different. but it never is.

and then there’s one day. you’re both at jujutsu high, both working, and satoru just happens to be sitting on the steps of the entrance.

it’s been a long day for him. maybe something happened with one of his students, or maybe yaga said something just to get under his skin.

or maybe it’s just one of those days—the ones where memories cling to his skin like dirt.

it’s hard being here, sometimes.

and you’ve been looking for him for twenty minutes (because you always have lunch together) when you finally find him.

“hey,” you say, hand going to his shoulder as you approach. satoru doesn’t flinch because he heard you coming. “not hungry?”

he just shakes his head.

and there’s something about him, sitting there with his legs spread out, chin resting on a hand, staring off into the distance like he’ll never be able to see far enough.

he looks like a boy, for just a moment. a boy you used to know well—a boy you fell in love with, almost a decade ago, now.

and you smile, but only a little. because it’s always been easy to be here with him, even when he’s this quiet, and even when his eyes are this haunted shade.

so you’ll sit there, sipping on some tea you brought out—a soda you brought satoru sitting between the two of you.

your thighs are just barely touching, hands inches away from each other. you could cozy up to him, remind him that everything is okay—somehow. but you won’t.

sometimes you just have to sit with it.

but eventually, you’ll start to get goosebumps for sitting outside for too long, and you can hear satoru sniffing as his nose runs.

so you sigh, looking to him. “satoru,” you whisper, voice lilted like you have a secret to share.

he looks over, face mercifully blank. “hmm?”

“will you marry me?”

and then satoru’s face stills. the air is calm, the wind shifting, and he turns right towards you.

it takes a couple of seconds, but his face is like the flash of a camera, sullen one moment, and lively the next.

his incoming smile is almost intoxicating.

“really?” he asks, almost breathless.

you laugh, moving over to him, finally wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your cold face into his neck. “next time you ask,” you tell him, “you better make it count.”

and satoru only smiles, wrapping an arm around you.

“okay,” he says.

#they really are just… so #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #a typical family #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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nxrrislando · 2 days

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WRITTEN IN INK ೯⠀⁺ ⠀ 𖥻 o.piastri

𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 — ᝰ.ᐟ SMAU

PLOT ━━･❪ When he finds an annotated book in his garage unattended at a grand prix and can’t help but read the annotations in his free time only to find her again and be entirely obsessed. ❫

WARNINGS ━━･❪ everything written is fake and for the purpose of entertainment, sexual innuendo, not proofread ❫

a/n: i am alive however it is exam season and it’s kicking my ass so bare with me, also not 100% sure how i feel with this one shot but idk

my fics!

comment or message me privately if you want to be on my taglist !

( INSTAGRAM POST — JULY, 2023 )

yourusername

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yourusername made my long awaited appearance, you’re welcome dad🤗 (day 1)

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username OMG Y/N BUTTON IS BACK IN THE PADDOCK

username bro how much you wanna bet jensons been begging her to watch him do presenting

yourusername @ username oh he has been but i only agreed cause nico freaking rosberg is also presenting and that’s my king

jensonbutton @ yourusername thank you my daisy feeling your love right now!

yourusername @ jensonbutton I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING ME THAT DAD I ATE A BUNCH OF DAISIES ONCE I WAS FIVE

username would it be y/n if she didn’t bring a book everywhere she went

nataliepinkham lovely seeing you, y/n think you should take your dads place!

liked by yourusername!

nicorosberg🙈

yourusername NICOOOOOO

username how far into the book are you??

yourusername should hopefully be finished it by sunday with how busy the weekend is gonna be!!

( INSTAGRAM STORY — JULY, 2023 )

yourusername

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yourusername

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yourbestfriend why would you take a book to qualifying??

| yourusername cause qualifying doesn’t run all day and I’d have nothing to do whilst my dad did his job, gotta be prepared

username im literally so jealous of you omg

username tell your dad he’s a dilf

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dad🦖

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mclaren

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username LETS GOOOOOO

username big things coming for mclaren, we’re on the up

username overtake max into turn one pleaseeeee

( SKY SPORTS F1 CHANNEL — JULY, 2023 )

post qualifying interview — 50m ago

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lando👍🏼

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oscarpiastri

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( INSTAGRAM STORY — AUGUST, 2023 )

yourusername

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user UM YN BUTTON OFF THE MARKET WHAT IS THIS??

user this is suspiciously timed after you were spotted talking to oscar at the belgium gp last week

user no way piastri has game😭

yourbestfriend you’re obsessed with him already my lord we’re doomed. STAND UP

| yourusername we’re still getting to know each other you’d be obsessed with every little detail too, especially since this man has given me flowers the several times i’ve seen him, you’ll love him i promise

| yourbestfriend we will see.

jensonbutton when does your old man get to meet him?

| yourusername so you can tell him the daisy story? no thanks dad

| jensonbutton oh cmon it’s a great story to tell and maybe i’d add a little interrogation at the end of meeting him again to balance it out

| yourusername that’s even worse.

oscarpiastri i’m not complaining…it’s very insightful

| yourusername you’re so cute

( INSTAGRAM POST — SEPTEMBER, 2023)

yourusername

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yourusername he knows the way to my heart 🙈

view all 299 comments

user hmmm🫣

user you and oscar are so dating omg 😭

user for a girl who didn’t go to grand prixs often and her dad HAD TO BEG her you’ve sure been there a lot recently near a certain garage🤗

user looking very papaya yn ???

jensonbutton the daisies were a nice touch🤔

yourusername it’s your fault that he knows about that now he won’t stop calling me that. oscarpiastri @ yourusername it suits you

username UM OSCAR???

username hard launch??

username OSCAR JUST SOLD THEM BOTH OUT

username i love them together already

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri sorry for ruining your soft launch, daisy.

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yourusername was gonna say i forgive you but then you used that god awful nickname (WHEN I CATCH YOU DAD)

jensonbutton hey woah woah no violence young lady yourusername @ jensonbutton😐

yourusername has anyone ever told you you’re so cute (i forgive you again)

oscarpiastri i’m glad🤗 username @ oscarpiastri oscar reminds me of a facebook mum

landonorris from stalking her instagram to spoiling on her instagram, what a journey

oscarpiastri go away lando.

username this hard launch is so cute😭😭

username the way oscar always gets her flowers with daisies always mixed in is so cute, he’s not letting go of that nickname any time soon

username who could have predicted that she was dating oscar piastri? I DID AFTER THE BRITISH GP YOURE WELCOME

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yourusername

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oscarpiastri come back to the garage please and thanks

| yourusername oscar mate i’ve been gone for two minutes

| oscarpiastri no mate thanks and 2 is long enough

| yourusername PAUSE

| oscarpiastri shut up and come back

tags — @edwardslvrr @kika-writes🫶🏽

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erwinsvow · 2 days

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would rafe ever let reader wear his rings? idk that’s just so hot and i feel like rafe would be the type 😭

godd pussy started doing jumping jacks!! your brain>>

curled up next to rafe, still sweaty and sticky all over but not even close to tired, you trace patterns on his skin with your fingers. it's quiet in tannyhill except for the two of you breathing.

you thought rafe must be deep in thought the way he's gone so quiet, but when you look up from your position to see what he's doing or if, unsurprisingly, he's fallen asleep, you catch him staring right at you.

flustered, face warm, you press back against his chest, blinking fast. your fingers continue their path, now on his forearm, drawing little hearts and hoping he doesn't realize. you go further, all the way to his hand, and though you've been in this position a million times, do this or something similar almost every night, it feels different for some reason.

you run your fingers down the back of his land, looping around his fingers. they catch around his rings, and you move your own hand away when rafe stops you, grabbing your hand and keeping it in place.

"sorry," you let out quietly, wondering if he decided he didn't like the feeling. though you're still held in place against his body, you don't need to see him in order to know he's staring down at you, the way he always does, with the look that makes your heart thud so fast you can hear it in your ears.

"stop apologizin'," he murmurs, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. he keeps your hand next to his, and you can't help yourself, pressing your palm flat against his.

"your hands are big," you comment, liking the way the two of you are touching everywhere right now—legs entangled and palms together. he doesn't say anything, doesn't have to. rafe moves your hand, holding it next to his, using his other to slip his rings off.

without any words at all, he slips one of them, his golden signet, onto your ring finger. helplessly big, it falls down to the knuckle. if you move an inch, it would fall off. the other ring falls onto your index finger. you extend your hand, admiring how they look on you.

"too big, rafe," you say it with a laugh, not able to hold it back any longer.

"shit. lemme see." rafe takes your hand, holding it a little out and then closer. "jus' a little bit. looks good on you though."

"all your stuff looks good on me," you breathe out, suddenly feeling like there's no air left in your lungs. rafe just slipped his own ring onto your ring finger, your left ring finger. words and thoughts leave you, focused on nothing but rafe.

"that's right. don't worry, kid, i'll get you one that fits soon enough."

your heart beats even faster, realizing what he means. you smile up at him.

"i don't want a new one. i just want yours."

the next morning, there's a pretty chain and his golden ring waiting for you on the nightstand. both of you know that once you put it on, it's never coming off.

#eee i need him so bad #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #feels like shy reader but could be any of them

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starkeyisthelastname · 2 days

Note

Can you do stepbro rafe sneaking in readers room even tho she says he cant do anything and he eats her out until shes begging him to stop😽💗

Your eyes had just fluttered closed when the soft creak of your bedroom door opening caught your attention. You had thought maybe it was Wheezie or Sarah, but seeing the tall figure of your step-brother had you turning the pink fairy lights on that lowly lit up the room. You forgot sometimes how massive he was compared to you, especially as he stalked over towards your bed.

You knew exactly what he wanted from you, the same step-brother that you had hooked up with the previous weekend at Midsummers of all events. You asked yourself why of all people it had to be your older step-brother that you had fallen for and the way he knew exactly how to please you made it all the more difficult to say no. You told yourself it could only be a one time thing, but your step-brother was Rafe Cameron. Once his possession came to life, there was no going back.

“Rafe- no. We can’t.” Your voice cracked as if you had forgotten how to speak. The way he stared down at you through icy blue eyes had your cunt fluttering in the lace panties you wore.

That material proved to be useless as his head was now between your thighs, tongue deep in your folds like he was a starved man. You had only had this done to you once and it was nothing compared to the tongue fucking your step-brother was giving you.

“You better be fuckin grateful. I don’t eat pussy very often.” Rafe’s cocky nasal tone prominent as he reminded you exactly he was.

For someone that didn’t eat pussy often he was incredible at it. You were almost jealous of any girl you had seen Rafe with and wondered which one got to experience this kind of pleasure. He knew you were thinking, because you felt him stop abruptly. Usual perfected hair that was gelled back, now hung in his face. His handsome mouth was soaked from the mess you were making, his cheeks pink from the constant shoving from the back of his head.

“Whatever you are thinking about, fuckin quit. You are tensing up on me.” He told you, watching your eyes snap back to his before continuing.

He was sloppy with it, not carrying about the manners Ward had drilled into his head throughout his life. He couldn’t help but groan into you at the way you were leaking into his mouth, the whimpers above him only making him want more. He looked up at you through cerulean eyes, watching your gorgeous face come undone.

You were having trouble staying quiet, knowing if he didn’t stop that you were going to scream for the entire mansion to hear. “Rafe! Please.. stop. I can’t take it anymore.” You cried, hand immediately coming to your mouth to shut up.

The amused laugh against your pussy made you gasp, Rafe pulling back only to shove two thick fingers in without warning. “What was that? Yeah smart girl to shut the fuck up. You don’t tell me when to stop, got it sis?” He said, his face completely serious as he wiggled his fingers against your g-spot.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #stepbro!rafe #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut

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flowersforvi · 3 days

Note

hi babes I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD MAKE A LITTLE DRIBBLE DRABBLE ABT ELLIE LEAVING READER HOT AND BOTHERED LIKE EDGING OR SUM'

well, yes! :3 can be read as a standalone but read this for more context.

ellie was on top of you, gentle grinding against your groin— black underwear against your opposing white ones. it was hot, the sight of her letting her lose herself right in front of you; you’re not used to it.

her domineering appearance and attitude sent to absolutely nothing as soon as you touch her. she wanted a way to get back at you for earlier— grabbing and groping her pearl-white ass and just leaving her there to do nothing about it.

it was torture– so she decided to get back at you, you deserved it. grinding on you more forcefully now, making sure to hit your sensitive clit. a hitch of your own breath lets her know she did, and did it right.

you grab onto her waist, not waiting any time to force her back onto your clit— not calculated or measured at all, muttering a small ‘’s so fuckin’ good els— mhn, don’t stop.’

yet she did the exact opposite of your words, stopping in her tracks, getting up from your lap, and leaving. no matter how desperate she was for you- she just wanted to get revenge for earlier.

“maybe next time don’t leave me wet, yeah?”

taglist; @syrenada @satellitespinner @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @ellieslob @starlynnr @enhanct @s4pphicslutt @marsworlddd @sapphiclesbli @ruelliee @antonellavanella @lasting-lover @desireesfics @marvelwomenarehot0 @elliessslut @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @a-little-bit-of-everybody @aouiaa @fairydxll @seraphicsentences @prwttiestbunny @callmewhenyoukan

#— flowersforvi reqs #— flowersforvi writes #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #lesbian #wlw #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x female reader #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie x you #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you

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aliteralsemicolon · 2 days

Text

3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

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

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk. Word count: 8.6K | See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

11:57 PM

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

11:58 PM

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

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

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

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

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

11:59 PM

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

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

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

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

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

12:00 AM

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

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

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

12:31 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

12:56 AM

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

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

2:07 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

3:42 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

“Emily!”

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4:03 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was off?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

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

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

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spencer’s POV

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

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

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

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

Your POV

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

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

2:17 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?” Emily asks.

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

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

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

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

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

4:31 AM

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

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

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

“I’m not.” You persist.

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

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

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

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

4:55 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer?” You say after a second.

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.”

“Always.”

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

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

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

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

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #bau team #spencer reid fic

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thebrightestwitchofherage · 2 days

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Today is holocaust Remembrance Day in Israel

I’ve been trying all day to gather my thoughts and write something , and how can I when there are currently holocaust survivors held captive by Hamas .A few were also murdered on October 7th.I’m so glad the holocaust survivors in my family are not alive to see what’s happening right now.

The posts here tagged with the word “holocaust”are antisemitic and just vile. Nothing had to do with the actual event .

I did however encounter plenty of denial, ignorant comparisons and the claim that Jews/ Israelis are weaponising it to their advantage.

Let me make it clear- The situation in Gaza is horrible but cannot be compared to the holocaust . The holocaust was a systemic & planned genocide against 6 million Jews.

In times where Jews worldwide aren’t safe, Never again is now. Stop spreading misinformation and blood libels. Stop with the dog whistling , mockery and comparisons to the holocaust .We’re not “weaponising it” by saying it happened. demonising Zionists,/israelis/jews as a whole is antisemitic and wrong.

If Jews tell you you’re antisemitic, you are.

If Jews aren’t safe, believe them.

Some of you here literally spread Nazi propaganda (both intentionally and unintentionally ). Do better.

#antisemitism on tumblr #holocaust Remembrance Day #holocaust #israel #jewish #israeli #jewblr #israel palestine conflict #טאמבלר ישראלי #ישראל #middle east #עברית #jumblr #current events

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mammonsrockstargf · 2 days

Note

Can I ask for headcanons where Diavolo, Barbato, Solomon, and Simeon react to their shy gn s/o asking to kiss him on the lips?

Diavolo would give you the world on a platter if you asked.

You're sitting in a chair at the student council office, waiting for him to finish some papers. You watch him intentively, taking in his looks, noticing the way his eyes seem to swirl like gold. His lips look so plush, so kissable-

"Like what you're seeing?" you are interrupted by Diavolos's hearty laughter as he winks at you. Your cheeks immediately flush and you look away, trying to ignore the fact that you just got caught red-handed.

Diavolo walks towards you and holds your chin with his thumb and index finger, smiling down at you. You grip his hand and he immediately interwines your fingers. "Can I..." you begin, but trail off. Diavolo leans closer to you. "Yeah?" he asks. "Can I kiss you?" you ask and Diavolos eyes seem to twinkle as a grin spreads on his face. "I would like nothing more," he says and leans in to press your lips against his, kissing you softly. Diavolo tastes like desserts and power and he can't help but smile once he's got you.

Barbatos is never too busy for you.

"Barbs," you say and watch the demon from where you're sitting on the counter, as he walks back and forth. "Yes, dear?" he says pulling out a pot from the cabinet while getting ready to serve the afternoon tea. "Can we do something tonight? Just the two of us?" you ask softly, while fiddling with your hands, eyes glued to the ground. Barbatos stops in his tracks, turning to look at you. "Of course. I'll make time, Diavolo won't mind," he says, but seems to be talking more to himself than you. You smile nevertheless, looking up, legs swinging from the counter in excitement. "Okay, I'll come over then," you say and Barbatos sends you a small smile, before returning to the tea. "Do you have anything in particular in mind?" he asks and you hum, considering it.

"I don't really care, I just wanna see you," you murmur under your breath. Barbatos smiles and puts the tea on a tray. "I have to go serve this," he says and walks over to you, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. "Okay," you say, breathless, eyes trained on his lips. He goes back to the tray, but you grip his hand in return, effectively stopping him.

"Can I get a kiss?" you whisper and he smiles, placing a hand on the counter on either side of you. "Of course you can," he says and his lips are on yours immediately, while a hand finds the back of your neck. Barbatos tastes like Earl Grey and loyalty and for a second it feels like time stops.

Solomon is touch starved but somehow still makes you beg for it.

"Hello, my love" Solomon says and you shriek, clutching your chest as Solomon grins as he throws his arm over your shoulder and walks beside you. A furious blush spreads all the way from your neck to your ears and you bring the back of your hands to your cheeks, huffing with annoyance. "You scared me," you mutter and Solomon pouts at you before it morphs into a grin once again. "You're cute when you're scared, though," he says and you frown.

"Aww, look at you," he says and grips your chin, turning your head towards him. "How can I make it up to you?" he asks and your cheeks heat up more. "A kiss," you whisper and Solomon's smile widens as he leans down and presses his lips to your cheek. He pulls away again and you let out a small noise of complaint. "What, was that not enough?" he asks, tilting his head to the side and you shake your head. He leans down again and gives your other cheek a peck. This time he doesn't pull away again and his lips hover over your own. "Tell me what you want," he sings and you grip his hand, playing with his fingers. "Don't make me say it," you mutter.

You get a peck on the nose this time. "Solomon!" you complain and he chuckles before you grab his face and pull him towards you, lips finally crashing.

His hands are immediately on your hips as you're pressed against the nearest wall. Lips pressed against your own, tongue sliding across your lower lip, he tastes like mints and magic and he's not letting you go for a while.

Simeon, you don't even have to ask.

"Oh well, I should probably go," you say and stand up from where you're sitting in Simeon's room in Purgatory Hall. "Oh, yes, I suppose the brothers will be missing you," Simeon says and glances at the clock. You nod and begin to gather your things. Simeon instantly helps and hands you one of your notebooks. "Thank you for your help, Simeon, I really needed it," you say and Simeon lets out a laugh, shaking his head. "Of course, I'll always help you," he says and guides you out with a hand resting on your lower back. "Do you need me to escort you home?" he asks and you shake your head.

"No thanks, Mammon is coming to pick me up," you say and he nods.

You both stand by the door, hesitating. Your hands feel clammy and your heart beats hard in your chest. "Well, I suppose I'll get going," you say, but stop when you feel Simeon's hand on your cheek. He smiles and strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Can I give you a goodbye kiss?" he asks and you nod quickly. Almost too quickly, making your cheeks heat up, but Simeon does not mind at all, a beautiful smile adorning his face and making the corner of his eyes crinkle. "Thank god," he says and gives you a peck on the side of your mouth. It barely lasts a second and you huff in complaint, before leaning in and kissing him again, this time properly. Simeon instantly returns the kiss, hands intertwining with yours. Simeon tastes like honey and love and he thinks you might be the end of him.

a/n: thank you for the request, anon, hope you liked it. <3 not proofread, didn't feel like it, lol.

thank you for reading! you can find my masterlist here.

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misslycoris · 2 days

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PLATONIC

𐂂 Oh best believe he's not gonna take you seriously at the beginning of your so-called friendship, I don't even think he considers it as one.

𐂂 He just considers you as one of the many people he knows. He also definitely doesn't think of you as an equal or anyone significant.

𐂂 He'll probably acknowledge your existence if you were a part of the hotel, but if you were just a random demon off the streets then no, he has better things to do with his time. Not unless you do something that grabs his attention.

𐂂 Deliberately trying to be on his good side won't affect him in any way, he's used to that treatment, therefore what you're doing is nothing special.

𐂂 But what does grab his attention? Subtle things. Giving him his space, if you have a phone or any technology invented beyond the 1930s you generally try and avoid him, thanking him as he passes you your portion of the meal he cooks for hotel bonding nights that Charlie mandated. Stuff like that when added up makes Alastor generally more appreciative of your existence.

𐂂 Only then you're upgraded from an acquaintance to an acquaintance that isn't as annoying to be around as the rest.

𐂂 That's when he strikes up random conversations with you, he appreciates it if you take the time to listen and add to it, even more so if you actually set aside something you were doing just to talk with him. It gives him a mini ego boost every time.

𐂂 Writing something while he talks about the hotel's structural problems? His smile widens when you close your notebook and join him by recounting the time you almost fell down the balcony.

𐂂 Eating breakfast and he talks about how he hunts the perfect deer for venison? There you are, chewing your food and nodding, listening to how he graphically describes the process while the rest of the hotel stares at him in horror.

𐂂 Another thing he does during this phase is popping out of nowhere and keeping up with what you're doing, call it interest, call it curiosity, or maybe it's boredom. Now that Alastor knows that you are more tolerant of him he'll fully use that to his entertainment.

𐂂 I can see him trying to get a deal out of you but it doesn't go anywhere, since I'm going to assume we are all smart enough to not hand our souls to Alastor on a silver platter.

𐂂 Survive his onslaught of impromptu shenanigans and move on to the next tier of actually being friends.

𐂂 Alastor treats his friends as his equals so there's that, also be ready to accept his invites to drinking coffee around the hotel and talking about the latest mess the hotel went through.

𐂂 The way he treats you compared to how he treats Angel or Husk is way different that it physically gives everyone a whiplash. I'm talking about something like this:

"Can you not scare off people, smiles? We're tryna bring in people into the hotel." Angel explains, Alastor only simpers as he feigns ignorance.

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about!" He laughs as he skips off merrily. Charlie and Vaggie then nod to each other and drag you into the conversation, whispering you something before they push you towards Alastor.

"Hey Alastor, I just wanted to ask if you could help me with something?" You ask, you haven't made up a chore to ask for help from him but you needed a reason to try and stop him from scaring any potential guests. Does Alastor know? I guarantee you he does. But does he let you do it anyways? Yes, absolutely he does.

"Anything to help a dear out, if you'll excuse us then!" Alastor bids goodbye for the both of you as you walk away, despite being the one to ask him, he was the one leading the way.

𐂂 Alastor also invites you to meet Rosie! Rosie finds you very endearing and if you had a penchant for cannibalism expect luncheons together with them.

𐂂 By this point everyone in the hotel notices how Alastor gravitates towards you, they have mixed reactions to it but the general consensus is to not disrupt your "bonding sessions" as Charlie puts it.

𐂂 Alastor oftentimes shares jokes whether or not you appreciate his humor. Side note, Alastor full-on cackles if you or Rosie say something outta pocket about somebody, and hangouts with both of them are generally a good time. He'll try to say shit like:

"Let's be nicer now." All the while he holds in a laugh after you and Rosie called Susan the wicked bitch of the West.

𐂂 This is also a silly thought of mine, but picture this:

You decided to stay up late one night after you decided to do whatever it is you were putting off and after a while, you decided to grab some coffee from downstairs.

Arriving at the kitchen you see, this eldritch abomination in the shadows looming over the cabinet where the instant coffee packets were kept. It then takes you a few seconds to register that it was Alastor and you were just left standing by the kitchen doorway, wondering what to say.

"Can I grab the coffee packets from that cabinet over there?" You point towards the cabinet, Alastor then quickly shifts back to his usual form and ushers you to the kitchen counter.

"Nonsense my dear! Why don't I make us some nice and hot coffee instead of consuming such tasteless things." Alastor insists and before you could even refuse he was already doing a French press.

𐂂 Though as you can imagine Alastor has his off days, he makes it clear to you when he isn't in the best of moods and you steer clear of him per his request. Then the fight with Adam happened. As the rest of the hotel was busy with rebuilding the hotel, you were balancing both looking for Alastor and helping paint the walls of the new hotel.

𐂂 This is when the remaining walls he had crumbled down as you find him at his lowest, basically defeated and while he was royally pissed when someone saw him in such a vulnerable state, you were the best option out of the ensemble that was currently singing outside of the ruins of his old radio station.

𐂂 Hesitant as he was, he let you dress his wound with bandages, he wasn't comfortable with anything else you offered, not with cleaning up the wound itself, not with telling the rest that he was alive, and definitely not asking for help from anyone either. So you stayed there for a while after you finished dressing his wound up, his blood immediately soaking through the bandage. But you didn't say anything and let Alastor be, and after a few more minutes in silence, he got up and offered you a hand as if he wasn't the one who needed it. The only thing he says is:

"We mustn't dilly-dally now, the rest are waiting for you." Not us, just you. It sounded bitter but you didn't say anything.

ROMANTIC(? AS MUCH AS ALASTOR CAN BE AT LEAST)

𐂂 Romantic isn't the right word for Alastor, I imagine him to be somebody who doesn't outright say his feelings but there's a gradual change, and then one day, before you know it people around the hotel will start asking you if you two were a thing. He's not going to acknowledge the change verbally, but he does notice it and acknowledges it in his own way.

𐂂 Don't get me wrong he's capable of being romantic, acts of service is his go-to, and on days that he feels like it he can be very vocal with his affections. But it's not an everyday occurrence.

𐂂 This only starts right after something like seeing him at his lowest, that for me is when I feel like he's more willing to be more open to you. I mean, you've already seen him at rock bottom, so why not?

𐂂 Go to him during your more vulnerable moments, he's done it to you so he expects the same. Trust goes both ways after all.

𐂂 It starts out small, if you were used to setting things aside just to listen to him ramble, wait until you start to notice that he's doing the same thing for you. Usually when you're discussing something he multitasks, of course he still listens but efficiency is of the essence. Eventually though, he starts to physically put aside anything he is doing, showing that you have his full attention.

𐂂 There are also times when you (and the rest of the hotel) notice that your portion in meals that he cooked has significantly more than what the others have on their plates. Anyone who complains gets told that they were only imagining it by Alastor.

𐂂 Alastor also gradually becomes more lenient with you, letting you get away with a lot more than you should. Steal his monocle? He'll wear his glasses as he searches for you in the hotel. Break something by accident? He'll be by your side telling you to be more careful as he picks up every broken piece before you hurt yourself.

𐂂 Adjustment is key, I can see the other party doing more of it but he also makes an effort to meet you halfway. Are you particularly touchy? He doesn't get it but he knows it makes you happy so he makes an effort to accommodate you.

𐂂 Words of affirmation? Since he gets to see you get all flustered he's up for it! He finds you adorable whenever you do.

𐂂 Alastor tries for you, tries to navigate all of those unfamiliar territories that he's never had the chance to explore to ensure that you don't feel like the only one in your relationship. It does feel like it sometimes, I won't sugarcoat it, Alastor at heart is a man cold and sharp on the edges, but he isn't Alastor if he wasn't and he still cares for you all the same even if he doesn't show it.

𐂂 I'd say the most romantic part of the day for the both of you would be reading together in his room, fire crackling as you sit on the floor (much to Alastor's protest) while you lean against Alastor's chair. Sometimes he sneaks a peek into your book just to see what you were reading out of curiosity, and you'd rather not tell him that you could see him doing it from his reflection through the small mirror he had hanging by one of his shelves.

𐂂 Pet names for days! Yes he does call you chere, next question please. Pet names become more frequent the closer you two become, although, the more personal nicknames would be said behind closed doors. The most he'll call you in public would be darling, he didn't need to air out every part of his life and you both were content at that. Also, call me crazy, delusional even, but hear me out here sharks:

You were sitting by the fire, with Alastor still complaining that sitting on the floor was nowhere near as comfortable as you said it was, you only laughed lightly at how much of a fuss he's kicking up.

"I won't die a second time just because I decided to sit on the floor Al. Besides, you're a lot closer if I sit here. I like it like that. So let me have this one, please?" You don't know why, but he stops in the middle of his tangent. Something about what you just said struck something in him that got him laughing softly, even going so far as to ruffle your hair ever so gently.

"Oh, you dear old thing. I suppose I can't stop you." He eventually takes his hand back and goes back to reading as he hums together with the faint melody of jazz in the air.

𐂂 Alastor helps you dress up if you ask, need help with a zipper you can't quite reach? Hold his staff for a moment while he does. Can't pick between two things? Ask him and he'll give you his opinion, he'll often say you'll look just as lovely wearing either one but he does have his choice.

𐂂 You don't sleep in the same rooms unfortunately or fortunately depending on how you see it, if you're a part of the rehabilitation program you both would have a separate room of your own. Neither of you made any plans of asking Charlie to move you to his room or vice versa either since you were both unprepared for whatever questions she may have so you both agreed to put it off, there really was no urgency or need to stay in the same room anyways.

𐂂 Letters! Events like Valentine's Day never interested Alastor, there was no one to spend it with so he never needed to worry about it. But with you in the picture he starts to think otherwise, you both rarely ask for anything from the other so gifts would have to be purely given by initiative, and now was the perfect time. It takes Alastor an almost embarrassingly long amount of time to settle on writing you a letter, a heartfelt one dedicated to thanking you for being a part of his afterlife, for being someone he can trust, and for making the days less monotonous for him. Imagine his surprise when he hands you a letter only for you to give one of your own. You both share a laugh and settle down by the fire, reading your letters together as Alastor sits down on the floor together with you just this once to humor you he says.

𐂂 All in all, it takes a while, but with time, patience, and I mean a lot of it, you'll get there.

╭┉┉┅┄┄┈•◦_•◦❥•◦_

Interested in hearing me yap even more? Give Signed, Alastor a go if you have the time. It's about a bat and a deer faffing around until they sort their feelings out.

#hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #writeblr #writing #headcannons #alastor headcanons

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 days

Text

(Dark!) BNHA: Toxic Relationship

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Bakugo + Dabi + Deku

Reaction: Moments from your toxic relationship with your Pro-Hero boyfriend.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; Abuse; Manipulation; Non-con.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Let me know if you like this reaction format or what 🙂

–

Hawks

“Y/n is a real clutz, y’know. Can’t even walk on even ground without tripping over her own feet.”

Your cheeks flame with humiliation as the camera pans to the crowd that laughs heartily at the demeaning words, as if Keigo had dropped the funniest joke they’ve ever heard.

“That’s adorable.” the woman laughs, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she has no quirk? I believe you said she is quirkless, right?”

Keigo chuckles, nodding as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

“She sure is. Can’t even imagine what type of quirk she’d have, she’s just not the type.”

Your hand grips the remote tighter. What does he mean by that? Does he think you’re not good enough to have a quirk?

You consider turning off the TV, but fortunately the interviewer changes the subject. They casually speak about the current stance of heroes and their struggles on fighting off criminals and villains.

Keigo is charming as usual, delivering answers that are a perfect portrait of responsibility with a sprinkle of humor. He’s good like that, even though his previous answers left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Somehow, they end up reaching the topic of hobbies and free time.

“Going Pro Hero leaves little time for myself, so sadly I don’t really have much time for hobbies. Wish I had.” he says humbly. “My girlfriend has lots of them, though.”

You inhale sharply. Not again.

For your misfortune, the woman gets interested.

Perhaps because it’s an exclusive interview and her network channel gave her orders to squeeze every drop of information they can get on Hawks’ personal life.

“What type of hobbies? She looks like she’s a great cook.” she tries to guess, but Keigo bursts laughing, holding his belly in an exaggerated mannerism.

“Nah, cooking isn’t really her department. Burned eggs and half-cooked pancakes are more her style. She doesn’t even-”

You change channels in a heartbeat, bursting in tears at the low insults.

You’re not that bad. Sure, you’re not amazing at cooking, but never once did Keigo complain when he eats the food you diligently make after he returns from patrols.

And now he slanders you on national television?

And the worst part? It’s not even the first time he’s done this.

Dabi

“There’s nothing to eat in the fridge.”

“There is.”

“There isn’t.”

You stop writing your notes, swallowing back an annoyed sigh, already aware of what was happening.

“There is food in the fridge.” you repeat, “You just have to cook it.”

Dabi looks at you, unimpressed.

“No shit Sherlock. Maybe you can do it for me.”

“You serious?”

Meeting his arrogant smirk, you huff.

“Dead serious, babe. Not like you’re busy anyways.”

Your mouth drops at his audacity and you open your arms to indicate the mess of books, papers and pens in front of you.

“I’m studying, Dabi. Can’t you see that? Grow up and cook for yourself, yeah?” you snap your attention back to your books, but your mood has already turned sour.

You pretend to scribble down a few words when Dabi walks to you slowly. He peeks into your annotations, snorting.

“That handwriting is kinda shitty.” he mocks you. “Besides, what exactly are you even studying for? You’re not exactly cut out to be a doctor, y’know? Not enough brain cells in you to become that.”

You glare at him, angrily swatting away the hand that condescendingly tries to pet your hair.

“You’re such an asshole, Dabi. Maybe if your life revolved around something other than your stupid daddy’s issues, you would actually get a job. Not like Endeavour is worried sick about you, not when he’s got Shoto.” you spit the words venously.

Not the nicest words, but you can’t seem to bring yourself to bother.

A dark shade crosses Dabi’s face, his amused expression turning colder. You’d be lying if the sight didn’t ignite some fear in you.

“Is that so?” his crooked smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “And why would I need a job - or Endeavour, by that matter - when I have you?”

His hand reaches for your shoulder and there’s an edge in his eyes that immobilizes you. You shouldn’t have mentioned Endeavour.

“I’m not with you because of that bitchy attitude, you know. I like my girl to know who’s in charge. Respect is really important in a relationship and your behavior is making me really upset, baby.” his tone is scaringly soft, and his hand travels to your neck.

You hold your breath when the staples on his hand scratch against the delicate skin of your throat. “So, if you need me to remind you of your place, I’ll gladly help you with that.”

His fingers heat up at a low temperature, not enough to actually burn you but it doesn’t stop the lonely tear that slides from your eye, the only sign of the chilling terror you’re feeling.

He leans forward, kissing your forehead before sliding his hand away.

“Are we understood?”

The nod you give him is shaky at best, but Dabi smiles nonetheless.

“Now, how about that food you’re gonna make me?”

Bakugo

“I have to wake up early tomorrow.”

Besides a low hum, Bakugo doesn’t acknowledge you much, too busy French kissing your neck.

His hands head for your ass, provoking a wince in you when he gropes it with unnecessary strength, your left ass cheek being kneaded like it’s dough.

Katsuki uses his grip on your ass to push your hips forward even as you complain again. The thin fabric of his sweatpants does nothing to hide the hardness that shamelessly rubs against your thigh.

“Katsuki.”

Once again he gives no sign of hearing you, rolling his hips with more urgency and you barely catch the tired groan that almost rolls away from you.

The clock on your side reminds you that despite the early hour, you’ll only have 6 hours to sleep.

You really have to sleep and if you’re being honest, tonight you’re not feeling sexy or horny enough to sleep with your boyfriend.

But that doesn’t make you feel any less awkward when Bakugo’s movements turn more vigorous and needy, humping your naked thigh as if he’s fucking it while you remain as alive as a statue.

“Fuck, this isn’t enough.” he growls against your skin, and your heart skips a beat when his hands reach for your shorts, tugging them down halfway until you panickedly grab his wrist, wiggling your body away from his.

“Seriously, Kats, I’m not in the mood tonight.” you say, quickly pulling back your shorts.

“You fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls through gritted teeth, still hovering above you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you timidly nod.

“Maybe we can do this tomorrow? It’s just that-”

“Yeah, whatever. Not like you haven’t used that stupid excuse on me before.”

Your eyebrows raise with surprise at the bitter tone on his voice as he gruffs, pushing himself off you.

“I’m not making up excuses.”

“The hell you aren’t.” he looks at you, angry. “Every time I try to start something, you turn into a damn nun. Always too freakin’ tired, too busy or not in the mood.”

He scowls, spiky blonde hair falling to his eyes.

“All you have to do is open your goddamn legs and let me do the rest, and you can’t even do that.”

His words hit a sore spot and he turns his back on you, settling on the distant side of the bed after delivering strained punches to the pillow to soften it up.

“Maybe I go after those Dynamite's groupies that are always throwing themselves at me. Since you never want to fuck anymore.”

You’re left too stunned to speak, sadness blossoming at the cruel meaning of his words and it’s a struggle to swallow the tears.

He wouldn’t really, would he? But your mind lingers on the disturbing thought. He’s popular with girls, even with his angry mood.

Bakugo is tall, muscular and not even the ever present scowl in his face is able to contradict the attractive facial features he’s been blessed with. Meanwhile you’re just mediocre, if even that...

Your insecurities strike back, taunting you.

Your hand reaches for his arm before you even realize it, and you’re mildly surprised when he doesn’t shake you off.

“The hell you want now?”

Pulling on his arm until he finally turns to the side, you kiss him.

He groans against your lips, allowing your hand to rest on the warm plane of his chest and you let it slide lower until it touches his clothed member.

Neither of you speak a word, but you feel Bakugo smirking against your lips while he practically shoves your shorts down.

You allow yourself go limp underneath him, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the way he wants to. Holding back a tired sigh when the fluorescent numbers on the clock mock you.

You really have to wake up early.

Deku

“Are you serious, Izuku?”

The tall hero jumps, eyes widening almost comically when he realizes you’re standing on the bedroom’s doorway and not cleaning the kitchen, like he clearly assumed you to be.

“I wasn’t- The phone-” he stammers with his words, plowing your phone onto the bed with a bit too much force.

Crossing your arms, you flash him a frustrated glare.

“You promised me you wouldn’t spy on my phone anymore, Izuku.” your stern tone has him frowning and Izuku practically sprints closer to you.

“I wasn’t spying! I was just- just checking the time.” his words aren’t convincing enough for you to actually believe in him.

You squint your eyes at him, dodging his grabby hands with a nasty slap, despite the hurt expression on his face.

“Izuku.”

“I wasn’t! C’mon, you gotta believe in me.”

You don’t.

“Even if I did go through your phone - which I didn’t - why would that be such a problem?” he complains, dragging his voice. “Do you have something to hide or what?”

You point a warning finger at him.

“Don’t you dare. This isn’t about me. You’re the one who went behind my back because you’re just too insecure to fully trust me.”

He shakes his head, emerald eyes turning feverish.

“You’re being dramatic, of course I trust you.”

“You don’t, stop lying.”

“I do trust you!” his voice rises in volume.

“No, you don’t!” you scream, voice breaking before you crumble in tears.

You’re exhausted. Of arguing, of dealing with Izuku, of everything. When did things turn so frustrating, so tiring? Why does he always have to ruin things for you?

Izuku curses under his breath before rushing to you, engulfing you in a comforting embrace as you cry on his chest.

“You don’t. You never will and I know that.” he stays silent, not contradicting you this time.

He lets you cry on his chest, his hand gently caressing your hair as he mutters apologies.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Izuku hugs you harder, arms tightening around you. “I’ll do better, okay? I promise, I will.”

And like a fool, you accept his promise - even if you know it’s meant to be broken.

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