#worst case: she says no. which i would understand
Note
tw for drugs and sex mentions
yo clove not writing related but do you think it's normal to have not tried recreational drugs by 15 and not particularly want to find them? I've seen people making fun of people for it, along with not having sex which is also concerning to me as a sex-repulsed aroace person (caedosexual and demialterous/aroflux). I'm really anxious about stuff like this so I'd love ur opinion if you're comfortable answering stuff like this, I trust you a lot and you seem like a smart and knowledgeable adult so if you say it's fine I'll probably stop worrying
Hey man if you want to get real let's get real. I won't get too descriptive, but I do agree some people may need the tw so I'll put this under a Read More. Generally my answer is that younger people have a warped view of what warrants maturity and adulthood and a lot of the stuff that they think represents being a Cool Grown Up is actually not meant to be that profoundly world-changing in my opinion. This is especially true for all the stuff that is designed to spike your dopamine, unless in cases where it's being used medicinally (and even then it's case-by-case on if it's really medicinal).
Let's get into it!
So first off let me say the three big things that make me kind of biased to talk about stuff like this.
I am an alloromantic, sex-repulsed asexual
I am an addict
I am a child of addicts
I'll tackle sex first just to get it out of the way, and because I think it'll be easier to answer. Teenagers are one of the most brutal species on the goddamned planet (second only to middle schoolers and that sludge in Chernobyl that kills you immediately if you look at it), and I know for a fact they'll find a way to make fun of you for anything. I didn't know I was asexual in high school. I was an out lesbian at the time - I actually came out on our school broadcast for a GSA ad that ended up playing at least twice a month all year. People were more...too into it, which is also bad.
Mean Teens might say some dumb shit. That sucks, but you'll live. There will be way more Mean Teens that have an opinion on your sex life than there will be Asshole Adults. Like way more. I am open about being an asexual marriage and the worst I get is like "what if you want kids" which - you know - you can shut that down quick.
What matters is what you think about yourself, and the cool truth is that if you go through your whole life never wanting to have sex your life will be very close to unchanged in the grand scheme of things. I'll probably never want to eat a whole olive, and Riley thinks that's crazy because they love olives. But we will both see the same amount of sunsets and cool birds, and we were both eat roughly the amount of yummy snacks and have the same amount of adventures.
I've had sex. Ladies. No, seriously though - it's fine. It's okay. I remember yearning for it for years (I was actually wanting intimacy oops), and when it finally happened I was like oh. that's it? okay. There was a point when my girlfriend at the time actually entered me and I was immediately confused because I had no idea what she was trying to do. I remember I furrowed my brow like I was trying to understand Improv Jazz.
I laughed. i did laugh. That is not great for two people having sex for the first time.
Anyways, I had a few sexual partners and just kind of assumed they were all bad at sex or I was doing something wrong for some reason. Then I met Riley and they were openly ace, and something just clicked in me. I'm still aesthetically and sensually attracted to them (I use sensually in terms that aren't sexual), but there's really no pressure there and we aren't worried about it. And it's awesome.
If someone makes you feel weird about not having sex or a romantic attraction to people then you should feel a little bad for them, because that seems like a thing that a person would only do if they had very little else going on in their lives. That's some bland-ass khaki shit.
Onto intoxicants! So before I moved to Portland I lived in San Jose, California, and shortly after weed was legalized my parents had me start smoking with them - I was 18 - and I ended up being heavily addicted for about three years. This is a divisive thing to say because I know there's some argument about whether or not weed can even be addictive. Let me just say right now, I'm not about to have that argument. I detoxed for about three weeks and I genuinely thought I was dying. Like, I said my "last words" to my mother when she came to check on me. It was rough.
I am not anti-weed. I know it can be an amazing tool for people with certain medical conditions. And if you don't have a history of addiction, it's probably fine to smoke a bowl or a joint every so often and just have that be the end of it. I mean, it's so easy to find now.
Weed is fun, though. That's kind of the reason why it developed it's own culture and persona. The same can be said with alcohol. People definitely have opinions on IPAs. But if someone is so invested in what is essentially little more than an economic industry, that they feel the need to judge you for - spending your money on other stuff? That's piss wizard shit.
Weed is fun, yes, but it is expensive. If someone says they have cheap weed it's probably shit and you need to smoke a lot, or they got it through means that aren't great. And going out to bars also gets costly quick. I still go sometimes, but I limit myself to one fun cocktail.
You can also still go to bars if you want - when you're older, I mean. They can be a good place to meet people and see shows. A lot of them have cool non-alcoholic options - I like when there's a kombucha on tap - or they even have mocktails that are still cool mixed drinks with no alcohol. But they all have Coke or whatever.
There's literally a bar by my house that I go to and I only order the French fries and a Coke. Nobody cares. Getting drunk can be fun if you're in the right situation, but I don't consider it worth the hangover. Getting high can also be fun in the right situation, but edibles taste like trash and if you smoke you're essentially a smoker and that's it's own stigma. What's the alternative - vaping?
Oh my god, vaping? Come on. I have friends that vape and you know how many of them only do it because they're addicted? All of them. Shit sucks. I don't judge them, but I can see them cringe every time they have to hit it.
Also don't let people talk to you about that Delta-8/9 shit. Yeah, it's stronger. Yeah, it's unregulated. But like - it's unregulated and we have no goddamned clue what it'll do in the long run.
Getting high is fun because you don't have to exist in the world for a while and that's great, but it ultimately doesn't solve anything. When I'd smoke a bunch of weed and sativa alone in my bedroom (Hey don't do that! Bad idea! Really bad! My parents knew I was doing this and they allowed it because they are bad people!), I'd giggle and fuck around and eat a lot of snacks, but the next morning all the shit I was trying to escape was still there. Only difference was that now I had to go out and drop another 60 bucks on an eighth to get me through the next two weeks.
A lot of people want to have sex and get drunk or high so they can think of something else other than their current situation for like fifteen minutes to six hours. if you don't want to do either of that, and you're not going absolutely insane, that seems pretty cool. I can cite all the studies that say that a lot of that kind of stuff can actually stunt your development if you get into it too early (Or at all, really), but you don't need me to do that. You know that's the case. I knew that and I still OD'd on weed twice before the age of 21.
You're good, man. It's not a culture when you do that this young, it's a coping skill. And if you found a different one that's going to be way better for you in the long run. You can still have fun and make friends, you can even still have a partner in life if you find that's something you want. Your life is might seem limited in a few ways - but it's actually far more open in many, many other ones.
I don't mind questions like these all, by the way. Thanks for trusting me!
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Help Us Understand.
Barca x teen reader
Alexia x teen reader
Lionesses x teen reader
word count: 3500
Summary: y/n, a talented 16-year-old footballer, nicknamed "la princesa," battles the harsh realities of adolescence. Burdened by self-harm scars and body image insecurities, she attempts to hide her struggles from the team. The team uncovers her deepening eating disorder, prompting a collective effort to guide her through recovery.
tw: mention of eating disorders and self harm
Being a teenager in this world is hard. Not only are you working with shitty hormones and breakouts on your face, you also have to put up with the nightmare of other teenagers. Most of them are fine, in fact, what seems to be the worst of it, are the people who are no longer teenagers, and think that’s a valid reason to attack those who are younger and more vulnerable than them. Like you.
You are a lioness, 16, debuting at 15, now playing for Barcelona, a along side your England teammates, Lucy and Keira. You are known as “la princesa.” The nickname came around after your first game for Barca, in which, you scored a Hatrick and pulled a neat assist. the fans linking your talent to Alexia, saying how much you play like her. Quick, rough, strong. You have always been that way.
This nickname sparked a close connection between you and Alexia. She took you under her wing the second you got off the plane in Barcelona. She didn’t like the idea of you living alone in a new country, despite your ability to speak perfect Spanish. So, you lived with her “only for the first few weeks” which has turned into months. Alexia acts like she is trying to help you find an apartment, but isn’t, like secretly loves having you around, seeing so much of her younger self in you. She fusses over you, cares for you, feeds you, scolds you, drives you to school, gets emails from your school. She has stepped into your life and has supported you in every way a mother would.
You have a bad history with self-harm. It was Leah Williamson who noticed it first, well maybe just the first person to speak to you about it, but you don’t know that. You were rooming with her for your first England camp. Nervous about the girls seeing your scars, you were always wearing a long sleeve under your training kit, which at times got hard as it was summer.
A few girls would joke to you, “how are you not boiling?” was the consistent one that just made you want to rip the skin off whoever said it. It was some of the older girls who brought it up with each other at a post-match dinner that you managed to get out of. It was Lucy, Leah, Mary, Beth and Lotte who exchanged their concern, how they never seen your arms, how you were always somehow too busy for ice baths, how you shivered when someone would grab your wrists. They all kept a close eye on you, but decided not to come to any conclusions, as in reality, you were known to be the sunshine and smiles of the squad.
But you weren’t, and deep down, they knew that too.
It all came crashing down one afternoon, when Leah found a bloody rag in the bathroom bin, she investigated further and found your blades in the back of your phone case that you had left on your bed.
She called Beth to your room, who then called lucy, they gathered together in your room, talking about the next steps. The three of them sat in an almost silence, saddened by the conformed truth. They made their plan, not wanting to waste any time.
They found you in the games room, laughing with Ella as you and a group of girls played table tennis.
“y/n, sorry I just need to grab you real quick” Leah said, breaking her observant silence. You were pulled into a room, it all happened so fast. Lucy placing you on her lap, wrapping her arms around you and Beth pulling your phone out of her back pocket. Leah speaking, you didn’t hear any of it, your focus being on Beths hands, taking off your phone case and picking up the tiny metal blades. You just cried and cried as they talked to you, you didn’t say a word, not denying anything. You cried into lucy’s arms as they tried to understand you and your reasoning being the scars. It took some gentle tugging and tears of resistance for your top to be pulled over your head, leaving you in just your bra and pants in Lucys lap as Leah ran a gentle finger across the healed and fresh marks along your arms. Beth moved closer to you, taking your face in her hands, clearly holding back tears of her own.
No one was supposed to know. But when they did, it killed you.
The bad thing about talent is the expectation of performance, and when you underperform, you would be attacked online. The hatred and negativity really got you, and ruined a lot of your confidence and the girls knew that. They knew the comments you would get, about your play, your personality, your body.
The comments about your body were some of the worst, and they didn’t get better when you started at Barca, in fact, they got worse. It was almost like it was all you saw. You would make a post about a game and hardly anyone would speak about how well you played or how many goals you scored. All you would see was the comments about how your body has changed, how you look in the kit, your legs, hips, arms, boobs. It got so bad that you stopped posting all together and turned off all your comments. Soon however, they comments came to the Barcelona Instagram page, and the pages of your teammates. You worked harder that ever. Working out was no longer about training your body to perform and be strong, it became about looking different and making changes to your body physically.
You were running lengths each morning and evening as well as staying back at training. You weren’t fat, or thin, nothing abnormal for a teenager with a changing body. You had bigger boobs than you did 3 months ago, wider hips, thicker thighs, yknow, everything normal, but the fans didn’t think so, and that’s what got the best of you.
Alexia noticed your increase in running and working out but at first brushed it off as you wanting to prove yourself to a new team. But it soon became hard to ignore when you were finding excuses to not eat, the snacks she would buy you because she knew you loved them, sat in the kitchen untouched. She tried to pretend she couldn’t hear you coughing up each meal in the bathroom, more for her own comfort.
It became too much to ignore when others noticed.
“Why are you running so much little one?” Mapi asked you, completely innocently after training one day in the change room. At first you pretended not to hear, until you realised the whole team was awaiting an answer.
“Do you think I’m just naturally the fastest on the team?” you joke back, getting a laugh from her and a few others. Alexia remains stone face, looking as though she could see right through you.
A few of the girls watched you through squinted eyes as you pull your bag over your shoulder, noticing your spine that wasn’t visible last week. They exchange looks amongst themselves as you and Alexia walk towards her car.
“I got a call from your school yesterday” Alexia says, hiding behind her sunglasses as she pulls out of the car park.
“Why” you ask dry as you pull your phone out of your hoodie pocket. Alexias’s silence was inevitable. You turn your head towards her, awaiting a response. She keeps her eyes on the road, rolling her tongue along her top teeth, looking out at the cars ahead in deep thought.
“Why are you hiding from me bebita?” she breaks her silence, with an almost whisper.
“What are you talking about” you snap back in her direction
“You tell me Pequeña, Why do you think your school called, Se honesta conmigo” her eyes didn’t leave the road.
“No sé” you reply, swallowing the truth that lingers on the tip of your tongue, threatening to reveal itself.
“What is going on with you” Sabes que no deberías actuar de esta manera.” She takes a breath, remaining hidden being her bold sunglasses, refusing to look you in the eye, scared of becoming too vulnerable.
The silence was deafening. Pulling up in the driveway, you reach for the car door, your attempt at defusing the situation quickly rejected as Alexia locks the doors, trapping you in a conversation. You refuse to turn from the window, Alexia now being the one begging for eye contact.
“Bebita, look at me” she whispers. Her failed attempt of a resolution resulting in her hand reaching for your long curls, gently moving your head around to see your face. Her breath hitches as she looks at the tears swelling in your eyes, immediately bringing her thumb to wipe them off your soft skin.
“I hate when you yell at me” you begin, chocking on almost every syllable. “Estoy tratando de ser valiente”
“oh cariño ven” she says desperately as she pulls you effortlessly over the centre console and into her lap, wrapping her arms around you. Your tears just get heavier, as you hide your face into her neck, the idea of getting out of the car, now long forgotten.
“Bebita, your school is worried, you are the top student, why are you not doing work? Hay algo que te distraiga? She gently nudges you in her arms as she askes. “I am worried for you, talk to me”.
You just couldn’t bring yourself too. The truth is, you were too distracted for school, for homework, for study. There was so much on your mind right now. The last thing you were worried about was classes that you already knew all the content for. You were hungry, not eating at all, desperate for control over your changing body.
The next dreaded team bonding night came all too soon. Your tried to convince Alexia you were too busy with school but she wasn’t having a bar of it, almost having to drag you out the door and into the car. Nothing you wanted to do more in that moment than curl up in bed with a teddy and your warm blanket Alexia got you for my room in her house. But it was unavoidable. Alexia was correct in the way of you having to be at the dinner, in her perspective it was to show up and be social, for you personally it was about proving the concerned rumours between the girls that you weren’t eating wrong. However, that didn’t exactly go to plan.
Alexia parks in the driveway of Mapi and Ingrid’s home and you follow her inside. You greet all your teammates, receiving a kiss on the cheek and head pat from most of them and they smile down at you.
Since the conversation in Alexia’s car a few weeks ago, she hasn’t let you out of her sight, you didn’t even get into the not eating stuff, but still has watched your every mouthful over the past few weeks. You still had your tricks, not eating when she wasn’t around, running now three times a day on top of training, and all else. You were deteriorating. Dark bags under your eyes and hallowed cheeks.
“Y/n come get some pizza before you sit” Frido pulls you to the kitchen away from the crowd that was the typical team bonding, this felt like a test.
“Oh no, its okay” you scan your surroundings before following up your statement. “Alexia fed me before we came” you smile, attempting to be casual.
“oh, that’s weird, we always have dinner at team bonding” she raised an eyebrow, questioning what felt like your whole existence. She grabs a slice for herself and tries to offer you some anyways, failing as you kindly decline, insisting you will have some later.
People were scattered everywhere around the home, some sitting around the table playing card games, others vacating outside with a drink. You scan the house looking for place to escape to. All you wanted was to leave the overstimulation that was this monthly event.
You head towards the empty bathroom, the room you spend probably the most time in at other people’s houses. You begin to almost run towards it as you hear your name being called. It was too late; Lucy was stood outside yelling your name through the door of the garden.
“Y/n, come talk to us we miss you” she giggles as she enters the room to get you. You begin the walk of shame towards her. Overthinking what is coming next. Stepping out the door onto the porch your gently grabbed by the back of the neck and brought to a group of women standing around. Their faces light up as they see you. The group consists of Mapi, Lucy, Alexia Frido, Jenni and Ona, all sharing a bottle of wine.
“Y/n, you want a drink?” Ona asks, you aren’t sure if she’s joking or not.
“No Ona, she is a child” Jenni interferes and takes the drink Ona is pouring, handing it to Lucy, who puts it down with ease. You crack a smile at the interaction. They think you are so innocent…
“You’re not old enough for a drink yet Bebita, especially on an empty stomach” Alexia jokes with a smile.
“empty stomach?” Frido butts in, tilting her head in confusion at the contradicting information.
fuck.
You let out a load cough to clear your voice before quickly excusing yourself from the conversation.
“I need to pee” you announce before hurrying inside, finding Ingrid at the table, playing cards with a few others.
The group, now abandoned by you stand in a deafening silence.
“She’s not eating is she?” Frido breaks, looking at Alexia with wide eyes.
“Shes not doing good, no” Their captain reply’s looking down at the glass in her hand.
“So we were right” Mapi says through squinted eyes as she tightened her grip on the stem of her wine glass.
Most of the team has been talking for a few weeks now. Lucy briefly filled them in about your history with Self harm and how you were managing it now. But the not showing up to meal times and doing overtime in the gym was something she couldn’t explain. However, they soon linked it to the bullying from people online about your body. It became to much for them all when Alexia broke down in front of them, claiming her worry for you. It was clear there was a bigger picture to what you were letting them see, seeing as their usually stone faced, strong captain had tears in her eyes over you.
Your rapid weight loss didn’t go unnoticed, even coaching staff beginning to threaten benching you if you didn’t gain some weight, claiming you were too weak to continue at full trainings and games. You always just told them you were sick, claiming it as an excuse for the weight loss and loss of appetite.
At first, everyone, including team members believed you, until they noticed you weren’t getting better, like you would if you were really sick with a catchable illness.
“So what are we going to do? because we cant loose her, shes our best” Lucy asks, getting more frantic as the sentence rolls out her mouth.
“I’ve tried talking to her, she just lies, tells me shes fine, ella me ignorará” Alexia says, finally looking up from her half full glass, meeting the eyes of her teammates.
“I know she needs me, but she won’t talk to me, she is sneaking into my bed each night for comfort, I wrap my arms around her when she falls alseep, ella tiene miedo de estar sola, shes been clinging to us, as if she is desprate for help, but doesn’t know how to ask. She won’t leave my side, unless there is food involved. luego ella desaparece” Alexia blurted out, speaking slow and clear, explaining herself.
“Maybe if we all try” Ona breaks her personal silence, earning a raised brow from a few listeners, the nodding heads soon followed.
“Bebita, can I come in” You hear Alexias voice beam through the small gap in the doorframe.
“A few of us are here too see you” you tilt your head in confusion at her followup statement, why are people here to see you, so late in the evening. You thought everyone would have returned home after team bonding, as did you and Alexia, why was there people outside your bedroom door?
You sit up in your bed, still tucked under the covers in your hoodie (that may of may not be Alexias) and shorts, clinging to your Stitch teddy. You close your laptop playing your movie and move it down the bed, finally giving Alexia a response.
“ehh, yeah come in” you say, unsure on what you are agreeing too.
You remain put under the safety of your covers, as if they would protect you from danger as the group of women enter your once personal space, finding refusge in spots around your room, most of them making themselves at home on your bed, espechailly Alexia, who comes up close to you and wraps and arm around your shoulders. Lucy, Ingrid, Mapi, Frido and Ona looked at you, as if they were waiting for you to break the artifical silence.
“Querida estamos aquí para hablar contigo” Ingrid is the first to speak up, beofre Mapi adds to her girlfrinds statement.
“I think you know what about” she fidgests with her rings. “we are just trying to understand”
“so help us do that, please sweetheart” Frido interupts.
You shake your head and close your eyes, as if you could open them and it would all go away. “I don’t know what your talking about”
“I have lectured you enough about your lying bebita” Alexia says in a stern voice.
The silence isn’t going away. You were in full control of it, and you knew that. You knew that they were waiting for you to talk, no one was going to make it easy for you.
”Desearía poder hacer que todo desaparezca” you shut your eyes once again as the tears start to spill out the creases. “I just want to be able to control what is changing”
The girls don’t speak, they are waiting for more, and they won’t break untill they are statified.
“I don’t know how to ask for help, or how to be okay” The tears get heavier as you push out the words, Alexia runs her free hand along your face, nudging you to keep going. You put in your best efforts to regain your breathing as your lip quivers in Alexia’s hand. Still no one was talking.
“I never meant for it to get this bad, I just wanted to get some control, I feel like there is so much online about me, rumors, hate, negitivity, all things I cant just reach out and get my hands on, to be able to toy with it and mold it to the way I want it. There is so little I can control, but my body, I can. No queria llegar tan lejos. Im so scared of losing myself, I want to hold onto the me that I am forever but I know I can’t, but I wanted to try, and that is why I yearn for whatever control I can get. So many ideas are put into my head about what my body should look like, how tall I should be, how much I should weigh, how tan I should be, how I should hold myself. I realised I am so calm and content when I play football, and that is because I am perfect at it, no one finds flaws in the way I play, but I second I step off the pitch I loose that warm feeling, because I have flaws again. When football is out of the picture, I am covered in them. I just wanted living to feel the same as playing, perfect and flawless.
The amont of tears in the room should safe a deadly drought.
“nuestra niña hermosa, estamos aquí” Ingrid climbs onto the bed coming closer to you, followed by the remaining womens in the room, all finding a spot, as close to you as they could get. So many arms are wrapped around you, so many hands holding your face, wiping your cold tears away.
“Let us help you darling” Lucy and Ona say in an unmost unison.
You slowly allow yourself to nod.
The following weeks were slow and painful, but what isn’t in recovery? The girls put it upon themselves to keep you in check, taking turns taking you out on small adventures, like going for walks or getting icecream to get you out of the house as you were ruled out of training and playing for a few weeks by your phycologist, that Alexia and Lucy insisted that you saw, they drove you to each appointment and picked you up, no questions asked. Meal time in the house became a big thing, Alexia discarding the idea of sitting around the table and eating, instead opting for sitting wherever, weather that was outside, or in, watching a movie, or just chatting. This change of environment around meals made eating less of a chore, as you got better, teammates would come over for dinner and it became more a social event, a more relaxing endeavor. You slowly made your way back to training as you got your fitness back, earning pats on the back from your team who you had made, very proud.
#wsl#woso#lucy bronze#ona batlle#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#lucy bronze x reader#barca femeni#barca#barcelona femeni#barcelona x reader#lucybronze#lionesses#teen reader#eating disoder trigger warning#mental health#fluff#fanfic
733 notes
·
View notes
Text
some reassurance - aaron hotchner x gn!reader
in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.
content warnings: a little hotch aftermath of s2e15 (nothing goes into detail), no haley in this story but no real mentions about her, the team is kind of mean, aaron and reader literally flirting even tho reid just got kidnapped not too long ago. word count: 1.5k a/n: inspired by this post by @greg-montgomery ! my man is not a bully <3 also not proofread oops
he’s a classic narcissist.
he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.
what’s my worst quality?
i have no sense of humor.
you don’t trust women as much as men.
you can be a drill sergeant sometimes.
you’re a bully.
you’re sure that if the words of the events from the past 12 hours have been ringing in your head since they first happened, they’re probably ringing in hotch’s head, too.
but you’re also sure that he’s trying to play it as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t get completely verbally obliterated by his team members.
you lost count of how many times you had turned to look at hotch from the moment reid had chosen him to be ‘killed’ after tobias hankel had asked him to pick someone from his team. from the moment you had all figured out where the devolving man was keeping reid.
from the moment you had saved your friend, to the moment the case had been wrapped up, to the moment your boss had just now ordered everyone to take the weekend off right after arriving back to the quantico headquarters, despite immediately locking himself in his office afterwards.
you had contemplated saying anything from when reid had first chosen hotch as hankel’s sacrifice, and you contemplate saying anything now as you stare up at his office, the curtains having been drawn and the door closed ever since coming back, even when everyone else was gathering their things and was about ready to leave.
you didn’t know what it was about hotch or your relationship with him, but you had always found yourself protective of him ever since breaking through the ‘cold’ and ‘stoic’ persona the team had made up for him and crafting a genuine friendship with him.
you had been the first to follow after him when he had left the room with all the computer screens where you and your team had watched reid ‘choose’ him, hot on his heels trying to reassure him that the young genius wasn’t in his right mind.
it had been impossible, though, watching in silent horror and palpable confusion as he asked the rest of his team to list his worst qualities while trying to realize that everything spencer said was on purpose.
what emily had said, you had let slide. she was new to the team, and although you reassured her that all would turn fine in her journey with you and the rest of the bau, you couldn’t deny the lack of trust the others had in her.
derek butted heads with hotch the most and was the most brazen when it came to standing up to him, never afraid to call bullshit even with knowing that hotch was hard on him because he knew of morgan’s potential.
what jj had said, though, you didn’t understand. there had never been a time where you could actively recall hotch being purposefully rude or mean to anyone without it being called for.
he could put people in his place and humble an officer or two when needed, but he had never been mean to you nor to anyone else just because. so, when the words ‘bully’ left jj’s mouth, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows and send a glare her way despite the traumatic events she was still reeling through.
spencer had said himself that he knew hotch would understand, so you could only assume that everyone else had assumed the older man wouldn’t take anything personal, especially after being the one to ask the question.
you had only given his shoulder a squeeze seconds after he ordered everyone to get some rest, offering a comforting smile.
but you knew that wasn’t enough.
so, before you even registered what you were doing, you brush past the startled and confused stares derek and emily give you as you stand abruptly from where you had been perched on your desk and march up the stairs to hotch’s office.
the determination in which you made your way up there contrasted from the gentle knock you raptured on his door, waiting patiently for the deep voice to allow you to enter.
at the sound of his permission, you stepped inside, smiling softly when aaron looks up to glance at you.
he’s standing on the left side of his desk, shuffling papers together and sliding them into a manilla folder. he seems tense, like he finally let himself feel what he was trying to avoid back at hankel’s house, but, solely from the warmth of your smile, his shoulders drop and his body languages is immediately relaxed by your presence.
“i thought i sent you home?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he stacks the folders neatly on one of the baskets he kept in one of the corners of his desk.
you shake your head no, “not yet,” you close the door behind you gently, catching a peek of morgan and prentiss’ confused stares before turning to look at him.
aaron’s brows furrow at you closing his door, “are you alright?” he asks, stopping in his movements.
you shrug, “as alright as i can be, i guess,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. you feel yourself growing shy under his perplexed stare, but you push it down in order to ask, “are you alright?”
aaron blinks at you, the crease in between his forehead deepening even more, if possible. after a second, you can see the gears winding in his head before it all clicks together, the hardening stare he wore slowly dropping as he realizes what you mean.
“i’m fine.” he says shortly. you know from the many times you’ve accompanied other members of your team to check up on him that they would normally drop the questioning after that, but you weren’t like the rest of them. apparently.
“aaron,” you speak up, his gaze immediately flickering back up to you at your use of his first name, “i don’t think you’re a bully,”
your tone is genuine and comforting and he wants nothing but to completely delve into it. to bury himself in that same comfort and simply stay there as you whisper reassurances.
but the only thing he does in response is shake his head, continuing his maneuvering around his desk as a way to avoid what you were trying to do, “y/n, it’s okay.” he shakes his head, “i didn’t take any of it personally. gideon was right; reid wasn’t in his right mind during then,”
you shrug again, trying your best to get him to look at you without rounding his desk and standing right in front of him, “still. what jj said was pretty uncalled for,”
“well, i was the one who practically called for it,” aaron reminds you, looking up at you through his lashes as he continues to fix files.
you hum. you don’t know if what you’re trying to do is working or not, but you see the harsh lines around his brows soften and a faint pink bloom at his cheeks, one that makes your own face heat up.
“well,” you huff, “i also think that you’re pretty funny.” you shrug again, “really funny, actually.”
everything you’re telling him just now is true, but this is the most honest thing yet. derek, emily, and spencer all had their funny moments, yes, but aaron’s sense of humor was very similar to yours. and, to be fair, it didn’t come out as much due to him sticking to that false persona.
but when it did, you were the first one to understand the joke or the first to laugh and even the one laughing the hardest.
once again, aaron is frozen by your words, this time completely dropping what he was doing to stare you with bewilderment. he raises a brow, “you do?” his question is hesitant, like he doesn’t believe you.
and you know that he doesn’t. so you nod, “yeah,” you smile brightly at him, “you make me laugh a lot. even more than morgan.” this time you’re the one hesitating, taking a moment to wonder if what you’re doing is crossing a line between you and him. “or anyone else, really.” you tilt your head, “you’ve never noticed?”
aaron’s face is now a hot pink, and if it wasn’t for the sake of keeping up with his ‘stern’ facade, you’re sure he’d turn away and envelop his face in his hands.
he’s the one to shrug this time, “well, truth be told, i always get distracted by you.” a beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, averting his eyes to what you think is your shoes, “and your laugh.”
you beam despite the feeling of your face getting even hotter at his confession. you can’t help yourself from asking, “you like my laugh?”
“there’s a lot of things i like about you,” aaron admits, much more confident this time, a fond expression adorning his features.
you blush under his gaze, trying your hardest to conceal the wide smile that was threatening to appear on your face. you rock on your heels, hands folded behind your back shyly, “there’s a lot of things i like about you too, hotch.”
“aaron,” he says, not liking the way ‘hotch’ sounded after hearing you say his first name, “aaron, please,”
this time you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.
no, aaron hotchner wasn’t a bully at all.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#penelope garcia#jason gideon#derek morgan#maddie’s stills
656 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi honey, i love you so so much!!
what about stripper!reader with derek morgan?? he's on a case where strippers are being murdered, and while hotch is driving morgan calls you and tells you not to go into work because of what's going on, and emily is listening in on the conversation from the backseat and they tease him
thank youu!! love you!
ty for requesting lovely!! ilysm ♡
"I know you don't like listening to me, but could you do me a favour? Just this once?"
Emily leans over in her seat so Spencer can see her side eye. "Who's Morgan talking to?"
"Stay home tonight. No, this isn't a jealousy thing, you vixen–"
Spencer shrugs. "No idea. But–"
"But," Emily agrees. They've just left a crime scene with a specific victim, and now Morgan's on the phone asking someone to stay home. That someone would have reason to visit said crime scene's location, and the word vixen suggests female rather than male, which means, "Morgan has a secret stripper girlfriend."
Spencer's entire face takes his frown, eyebrows pinched, mouth quirked into a telling line. "I like the implausible," he murmurs, "but that feels illogical. Where would they have met?"
"Uh," Emily says, widening her eyes at him. "Where do you think, Spence?"
"Morgan doesn't need to go to a strip club."
Emily understands what Spencer's saying. There are lots of reasons that people frequent strip clubs or gentlemen's clubs and none of those reasons apply to Derek. It's possible he could go socially, but it's just so unlike him, it doesn't add up.
"I'm telling you the truth. I can't give you more detail than that, I just need you to stay home tonight." Derek pauses, laughs. "Alright," —his voice takes on a mechanical rendition, clearly having been fed a line he has to repeat aloud— "I, Derek Morgan, am an ignorant, jealous man, who can't cope with the fact that you don't want me, and am making up sad and childish lies to get you to stay home from your job. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, laugh it up."
Emily laughs and grabs the headrest as he hangs up on you, pulling herself forward to taunt him as is required. "Care to explain yourself?"
Derek sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you guys."
"What!" Spencer says, though his smile is more audible than his incredulity.
"So you have something to tell us?" Emily asks.
Derek knows he can't weasel his way out of telling them, and he doesn't really want to. "I don't have a secret stripper girlfriend," he says, rolling his eyes, "she's not my girlfriend. She is an exotic dancer at one of the clubs downtown, and I met her at Home Depot."
Emily isn't perturbed that Derek heard their gossiping. She's shameless. She doesn't even care that Hotch is frowning behind the wheel. "What was an exotic dancer doing at Home Depot?"
"Weirdly, Emily, she has a home. She wanted help finding renter friendly flooring."
"Can we meet her?"
"Never," Derek says with a smile. Emily couldn't know this, but he really likes you. You're sweet, super funny, and yes, you're a stripper. You work hard. Pole dancing is as physically demanding as any manual labour and you're damn good at it. "Ever."
Spencer interjects the ensuing argument with a statistical analysis of strippers who are homeowners (unfairly few), but Morgan doesn't answer, trying to read a new text from you discretely.
Sorry if I embarrassed you at work :( is it really not safe to go ?? Maybe u can come and be my bodyguard. I won't even make u tip me 4:10PM
He sends back, Really not safe. Stay home for me, relax for a few days. Call you tonight even if nothing changes 4:11PM
My hero <3 I trust u, but be careful OK ? and pls if it isn't too much trouble can u bring back some of those weird candies again? thank u thank u <3<3<3 4:14PM
Hotch makes a quiet sound of approval, eyes on the road. "The same girl you were with at Docklands? Rossi said she was cute."
"She is."
"Rossi met her?" Emily asks. "Oh, you're the worst."
#derek morgan#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan x you#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan x fem!reader#derek morgan imagine#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan fanfic#derek morgan oneshot#derek morgan scenario#derek morgan drabble#derek morgan fic#derek morgan fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
955 notes
·
View notes
Text
There's some kind of connecting thread - and I can't quite articulate what it is - between Laudna's reaction to Bor'dor's betrayal, her reaction to Ashton taking the fire shard, and Orym carrying Otohan's sword.
In all three situations, someone deeply, deeply hurt did something that was grounded in their personal grief. And in all three cases, Laudna's reaction was of extreme, personal betrayal. (This isn't critical of Laudna, btw; she's a fascinating character and I think Marisha is doing an incredible job of leaning into the reality of how trauma can make you act in heightened, messy ways that are very difficult for everyone around you.)
Everyone was hurt and shaken by what happened with Bor'dor and Ashton, and understandably so, but I think it's telling that Laudna phrased both events as, specifically, a betrayal. 'I can't be betrayed again,' as she drains the life from Bor'dor (as opposed to, say, Orym's attitude toward killing Bor'dor, which was less 'we need to kill him because he betrayed us' and more 'this is a grim necessity, because we are at war.') Ashton does something incredibly ill-judged, and Laudna's interepretation of it is 'they betrayed us.'
Orym takes Otohan's sword, and Laudna sees it, again, as a personal affront. She challenges him for having the audacity to carry it. The sword killed her. (It also killed half the people in the room, including Orym.)
Something... something about how Laudna saw Ashton trying to absorb a powerful magical artefact because he'd convinced himself it was the right thing to do, and felt so injured that she ran into the forest for a night. Something about how Laudna tried to absorb a magical artefact because she'd convinced herself that it was the right thing to do, and felt injured by Orym's defiance.
I don't have a clear point here; Laudna isn't a character I've studied as closely as some others (and I would very much appreciate anyone who has been analysing her more deeply offering any input!) But one thought I had is this: Laudna once said that the worst thing that could have happened to her has already happened. And I think maybe Laudna sees what happened to her as the worst thing that could happen to anyone. It seems hard for her to understand how much the actions of those around her - be it Bor'dor being radicalised, Ashton going about their attempt to understand themself in entirely the wrong way, Orym trying to reclaim a painful piece of his past and turn it into a promise - can be rooted in a pain that might be equal to her own.
Of course, it's hard to tell how much of it is Laudna at this point and how much is Delilah, but... honestly, it is such a bold choice for Marisha to do this. Because this is what trauma does. It makes things feel personal that might not be directed at you at all. It makes your grief into an enormous monolith that towers over your life, and can overshadow, in your head, anyone else's. It makes you want to protect yourself in every way possible when a flicker of it occurs again.
And... I think it's another sign of how much Delilah is taking from Laudna. Because who in this story has been fixated on their own grief and loss, to the point of ignoring the pain they cause in their attempt to fix that loss at any cost, than Delilah Briarwood?
#gonna keep thinking about this because i'm sure there's a clear connection and I can't quite put my finger on it#again: this is not critical of laudna as a character! please don't take this as an attack on her#just... trying to get inside her head y'know?#her actions are hurting people. i want to analyse what's up!#critical role#cr spoilers#cr3 spoilers#laudna
294 notes
·
View notes
Text
to hell with it
pairing jung wooyoung x f!reader
word count 5k
genres angst﹒smut﹒teeniest bit of fluff here and there
warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, all lowercase bc she was supposed to be short and vibey and… that just did not happen, mentions and use of weed, very strict parents, lowkey fuckboy wooyoung lol, lots of kissing, marking, scratching, wooyoung has a fascination with reader’s tits lol, nipple play, no real foreplay, unprotected sex, cowgirl and missionary style, dacryphilia, exhibitionism kinda, quite a few references to religious-ish themes, unrequited love in a sense? i got carried away im so sorry
summary you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell.
more ok… like i said… i got carried away oopsie 😝 this was a request from my lovely wife of 20+ years @juyofans <3 i’m sorry if i strayed too far from the original idea,,, it just happened ok 🙇 also a huge thank u to @bro-atz for betaing for me i LOVE U SO MUCH!! that’s all lets keep this note short and sweet :P reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
“shit.”
the curse slips from your mouth so naturally upon the discovery that your stash is completely finished. you rummage through the drawer one more time in case you might’ve missed something, but alas, you’ve run into the worst possible scenario. no more weed.
it’s not like you were dependent on it. but it was the end of a long week and it happened to be one of those days. an edible, a long rip from your bong, or a hit from a blunt wrapped with your pretty pink rolling paper sounded like fucking heaven right about now.
you still lived at home, though, and your parents had no clue that you dabbled with marijuana, so you had to keep everything hidden in your room. unfortunately, it was just too expensive to get your own place in this day and age. and despite the fear of getting caught deeply instilled in you, you were extremely desperate.
and well, desperate times called for desperate measures…
“hey, wooyoung…” you speak into the receiver.
your relationship with the guy was complicated. it had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with you. he’d been your plug for a couple years now, and his pretty face made it really hard not to develop a crush. every time you bought from him, you always tried to get a lot at once so you could space out how often you saw him to make things easier on your heart.
the two of you went to high school together, and the first time you reached out in regards to your secret habit was awkward. to say the least. all of your friends had purchased something from him at least once or twice, so they assured you that he was the real deal. but you had only ever mooched off of them and didn’t have the faintest idea what you were supposed to say or do. (what with having dictators for parents and the lot.)
you remember sending him a dm in the most cryptic way possible. he laughed it off, thinking about how cute it was that you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. but, like every other occasion in which you’d spoken to him, he had a girlfriend at the time. the first time it was haeun, then there was jisu, and it was kind of hard to keep up with the names after that. his patience was endearing, though, and it always left you wanting more out of your conversations. (which is, understandably, what attracted you to the guy.)
he was definitely not a one-partner, commitment type of guy, and that’s all you could ever want out of someone. you thought keeping distance to halt any feelings from growing was the smartest decision. if you didn’t get close to him, it would help squash whatever flame burned beneath your chest.
but now it was time for that little crush to unearth itself, as it does whenever you see him.
“hey, y/n, what’s up?” you can hear the smile in his voice, the one that has your insides melting and your panties nearly dropping to the floor in an instant. it’s almost cocky, like he was expecting your call. and he probably was, all things considered.
“um…“ you stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip, tilting your head back. “are you free to do a drop right now?”
the digital clock on your nightstand read 9:28 PM and your parents wouldn’t be home for another hour or so, having left for the movies a little over an hour ago. (that was the only reason why you were even thinking of pulling something as idiotic as this.)
not even were you just not allowed to have boys over. you weren’t allowed to have people over period, at least not if your parents were out. in spite of being a grown adult, they still managed to enforce strict rules and curfews on you. you were breaking so many by making this fucking phone call.
Do Not Think About Talking To Boys Under Our Roof.
“yeah, actually. i have to do another in the area so that works out perfectly. i can be there in ten.” he answers and that stupid smile pops into your head again.
Absolutely No Strangers Allowed In The House Without Us Present.
“okay cool— wait, you remember my address?” your brow scrunch together, the confusion boiling up inside of you. he snorts, some shifting audible in the background.
No Alcohol Unless We Are Present, Absolutely No Drugs Allowed.
“yeah? why wouldn’t i?” he asks so nonchalantly, you almost miss it. “i’ll be there soon, babe.”
he ends the call before you can even say anything, still holding your phone to your ear. your jaw hangs open and heat begins to bloom behind your cheeks. this was exactly why you were avoiding him as long as possible. jung wooyoung was a natural flirt, and you were very delusional.
this was fine, right? all you had to do was exchange the goods and money, then send him on his way. it would be like nothing ever happened, like no one was ever here. your parents would be none the wiser and you could finally relax. it would be just like when you were sneaking around in high school, having him drop when you didn’t have a car—
fuck.
you could’ve just met him somewhere instead, huh? you didn’t have the issue of being car-less anymore. you could’ve told your parents you were running out to grab some things from the store and hid it in your bags in case they were home before you. could’ve done literally anything else except act this irrational.
This Is An Honest and Trustworthy Household — No Lying Will Be Tolerated.
maybe, subconsciously, you’ve been wanting to see him in this setting again. there was a thrill in breaking your parents rules. you supposed something special, something exciting sparked under your skin all those times you snuck into the backyard to meet with wooyoung through the side gate. but right now, you’re pacing inside your bedroom. this wasn’t the time to get poetic and reminisce about being a schoolgirl with a crush.
you were bulldozing through just about everything on your parents’ list of Do Nots and you feel like you should be more anxious about it. for some reason you’re less afraid of pissing them off. you’re entirely too concerned with looking good for wooyoung, and you don’t even hear the shrill sound of your phone ringing.
wooyoung’s contact lights up the screen, sending all sorts of panic signals to your brain. you severely underestimated how long ten minutes was, and also how long you’d been standing in front of the mirror gawking at yourself like a damn fish out of water. this was embarrassing. you were better than this, god, you were so much better than to lose yourself like this over a man. but jung wooyoung somehow made all rhyme and reason escape you like he was some sexy version of the pied piper.
before you realize it, your feet have carried you down the stairs and to the front door. on the other side stand wooyoung, his backpack slung over his shoulder. he’s dressed in a red zip up hoodies and some baggy jeans. his hair is longer than when you last saw him, long enough to have some of the strands tucked loosely behind his ears. you think you’re entranced by his visuals alone, and then he opens his mouth.
”told ya i remembered.” his words drip with that charisma that sucks you in further, deeper, into the chasm you kept trying to avoid.
”uh— c-come in,” you usher him into your house and up the stairs into your room, just in case. “my parents aren’t home, but i don’t know if my neighbors are watching or something. and just in case they get back earlier, it’s easier to hide you in here than anywhere else.”
wooyoung nods with a snort, eyes wandering around the bedroom you’ve had since you were two years old. he’s never been inside of your house before, much less inside of your room. it’s very you; various posters littering the walls, makeup and skincare products cluttered around your vanity, comfy-looking sheets.
Definitely No Boys Allowed In Your Room.
“you know, y/n, i was pleasantly surprised when you called,” he shrugs off his bag, setting it on the foot of your bed, dragging his finger along the footboard. “i was starting to miss my favorite customer.”
just about everything but standing right here sounded ideal to you. if there were miraculously a sniper stationed on the roof of the house next to yours, you hoped you were in his line of sight and he would take you out. it was as if he knew. he knew exactly what his effect on you was, and that was absolutely perfect, now wasn’t it?
“your— huh?” you’re sure you sound stupid, especially so when he laughs, unzipping his backpack to take out what he was here for. the smell alone practically recalibrates your system and reboots you. wooyoung notices.
”we’ve never smoked together, have we?” he asks, pulling out the tube he was looking for. it’s about an eighth, which is less than what you usually buy from him, but you’re in no position to complain. you shake your head ‘no’ as he hands it to you, before pulling out another and doing the same thing. you raise an eyebrow at him.
”this is—“
”no, i know,” he purses his lips with a nod, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and swiping across the bottom one. “consider it a gift, for being so loyal to me all these years.”
you guffaw in disbelief. what the fuck?
”wooyoung, you can’t possibly—“
”just let me smoke you out this once. that’s all i ask in return,” he seats himself on the edge of your bed. “and we’ll even use my stuff. you can save yours for later. i’ll make it worth your while.”
you would be cutting it really close to the time your parents were supposed to be home. but he was so tempting. and you were so weak. so, so pitifully weak.
”okay…” you let yourself say. you let yourself divulge just this once. “but, remember—“
”yes yes, your parents. do you think this is my first rodeo?” he laughs, pulling out a little plastic baggie that appears to have pre-ground weed in it. almost like… he was anticipating this? when he reaches into his backpack for what you assume is wraps, you jump to grab your pink rolling paper. you’d been so excited to use it, you weren’t going to let this opportunity go to waste.
batting your lashes at him is the only way you know how to convince him, though it doesn’t really take much convincing. your rolling skills still weren’t the best, despite doing this as long as you have, so you watch in awe as wooyoung does it. his fingers move expertly, and you have to blink away the thoughts threatening to overthrow the sane ones that have been struggling to keep afloat.
wooyoung fishes for the lighter in his pocket, red like the color of his jacket. he lights the blunt and holds it carefully between his fingers. you think he’s going to take the first hit, but then he’s holding it to your lips, gesturing for you to do it. “ladies first.” he throws in with that obnoxiously attractive laugh of his. you hesitantly follow his lead, sitting beside him, then inhaling and filling your chest.
your exhale isn’t as graceful as you hoped it would be, a couple coughs coming out of you, but it was a strong hit. he rubs his free hand up and down your thigh to soothe you, hitting it himself. he’s definitely a lot more experienced than you, in what he does and how he does it, breathing it out into the atmosphere. your room is a little foggy now and you have half the mind to crack open a window, however, you’re hyper aware of his hand on your thigh. and you don’t want it to go away.
If Any Of These Rules Are Broken, You Risk Being Kicked Out.
it’s calm for a few minutes, just the two of you rotating the blunt in comforting silence, his hand still branding its place on your thigh. and then his thumb starts to move. it circles into your bare skin gently, kneading mindlessly. you almost let out a whine, but you catch yourself, concealing it as a cough instead.
“you like me, don’t you, y/n?” wooyoung asks, puffing out a thick white cloud and pouting. “that’s why you buy a lot from me at once. that’s why i sometimes only see you once a month.”
the question catches you so off guard, you almost grab the pink blunt by the spark. he sets it in your ashtray, conveniently placed on one of your bedposts. you stare at him blankly, because how fucking perceptive do you have to be to figure that out? your crush was probably a little more than obvious, sure, but the avoidant tendency you had couldn’t possibly be linked to that. not unless he truly knew you like the back of his hand.
he leans back onto his palms with a snicker, carding his fingers through his hair. the way he’s positioned allows you to glimpse at a bit more of his chest from the partially unzipped jacket. the only thing you see is that it’s bare, and your brain short circuits. it was already frying itself when he called you out, now there wasn’t a single functioning cell up there.
“i’m high like sixty percent of the time, i see everything. i know everything.” he answers your unspoken inquiry. and well, that may be true, but it’s not like you’re doing much to refute with the way you’re ogling at him. (you were a horny high, unfortunately.)
“what—“ you swallow, suddenly all too aware of how close you’re sitting, of how his grip on your thigh is a little more primal. “what if i said no? what then?”
“i’d think you were a liar,” he smiles, that fucking smile you can picture in your head even through a phone call. “and i don’t like being lied to.”
“so it’s a good thing i haven’t said no yet, right?” you breathe, voice entirely too stable for the situation. his hand rises higher on your thigh, the tip of his index finger brushing under your shorts. you glance down at it, eyes already heavy lidded as they observe the way it drags across your skin. fuck.
“mhm,” he hums, gauging your reaction to his touch. “it’s very good.”
you’re losing your patience the longer you sit there, tortured by wooyoung’s hand searing on your thigh. your heart seems to beat faster and you feel like you can tell with the rise and fall of your chest picking up in speed. his lips on yours is all that you want, all that you need, and under this spell (the intoxication swimming through your bloodstream), you’re willing to accept the consequences that may come with it.
a gasp escapes you when his nail scrapes along the side of your leg with the pressure of a feather. it’s overwhelming, to say the least. you want more and more and more, and then so much more until you can’t take it, but part of you is still insecure that he’ll leave you strung out on a clothesline if you indulge. you’re beyond thinking about the repercussions if you’re caught. you’re focused on the repercussions of being hurt if you give in.
but enough is enough.
placing your hand over his own, you slip it under your t-shirt where you’ve been braless this entire time. wooyoung’s eyes widen and you grab one of his hoodie strings, yanking him closer to you. your noses brush and your eyes meet, a silent ask for permission to finally play into what you’ve both been waiting for.
you don’t really give him a second to rethink it.
your lips connect in a rough, messy kiss that has you believing in the existence of a god. one that’s granted what you’ve been dreaming of for years. maybe after this you’ll start praying before bed again, especially if it always rewards you this well.
his mouth slots against yours like it’s the missing piece of a puzzle, your tongues tangling and your teeth nearly clashing. wooyoung’s hand on your chest regains its own control, squeezing your breast and flicking his thumb over a perked nipple. his other hand grips your waist, pulling you onto his lap. your knees dig into the mattress, hands cupping under his jaw and then entwining in his hair.
you sigh into his kiss, obsessed with this length on him. you’re sure he feels the same when he groans after you tug on it, deepening the kiss if possible. the sigh turns into a moan when he guides your hips into a circular motion, grinding you down on him to create a bit of friction and get the ball rolling.
he knows you don’t have a lot of time, maybe an hour tops, but fuck he wishes he could take his time with you. he wished he could explore your body and learn every single thing you liked and didn’t like, and use it all to his advantage. his senses are heightened so he’s keenly aware of your every sound, of each whine that escapes you.
wooyoung’s mouth travels from your own, along your jaw, and down your throat, nipping and sucking so he leaves his mark on you wherever he can. your lips part with a soft moan when he finds the sensitive spot on your neck. his hand is still in your shirt, kneading and massaging your tits like it was second nature for him.
your high has reached its peak, and you’re starting to get light headed from how good everything feels. if he didn’t touch you where you needed him most soon, you feared you might finish prematurely, and after all that you’ve been through to get to this point, you really cannot handle that tonight. thankfully, he seems to read your mind.
“i would love to make up for lost time, but i don’t think we can right now,” he pants into your skin, hands everywhere but somehow nowhere all at once. “let me just—“
“stop yapping and just fuck me, wooyoung, you’re wasting precious time,” you groan, going straight for the zipper of his jacket. you push the red material off of his shoulders in one go, practically pawing at the button of his jeans. he laughs at your impatience, but knows you’re right.
“well, when you put it like that, i don’t feel bad for the disgusting things i wanna do to you,” he teases, helping you pull your shirt over your head. “gonna fuck you so good, you’re gonna wanna see me more than once a month.”
the call out is crazy, but you don’t have the mental capacity to argue with him, head tossing back when he takes one of your tits into his mouth. you scrape your nails down the expanse of his chest and abdomen, a reprieve to the static buzzing throughout your body with wooyoung’s lips all over you. his teeth sink into your collarbone and you nearly lose your sanity. this was it, there was no going back now that you’ve fallen under his spell.
his skilled fingers make quick work removing your shorts and you’re so beyond restless, that he has a bit of trouble getting them down your legs. he stills your hips firmly, practically scolding you when he says, “sit still, pretty, i’m not going anywhere.”
it’s a weird reaffirmation, and in a way it calms your erratic mind. you finally let go of those reservations and allow yourself to submit to these feelings you’ve harbored for years. the heat of wooyoung beneath you is enough to make you squirm again, needing him inside of you before you start crying. (though judging by what he’s said so far, you think he’d like that.)
“god, i need you so bad,” you whine, lips locking with his once more. you speak the words into his mouth and they hold all the subtlety of an excavator, desperation hanging off of each syllable. “please…”
you can feel, rather than see, the conniving smile that graces his features, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. he’s dangling your desire in front of you like a ball of yarn with a cat, the bed of his nails dragging along your hips slowly and tortuously. you reach down to cup his erection through his boxers and that’s what spurs him on, dropping his mischievous act in favor of gifting you what you’ve been asking for so nicely.
wooyoung pushes your underwear to the side, kicking off his boxers so he’s bare for you. part of you is way more excited than you should be to fuck him raw, for the first time nonetheless. he leans back slightly and watches as you hover over his cock, sitting on it gently. he’s definitely on the longer side, longer than the other guys you’ve been with— not that there were very many to compare him to. he fills you up just right, tapping that sweet crook of your pussy when he sheathes entirely.
the moan that breaches the sound barrier fights itself from deep in your chest, tickling his ears and forcing out one of his own. his grip on your hips tightens as you begin to move. it’s more of him moving your body for you, not that you’re complaining at all. less work for you.
with each bounce on his cock, your bed squeaks and it wouldn’t be such a problem if you didn’t also hear the front door open downstairs. your eyes widen almost comically, meeting wooyoung’s with a fear so intense that it nearly scares him too. gratefully, he’s been in this situation before. he holds a finger up to his lips to shush you, simultaneously flipping the two of you so your back is flat on the bed and his feet are planted on the floor.
you’re glad you had the clear mind to lock your door when you came up to your room. you don’t know if it’s because it’s wooyoung, or maybe you’re just into it, but you feel yourself getting more turned on as he continues to fuck you despite your parents being home. he covers your mouth with his hand, rocking his hips into yours with a purpose. his free hand slithers between the two of you, thumb rubbing calculated circles into your clit.
”take it,” he rasps into your ear, nipping the lobe softly; a contrast to what’s tumbling out of his mouth. “take it like the good girl you are.”
at that same moment, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. wooyoung doesn’t stop, in fact, he speeds up his pace, pushing your thigh to your chest so he plunges deeper into your cunt. he’s evil, pure evil.
”y/n, are you in there?” your mother asks.
”y-yes,” you gasp, willing your voice to stay steady. “i was getting ready to go to s-sleep.”
“you sound off… are you feeling okay?” she expresses her concern and you look to wooyoung for help.
you bite down harshly on your lower lip when he leans down to suck on one of your tits instead, still very roughly snapping into you. he urges you to say something anyway, so you can at least get them to leave you alone. “y-yes! i’m fine! i was just looking f-for my pajamas!”
he laughs lowly so only you can hear, gazing at you through his lashes and whispering, “should we tell her they’re on your floor?”
your mother doesn’t question you any further. ”okay… goodnight, sweetheart.”
”goodnight!”
her footsteps get quieter as she walks away from your door. the shit-eating grin on wooyoung’s face contributes to the growing ache in the pit of your stomach more than it pisses you off. unfortunately he just had that effect on you. it was hard to be mad at him when he made you feel like you were lit ablaze, fire burning all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“look at you, sweetheart,” you hate that the pet name has you clenching around his length. his lips trail down your body, worshiping it like you were his own personal goddess. “you’re taking my cock so perfectly.”
if you could scream, you would. you’d be as loud as possible so your whole block knew who was fucking you this good. you’d chant his name like a prayer, which was ironic considering he was, in a sense, more like an incubus. you could draw several heaven-hell parallels from this moment in time, from the way wooyoung buries himself inside of you, and you always return to the idea that he’s straight from hell. the way he lures you in, like the serpent with eve in the garden of eden. he has you turning your back on all forms of reason.
but this inebriation, this sweet poison coursing through your bloodstream as applies practiced pressure to your clit, has your whole being soaring. you could care less about the trouble that comes with it, especially when it has your back arching off of your mattress and into his chest.
your lips pry open in a silent moan when he presses up against that same spongy nook in your pussy. tears well in your eyes as they roll back, spilling down the sides of your cheeks. wooyoung kisses them away and fucks into you harder, inching closer and closer towards what you’re already on the precipice of.
having gone nonverbal after nearly getting caught, it requires so much energy for you to croak out, “‘m so close, woo, so so close…”
he hums approvingly, back at your mouth now. his lips mold with yours so smoothly and your fingers tangle in his hair so easily. you want this forever, to be his in more ways than one. but after tonight, you don’t know how likely that is to happen, and you’ll let yourself be satiated by this one time.
you’re lost in the sensation of his kiss, disappearing in the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt without restriction. and maybe this would’ve been so different had you not been high. maybe this wouldn’t have happened at all had you been sober. your vision is hazy and your head is clouded, but you’ve never felt so liberated.
wooyoung grazes his nose against yours, a stark contrast in the behavior he’s exhibited tonight. even as he does so, his lower half is still pounding into you without mercy. and for some reason, that tenderness is what has you slipping through the cracks. your orgasm washes over you with no warning, crashing and colliding into your being almost violently.
the fluttering of your walls around his cock has wooyoung finishing right behind you, lashes skimming the tops of your cheeks in butterfly kisses that prolong the climax of your release. it’s much more intimate than you expected, your heart swelling and your body shivering with its implications. he slows his pace to something steady, something that just metaphorically holds your hand through your orgasm.
as you recover from the weight of it all, you realize that you’re still crying. wooyoung attempts to swipe away your tears with his thumbs, but when he notices that they aren’t stopping, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. he slides out of you and back into his boxers, scouring your bedroom floor for your t-shirt. he sits you up gently and cups your jaw in his hand.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, uncharacteristically serious. you’re used to him being playful and joking about everything, so for him to show genuine concern about your emotions means a lot. a lot.
“i’m okay— i’m fine, i’m just being weird.” you dismiss his worries though, since it’s true. he doesn’t owe you anything and you don’t want to guilt him into anything just because your crush is a little heavier than the schoolgirl crush he’s made it out to be. he shakes his head. he’s not having any of that.
”no, you’re upset about something. don’t water yourself down like that.” you don’t like that this is fueling your delusions, don’t like that you want him so much more than you thought you could. and maybe you could’ve stopped yourself, had you not looked at him. your gaze traces from the beauty mark under his eye to the way his hair frames his face.
“i want something i can’t have,” is what you settle on, swallowing down that bitter pill that you’ve been avoiding tonight. “and i think i’m finally coming to terms with it.”
wooyoung searches your expression for thicker substance, as if that will hint towards a clearer answer than what you’ve given him. he finds it in that painfully sad smile of yours. he finds it in the heartache swirling in the pools of your irises. you know he didn’t mean to lead you on. it’s not his fault, really. you understood what you were getting yourself into. none of the blame can be placed in his hold, because it doesn’t belong to him.
”i should go,” he says after a long stretch of silence. “before either of us get into any trouble.”
you watch as he dresses himself quickly and exits through the window, taking your heart along with him. but it would be okay. you wouldn’t have to see him for another month anyways.
at least, that’s what you tell yourself as you reignite the blunt sitting in your ashtray.
© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#atzhouse#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez wooyoung#ateez jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung#jung wooyoung x reader#jung wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#yunhoszn
322 notes
·
View notes
Note
This isn't a gotcha, so please don't take it as such, but would yuou be willing to explain what it is about VAL that makes her such a favourite of yours? I can't stand her myself, she comes across to me as a bully given god-like power that she abuses for her own amusement, and I've seen you acknowledge as much, but we draw completely different conclusions from that. I just want to understand your perspective.
i've been anticipating a question like this for a while now, so i'm more than happy to answer for you!
you're right, VAL is in some ways a "bully given godlike power" as you put it, and there's no avoiding that (nor do i want to). and yeah, i do like her in part because of that, because i have a fondness for horrible fictional characters and in particular "bad victim" archetypes, of which VAL certainly is one. but i think what makes her compelling to me, rather than repulsive, is that she is fundamentally a cautionary tale and a tragedy. in-universe, she's the scapegoat. the example. the "make the right choices or this could be you". she's inescapably, heartbreakingly human in her awfulness, and that makes her terrifying, but it also makes her deeply sad (at least to me).
i also strongly believe in rehabilitative/restorative justice, so for me, wanting better for VAL is about my real-world principles to a degree. i can't and won't argue that VAL doesn't function as an uncomfortable allusion to a lot of atrocious crimes against humanity (by humanity) within the narative, and that anyone who finds her upsetting or even hateful for these reasons is absolutely justified in doing so. however, she's still a fantasy entity at the end of the day. she's not a 1:1 stand-in for real-world abuses any more than, say, a vampire or werewolf, which plenty of people are more than happy to explore the nuances of. and there's also the question of what punitive measures would even achieve in her case, beyond personal satisfaction for the one administering or spectating them (which is not to say that wanting to punch VAL makes you as bad as she is, just that her arc is, among other things, about how cycles of abuse and violence perpetuate). the worst that could possibly happen to her has already happened. she's been tortured. she's been taken advantage of for her mistaken belief that working for and with the system has the opportunity to benefit her, and died for it. there's nothing to be "learned" from her punishment that hasn't already been shown to us. that she hasn't already internalised. if she were ever to develop a stable conscience, that would be punishment enough in my opinion.
despite being a victim of people not entirely unlike VAL, i personally am not her victim, so treating her with sympathy and kindness whilst acknowledging the elephant in the room that is her many (fictional) war crimes is not something that requires any cognitive dissonance on my behalf. i would cautiously argue that the narrative agrees with me somewhat in this regard - the few times VAL is treated to a genuine act of kindness with no ulterior motives, it shatters her composure and outward conviction that what she's doing is necessary for her personal satisfaction, and even prompts her to reconsider on occasion (sparing the woodsman comes to mind). i'm not saying anyone needs to hug her and tell her she's valid, but if all it takes is some genuine good intent to get her to engage in introspection, i'm willing to be the person to offer it.
#ummmmm yeah. i like her. thank you so much for the ask though! id been wanting to talk about this#VAL thesiltverses
180 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Jedi were completely justified in in the Wrong Jedi Arc (Part 3)
Part 1 here and part 2 here if you want to review the charges.
Now we're onto the Wrong Jedi episode proper. First off, the Jedi Council are in a tough spot but aren't rushing to judgment. All they say concerning Ahsoka is that there's evidence she was behind it.
Because you know, there is. Thanks to her.
Anyways the questioning begins! Ahsoka pleads "not guilty" and says that "I'd never innocent lives. The values of the Jedi are sacred to her."
Ki-Adi-Mundi: "There is evidence to the contrary. You were alone with Leeta when she died, can you explain this?" This is a completely reasonable question to ask. There is evidence against her, so he wants her to explain what happened to the woman she's accused of murdering.
Ahsoka Tano: "Someone used the Force against her." Technically true but also useless, they already knew the Force killed her. The question is who was responsible. Ahsoka's got nothing.
Plo Koon: "Which leads us to Ventress, can you explain your association with her." Again, an entirely reasonable request. Ventress is only the other Force user who appears to be wrapped up in the case, one known for violence. So Plo Koon asks what her connection to the case is and why Ahsoka was working with her.
Ahsoka Tano: "We... Had a mutual understanding. I thought she was helping me." Wow, even in court she can't stop making herself sound suspicious. Being vague and dodgy is the worst thing she could possibly do right now. If she was upfront about being frightened and acting irrationally they'd be way more likely to believe her.
Mace Windu: "Did she help you acquire the nano-droid weaponry found with you when you were apprehended? The same devices used in the bombing of the Temple." An entirely fair question to ask. She was found with bombs after being seen working with a Sith Assassin, of course they're going to wonder about that. Not to mention that the question itself accuses Ventress more than Ahsoka, and doesn't even call Ahsoka's intentions into question yet. It's just Mace trying to establish the facts.
Ahsoka Tano: "No! I was set up, someone deceived me as you are being deceived now!" ??? Ahsoka you idiot! You're not explaining ANY of your actions, all you're doing is throwing out broad claims about being framed without giving them any reason to believe or trust you after all the crimes you just committed.
Mace Windu: "The question is, Padawan Tano. Who is deceiving us? Ventress, you, or someone else." This question cuts to the heart of it and shows that the Council ISN'T throwing Ahsoka under the bus. They KNOW someone's messing with them and are attempting to figure out who it is. They haven't decided Ahsoka's guilt and are open to the idea that either Ventress or a third party is playing them.
This would be the perfect opportunity to Ahsoka to take a deep breath and try to explain her actions. If she did she might've convinced them. Instead?
Ahsoka Tano: *Angrily* "I am not deceiving you! I would assume Ventress is, but I can't know for sure. My sense is, clouded." She has an emotional outburst to being suspected of a crime, after committing multiple to even get there. She still doesn't explain her actions and her brilliant detective work failed to turn up anything at all that the Council could use. If only she'd stayed in her cell.
Yoda: "Clouded by the dark side, these things are, Padawan Tano. Dangerously clouded. But not just surrounding you, surrounding many things in these times." Here Yoda straight-up sounds like he's trying to encourage her. He assuring her that the dark side is obscuring things for everyone, not just her. If he was wanted to accuse her of being guilty he'd jump at the chance to say she'd fallen to the dark side here. Instead of trying to coax her into a state of calm so she could give clearer answers.
Anakin Skywalker: "You've already made your decision haven't you! This meeting is just a formality!" I don't know where Anakin got that impression but he's known for irrational, anger induced outbursts so I guess it's in-character for him.
Yoda: *Sighs* "Reached a decision, we have. Though not in total agreement are we." So the Council wasn't even unanimous on this.
Mace Windu: "It's the council's decision, that Padawan Tano has committed sedition against the Republic and thus will be expelled from the Jedi Order." An entirely logical outcome given her prior actions and silly behavior at the meeting itself.
She gave the Jedi nothing to work with, dodged all their questions, didn't discover anything while she was on the run, and basically left them with no excuse whatsoever not to turn her over to the Republic authorities. Great job Ahsoka!
Oh and Dave Filoni's bizarre mutation of Barriss Offee was actually so sloppy that Anakin almost immediately solved the entire case once he wasn't distracted by Ahsoka's nonsense. So again, if she'd stayed in her darn cell he'd have resolved the entire problem in the course of a single episode.
That right there, was apparently so terrible it justifies Ahsoka holding a grudge for thirty years and saying the entire order deserved to be slaughtered.
Honestly, instead of having Ahsoka be offered knighthood they should've had the Council stand by their decision to expel her at the end for her dark side behavior while on the run.
#Star Wars#anti Ahsoka#anti Ahsoka Tano#Ahsoka critical#Ahsoka Tano critical#The Wrong Jedi#TCW critical#The Jedi Council#Pro Jedi#Jedi defense#In defense of the Jedi#Anakin Skywalker#Mace Windu#Pro Mace Windu#Master Yoda
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
Magnus to Alec
Dear delectable muffin of love,
I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.
More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.
But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.
I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”
As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.
I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.
Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.
Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.
But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.
I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.
It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.
And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”
“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”
Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.
“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.
“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.
And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.
So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”
“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.
I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.
Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”
I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)
It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.
Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.
“What?” said Emma.
“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”
“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”
And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.
Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.
“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”
Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.
Emma said, “What ring?”
Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.
“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.
“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.
“Wedding band?” said Kit.
“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.
“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.
“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”
Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.
“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.
“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”
“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”
“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”
And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.
We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”
I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.
And I’m certain they will.
See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.
Love,
Magnus
#sobh#secrets of blackthorn hall#rupert blackthorn#magnus bane#alec lightwood#julian blackthorn#emma carstairs#kit herondale#made a change to the ring
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
How do you think the companions would be with a tiefling gn Reader who's insecure about their horns and tail / just in general being a tiefling? Idm which companions!
•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•
How would they react to a tiefling Tav who's insecure about being a tiefling?
(Little note, I personally love tieflings, I think they're so pretty)
.
.
: ̗̀➛ ASTARION
“Oh, poor thing, you’re gorgeous! Whoever told you weren’t? My, you’re simply the prettiest little tiefling I’ve ever had the pleasure to see, and trust me, darling, I have seen many.”
Baffled that this would be something you’d be ashamed about. I mean, he’d tell you to your face if you were hideous but he hasn't now has he?
He doesn't quite understand what's there to be insecure about, you look just fine in his eyes but if you need his honest opinion then he’ll give it to you.
He thinks tieflings are fascinating in their own right.
With long curled horns, rigid skin, and a gaze as intense as the fiery pits of hell, you’re not exactly the worst thing he's seen.
He’s not a poet but he’d show you how much he adores every inch of your body to prove just how stunning you are in his eyes.
Damn anyone who says otherwise, he’d reject the heavens in favor of a more hellish embrace that comes in your shape.
He really likes touching your horns/grabbing onto them, he’d never explain why but the texture of them under his cold fingertips is something he pleasantly enjoys.
: ̗̀➛WYLL
“Love, you are above the heavens itself. No angel could compare to the warmth I have found in your every touch. You’re someone I am proud to call my lover, horns and all.”
He gets it, I mean he was turned into some sort of devilish fiend by his wretched patron.
He understands how it could make anyone feel insecure. The horns feel heavy, your skin isn't as smooth as most, and there are cases in which people easily judge you for what you are.
Though, are those reasons to make him love you any less? Absolutely not.
You looked at his transformed self and still chose to love him, so of course he’d do the same for you. In fact, he loves you even more now.
He’d call you beautiful in every way he knows how, concealing each thought of you in words that all come to praise everything that you are and more.
Besides, there's something rather poetic about two devils dancing in the moonlight.
Would compliment every part of your body you feel the most insecure about on a daily basis so that perhaps someday you’d love yourself the same way he loves you.
He’d fall in love with you and those fiery eyes again and again if he could. You hold his heart.
: ̗̀➛GALE
“No magic can compare to the spell you’ve cast upon me. Akin to a moth drawn to a flame, I will gladly fall into your fiery embrace.”
Upset that you view yourself in such a way.
He understands that a bad light is often shed amongst tieflings but he didn't think it would affect you to this degree.
He’s completely in love with every bit of you, he can't bear seeing you hate yourself like this.
If anything, this gives him more of a reason to praise you more, going above and beyond to make you feel like the god/goddess he sees in his eyes.
He’d speak in loving whispers about each and every part of your body so that not an inch of you goes unloved.
He loves staring into your eyes, they dilate and pulse in a way that bewitches him to a point where he’d rather meet your gaze than look up at the stars.
You could describe yourself in the most downright horrendous way possible and he’d still look at you with the most smitten expression you've seen a man hold.
He’ll help you get over your insecurities little by little, doing everything he can to make you see yourself as the specialty you are.
: ̗̀➛KARLACH
“What?! Why would you be? You’re only the greatest thing that's ever happened to me! The hottest thing to come into my life! You’re amazing.”
I mean she gets it, there's a dark stigma around tieflings that she faced herself. For a long while, she was seen as this brutish devil who’d kill children!
But tieflings can be cool, she thinks tieflings can and are badass! There's nothing else like them.
Would constantly reassure you that there's nothing you should be ashamed about, you’re amazing as hell and she loves you for it.
Fuck anyone who tries to slander you for who you are, she’d gladly set them ablaze.
The constant heat she feels on a daily basis is nothing compared to the burning feeling you give her. It makes her go weak at the knees.
Very direct about how much she loves the way you look, it's impossible for anything she says to be a lie.
She’d scream it out loud for the hell of it, making sure all of Faerûn knew how gorgeous you were with all your devilish little features.
She thinks the tail and horns are hot, nothing you say can make her ever think otherwise.
She’ll love you until every part of her body burns into ash in the hopes that by then, you will have learned to love yourself.
: ̗̀➛SHADOWHEART
“Hm. Well, I suppose we all have our own insecurities… if it makes you feel any better, I think… no. I know you’re beautiful. You’re beyond every loving word I could ever use to describe you.”
Surprised by this but she doesn't take it against you. Instead, she’ll find her own little ways of helping you out of your insecurities.
The stigma around tieflings is bad but it is something she herself can relate to with once being a follower of the goddess Shar and the misconceptions that come with it.
Gentle reassurances of your appearance and her love for you would constantly come unprompted.
She’d notice you sadly staring at your horns in a reflection and she wouldn't hesitate to walk up to you and remind you about how pretty they are.
If she sees you scratching and your rigid skin, she’d come up to you and gently take your hand into hers, proudly confessing how much she adores your skin.
She wouldn't bombard you with compliment after compliment but she'd certainly be there if the self-hate gets too much.
She would carefully drag you out of that darkness just as you did for her.
She’d gently drag her fingertips across your horns and every rigid part of your skin, entangling her hand into your tail if not for a simple display of affection.
There's not a single part of you she hasn't come to adore and she’ll make sure that in time, you’ll come to adore those parts of you too.
: ̗̀➛LAE’ZEL
“Insecure? How could someone like you be ‘insecure’? Your mind has no place for such degrading thoughts. You’re better than that.”
She doesn't quite grasp the concept of being ‘insecure’ about something other than it being a sign of weakness hence her confusion at first.
She sees you as a brilliant warrior, someone she deeply admires, how do you find yourself hating anything about yourself?
She sees no reason for your self-loathing and may across as rudely direct such as telling you to simply move past it.
But soon enough she’ll realize how much these ‘insecurities’ of yours may be affecting you and go out of her way to try a different approach.
She’ll start off by saying how being a tiefling doesn't make you any weaker or lower than anybody else, in fact, you are more than worthy of praise and respect.
She believes every part of you is attractive, you’d never have to worry about her ever falling out of love for you.
Besides, aren't tiefling’s fire resistant? That's another thing you should be proud of, some do not have the privilege of being able to withstand strong flames.
It's mostly listing every advantage your body holds against others before ever so subtly squiggling in an actual sweet compliment that she sort of hopes you don't pick up on.
She couldn't have asked for a better partner, you are far better than anything she could have wished for and she wouldn't have you in any other way.
: ̗̀➛HALSIN
“Nature has built you in the shape of beauty, my heart, every part of you was intended to be loved. Even the prettiest of roses are put to shame in you’re presence.”
He looks more hurt than you by the newly found information.
He believed nature had made all its creatures perfect to every single degree, that includes you.
He could hardly bear hearing you degrade yourself in such a way, not when you’re the most precious thing he's ever laid his eyes upon.
He’d have to sit you down, and allow both of you to discuss your insecurities and where they could have possibly stemmed from.
After which he goes on an entire monologue about how deeply infatuated he is with you and everything that you are, horns and tail included.
If anything, he thinks your horns and tail are adorable. You’re the very peak of beauty in a world filled of glorious things.
He’ll compliment and praise every part of yourself you've come to hate until you’re a speechless, blushing mess.
Try convincing him otherwise and you might as well faint from the amount of sweet little whispers he’d be sending your way.
There is no way he's letting you get away from this without feeling like the most loved thing on this planet.
•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 headcanons#bg3 headcanon#bg3 astarion#bg3 karlach#bg3 halsin#bg3 lae’zel#bg3 wyll#bg3 gale#bg3 shadowheart#bg3 x reader#astarion#karlach#halsin#lae’zel#wyll#gale#shadowheart
277 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi :) I've never requested before and am a little embarrassed to be here. But I'm also in my Spencer Reid Brainrot era and am a fan of your writing! I was thinking something with a virgin female reader who is genophobic (specifically fear of vaginal penetration, in her case) and Spencer helps her work through her fear and try something new? She doesnt need to have trauma, just the phobia. Either BAU or non BAU reader is fine, just as long as they aren't initially dating and there is a slow build up to the intimacy. Also, could it be race-blind? (e.g "I could see she was embarrassed" instead of "her cheeks turned pink") Fluff, smut, and mutual pining. Ack, please it would make my MONTH!!
-❤️🩹
A/N: I really hope I did this one justice!! It was fun to research and write and ahhh the slow burn (which was definitely a lot faster than it should have been if I had more time 🫣 sorry). I hope you like it!
W/C: 5k
Warnings: Genophobia (fear of sexual intimacy), panic attack, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), virgin reader, inexperienced Spencer, two idiots in love again, vaginal sex, fingering, contraception actually used! Mainly soft and sweet sex 😊
Find my masterlist here! Get ready for kinktober with me here!
It was your worst nightmare come true.
You’d had a crush on Spencer for the last three years, working with him in the BAU since Elle had left. You’d joined the team alongside Emily and immediately become enamored with the boy genius, and how could you not? He was smart, and handsome, and most importantly, he respected boundaries.
But here he was in front of you, probably saying the words that you most wanted to hear from him, but he was so close, your heart was beating uncomfortably in your chest, your breath short and your eyes hazy and unfocused for all the wrong reasons.
“Just… If you don’t feel the same, I understand and I’ll never mention it again, but if there’s any chance that you.. That you love me the same way I love you, please tell me.” He had you boxed in against the wall, not touching you exactly, but so close you could feel his breath on your neck, could see the desperation in his eyes as he poured his heart out to you.
The man of your dreams was confessing his love to you, and you were on the verge of a panic attack at his attention.
“Spencer, I have to go,” you gasped out, grasping your chest as you begged your lungs to start working again, as you begged your mouth to stay and explain. But the tears were burning in the corners of your eyes and you had to run from the intimacy of the moment. “I have to... I’m sorry, Spencer, I can’t…” You didn’t get any other words out before you bolted out the door, desperate to find a bathroom stall to cry in. You weren’t sure if the tears were from the very real fear you’d just confronted or the realization that you’d probably just ruined your chances with Spencer Reid.
–X–
A week later, and the awkward tension between the two of you hadn’t dissipated. You wanted to explain yourself, of course, you did, but with the hurt look on Spencer’s face shooting through you every time you were at the other end of his gaze, combined with the absolute fear of being known and judged, you had guiltily kept your mouth shut.
The rest of the team had noticed, of course. The two of you were sending pining looks after one another whenever the other had their back turned, even when preoccupied with a prolific highway murderer, the team would be blind not to see it. Unfortunately for you, the members of the BAU weren’t the ones to let the tension go unconfronted, so you found yourself in increasingly solitary situations, alone but for the company of Spencer himself.
You’d been assigned to work the geographical profile with Spencer, despite usually working alongside Hotch, more used to comforting and interviewing families than analyzing charts and maps. The opportunity to explain had been handed to you on a silver platter, and you had to take it.
“Spencer, can we talk?” You blurted the words out after an unbearably long silence, having watched the man read case file after case file while you distractedly bumbled along beside him.
He paused and gave a small nod, bringing his head up, but not quite meeting your gaze.
“When you… When you said those things last week, did you mean them?”
“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Y/N.” The words were tense, but his voice was soft, his eyes holding a resigned look.
“I’m sorry... I’m sorry, shit, everything I say is going to sound like an excuse but I’m so sorry…” you rambled, trying to work up the courage to say what you actually wanted to.
“You don’t have to apologize for not feeling the same way I do. It’s okay, I know I’m not the easiest person to love and-”
“You are. You are, Spencer, don’t even think that you are the problem here, because you are not.” You gasped for breath as you pushed the words out unexpectedly, surprising even yourself with the conviction of your tone.
“I love you, Spencer, I do, I just…” You blinked back the tears again as your voice suddenly became a whisper.
“You know when we talked about our… our fears a few weeks back? And I said that I didn’t have anything specific that came to mind?” He listened attentively as you stuttered out the words.
“I lied. When… people get close to me, and when they get close to me in a way that specifically suggests that… suggests that they like me the way you like me, my chest gets tight, and I can’t breathe. Spencer, I’m… I’m scared of sex.”
You let the confession hang in the air between you, almost afraid to look up and see the sympathetic look in Spencer’s eyes. But you had to eventually, and you were surprised.
The man wasn’t even looking at you, and his expression couldn’t even be described as concerned, let alone empathetic.
“Spencer? Did you hear what I said?” He looked up and smiled at you, keeping his distance still, but opening up to you, facing you with open body language, putting all his attention on you without moving even an inch closer.
“Genophobia. Y/N, you’re describing Genophobia. It’s the fear of physical intimacy that often stems from a fear of pain during sexual intimacy or from physical symptoms, such as Vaginosis. Y/N, you don’t hate me.” His grin widened, and you let out a little laugh at the hopeful look on his face as he breathed out that last statement.
“No, no Spencer, I couldn’t hate you.”
“Good, because I thought I’d taken it too far… Nevermind. Y/N, is… is this something you want to work through?” His tone was cautious, and you were touched by the seriousness he was approaching with. Your previous boyfriends had mocked you when you explained why you couldn’t have sex with them, few as they may have been. You’d never been treated with such gentleness.
“Yes. I really want to work through it, but… Spencer, it might take a long time. Is that okay?” He considered your question for a minute, then replied with his own.
“Y/N, can I lean in and kiss your cheek, please? I won’t touch you anywhere else, I just want…please?” You felt a warmth bubbling under your cheeks at the situation, your tongue growing thick in your mouth, not allowing you to respond. You opted for a small nod instead, watching his every move as he slowly moved in.
Placing his hands on the table, he lifted himself up from his chair, keeping them firmly planted there so you could see that he wasn’t going to initiate anything further. His lips finally hit your cheek, and your heart started beating in that familiar way that it usually did, but you forced yourself to hold still until he pulled away. He did so quickly.
“Y/N, I don’t care how long it takes you to be comfortable with me. I’m just happy you chose me.” He finished, then grabbed a file and exited the room, leaving you alone again to calm your heart and un-fog your brain.
–X–
The case closed a few days later, but you didn’t have another chance to talk to Spencer anymore about your relationship, being so caught up in serving justice to the families of the victims. But as Friday approached, your job was finished, an unsub handed over to the authorities ready for prosecution, and you could finally fly back home.
Which is how you found yourself, on the last evening of the work week, pacing outside of his apartment, freaking out about whether you should knock or not. You’d held your hand up to knock a few times, but ultimately let it fall to your side, cursing your cowardice. It was just a door. He was just a man. A man who really cared about you. A man who wanted you. That thought should have had you jumping into his arms at every given opportunity, instead, it was causing heart palpitations at the thought of knocking on a door.
In the end, you didn’t have to knock.
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” You heard his voice from behind you as you jumped in place, startled by the fact that he was actually there.
“Shit, Spencer, don’t do that, you scared me.” You grabbed your chest and took a deep breath. He stood still, waiting for your answer to his previous question.
“I was just… Can I come in?”
“Oh. Oh, yeah of course, here let me…” His words trailed off as he grabbed his keys from his pocket, fumbling them slightly as he struggled to get the key into the door.
“Take a seat wherever you… Can, I guess? Sorry, I was doing some reading before I left.” He smiled awkwardly as you walked into the space, and you giggled a little at the confession, seeing that there was really only one open space on the couch left for you to occupy without having to perch awkwardly on the arm of the chair.
You took the seat, moving a single book onto a stack on the sofa next to you, and watched the man as he took off his scarf and coat, storing them and then awkwardly turning back to the couch. He looked around for a place to sit, and, coming to the same conclusion as you did, chose to perch himself on the opposite arm of the sofa to you.
“Oh, Spencer, this is your house, you should sit comfortably.”
“No, you’re a guest, it’s fine. I want you to feel comfortable. What did you want to talk about?” He cleared his throat a little and then turned his eyes back to you, signaling that he was ready to listen attentively.
“Oh…. I was hoping…. Spencer, can you touch me?” You saw his face flush at your suggestion, and your eyes widened at your own foolish wording.
“Shit, not like that. Not that I don’t want you to touch me like that, but I think it’s too soon, and I’m still not comfortable with that. I was just hoping that you could, you know, hold me for a while, like a hug or something?” You rambled it all out, and you could hear yourself rambling but you couldn’t stop it. The words dropped from your mouth before you could even think about stopping them, and you felt the blood rush to your head as you cringed slightly at the situation.
“Okay.”
“Okay? You’re…. You’re okay with that?” You asked, looking hopefully up at Spencer.
“Do you want to sit together, or were you thinking something else?” You jumped up from your seat then, and glanced around the room as you considered his words.
“Oh, um, sitting together would be good I suppose?” He nodded and lifted himself up from the arm, moving closer to you.
“I’m going to sit here, you should probably just join me when you want to, okay?” He whispered the words with a tender smile on his face, and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders disappear. It was incredible that he could do that with a simple smile, that with one glance he could relax your whole body enough to let you push yourself to the limits of your fear.
You gained some confidence, and after letting him get settled in the seat you had just vacated, you moved to straddle his lap. You heard his sharp intake of breath as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, nervously wondering if what you were doing was right.
“Is this okay for you, Y/N?” He asked, stuttering through the words as he struggled to stay focused on you.
“It’s okay now. I want to push myself a little.” You ran your hands down his arms, which had so far lain politely still on the sofa beside him before you pulled them around yourself, letting the hug deepen. He was warm, and between the two of you, you weren’t sure whose heartbeat was louder. You could hear both of them, the room totally still except for your breaths and blinks.
“Y/N, can I… can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” You whispered the word in a voice so small, you were sure he hadn’t heard it, as his head crept towards you so slowly you were sure he wasn’t moving. Eventually, you felt his breath on your skin more, and then his lips were softly pressing against your own, the pressure gentle, not demanding any more than what you were currently giving him.
You melted into it, pushing yourself further into his warmth, your chests now pressed together as he languidly moved his lips against yours, claiming them again and again and again. You kept pushing and pushing into him, growing more sloppy in your kisses, grabbing onto the back of his sweater with two desperate fists, needing him close.
It wasn’t until your hips bucked involuntarily in his lap, unconsciously demanding friction that you began to panic once again, immediately pulling your lips and torso out of his reach.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I can’t… it’s… shit it’s not you, Spencer. God, I’m such an idiot.” You pulled your hands over your eyes, embarrassed at the thought of being seen by him right then, but still firmly seated in his lap.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face with a gentle touch. “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.” You nodded at his words and took a few more minutes to compose yourself.
“Can we…can we just cuddle for a while? Like this?” You asked, and his smile instantly became bright.
“I would love to. Let’s move some of these books though.” You shifted the books quickly and then fell back into his lap, his body now laying more vertically than before, stretching out into the larger space now available on the couch. You pushed your head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat, following it with your own, and letting it be the soundtrack to your descent into sleep.
–X–
Waking up in his arms was a life-changing experience. Sometime during your sleep, he had carried you to his bed, letting you sleep soundly as he made you more comfortable. He hadn’t taken any of your clothes off, of course, just removed your shoes and made sure you were warm enough in the skirt and blouse you had been wearing.
Your position had changed, too, and it was one of the first things you noticed as you blinked your eyes open, trying to rid them of sleep as you greeted the new day. Instead of being below you, he was behind you, pressed against you with a hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him like a child clutching a favored toy.
“Spence,” you whispered through a grin. “Spencer, wake up.” You turned your head around to him, but he moaned in his sleep, not wanting to leave his rest just yet. You giggled at his childlike petulance, trying to shift around to face him, but his grip was too tight. Pushing against him, you felt something, hard, pushing against your back. You shifted again, but it was still there, and it took you only a few more seconds to figure out what it was.
“Shit, Spencer, wake up,” your tone probably sounded more frantic than you felt, as it woke him quickly now, his body releasing yours enough to let him pull himself up, taking stock of the room as he looked around searching for what had panicked you.
“What is it, are you okay?” He returned his eyes to your face, but your gaze had slipped down his body, and through the much looser fitting sweatpants he’d thrown on at some point during the night, you could see the outline of his cock.
Curiously, the very sight didn’t have you bolting, as it had in situations in the past. You had frozen, of course, but you weren’t filled with as much dread as you had been only a few days prior with his confession.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s a biological reaction and… well it’s not purely biological, I do really have feelings for you, but I don’t want you to feel pressured, and… Let me go and get rid of this.” He moved to stand, but you grabbed his arm before he could completely pull away, his hand still resting on your waist.
“Wait… Could we continue from where we were last night?” You looked up at him, the embarrassment of your words sending a rush of adrenaline through your body, almost forcing you to take them back immediately.
“You… you want that?” For the second time in 24 hours, a whispered ‘yes’ was all it took to have him crash his lips into yours. The pressure was the same, but with his body hovering over yours, it felt even more intimate. His hands rubbed small reassuring circles on your hips, as you opened up to him, wanting to pull the full force of his weight down onto you.
His hand fell to your face as he encouraged you to open your mouth to his tongue, letting him explore it thoroughly as he lazily worked his mouth against your own. There was no fight for dominance here, just two people deeply exploring the feeling of one another, so wrapped up in the pleasure that no other thoughts could cross your minds. Not even that of fear.
He pulled away for a breath, and your lips trailed him, trying to capture him again and force him back to you, but he evaded you softly.
“Y/N, can I try something? I want to touch you…more. Is that okay?” You were so desperate for the feeling of his lips against yours again that you moaned out the yes before you even processed his words. His lips fell back against yours, but his weight shifted above you as his right hand trailed down your leg and then back up underneath your skirt.
The touch was so delicate that you shivered under the attention, but you felt your heart start beating faster and faster as he got closer to your center. He asked you once again, and you agreed before he finally touched you through the safety of your panties.
You moaned into the kiss as he cupped you, letting his thumb fall to your clit and beginning to explore you more. He swallowed each and every sound you made with his lips, committing every move you made, every reaction to memory. You grew more pliable under all his attentions, growing comfortable in reacting to his every movement, letting him control the pace and flow of your shared caresses. A heat was growing at the depth of your stomach, and you knew it was coming.
Your brain finally kicked back into gear as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes jolting open as he released your mouth, the breathless moan that erupted from you causing your entire body to tense up. You pushed him away, and clutched your chest, scrambling up into a seated position as he quickly noted the change in your body language, letting you out of his grip.
You struggled to get your breathing out of control, desperately searching for a way out, an excuse, or anything to say to make you feel better, but you came up blank.
“I’m sorry… I’m really…” You couldn’t force out any other words before you jumped out of his bed and bolted out of the apartment, having ruined everything again for the second time.
–X–
Another week ticked by before you knew it, and you still hadn’t talked to Spencer since he’d pushed you over the edge. The fact that he hadn’t tried to talk to you either had you convincing yourself that it meant whatever you shared was over now.
It was a nice feeling to share, but you couldn’t keep it up forever, just like you hadn’t been able to in any of your previous relationships. But there was something about Spencer that you didn’t want to give up on, so you didn’t.
You spent the week looking up advice on how to deal with your fear, booking appointments with Sex Therapists, and, to put it kindly, getting your body used to the idea of sexual interaction. You bought a small vibrator a day or two after you slept over at his house, nothing that would enter you, just something to play with to increase your confidence as you prepared yourself to apologize to him.
But despite all of your efforts, the tension was still running high in the team as they all noticed the sudden disconnect between you and your maybe-boyfriend.
So, with the newly discovered commitment to self-improvement, you found yourself at his door again on another Friday night, this time confidently knocking at the first attempt.
“Y/N, you’re here.” He said, mouth hanging open slightly as his unasked question hung in the air.
“I wanted to talk. About everything.”
“Sure, come in, come in.” He shut the door behind you, and you didn’t bother walking further than the entryway before you started again, not wanting to lose your conviction.
“Spencer, I want you to make love to me. I freaked out last time, and I ran away, and that was so shitty of me, but I think I’m ready now - I went to see this therapist and she gave me some advice, and I’ve been… I’ve been touching myself so I can get myself used to the idea of someone else touching me. And you’re the only person who I want to touch and to touch me, and you’re everything I’ve been thinking about, and I don’t want you to avoid me anymore or think this isn’t going anywhere.” You were almost breathless as you finished, having let your sentences blur into one, not bothering to pause in your exploration.
“Oh, thank god,” Spencer said, wrapping his hands around you suddenly, pulling you to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. “Well, not thank god that you want to have sex with me, thank god that I didn’t push it too far. I thought you hated me after last time, I thought I was trying to selfishly get you to open up too quickly, and I felt so bad about it.” He rambled just the same as you had, not letting go of you for all the world.
“You know, I’ve checked out like 50 books on sexual psychology from the University library this week, I was afraid the librarian was going to call the police on me for creepy behavior or something.” He laughed into you, letting his head drop to your shoulder as he held you comfortably.
“Spencer, that is so sweet.” You felt the sugar in your grin, knowing that this unabashed happiness wasn’t going away anytime soon, any negative feelings at being held this closely dissipating when faced with the love of his actions.
“I’m going to ask again, is that okay?” You nodded at his boyish grin, and he grinned down at you fondly.
“Y/N, may I kiss-” You didn’t let him finish, pushing yourself up on your toes to lock your lips with his before he could.
“Yes. Always yes.” You said releasing him, foreheads resting together.
“I know, but I like to ask.” His lips were on you again then, as he walked you back through his apartment, not stopping once to release your lips. Before you knew it, he was picking you up, and gently returning you to the bed you’d bolted from the week before.
He released you for a breath, and you pushed your top up and off, throwing it to the ground as he stared at you like you had personally each and every star in the sky.
“You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” He mumbled the words into your skin, before letting his hands once again fall under your skirt, beginning to massage your ass with a firm but still loving embrace. He pulled you against him again, your kisses becoming more and more needy as you felt him grow against you, with each stroke of his tongue forcing your hips to rub together deliciously.
“You know,” he spoke slowly, letting his lips fall down your neck and chest. “All of the literature I read suggested that foreplay was a good way to combat Genophobia. The more prepared you are for the actual sexual act, the less you worry about the ‘pain’ of it all.”
“What are you saying, Spencer?” You whispered, your heart beating fast, but not in an uncomfortable way anymore.
“I’m saying I want to make you feel good. Can I?” His lips had reached your skirt then, and he said the words as his head rested against your thigh, hands slowly pushing your legs wider and wider.
You nodded, and he dived in, at first licking through your underwear as you moaned and writhed underneath him. His hands worked the panties down your legs as he kissed your inner thighs, pushing your skirt up and over your hips so you could watch his every move.
“Fuck Spencer,” you ground into his face again as he returned his tongue to your now soaking hole, desperately chasing the pleasure of his attention. You’d had the time to explore this week, obviously, but it was nothing like this. Every kiss, every suck, every lick, spoke a thousand words to his devotion to you, his love being pressed into you from between your legs. You didn’t know it could be like this. You didn’t think it would be with anyone who wasn’t him.
“Spencer, I can feel it…. Spencer, don’t stop.” You worked a hand into his hair and shamelessly bucked into him now, you high hitting you just like you knew it would. If the first time had been a surprise, this time had been an inevitability. You felt him keep up his ministrations, letting you ride out the full wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, he looked into your eyes for confirmation that everything he’d done was okay. Moving a hand to wipe your arousal from his mouth, you stopped him mid-motion and pulled him back on top of you, wrapping your tongue around his own and delighting in the taste of his success.
“Let’s keep going,” you said softly into his ear, and he moaned his approval, before quickly divesting himself of his pants and grabbing a condom from his bedside table.
“Morgan got me a pack of these at Christmas, as a joke, y’know,” he laughed, kissing down your neck again, paying special attention to the few spots darkening to splashes of red.
“Not the time, Spencer,” you laugh at him, and he squeaks out an apology before lining himself up with you.
“You’re sure this is what you want?” He asks, a concerned look plastered on his face, and you pull him down for one short tender kiss before answering again.
“I have never been so sure of any decision I have made in my life, as I am sure about you.” He pressed a kiss to your lips in thanks and then slowly began to fill you up.
There was a small panic in the back of your mind, but he kissed praise into your skin, replacing all of your negative thoughts with nothing but his words, his actions, his love. You relaxed as he stretched you out, not moving his hips but letting his hand return between your legs to help you further adjust to the newness of it all.
You saw a panicked look fall across his face as he kissed away small tears that fell from your eyes, each a small apology for the pain, the confusion of your mixed emotions, but you just laughed his concern away.
“Happy tears, Spencer. They’re happy tears.” He laughed with you then, and with one last seeking out of your approval, you began to move together. His thrusts were slow, lavishing you with attention, letting you feel all of him as his body sought your pleasure. Your legs wrapped around him, unable to stop the desperate need to buck up, up, up with each of his downward strokes.
You were a mess of limbs and kisses, neither of you experienced enough to know how to do anything past what felt good, what felt natural, and you spent your time together like that, giggling with each chaste kiss, moaning and sighing as you both worked your way up to an ecstatic release.
Falling down on top of you after you came together, Spencer didn’t pull out, holding you somehow closer than before as you both let the oxygen return to your lungs.
“I love you,” he whispered into your lips.
“I love you,” you whispered back.
Yes, it was not going to be like that with anyone else. And you didn’t want anyone else at all, now that you finally had him.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds smut#requested#❤️🩹 Anon
701 notes
·
View notes
Note
*Mentalizing collage mingyu for valentines day*
oh we are so back besties....
(not technically valentines day but the same idea.... aha)
College!Mingyu – Ghosting and Balloons
no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable
[College!Mingyu Masterlist]
He hasn't replied to her texts.
He always replied to her texts. Even if he was busy — reacting with a heart or the !! feature Apple had so kindly coded into their imessage.
What could he possibly be so preoccupied with that he can't even bother leaving her on read – her message staying on delivered.
She knew he wasn't at practice.
It was Saturday... at 8pm.
There was no reason for him to be ignoring her either. Even when she was on something, pushing his buttons, he never ignored her.
That wasn't the case this time. They were having a proper conversation right before he had gone MIA. Her last text to him was asking if he wanted to grab brunch with her the following day.
Which was sent nearly 2 hours ago...
Chewing at the loose skin on her bottom lip, Y/n closed out the messaging app; tossing her phone away from her with a groan.
This was exactly the reason why she loathed the idea of having feelings for someone.
She hated how much it consumed her; over analyzing every single word and action that was being said back and forth.
It had only been about three weeks since that God forsaken night. And though she said it herself that their confession's didn't change anything, it did.
Within hours she felt the sudden shift between them. She was welcoming of all his hesitant touches, allowing him to pull her closer against his body whenever they stood, not bothering to bat an eye whenever he played with her fingers — pinching the tips as he babbled on about his day.
More importantly, the shift in the way they talked to one another.
The banter still remained, not letting a single minute pass without teasing him about his spelling errors or his lame jokes he would send over.
But she also have taken notice how much softer his voice has become whenever it was just the two of them. The first time she heard that tone, her knees nearly gave out from under her — grabbing his upper arm to stabilize herself.
Just as her brain was about to conjure the worst case scenarios possible – ones that included Mingyu ignoring her for someone else.
Some other girl.
The familiar assigned ringtone began to blare loudly from her phone.
"Yes?" She answered with a sigh.
"Come out." She couldn't see him but she could tell he was smiling – brightly. He always did seem to be smiling a little to wide whenever he was on the phone with her.
"No."
"Wha– Y/n please."
"No."
"Is it because–"
"Yes." Y/n replied shortly.
She did say she had standards, and though he ticked off many of her boxes; she was sure she wasn't going to let anything slide.
Even if it was petty. It wasn't like she wasn't going to give in anyways. She just wanted to give him a hard time.
Like she always has done.
"Y/n," Mingyu's voice softened. She could tell his smile had faded. "I'm sorry, but if you come outside you'll understand why I wasn't able to answer my phone. So please just humor me this one time?"
Damn him and that stupid voice.
"Fine." Y/n grumbled, hopping off of her bed – bounding for their dorm building's exit.
She didn't know what to expect but it was definitely not Mingyu leaning against his car... holding a bouquet of tulip balloons.
This still didn't explain why he had left her on delivered for nearly three hours.
"You've got pollen allergy and I uh– wanted to ask you something." He answered her silent question.
Her frown remained as she stood a few feet from him, debating whether she would give in to his kind gesture or continue with her stubborn act.
"Would you be my Valentine?" Mingyu held out both his arms, a small pout on his face – he was hoping that maybe it would make up for going awol the past few hours.
And god was he right.
"Valentine's day is next week." She bit back the smile as she took the balloons from his hand.
"Tiktok said I should ask before the fourteenth and I– the stupid flower legos were sold out and so I thought maybe this would be better but then it was so hard to make because they kept popping and I–"
Y/n couldn't help but giggle at his quick rambling, watching him shift his weight from one leg to another in nervousness. She could clearly see how he was regretful of his actions – and considering how well the bouquet was put together, there was no doubt he had gotten too preoccupied with trying to make sure that it came out perfect.
"Yes."
"Oh thank god." He let out a sigh as his shoulders dropped. "I'd love to go get brunch with you, by the way. On one condition."
"You have conditions now?"
Mingyu nodded. "Dinner? On me?"
"Gross." She stuck her tongue out.
"You're gross!" He gasped, instantly catching on to her joke. "Unles– Ow okay ow!"
"You're insufferable, you know that?"
"This girl I'm talking to have mentioned it once or twice."
"That girl also said she's close to ghosting you."
Mingyu shook his head. "No, I just spoke to her and she said she's actually head over heels for me."
"Is she a gymnast?" Y/n replied without missing a beat, earning yet another pout from the boy.
"I don't like this game."
"Let's go, lover boy." She snorted, getting on her tip toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek before letting herself into the passenger seat. "I want sushi."
Mingyu stood dumbfounded in his spot, feeling the heat of her lips linger on his skin – reaching up to touch where she had made contact with him.
Maybe he needed to make flower balloon bouquets more often
PERMANENT TAGLIST
@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
May or may not have been inspired by this pic.....
#WE ARE SO BACK BABES#dont we just love a stubborn oc.... aha ._.#spamquests#college!mingyu au#mingyu x reader#mingyu x oc#mingyu drabble#mingyu fluff#mingyu scenarios
198 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hurt (Simon Riley x reader)
Summary: John calls you to the hospital where you get shocking news.
Note: part 2 of Surprises. / i know, i’m evil. my poor boy. / if you want to know when i post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notification button.
John called you, asking you to meet him at a hospital as soon as you could. You assumed something had happened to him, that he got injured. So you rushed there with your heart racing, your mind already in a spiral because of the images of worst case scenarios. But he called you himself, it couldn’t be that bad.
A broken leg, maybe. That you could help with. You could move in with him temporarily to make sure he was okay.
But when you met him in the hospital building, your brows furrowed in confusion. He was okay. He was standing there with a nervous look on his face, arms defensively folded over his chest.
“What’s going on?”
He hesitated for a few moments, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s Simon,” he said eventually.
Simon? You didn’t understand. Why would they call John if something happened to him?
“Listen, kiddo, he got hurt on our last mission. Badly,” he added to make sure you understood the seriousness of the situation.
But your mind got stuck on one particular word. “Our?” you asked with a frown, trying your best to remain calm. “I thought you only met at that family gathering.”
John took a step closer with his arms stretched out to take your hands in his. “I didn’t want you to worry. We’ve been working together for a few years now, so yes, I already knew him when you introduced him to us,” he explained.
You couldn’t believe they had been lying to you for over a year. But John said he had been badly injured, which made you forget about this for the time being. “Can I see him?” you asked your uncle.
“Yeah. He doesn’t have any family so I convinced the doctors and nurses to let you in.”
He led you to the ICU, asking the nurse he had apparently talked to earlier to let the two of you inside for a short while. It was a tough negotiation with her, but eventually she agreed to give you five minutes for now. You hesitated at first, but John soon realized this and squeezed your hand in support.
Simon was unconscious, tubes were hanging from different parts of his body, and the sight broke your heart. Your precious Simon was so badly injured and there was nothing you could have done to make it better. You were lucky John was there with you, because without him guiding you to the chair next to the bed, you would have collapsed onto the floor.
“What happened?” you asked quietly.
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“Right.” This is what you hated about his job. Their job. You never knew where they were, you never knew how long they would be gone, and you never knew how they got smaller injuries. “What did his doctor say? Will he be okay?”
John put a hand on your shoulder as he stood behind you. “He will survive this,” he replied.
“But will he be okay?”
“They don’t know.”
Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath. Why did it have to happen? Why him? Couldn’t it be someone else? “I can’t do this, John. Not now.”
“Why? What’s going on now?” your uncle asked you as he moved to look into your eyes.
“I’m pregnant,” you admitted. “I found out last week. Actually, you’re the first person I told about this.”
John let out a troubled sigh as he scratched his beard. You knew it wasn’t the right time to announce it, but you had to tell someone. Sure, it would have been better if it was Simon who found out first, but… Well, it wasn’t possible at the moment.
Your uncle wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you against his body when your tears began to fall. “It’s okay, kiddo, I’m here for you until he returns to us,” he assured you.
“Do you think he can hear us?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” he added, probably realizing he should be giving you hope in this situation.
You nervously licked your lower lip and leaned closer to the bed to take Simon’s hand. “You’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay. I need you to meet your child, I need you to be there for them, and I want you to see them grow up. And I love you so, so much, you can’t even imagine,” you said through your tears. “Please, come back to me.”
“Your time is up,” the nurse informed you, her voice now soft and understanding.
Nodding, you stood up and leaned down to place a kiss on your boyfriend’s forehead. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
John put a hand on your back and guided you out of the room, stopping you from resisting and staying with Simon. You were grateful for that. You needed his support. Once you were outside in the parking lot, he came to a halt and gave you a worried look.
“Can you drive like this?” he asked. When you nodded, he went on. “I’ll go to your place with you and wait until you gather some clothes for a few days. You’re staying with me, okay? I don’t want you to be alone now.”
“Thank you,” you told him before giving him a hug. He had always been there for you, and it was comforting to know this hadn’t changed.
#simon ghost riley#call of duty#modern warfare#mw2#simon riley#ghost#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john price#captain john price
391 notes
·
View notes
Note
I knew you'd like the idea >:3
Just imagine the characters having an intervention meeting without the creator and they bring THAT up and the notebook along with it and the entire room just goes to silence and no one know how to bring the fact that close to half of the deaths later on were of their own creator's hands.
You're right though, I def think that Sumeru would actually make the problem worse and potentially cause a relapse in which case another nation takes over and Sumeru is seen as worse or inferior for causing more pain to the creator (like the little hypocrites they are smh)
Imagine there's some pages on the old notebook of just describing how they felt and the reader can see the slow descent to madness as each death happens and it's like forbidden knowledge for them to the point that it actually like becomes risk of being lethal, so they kinda stop looking into it and just try their best to heal their creator and just leave the skeleton in the closet, per say.
I forgot to put my little thing on the last post but here it is again! I have way more ideas for sagau that i will probably never get to write so i'm happy to share them!
🍌anon
🍌 anon I want you to know that I am eating everything up cause MY GOD THE WAVELENGTHS WE'RE HAVING AAAAA
And ohhhhh ohhhhhh forbidden knowledge, your brain rn omg. CHRIST ALMIGHTLY
Some of the notes would actually be forbidden knowledge, especially if we're talking the early ones and if the creator was isekaied before Sumeru's archon quests. Omg- NO ONE CAN READ THE FIRST COUPLE OF EDITIONS, besides for Traveler-
Wait....this just made me realize something. I FORGOT TO EVER THINK ABOUT THE TRAVELER, WHAT ROLE WOULD THEY EVEN HAVE??? OH GOD HOW COULD I OVERLOOK THIS WAIT
Putting a pin in that for later (slamming my head against the wall over this)
But yeah Traveler is probably the one that creator would be closest too, because they have to be the first ones (besides Nahida or Neuvillette) to know the truth. So when the notebooks are found they're the only ones allowed to read it. So they would be at the meeting and conveying what is necessary but also keep the important parts our for the sake of the creator's privacy and to keep the forbidden knowledge from infesting again.
What probably keeps them at an advantage is the language creator uses can only be read by Traveler since Teyvat's language is usually translated for us in game in our own languages.
And also yes Sumeru would be worst, glad we agree. BUT THAT'S ONLY BECAUSE OF THE AKADEMIYA, Azar fucking sucks and would never understand. BUT- if we're talking with Alhaitham being the acting leader then there's a higher chance for them. Especially with the other Sumeru characters being there, and Nahida!! Nahida would be a godsend since she obviously would have the most knowledge, both known and unknown, and also would be able to peer review others ideas based on when she's read the memories of the creator (poor baby got traumatized tho-)
PLUS! Kuni (Wanderer name I use, making sure that's known) being our body guard, ain't no way creator is dying even if it is their wish. Combine that with Cyno also on guard duty and you got a chance of healing way better then whenever Azar (fuck that guy seriously) was in charge.
#sagau#genshin sagau#death seeking creator#others ideas#also i am very happy youre sharing this with me#i love hearing peoples ideas#this is why this blog is a dumping sight for ideas#let us all scream at each other over every potential a story could have#🍌anon
135 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi could I please request a Lute x GN! Reader where Lute and reader get into an argument before the failed extermination and reader dies?
( if you aren’t comfy please ignore this ask ^^ thank youu )
But huge warning? This is a darkish fic. Like its detailed- kinda
I'm gonna mix this with an idea I was actually making similar to this request if you don't mind♡
Warning(s): cannibalsm(..there's cannibals around), blood. War. DEATH(a littke detailed) like? Implied what's happening. just? Very sad, slight toxic relationship?(lute doesn't understand-)
Lute x Reader
Fights were common. Especially in relationships. Only difference in heaven given how usually no one fights. Unless your lover happened to be lute.
Most fights with lute don't typically end with a screaming match. But in this case, it did. It was the worst fight you've ever had with her. You assumed it was from whatever Adam did. But now? As your pacing ignoring her as she screamed her head off at you. You don't know.
You don't even know what triggered her violent self. Sighing, you shook your head. "Lute. You're a cruel woman, " which? Set her off into a rose tantrum, sighing, rubbing your head at the growing headache. From these arguments, you opened your mouth to apologize just to get this over with
"Drop dead Y/N" she snarled out before freezing. Everything became quiet as you stared at her, confused, shocked? You didn't know what to feel. Turning you did what you should have done.
You walked away
-
Not once since your fight did you go back home. You didn't want to talk to her. Fight anymore, especially now as you trained for the next battle. Going to the hotel itself.
Frowning, you sighed, ignoring how Adam himself moved to try and convince you to talk to Lute "no Adam. She knows she fucked up. She needs to apologize, " you snarled, glaring at his attempt to again fix you both up. Walking right past him you sighed.
You both knew? Lute would never apologize. Her pride is too big.
If anything, she expects you to apologize to her for starting something(even though she did) closing your eyes to ignore the regret. Ignore the need to find her. Kiss her. Tell her everything is going to be fine- wrap her in your wings and hold your mate. But you don't. You walk right past her training
She needed to do it. You won't hold her hand through this. It's her responsibility to take care of her mistakes.
-
The battle was a mess. It's a huge mess. Everyone was dying. Angels demons - all around you was just blood shed.' Your missing leg was evidence of this matter. Closing your eyes behind your broken mask, you smiled. Lute would be fine. She's safe. She'd get out
That's all that mattered to you
You prayed Lute wouldn't find you. Prayed she would just fight leave with Adam like usual and just go home during arguments. Just have faith you'd come home.
Your lip quivered as memories with her flashed through your mind. All the good the bad. Everything. As footsteps and cackling was heard around you. A tear ran down your face
"I love you lute" was all you could say before hands grabbed at you.
-
Lute was in a panic flying around the blood shed searching high and low for you. Where the fuck can you have gone? Snarling easily sliced a demon, not even looking before she paled getting pissed the usual Lute as she stared at you cornered by cannibals watching you' as If? They were waiting for something to happen.
Lute flew fast, which was hard given the state of her bleeding wing plus missing arm? It wasn't gonna be easy "YOU LET THEM GO YOU FUCKER" she screamed filled with rage and panic.
Please. Don't take them- not them
Tears mixed with her blood as she landed on the ground on her two feet, rushing forward to fight to save you before hands pushed her down those bloodied cannibals forming around the two of you like a ring.
PLEASE- DONT FUCKING TAKE THEM. Is all that's going through her mind. She lost Adam. She was too late but- not you' not her dove. Not her lover. Not her life
"UNHAND THEM -" she screamed out as panic setting in once more as she - too weak from blood loss - was pinned forced to watch as the cannibals above you began their meal. Tearing your once gorgeous white wings off that gold blood splattering everywhere
She couldn't hear anything besides your screens. God. Those begs of Freedom and someone else's screams - before she realized the one screaming was her as she screamed bloody murder. Screamed for you to be let go' to get a chance at life. You didn't deserve this. "TAKE ME. IM THE ONE YOU WHAT NOT THEM THEY DONT DESERVE THIS PLEASE -" How pathetic. Her once cold, strong, commanding voice now broken hoarse clear pain as she begged for your life
She couldn't help but scream even louder as they mauled you like some starved animals given a meal for the first time in weeks. As if I had never been fed before - screaming loudly, she didn't stop until she no longer could anymore.
Until she tasted the blood eyes closing, no longer able to look at your mangled body. How bone poked out chewed up like dogs eat their bones. Hiding her face into the dirt screaming muffled that sickening crunch of bones shattering
She doesn't remember what happened next. Doesn't remember grabbing your halo with Adam's clinging to then as someone dragged her away. Looking she sobbed, unlike how Adam had a body. There was none. Just a golden ground. They ate you. Every single piece. Clothing and all. The only way she knew you were there was for the halo they allowed her to grab. The blood on the floor, as the cannibal who watched her licked the blood
She's going to make them pay. Screaming in rage. She'll make them all pay. She'll kill every single one of those fucking demons. Those vile things. She'll avenge her boss- Adam. And more importantly, avenge you. Her one and only love
Staring at them all, she spoke for the final time full of venom. Hate. "I'll kill each and every one of you"
-
Later, as she sat on your shared bed, unable to look in your side of the bed, she let herself grieve alone. Sob for Adam. But here and now? She sobbed for her true love. The one who would COULD own her heart. Soul and all.
The last interaction she had with you made her sob harder. Why was she cruel? Why was she such a fucking bitch? She didn't deserve you. She couldn't protect you. Hell, she couldn't even show she loved you -
As she held the picture of the two of you, she choked sobbing out, "I didn't even say I love you-" The last thing she ever spoke to you, her lover? Wasn't a gentle thing, but rather her telling you to drop dead. "I'm so sorry, my dove -"
And you did.
And lute? Has to live with that. Forever.
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
PLATONIC YANDERE WEASLEY FAMILY HEADCANONS
They're very protective of each other, that's for sure. Molly might be the first one to meet you, or the Weasley children at Hogwarts. Heck, you might not even be related to the Weasleys and they'll still think of you as one of their own when they see the chance to make you theirs for good, you're just too naive and innocent for this world. And no doubt Harry and Hermione would play roles in helping them with their obsession with you as well since they are yanderes for you after all
Arthur would LOVE to talk to you about your knowledge of Muggles if you know about them that is. But don't worry, there are still plenty of other things he'd LOVE to talk to you about. It's actually kind of nice and adorable seeing him get so excited whenever you bring up the topic of Muggles, the way his eyes shine and light up with excitement like as if he's some sort of kid in a toy shop. But Molly has to be there to rein him in in case he makes you feel too overwhelmed with his questions. Arthur doesn't care if you're pure blood, related to them or not, half blood, muggle or heck even if your dad is Voldy himself. Unless of course, you're good. He'll still look after you like his own and care for you, and of course, keep you far far away from the prying eyes of the evil Malfoys and dangerous things like Death Eaters and concerning yourself with the activities of the Dark Lord
Bill is the chill and easy going brother who'll understand how you're feeling since he's a pro at it and he's also the oldest Weasley, he's the brother to 6 siblings of his. He's a good listener and always has good advice for you whenever you need to ask him about something and he'll also love it if you talk to him about his work and stuff. And he'll also tell Fred and George to lay back off a bit if their pranks become too much to which they'll apologize instantly. They would never think of hurting you, not even in their worst nightmares. And if you were brought into their family by force, he'll know how you're feeling and he'll make sure to always be there for you no matter what. Oh, and no dating, NONE of the Weasleys would ever allow you to date someone at all. Nope, you're their precious little baby and they don't want some riff raff tainting your innocence
Molly is a really coddling and protective yandere for you. She'll always make you nice hot lunches and meals when you need them, she'll always give you the comfort and love you need from a mother and of course, she'll get jealous when you talk about your past family. You just can't seem to hate her no matter what since she's being so nice to you, hating her would literally be a crime. She looks after you so well and that's actually part of a plan she has in mind. Oh, yeah, she's crafty too. She wants to win over your love and affection by doing these sweet things and all that, but she does truly genuinely care for you. And if you ever mention the name of someone you like, I seriously pray for that poor schmuck, be it boy or girl since I believe in gender equality lol
Charlie loves you as well and he's the adorable nerd, who'll like talking to you about dragons and stuff. Like Bill he's also laid back and easy going, and trying to make you feel more comfortable with the family. He'll tell you funny stories from his time in Romania, some of the hilarious things his brothers and sisters have done, their embarrassing stories and stuff that'll be sure to have a smile on your face. He would literally cry if you wanted to enter his field, he'd be so freaking happy and pleased, no doubt he'd actually say "IN YOUR FACE!" to the rest lol
Percy Weasley is the uptight stick in the mud, the spoilsport and sometimes the killjoy but he truly does want what's best for you despite him being arrogant and pompous. He tries to be a good example for people and his family but it's frustrating when no one follows him or even strives to be like him. He'll try to get you under his wing before the twins try corrupting you. He'll help you with your homework, ask you how your day is going and if anyone's bothering you, he'll teach them a lesson. He knows he isn't supposed to use his status as Headboy for personal reasons but he won't tolerate it if someone decided to make his sibling feel bad about something. And if you guys are at Hogwarts, he'll make his duty to check in on you every single freaking day and act like some sort of pompous watchdog for you
The fun loving Weasley twins, who love pranking you and the others, but will never go too far with their pranks for you since they would never want to see you cry. They're the best to come to when you're having a bad day or when you feel like crying. In which case they'll cheer you up by some of their pranks and make you laugh since they can't stand to see you cry and be sad. And as for the person whoever made the mistake of making you sad... they'll be on the wrong end of their pranks and NO ONE, I repeat NO ONE wants to be on the wrong end of their pranks, trust me on this. And they'll even take your opinion for their products at their joke shop Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes, and go as far as naming something after you and giving you some of their stuff for free, low prices or discounts ESPECIALLY for you. Lol, they'd just rub it in Ron's face and he'd so freaking jealous
Ron would be the really overprotective type for you. Normally the Weasleys are just over protective of you but he's INSANELY over protective. And it's mentioned in canon too that he's really protective over Ginny when she starts dating Terry Boot, Dean and Harry. And if you think he's bad there, he's WAY worse when you're concerned since the way he sees it is NO ONE is worthy of being your s/o, you're the baby of the family and he will NOT allow someone to ruin you. He'll love to talk about Quidditch with you and maybe even show off some of his flying skills to you, to impress you. And he will not think twice to defend you if some prat like Malfoy decides to be a prick to you, and what'll make his blood boil even more is if Malfoy decides to take an interest in you. In which case the entire Gryffindor house would have to get involved in trying to hold him, the Weasley twins and Percy from literally punching the hell out of him. And of course, with the help of his trust y friends Harry and Hermione they follow you with the Marauder's map and keep tabs on what you're doing just for your safety of course
And last but not the least, Ginny, the youngest of the family but knows how to get something when she wants it. And that includes your attention. She's kinda crafty and demands for your attention regularly. And she will snatch you up like some feather if you're spending time with someone else, except for Molly of course. NO ONE has the guts to dare to go against Molly lol. And of course, she'll introduce you to Luna and even Luna would turn out to be very protective over you. For someone who looks so innocent and calm like her, she does know how to get rid of people who bother you and make you sad. There's always someone watching you no matter what, be it a Weasley, a Granger, a Potter, or a Lovegood... they're all there for you and they're at the back of you, scaring people off who they don't like seeing close to you since all they want is the best for you, that's all. They might not have much, but they have family and it's home...
#platonic yandere weasley family#platonic yandere weasley family x reader#platonic yandere weasley family scenarios#platonic yandere weasley family headcanons#platonic yandere weasley family imagines#platonic yandere weasley family oneshots#platonic yandere molly weasley#yandere arthur weasley x reader#yandere percy weasley x reader#yandere weasley twins x reader#yandere ron weasley x reader#yandere ginny#yandere harry potter scenarios#yandere harry potter#dark harry potter characters x reader#dark harry potter characters#yandere harry potter imagines#yandere harry potter characters#yandere harry potter x reader
123 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
tim-foreverarobin-drake
...This is forever but it won't last long...
survivorwakea
Celestial Survivor: Wākea
unorthodoxx-page
Unorthodoxx