#Because it really does seem like poor decision-making | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderambling · 1 year

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omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

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#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #hybrid yandere #puppy yandere #male yandere #bully reader #gn reader #dom reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere requests

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roanniom · 1 year

Note

mechanic eddie is so hot that id break my car on purpose to see him

The Tune-Up

Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex / PIV sex / semi-public sex, dry humping, really shitty and poorly research car mechanic details

So maybe you intentionally bought a clunker when your last car finally bit the dust. Maybe you found a perpetual lemon of a car that you positively knew would conk out on you every other week meaning you just happen to need to take it to the shop all the time. The shop with the hot mechanic who always has his greased up coveralls pulled down and tied around his waist, revealing the tattoos and muscle and sinew that you could look at for hours on end.

So what?

It's the fourth time this month that you have had to roll your hunk of junk into his garage, and you check your make up in the rear view mirror before hopping out, arranging your hand casually on your hip as you see him walking up, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Eddieeeee. It's making that clanking sound again," you call out in a sing-song voice. Eddie gives you a lopsided grin and sweeps his messy curls up into a ponytail, giving you the perfect view of his stretching pecs beneath his thin tank top.

"You know you don't have to keep abusing that poor car just to see me. You can just ask me out, sweetheart."

Your heartbeat leaps into your throat and your jaw trembles.

"I...that's...I..."

"I'm just messin' with you!" Eddie chuckles at your sudden speechlessness and grabs a wrench, kicking the creeper in front of him and flopping down on it to roll under your car on his back.

The moment he disappears you bite your lip to contain a groan. The man is just so fucking fine. You tilt your head to take in the flexing of his thighs - his lower half the only thing visible right now - under the material of his coveralls. Your appreciation is cut short, however, when he rolls out only a moment after.

“You’re staring, sweetheart,” he says with a cheeky grin, rolling back out from under your car but remaining on his back on the roller.

You look away abruptly at being caught.

“You know my car really does just suck and break and stuff,” you argue lamely in answer to his earlier question. Eddie barks out a laugh and rests his arms behind his head so he can relax there while staying reclined and looking up at you. It gives him a perfect vantage point up your skirt, but he keeps his eyes trained on your face.

“How do you know I don’t keep rigging it to break myself so you have to keep coming back here?” Eddie says in a lilting tease. Your gaze snaps back to him and he raises his eyebrows in a challenge. You feel your entire body come alive at the implication of his statement but try to calm your heart beat by remembering that he's always this flirty.

"Oh yeah? Angling for more chocolate chip cookies there, Munson?" you ask, referring to the fact that you'd brought him cookies as an additional tip during the last few tune ups. Eddie licks his lips and looks you up and down slowly in a way that has your stomach flipping. It's almost like he's considering something. His smile is large when it seems like he's made his decision.

"Angling for a kiss is more like it."

Blood rushes to your ears. If he said anything else, you wouldn't be able to hear it because suddenly you're feeling like you're going to pass out and your vision narrows to the point that he's the only thing you can see.

It's late in the day on a Friday and Eddie's the only one in the shop for closing. You know that. It's why you come on those days in particular, to ensure you get him all on your own. The garage door is open to an empty street that's far enough off the beaten path that you don't think any passersby will be ambling around anytime soon.

So you drop your bag, inhale sharply to hold your breath, and step forward so that you stand with your feet planted on either side of his stretched out legs. Eddie's smile widens with surprise that you've actually taken the bait, but his eyes widen even more when you drop down to straddle his lap.

He'd expected you, at most, to kneel down beside him and playfully peck his cheek. Worst case scenario you'd tell him off for his cheekiness.

But here you are, skirt fanned out around to obscure the fact that you are now pelvis to pelvis. You drop your hands to his chest, fisting fingers in his dirty tank top over the knot of his coverall arms tied at his waist.

"Do you want payment before services or after?" you ask, voice surprisingly steady in spite of the rush of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Eddie looks dumbfounded for only a split second before the cocky attitude is back. His hands find your thighs and grip you, holding you down against the most intimate part of him.

"How 'bout a down payment to start with?" he asks, sliding his hands up your hips and to your waist, most likely leaving the material smudged with grease. You don't care at all, of course. He could cover your whole body in grease if it meant you got to feel his hands on you everywhere.

So you lean down and bring your lips to his. Your initial intent is a quick peck. But after your mouths meet, Eddie's lips part to let out a sinful moan and suddenly one of his hands is cupping the back of your neck to keep you down on top of him. The peck becomes a kiss, and even that morphs into something a lot more dirty and a lot less dignified.

Not that there's anything dignified about straddling your mechanic in the first place.

"Wow. I never want another fucking chocolate chip cookie ever again," Eddie grunts against your neck once he's pulled away to give you a chance to breathe. You giggle but it turns into a moan as he proceeds to immediately suck a hickie into the skin of your throat.

"I'm glad this form of payment works - ah! Works for you!" you say breathlessly as he moves his lips up to drag and suck at the spot behind your ear. His hands grip your waist so tightly that you feel yourself sinking against him as snug as you can get, the pulse between your legs becoming more and more insistent.

"I'm sorry, but your cash is no longer any good here, baby," Eddie rumbles into your skin and all the laughter stops because in that moment you feel the heat emanating from yourself and from him and that is the exact second that you feel his hardness nudging against you.

You pull back to make eye contact, find him glassy eyed and kiss bitten and rumpled staring back up at you.

"Well I guess we can get that figured out when you finish the job," you whisper, experimentally swirling your hips. Eddie's feet plant more firmly on the floor to keep the motion from pushing the roller, and his now bent thighs create a slope that causes you to slide further down and into his crotch. You both groan collectively at the increased contact.

"I already finished actually. So we can discuss payment now," Eddie says, leaning up and capturing your lips again. You pull back a second later, however, when his words finally register.

"What do you mean you already finished?"

"I just had to tighten a bolt," Eddie says with a grin, lifting up the wrench he had abandoned at his side the moment you'd dropped down on him. Your eyes narrow and your heart skips a beat at the implication.

"How did you know that's all that needed to be done?"

Eddie's grin becomes sheepish, as you anticipated. He drops the wrench back on the ground and rubs the back of his neck.

"I might have....uh....left it a little loose after your last visit. Just to make sure you'd....you know. Brighten this shop up again soon."

You try your best to hide the massive smile threatening to burst out on your face. But you make sure to ask the first question on your mind.

"My car couldn't have, like, fallen apart on the highway or anything with that bolt loose could - ,"

"Oh fuck no!" Eddie cuts you off, gripping at your waist suddenly with how fervent he is in his need to assure you. "I would never have let you drive it if it was dangerous." He averts his eyes before looking back at you with humor sparkling in them. "Now did I want it to make a harmless loud noise so suspicious you had to come back in? Yes."

"Shame on you," you cry out without any malice behind the words at all. In fact, you're laughing and leaning down to kiss him again. Your eagerness causes you to rock up against him and before long, the two of you are back at it hot and heavy.

"Hey," Eddie says, attempting to pull back after a while. You, however, are the one to blaze a trail of kisses down his neck this time. He sucks in a breath and continues. "Hey. I get off in about a half an hour."

"Don't want to wait that long for you to get off. Want it to happen right now," you whisper in his ear before sucking his ear lobe into your mouth. Eddie's eyes roll so far back into his head at the action and the innuendo and you feel his hard cock positively jump against you.

"Can't do this while I'm working, baby," Eddie groans, though his hands actively contradict his words by gripping your hips and encouraging them to continue moving against him.

"Isn't my car the last one for the day?" you ask innocently. As if you aren't grinding your clothed pussy all over his erection out in the open in his place of business with the garage door open and the sun still out. "And you did such a good job fixing it."

"Holy fuck..." Eddie breathes. He had been the confident one. He had been the forward one. He's not sure when the dynamic shifted but dear fucking god he's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He does still try his best to at least attempt to be a gentleman, though.

"But I'll get you all dirty. Don't wanna ruin your pretty clothes." Eddie says this while biting his lip and sliding his hands down to squeeze at your ass. It makes you gasp and push down against him even harder, exactly as he'd hoped.

"I don't believe you," you breathe. Eddie captures your mouth in another kiss before shaking his head, distracted.

"What don't you believe?"

"I don't believe that you don't want to ruin my clothes. I think you want to get me all dirty," you challenge. Eddie lifts his hand to your face and holds your chin suddenly between his thumb and index finger, staring deeply into your eyes.

"You're a tease and I love it, sweetheart," he says with a chuckle that makes you preen. "But I need to know...what do you actually want right now?"

"You," you say, not even skipping a beat. Eddie's eyes become serious.

"How...how much of me are we talkin'?"

"All of it," you say, your grin spreading.

"Mother of fucking Christ," Eddie grits out before holding onto you tight and pushing off with his feet, rolling the two of you further behind his work bench, effectively shielding you from the outside world. You squeal at the sudden motion and cling to him, so he uses that to his advantage, attaching his lips to your pulse point. One particularly generous suck to your juggular has you keening and bucking down against him, much to his insane pleasure.

"Oh god. Eddie," you gasp. Eddie closes his eyes and furrows his brow.

"Yeah. Say my name again. Please." He attempts to soften the command with the nicety but you would have screamed his name for much less. You sit up more fully in his lap and help him untie the knotted arms of his coveralls, unzipping the last part of them and exposing the tented front of his boxers. He'd felt huge but he looks even bigger.

"Eddie," you whisper, making eye contact before rubbing your hand over his clothed length. His brow furrows even deeper and you could laugh but you don't. Just like you don't continue to tease him because you're teased out yourself. You need him inside you, like, yesterday. So you pull his boxers down and ogle the length and width of him. Everything you could want him to be.

"Can you...you wanna even the playing field here, sweetheart?" Eddie asks with a silly grin that knocks the wind out of you. You nod without even stopping to get too self conscious, swiftly unbuttoning your blouse and letting the two sides hang open, revealing your bra-clad breasts. Eddie groans like he'd been punched.

"You're a fucking goddess, are you fucking kidding me?" he says, as if you've personally offended him. You chuckle at that.

"I think the exhaust fumes in here have messed with your brain, Munson."

Eddie simply snaps the front clasp of your bra, releasing your breasts to that they fall out with a bounce. Eddie moans like a wounded animal.

"Exhaust fumes my ass. You are unbelievable." His hands immediately close around you, squeezing and weighing. "These tits are magnificent."

You scoff at his word choice.

"You're ridiculous," you try to dismiss him, but his fingers playing with your nipple makes it hard to concentrate on any emotion other than lust. You begin gyrating your hips in search of friction, the hood of your mound pressing up against his erection and creating much needed pressure, even through your clothes.

"No, you're ridiculous trying to pretend like you can wait for this dick," Eddie mocks you, noticing exactly what you're doing. You look at him, biting on the inside of your cheek.

"As if you aren't the one making me wait," you toss back. Eddie's eyebrows raise in a challenge.

"You're the one on top, princess."

You huff and immediately lift yourself up, dropping back down over him so that your skirt obscures his view. But Eddie doesn't need to see in order to feel the tightness of you lowering yourself down onto him.

"Holy fucking - ,"

"Shit!" you interrupt him with your own cry. While you're certainly turned on, it was absolutely absurd for you to try and fit him in without any preparation. Eddie is bigger than anyone you've been with before and he's instantly deeper than you knew was possible, thanks to gravity.

"Fuck, that too much, baby?" Eddie asks, immediately alert and clutching your hips, attempting to keep you balanced above him before your pelvises can meet fully. Fuuuck, he's not even all the way in!

"J-just.....oh god. You're just really big," you whimper. Eddie makes to pull you off him but you dig your fingernails into his arms. "No don't want to get off just - ah. I need a minute. Need to...oh."

You're entire body begins trembling when Eddie's finger begins rubbing circles into your clit. You shudder and then feel yourself sink down a little further on his cock. The attention to your sensitive clit has your thighs widening, your muscles relaxing and your pussy becoming wetter by the second.

"Relax. Mmmm there it is, good girl."

His words practically do more than the finger on your clit and you arch into him, rocking against him shallowly.

After another few minutes of these ministrations, you finally feel yourself growing impatient and increasingly turned on. Experimentally you lift up with your thigh, rising till only his tip is inside you, before sinking back down slowly. Your breath is punched out of you with a hiss, but another moment passes and soon you're able to do it again, faster this time. Eventually you work yourself up to a rhythm, bouncing yourself up and down his cock while his face screws up and his fingers dig into your thighs.

"Wanted this for a long time, princess," Eddie grunts out. "Every time you came in I imagined bending you over that hunk of junk you call a car and fucking you till you couldn't walk."

You gasp at his dirty admission and, feeling emboldened by his honesty, decide to be honest yourself.

"I always wanted you to take me in the backseat and fuck me," you whine. Eddie bucks up into you, the drastic motion causing you to both shift back and forth due to the rocking of the roller you're still precariously perched on.

"We're doing this again, you know," Eddie says matter-of-factly. You must look confused by his words because he continues on fervently. "I may have pictured you with this car, but I'm fucking you in a bed next time," he insists. "Okay maybe a kitchen counter if we can't make it to the bedroom, but either way you deserve a room with a closed door."

You laugh at his words, clenching internally and causing him to moan in the process. You're quickly brought back from humor to urgency when you feel his finger on your clit again.

"Yeah. Yeah we're doing this again," you practically hiccup.

Eddie pulls you down on top of him so that he can lick and nip at your neck, his hand still sandwiched between the two of you.

"Listen to the greedy girl. Already thinking of the next time I'll be inside her."

"You're the one who brought up the subject of a next time!" you accuse, but you lose your bite the second he bites into the side of your throat. He soothes the spot with a lave of his tongue.

"Cum on me, baby, and we can get to that next time sooner."

When you cum, only moments later, your cry echoes throughout the garage. The reverberating sound comes back to your ears and shocks you enough that you almost fall out of your ascending headspace, but Eddie's grunts in your ear and fingers digging into your skin block it all out and keep you grounded to him. This allows you to enjoy your orgasm and even benefit from aftershocks as he takes over and plows up into you, chasing his own release. His haphazard thrusts cause the two of you to roll back and forth on the roller. You cling to him to stay stable with all the movement, and your sudden tensing has you clenching around him so tight he has no time to warn you of his impending orgasm. He just calls out your name and drives his cock deep inside you, spilling out into with sputtering hips.

It takes a while for the proverbial dust to settle. Eddie's hand on your back is soothing, but you quickly realize that your thighs are over extended and your body aches from the strenuousness of your sexual activity.

"Easy there, princess," Eddie coos. He helps you up, his cock sliding out of you with the movement. Like a gentleman he slides your panties back over your dripping slit, patting the wet spot fondly, before dropping the hem of your skirt and shifting to guide you up.

You wobble on embarrassingly unstable legs.

"Jesus christ, what did you do to me?" you huff. Eddie encircles you in his arms and lets out a bark of a laugh.

"What did I do?! How is it that you never fully realized that you were on top?" he asks, echoing his previous sentiments. You help him pull his coveralls up to tie at his waist again and he graciously helps button you back into your blouse.

"Well next time I want you to do all the work," you respond cheekily. Eddie's eyes spring back to yours and for a moment you hesitate, wondering if his earlier words were simply born of the heat of the moment. But Eddie's looking at you like you hung the fucking mood and suddenly he's kissing you. Bold and ardently and with a lot of tongue that says everything he wishes to say to you simply with the press of wet muscle to wet muscle.

When he pulls away his lips are shiny and bruised and you're out of breath. He gives you a lopsided smile and scrunches his nose.

"Next time do I still have to fix your car, or -?"

You slap him on the chest and pull him back in for another kiss.

~*~

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Hoping tumblr doesn't cut off the actual end of the story!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things smut

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moonlight-tarot-11-11 · 2 months

Text

How Does Your Person View You?

This reading is the subjective point of view from your person. It might be or might not be true.

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

Pile 1:

You're always on the move and not very emotional. You go and get what you want and aren't afraid to fight for it. You defend your point of view/ believes , but you don't go out of your way to start conflicts. If you're being attacked, then obviously you'll defend yourself.

They see you're up in your head a lot. Very dreamy, imaginative, full of ambition. A little stubborn at times, but with reason. To them, you're standing on stable ground and have valid reasons to be stubborn.

They see you as a knowledgeable person and that you have so many opportunities to succeed in whatever you put your energy in (however they view success).

They don't see you as an emotional person because you haven't really let them see that part of you. When things are getting too personal, you might change the topic and revert back to the composed you.

They admire you. They see you so high up and that you are capable of achieving anything and everything. For most of you, your person has seen you evolve into this 'new' you. They want to know you better, including your emotional side.

Songs: More Than A Friend - girli | Washing Machine Heart (Speed) - Mitski | Two - Sleeping At Last

Pile 2:

An old soul. You're not new in this world let alone, in this universe. They feel like you've gone through so much, but that you've learned from that and continued your path. You're not living in the past. You reflect a lot, but they see you applying what you have learned, into the present.

They think you're a bit lonely, even misunderstood, for some of you. You're so in tune with nature/universe/spirit - what that might look like for your person. You know what you're feeling, why you're feeling it, and what you'll do about it. They see you as a calm collected person.

There's this fear of getting close to you because they don't feel that they're at your level. They view you as knowledgeable in regards to spiritual topics and your person thinks they aren't so spiritual. They are open to it, but there's this irrational fear of you looking down on them for not knowing much.

Regardless of gender, they view you as a masculine person. You make decisions and act upon them. They're amazed by you and they think that you don't think very highly of them. You might have a bit of a resting bitch face without knowing.

Songs: She Likes A Boy - Nxdia | Miss You - Louis Tomlinson | Magia Blanca - Hermanos Carrion

Pile 3:

You limit yourself a lot but they also see you so free, flowing, and in tune with yourself, but for some reason, you limit yourself so much. Your person is frustrated. They don't know what they can do to help you realize this.

"Why do they stop themselves so much? Why do they hold themselves back so much? Why do they hide so much? Why aren't they showing their authentic self, their talents, their light to the world?"

From their point of view, there's nothing holding you back from doing anything. The Devil and 10 of Swords are in reverse - meaning you are free to do what you wish, but you think so low of yourself for a reason they don't understand or see, causing all those opportunities and freedom from happening.

It seems that you're open and trust your person, that's why they see all these amazing things about you. They have strong feelings towards you, but they feel that if they let you know, you'll reject them because of your poor self-esteem.

You think you're the worst being in the world, but they don't understand why you would think such a thing. They see you as the brightest light. The brightest of them all.

"Why are they looking for a devil that isn't there?"

Songs: I Really F**ked It Up - girli | Chance With You - mehiro | Drinking With Cupid - VOILÀ

~*~*~*~

I hope you liked the reading! Thank you for being here!

#tarot #tarot reading #pick a card #pick an image #pick a pile

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velocesainz · 3 months

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Hii!

Could you possibly do a Percy Jackson smut with Percy fucking the brat out of reader, his rival? Rough sex with degrading and praise pls and ty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

A/n:This was quite an interesting request for me to write, thank you for the idea! All character have been aged up (19-20)

More than rivalry

Percy jackson masterlist | main masterlist

Summary: Percy gets jealous seeing you (his rival) with another boy and decides to fuck you to make sure you remember that you are his but you end up being too cocky for his liking

Warnings: smut, degradation

Pairing: Percy x daughter of Zeus! Reader

Reader pov:

I was practising my archery skills with some Apollo kids and we were actually having a lot of fun

Over the time I had spent Robert over the past few days perfecting my archery we both really grew close together

He was one of the very few people at camp who were actually friends with me for me and not because I was Zeus’s daughter.

While we were training I clumsily fell over a rock and was about to go crash into the ground but Robert caught me in time.

We stayed in the position for a little bit not knowing what to do.

We looked at each other with soft and gentle eyes, like how friends would rather than people who like each other though it seemed otherwise to most.

It was a sweet moment we both were trying to savour when a bellowing voice split us apart

“Oi thunder witch! What are you doing, let the poor guy out of his misery and do some practising on your own yea?” Yelled the voice that I really didn’t want to hear right now

Percy motherfucking Jackson

“Ocean ass how about you go bother someone else. He’s here with me at his own will for your kind information. Care more about your friends yea?” I retorted

I wanted to leave the arena as fast as possible so I bid Robert goodbye and left for my cabin

Percy pov:

Crisis averted.

I didn’t let Robert and y/n have their moment.

Why the fuck out of all the girls here does Robert have to go for y/n?

He has like a hundred girls dying for him.

Doesn’t he know she’s mine?

I know we seem like enemies but I wish to fuck like every second of the day at this point

She’s just so beautiful and that attitude damn.

I had a plan to get y/n away from every other guy, not just Robert.

Reader pov:

I was sitting in my cabin reading a book when I heard a knock on my door

That’s odd, I thought

Nobody was usually free at this hour in the evening

Everyone was too busy scheming for capture the flag except me of course

I wasn’t allowed to participate along with Percy since we were a tad bit overpowered

I walked over and opened the door and before I could figure out who it was they shoved me against the wall and started kissing me

I pushed the figure away and tried to run but they caught me

“Don’t try to run bitch. You need to be taught a lesson. Now be a good little slut and listen to what I say or the consequences will be severe for you” the figure whispered in my ear.

Then I realised who it was

Percy.

I was feeling cocky today so I decided to tease him a little

“You sure you can be intimidating and dominating seaweed brain? I don’t think you can even satisfy me forget punishing me”I replied with a smirk gracing my features

“Oh you asked for this whore. By the time I’m done with you you will be so dumb for my cock that you won’t even remember your name. Just you wait “ he said in a Husky voice which turned me on more than I would like to admit

He started removing my clothes as fast as he could and I couldn’t help but sneak in a cheeky comment

“Desperate are we?” Boy oh boy was this a bad decision

“I’m going to fuck that cocky attitude right out of you. You really just can’t keep your mouth shut can you whore?” Percy said and threw me in my bed

Undressing himself he got on the bed and made his way towards me like a predator approaching its prey

He moved my panties to the side and roughly shoved his cock inside me without any warning

“A-ah p-p-Percy that hurts sto-“ I was cut off by a slap I received

“Shut the fuck up slut. You were the one who was acting all cocky just a few minutes ago. Bitches like you don’t deserve to be cared for” Percy panted as he continued thrusting in and out

His pace was ungodly. He kept thrusting in and out of me letting my pussy drink up his cock

I felt like I was losing my mind as he hit my g-spot repeatedly completely abusing it

“O-oh fuck your pussy is tight. G-gods I’m going to come. Ah yea just like that” He whispered huskily

“I am going to cum too Percy” I told him

“No no. You don’t get to cum you little slut. You’ve been a really back whore for me. You don’t get to cum today, deal with it yourself” Percy said as he came in me

He got dressed quickly and left leaving me a panting and unsatisfied mess

Goddamit jackson.

A/n: let me know if you guys liked this fic or if you have any feedback! Requests are still on hold unfortunately but they’ll be opened soon. Kissies ✨

#percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson smut #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue #luke castellan x you #luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you

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astrobydalia · 11 months

Text

more observations (lost count)✨

Hello guys! Life's been crazy lately and I barely have time to make any of the master posts I wanted to, so you'll be getting lost of observation posts that I've been collecting in my drafts for the past months. As always, enjoy!

❗️long post

work by astrobydalia

✨ Sagittarius and Aquarius are so fucking similar. Both of them are chaotic af, love their freedom and think they're smarter than everyone else. People who have both of these in their big 6 have the most unhinged

✨ Libra is WAY more obsessed with perfection than Virgo

✨ Whenever I had Libra or Taurus ASC on my Solar return chart I was lazy AS FUCK. I had no motivation to work whatsoever during those years, all I wanted to do was vibe and enjoy life. I also felt very relaxed and stress-free, when difficulties came I just went with the flow

✨ What is up with Gemini risings and always feeling intellectually insecure all the time? Literally their #1 insecurity is feeling like they are dumb or like they’re not good enough for highly abstract and intellectual tasks/professions. They come across as someone immature who lacks wisdom or has a superficial/simplistic view of things. I feel like this is because they attract people who are a bit of know-it-alls (Sagittarius DSC) and they have a reputation for being scattered-brained (Pisces 10th house) so people tent to infantilize them a lot.

^^^But let me tell you this not true at all, Gemini risings are some of the most brilliant people I’ve met with so much potential. Their problem is that they allow overthinking to get the best of them and end up doubting themselves 24/7. These are the type of people who have amazing ideas but they never pursue any them. They really struggle making decisions for themselves, they always need to ask for opinions first which is not a bad thing but this makes them come across as incapable or as someone who lacks self-sufficiency

✨ Mercurial signs (Virgo and Gemini) like to focus on concrete things and immediate reality, they process life by connecting one thing at a time and taking info as it comes, they focus on what's going on around them cause Mercury is all about multiplicity and details. With Jupiter signs on the other hand (Sag and Pisces) one thing about them is they don't care about details as long as things make sense as a whole, they see life from a more broad and general perspective, they prefer having a birds eye view of things because Jupiter is all about expansion and therefore it likes to encompass many things at once. This is why Virgo and Gemini rule mundane life themes and immediate reality while Sag and Pisces are more about general life lessons and higher knowledge

✨ Scorpio moons/8th house moons are the definition of an energy vampire fr. They just have a really poor understanding of healthy emotional boundaries, they expect you to give your all but aren't willing to reciprocate and always turn everything into a manipulation or mind game somehow which makes it pretty exhausting to be around them in the long run. Don't get me wrong, most of the ones I’ve met were very and good people but they always end up taking my energy away and make me feel emotionally burnt out

✨ Mercury-Mars aspects have this "it is what it is" mentality and really dislike over complicating things by reading too deep into them. They tend to think things exactly as they seem. This does not mean they're simplistic, on the contrary this makes them surprisingly insightful fast thinkers and are not the type to be easily fooled

✨ I've seen people saying that hard aspects between Mercury-Pluto makes people misunderstand your words. This is not true, this happens with Neptune cause Neptune rules delusion, but Pluto is a very blunt and straightforward planet cause it's all about revealing the dark truths. Mercury-Pluto aspects makes someone very deliberate with their words and they know exactly what to say to make their message stick. You will understand their words exactly how they want you to understand them. What happens with hard aspects is that the native tends to have a more provocative approach in the things they say, they don't care if you're offended by what they say as long as what they say makes an impact. People can misunderstand their intentions because of this, but not their words

✨ The ironic thing about Aquarius placements is that they are very good when it comes to connecting with the masses, the public usually feels very drawn to them because they're very good at appealing to collective values which makes them come across as relatable to many people as a result. However, when you actually try to relate to them or connect one-on-one, you will find yourself with someone that is surprisingly elusive, distant and more distrustful than Scorpio placements which is a huge contrast from the welcoming vibe they give off to the public. I've found that the only way you will get close to an Aquarius placements is on THEIR terms lmao, if they've decided they like you, it'll be them who will approach you and/or make the effort to engage with you

✨ A reocurring thing I've seen with Virgo placements is that they really dislike big changes and prefer to stay in control. I think this is not mentioned often cause it's kinda weird to say that about a mutable sign, but Virgos being mercury+earth ruled they feel comfortable relying on facts, data, observations, etc and they use all this tangible info to navigate reality, that's why they rule daily life and routines because they invest a lot of their energy on factually understanding and categorizing their reality (earth signs in general are very attached to the tangible). Their mutable nature shows in that they easily use their knowledge to adapt, find solutions and fix what’s wrong but when they are in situations where these "categories" prove to be useless (aka Pisces themes), they get very triggered cause that means they no longer have control of their reality

✨ That being said another reoccurring thing I’ve noticed with Virgo placements is that they love to predict things. But not in a mystical sense it’s more like they enjoy understanding things in such way that they’re able to easily put a label on them and easily predict what’s going on or how something works

✨ I have not seen a single Taurus placement who didn’t have the most insanely sexy and pleasant voice ever. Doesn’t matter if they sing of not, just hearing their voice is so delightful

✨ Aquarius Mercury really believe their opinions are the most ultimate and correct opinions out there. They are certain that their judgment is always 100% objective (aka always true) so in their mind if you slightly disagree with them that means you’re mediocre, dumb or narrow-minded.

✨ There's always a duality in all mutable signs. Sagittarius can be very humorous and optimistic but also very dark and profound. Gemini can be curious and chaotic but also very analytical and logical. Virgo can be picky and perfectionistic but also very permissive and conformist. Pisces can be very compassionate and wise but also very detached and clueless

✨ Neptune does not do well in air houses/signs at all simply because air energy rules (different types of) information and connections, while Neptune is all delusion and confusion. Also air energy is purely cerebral and rational while Neptune appeals to the unconscious

✨ I have not fact-checked this but I feel like it's safe to say that Mars rules testosterone. Testosterone is a hormone associated to violence or impulsive behavior, sex drive, red blood cells (blood), masculinity, etc That's literally all mars

✨ People always talk about how Capricorn moons have had a rough life but I've noticed this is also very true for Sagittarius Moons?? Responsibilities are not imposed on them like Capricorn, in their case they have to build up wisdom about life through pure and raw experience without anyone giving them a heads up or any pointers first, that's why they grow up feeling like they're fully on their own. Things work out for them at the end but they always have most MESSY life experience it's really crazy

✨ Both domicile and afflicted Mars are ambitious and determined but the main difference is that Libra/Taurus/Cancer Mars need to find some type of enjoyment or fulfillment in their goals in order to get motivated while Capricorn/Aries/Scorpio Mars find motivation in the challenge and endure through stuff they don't find pleasant

✨ From what I've seen males with Scorpio placements are very superficial and will gaslight as a lifestyle. They are the type of people who look the other way or brush things off or never takes anything seriously and I've noticed they do this so they never have to take accountability.

✨ Neptune/Pisces energy either gives “glamorous and ethereal” vibes or “weird in an extremely cringe way” vibes, there’s no in-between

✨ A reoccurring thing I've noticed with those who have Chiron in Taurus/2nd house or Chiron-Venus is that they often have dubious morality or double standards because they don't have a solid values

✨ Every single Libra Moon/rising female I’ve met embodied the material girl stereotype. They really have this “instagram girl” vibes to them if that makes sense

✨ Those with Sagittarius in the 5th house can actually find a lot of joy and happiness in becoming parents or they have a lot of fun with children

✨ Scorpio Mars can't stand not knowing what's going on around them and at first I thought this was bc they were suspicious/paranoid but then I realized it’s because they’re just controlling as shit. They come across as very chill and care fee but they’re actually SUPER controlling dude. Even when they know for sure that they can trust you and you’re doing nothing wrong they still want to keep taps on you and won’t leave you alone. They won't bluntly violate your privacy but will still find ways to always know what you're up to

✨ The resentful and spiteful stereotype associated to Scorpio actually belongs to Leo placements imo. They can be very reactive and childish when you insult their ego and will make it very known that they won't let it go

✨ Cancer North Node people always have some sort of issue or inner conflict with of having kids. They feel drawn to the idea of becoming a parent but deep down they low-key don't? I've also seen many women with this placement who had fertility issues

I have the theory that these natives are conflicted in this topic because they see family as an achievement or a societal expectation (Capricorn south node) so in this life time they have to know what it's like to desire a family for the right reasons and not because they feel like they 'should'

✨ Capricorn risings really are hyper-aware of their public image and how others perceive them. That's why they always end up becoming very popular and respected, cause they know very well where they "stand" publicly so they know how to successfully curate their own reputation. It's not surprising to see this placement a lot in celebrities

✨ Pluto in the 12th house are genuinely unsure of who they can trust which leads to a lot of paranoia and projection. The type to ignore the most obvious red flags but then automatically doubt your loyalty cus you spoke in a suspicious tone

✨ Pisces/12th house placements 🤝 disappearing. Y’all shit on Gemini for ghosting but have you ever met a pisces/12th houser?

✨ Saturn in 5th house people had parents (namely father) who were overly critical of them and their self-expression. Doesn’t necessarily mean they were unsupportive of the native but they were quite hard on the native’s creativity

✨ I've seen a lot of bullies/mean girls have Aquarius placements. Honorable mentions: virgo, Leo, libra

✨ Neptune-ASC people are really good at making themselves invisible when they want and/or making parts of themselves go completely unnoticed even if they're bluntly obvious. I've noticed they actually get away with a lot cause they have this tendency to not be accurately seen by others if that makes sense

✨ Neurodivergent individuals usually have Mercury harshly aspecting (conjunction, square, opposition and inconjuction) Uranus and Saturn. Said Mercury is more often than not in a water house/sign/degree or in Aries. Of course not everyone with these aspects will be neurodivergent, but it's just a pattern I've seen

✨ Pluto-ASC people most of the times fail to have a lighthearted view towards life. They always want to look beyond the surface of things which doesn't really allow them to enjoy life as it is. They often get a reputation for looking too deep into everything and in turn the Pluto-asc native often sees others as superficial

✨ Virgo risings are huge conformist and won’t go after anything that’s outside their immediate boundaries. They only make an effort towards things that are accessible and will quickly lose interest in anything that has difficult availability or requires them to go way out of their comfort zone. They're overall pretty self-serving.

✨ I know several people diagnosed with OCD. All of them have Virgo AND 6th house placements, 22º in their big 3, Scorpio Mercury/Moon and Mercury dominance

work by astrobydalia

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astro notes #zodiac #birth chart #astrobydalia #scorpio #astronotes

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icarryitin · 6 days

Text

Help Me?

spencer reid/gn!reader

i love being in this guy’s brain there is just something so Character about him🧡 and happy birthday to you anon!!🥳

masterlist

word count: 4.5k // warnings: injury description (dislocated shoulder), mentions of injections and pills for pain relief, poor and inaccurate medical knowledge, non-sexual undressing, would you believe me if i told you the sexual tension in the second half of this was accidental? for those reasons this is 18+

“Try it, see what happens.”

You appear out of the shadows ahead of them, the gun in your hands aimed carefully at the Unsub’s back, like a goddamn guardian angel.

The guy isn’t going to give up without a fight, even with three federal agents to contend with, that much is obvious. His grip on his weapon is far shakier than any of yours, fingers twitching ever closer to the trigger. You’ve made the split second decision to launch yourself at him before he has the chance to fire off a shot.

Which means Spencer has a front row seat to the sickening thud of your side against the ground when you tackle the Unsub. He’s grateful that he and Hotch aren’t staring down the barrel of a gun anymore, but less grateful that it’s come at the price of the grimace clear on your face. You’ll be bruised for sure, going down as hard as you do.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asks you as he hauls the Unsub up by his cuffed wrists. You take a moment to check yourself over, mentally inventory every joint and nerve, before you nod. Spencer holds a hand out towards you, which is taken without hesitation and you start pulling yourself up off the ground.

The crack of your shoulder as it pops out of the socket is so loud that the vibration of it tingles through your interlaced fingers and all the way up to his own.

A sharp yelp, followed by a weak whimper that makes his stomach flip, and he drops your hand like it’s scalding hot. You pull it into your chest with your good arm, palm cradling your elbow to give yourself a little support. Maybe you’d hit the ground a little harder than you meant to. It’s definitely dislocated. He can’t help but feel like it’s his fault.

Maybe that’s why he’s manoeuvring around you, where you sit pouting in a dusty heap. It’s what he tells himself anyway, as he slips large hands underneath your FBI vest – fingers pressed snugly against your ribs, separated by only a thin shirt, and he carefully helps you to your feet. The action has his face dangerously close to yours, so close that he’s terrified you’ll be able to hear how shallow his breaths are. But you seem to be far too focused on your own breathing to really register his proximity. Hotch is ahead already, Unsub in tow, but you’re the only thing Spencer is worried about right now. Someone else can collect the abandoned firearm from the ground, he has more important things to do. Like getting you into the care of a professional instead of his clumsy hands.

“Can you walk?”

A rhetorical question if he’s ever asked one. It’s your arm he’s pulled out of the socket, not a leg. You nod anyway, gently, but you don’t pull away from him. Instead your voice is soft, unsure.

“Help me?”

Of course he does, as if he’d be able to do anything else.

Does he really need to keep a hold on you, help you across the warehouse floor and out to an ambulance? Probably not. Does he do it anyway? Absolutely. You don’t seem to mind the closeness, judging by the way you lean into the solidity of him as the two of you shuffle towards the open door. He relishes in it, just a little. Because for all the camaraderie and familiarity that has built your friendship over the past few years, touches like this are so rare. Rare and usually instigated by you, when a case has hit him a little too close to home. It’s precious. To have you in his arms the way he’s wanted, wished for, literally dreamed about. There’s an irony in his earlier misplaced attempt to help you up, somewhere. Why can he only have you this close when one of you is hurting?

Raised eyebrows from the rest of the team be damned, he’ll carry you to the ambulance if he has to. He doesn’t but he’d try if you asked.

Spencer has seen all manner of terrible things. He’s seen them happen to strangers, friends, he’s been the one under the spotlight more than once. But he finds himself wholly unprepared to watch you wince as you hop up onto the back of the ambulance, legs dangling over the edge, arm still cradled protectively close to your chest. You flinch almost violently when the paramedic approaches you with outstretched hands which, in turn, only makes you hiss in pain. Your apology is small, quiet, sheepish. Everything he knows you not to be, which only makes him feel that much worse about being the reason you’re in this position in the first place. He’s not, the little logical voice in his brain tells him it was the fall you took, but he’s the one who offered to help you up. Can’t take that back.

“Do you have to?” You’re arguing with the paramedic when his brain checks back in to the conversation.

A sling has been placed by the open medical bag beside you, but it’s the object next to it that has your eyes wider than dinner plates. A needle, carefully sealed in its little package, ready and waiting to give you the pain relief that all three of you know you’re in desperate need of. There’s no way your shoulder can be reset here without it.

“You look at dead bodies all day, and you’re telling me you’re afraid of this?” The paramedic means well, he knows she does, but the grating sound of the sterile packaging being ripped open only serves to shrink you away from it even further.

“Phobias are rarely rational. In fact, the dictionary definition refers to one as being an extreme or irrational fear of, or aversion to, something. Phobias relating to medical procedures are pretty common actually.”

The barely hidden eye roll he gets from the paramedic would suggest he’s not helping the situation, but it’s the look that you give him. The one he gets across coroner slabs and conference tables and crime scenes, that tells him he is.

“I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want to, considering this is kind of my fault,” Spencer holds his hand up between you, wiggling his fingers in front of a sad little smile, “But squeeze away.”

“I don’t know, I might break it.” You’re going for a light-hearted joke, but your gritted teeth pay you no favours.

“Then we’ll call it even.”

You take his hand, and he wonders if he’ll need to ask the paramedic to break out the defibrillator next – judging by the way his heart stutters in his chest.

And, to your credit, you only almost break it. The first squeeze is tight, muscles in your forearm trembling as the needle plunges deep into your shoulder. It won’t be enough to completely numb you, the paramedic confirms, but it’ll go a fair way towards dulling the pain. You should really go to a hospital, a bodge job in the back of an ambulance isn’t exactly Bureau protocol, but he knows that isn’t happening. God forbid you ever get shot, he’s sure that getting you treated properly for something like that would be more traumatic for you than any injury.

The second squeeze isn’t something he’s prepared for. You hang onto his hand as though your life depends on it once the paramedic has decided the painkillers have kicked in enough, though her fingers on your shoulder still have you tensing. She tells you to relax, uselessly. Instead, you turn your head away, bury it into Spencer’s shoulder, and dig your nails into the back of his hand. His knuckles crack under the pressure, synchronised popping absolutely miniscule compared to the thunderous pop your shoulder gives when the paramedic manipulates it back into place. Tears seep through his shirt as they dampen his shoulder, the tension in your jaw gives away the sob you’re biting back. You swallow it before you pull your face from the security of his warmth – brave face, as always – and dutifully allow the paramedic to tug the Kevlar vest over your head to make way for the sling she’s prepared.

You’re too on edge to really pay attention to the instructions she’s giving you, too preoccupied on slowing your heart rate to hear about the over the counter pain meds you should take, how long you need to keep the sling on. So, Spencer listens. He remembers, as he always does. He nods and tells her he’ll make sure you do everything by the book, because he knows you won’t be on your way to the doctor’s office in a hurry if your recovery doesn’t go to plan.

JJ popping up in your field of vision seems to lighten your mood, the stiffness falls away and you choke out a laugh alongside a sarcastic comment about heroics being above your paygrade. It’s fake, the laughter. Your spine is still rigid, smile a little too tight to be true. But nobody else seems to notice. They’re just glad you’re alright. Something about your rapid mood change scratches an itch in his brain, the smallest part of it that’s just a little smug. Because you don’t let on about your fear to the others. Just him.

Spencer piles into the back of the second SUV after you, behind Rossi and Emily, and takes it upon himself to make sure you’re strapped in. Admittedly, you could manage it yourself, but he doesn’t want you to. There are eyes on the back of his head when he leans over to carefully pull the seatbelt across you, when he makes sure to steer clear of your sling, but they’re easy to ignore when you’re watching him the way you are. Your quiet affirming hum follows the click of the seat belt plug when you meet his questioning gaze, calming the pounding in his chest and he doesn’t pull back right away. Involuntarily, his eyes drop to your lips for the barest of moments.

He could kiss you.

Right here, right now. In the back of the SUV, with your arm in a sling, and your colleagues watching on. He could do it. But he doesn’t.

He knows what he wants your first kiss to be like – a little pocket of his brain is dedicated to it, plays scenario after scenario in the moments before he settles down to sleep every night. Silly little bedtime stories.

Except they’re not silly, because somewhere along the way he stumbled out of his harmless little crush and into something much more serious. He knows what it is, he won’t put a name to it. Instead, he daydreams. It’s not always the same, the location varies - sometimes you’re at work, in the bullpen or the conference room, or obscured from the rest of the team by the metallic bulk of an SUV. Sometimes you’re in his apartment, in the kitchen, by the window in the living room, in the doorway of his bedroom. Sometimes it’s just a street corner, at night, at midday, dawn, dusk. But you, you’re always the same. You always look at him with a smile that could light the entire city, and he just tells you.

Spills his guts out all over the floor, every part of him left raw and vulnerable, as he tells you he loves you - has always loved you. Maybe even before he met you. He tells you how his heart stopped in his chest that first morning you walked into the BAU office, how he nearly spilled his coffee down his shirt, how his glasses steamed up with the heat from his cheeks. How Derek, JJ, Garcia, the entire team has been teasing him for literal years. How sometimes he thinks he catches you looking at him, but that’d be just too good to be true wouldn’t it?

And then your smile grows, and you take a step further into his space until there’s scarcely any room between you. That’s when you tell him you do look at him, you look at him all the time. Because you love him, just as hopelessly and desperately and effortlessly as he loves you. That’s when he kisses you. When he grasps your face in his hands and takes a deep breath of you before crashing into you with a bruising force. You take it, of course you do, just as eagerly as he pours himself into it. The kiss of a lifetime. That’s how he’d do it.

But he can’t do any of that, not now.

So, he pulls back, plugs his own seatbelt in, and lets himself wallow in the post-case stillness that settles in the car. Punctuated by Penelope’s voice through the speaker on your phone though it may be. She’s relieved, a little mad that you’d put yourself in harm’s way, but ultimately glad you’re safe. He smiles to himself at that, he can’t help but agree.

Quantico’s parking garage is dark this time of night, of course it would be, but the chill of the concrete seeps into his bones. You shiver beside him as he helps you slide out of the SUV. Goodbyes are short, sweet, exhausted. Each member of the team wandering towards their own vehicles, leaving you and Spencer standing alone under the fluorescent lights.

“Let’s get you home, superhero.” He grins at you as his hand settles gently on the small of your back, guiding you towards the street exit.

It’s not far to the train station, the streets are still busy even at this time of night. Tourists and businessmen and politicians all alike. But you don’t get jostled in the slightest, he makes sure of it - carefully weaving through the throngs to get you safely to your platform. It’s only as he steps onto the train with you that you realise his own home is in the complete opposite direction. It’s borderline unfair how fuzzy he feels at your concern for his own journey.

“I said I was getting you home, not getting you to the station.” He can’t help the fond smile that settles on his features as you look up at him from your seat. He’s chosen to stand, partially in front of you, as a sort of makeshift barrier between your injured arm and any potential commuters who might stumble into you. He holds his hand out to you expectantly and it takes you another moment to fish your keys out of your bag. They’re placed softly in his palm, your fingers barely brushing his. The touch is so gentle compared to the way you almost squeezed that same hand to death only a couple of hours earlier. He just about manages to suppress the shudder that threatens to buckle his knees, and he counts his lucky stars that your building is only a block away from the train’s destination.

The thought only occurs to Spencer when he’s halfway over the threshold of your apartment, too preoccupied with getting you back safely to realise he’s actually never been in your home before. Organised chaos is the term he’d use. The open plan kitchen and living area is tidy but cluttered, books of every genre piled on shelves with no real strategy, a haphazard stack of second hand vinyls that are mostly Tom Waits sit atop an old record player, a small collection of cacti in mismatched terracotta pots are lined up on your little kitchen windowsill. The cupboards are a deep green, which should really be at odds with the peach tinged wash on the walls, but the combination is just soft enough to work. It’s very you.

“I can take care of myself, you don’t have to stay.”

Your name leaves his lips in the same tone it usually does before he can stop it, the same heavy sigh that wraps around the letters more often than not. God, you know exactly how to push his buttons, even when you don’t mean to. You’re missing the point entirely – he wants to take care of you. It’s so rare that you let him.

“Nice try,” He says as he sets your work bag down on one of the chairs at the round kitchen table, “Get changed, I’ll fix up some dinner.”

“You will?” The teasing grin on your face is either because you don’t think he can cook, or because you can’t. He’s leaning towards the former.

“Hey, I’m a man of many talents.”

You stand there for another long few seconds, just watching him. It’s not dissimilar to the look you gave him at the ambulance, in the SUV, on the train home. Like there’s something you’re desperate to say to him; only, you’re not sure how to say it. So you turn on your heel and close the bedroom door behind you.

Spencer physically has to shake off the weight of your gaze before he can move again, even after you’re gone. His own bag finds its place beside yours, jacket folded and draped neatly over the back of the metal chair. It’s the kind of dining set he’d expect to see outside a Parisian cafe, as opposed to being tucked in the corner of a DC apartment. Chipped white metalwork and all, probably originally a garden set, but it fits the eclectic thrift store vibe you’ve curated throughout the space. He finds himself drifting towards your overstuffed bookshelf, to the beat up record player and the pile of albums - the protective sleeve of each one shabbier than the last. He’d been right at first glance, the collection is mostly second-hand Tom Waits albums - with a little Queen, The Magnetic Fields, and Fleetwood Mac in the mix. The album on top is the most dog-eared, and he doesn’t have to employ a single one of his profiling skills to know this one is the most loved, most played, and he’s sure you’ll appreciate the comfort of some background noise. So he’s concentrating on sliding the record out of the sleeve, carefully placing it onto the turntable, and setting the needle down.

The bluesy first bars of Tom Waits’ Heartattack and Vine fill the room at the same time you open the bedroom door, looking more than a little sorry for yourself. And, to his credit, Spencer does a pretty good job of not laughing at the picture of you in the open doorway.

You’ve got yourself tangled up, all wrinkled shirtsleeves and oozing embarrassment - one sleeve dangles empty by your side where the other is still firmly encased by the sling, your sole free arm pokes out of the bottom of your sweater. Your eyebrows are drawn as you look everywhere but at him.

“Can you…?” You trail off. A breath pushes its way out of your lungs, half-sigh and half-helpless laugh.

“Come on.” He erases the distance between you in two strides, hands turning you at the waist before he can even really think about what he’s doing. You shuffle into the room ahead of him, soft rug shielding your socked feet from the cold of the wooden floor. He’s pleased to find the same decorative tastes extend through to your bedroom.

Another bookshelf, also stuffed to the brim with enough material to start your own bookstore. A little wooden desk by the window paired with a chair that doesn’t match, the wall to the right of it is plastered in multicoloured post it notes - a few of them catch his eye, reminders and ideas and shopping lists. Your bedspread is the same dark green as your kitchen cabinets, although it’s mostly obscured by a mess of patchwork blankets and jewel toned decorative pillows. Your sunshine plush has pride of place balanced against the left-hand bedpost on top of the headboard. Even without an eidetic memory, he’d remember the look on your face when he won it for you. Undercover at a travelling carnival in Oregon, the job at hand was to lure out an Unsub whose tastes fit you to a T, but he’d been uncharacteristically powerless to resist at least trying to get something for you. Your cover was a couple, anyway. He’d only been in character. Not only do you still have it, but it has pride of place, and something about it has his pride rearing its head.

You’re fussing with your pyjamas, a threadbare hoodie and garishly patterned sweatpants, when he turns his attention back to you. The reality of the situation seems to hit you both in the same moment.

Spencer is going to have to undress you.

It’s not how he imagined it would be - and that is definitely not something he needs to think about right now. He could keep his eyes closed? Although not being able to see where he should put his hands is arguably more dangerous than it would be to pay attention. He has to clear his throat before he can find his voice.

“I’m going to have to take this off,” He gestures to the sling, hoping he sounds less noticeably wrecked to you than he does to himself, “But we’ll go slow, okay?”

It’s cruel, is what it is, to watch you nod your agreement, to witness your unshakeable trust that he won’t hurt you so closely. Ultimately, it’s not overly different to the way he checks over your protective vest. There’s a strategy, a system to it just the same as the task that lies ahead, and he’ll follow it step by scientific step.

The sling is first, straps carefully undone and the support sliding off your arm - you both support it, your elbow in his palm where yours settles under your wrist. The one free hand you have between you, Spencer’s, works your shirt up over your uninjured shoulder and tugs it over your head. His eyes never drift beyond what you’ve asked of him, though it isn’t for lack of temptation. He slides the remaining sleeve off of your injured arm with a touch so light that neither of you wouldn’t know it was there if not for the skim of his fingers over your bare skin. Your hoodie replaces your work shirt just as carefully, in reverse. Injured arm first, head, uninjured arm. His tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth absentmindedly as he concentrates on looping the sling over the thick cotton, securing your arm tight to your chest again. Job done, and without too much embarrassment. He’d call that a success.

“Would you mind-” You struggle for a moment, “The clasp is fiddly.”

Spencer doesn’t know what you mean at first, and then it clicks - and it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. You need him to undo your trousers. He can do that, he can do it. He might feel like he’s about to spontaneously combust over the request, but he can do it.

There’s not a whole lot he wouldn’t do for you, to tell the truth.

It takes him longer than it should to slip the hook out of its clasp, usually nimble fingers fumbling under the weight of both of your gazes. But he doesn’t stop there. Because his usually brilliant mind is buzzing with static and his hands are moving of their own accord and the teeth of the zip on your trousers as he pulls it down is loud.

Spencer pulls back like he’s been shocked, while your eyes remain firmly glued to his hands. Hands that now wring themselves with anxiety as he quietly asks if you can manage the rest. You don’t respond verbally - it takes another long second, but you start shimmying the trousers off of your hips with your free hand. The slightest glimpse of bare thigh has him spinning on his heel and marching towards the kitchen in search of food.

He’s not thinking about the soft material of your sweatpants being pulled carefully over your legs in the other room, as he roots around in your kitchen cupboards. He’s not. A can of chopped tomatoes, a handful of half-empty spice jars, just about enough dry spaghetti for two. It’ll do. A pot of water is set on the stove to boil, the noise is enough of a distraction when the bedroom door opens again behind him. You shuffle about for a few minutes, digging around your shelves and Tom Waits’ gravelly tone cuts off abruptly to be replaced by the softer voice of Stevie Nicks instead. The volume ticks down a couple of notches before you join Spencer in the kitchen as he warms the tomatoes and spices alongside the boiling noodles, moving around him with the same ease you do in the office. You pull out two bowls that don’t match - one is shallower and wider and glazed a sunshine yellow, there’s a chip in the lip of it. The other one is smaller, deeper, glazed navy blue instead and with a cheeky face etched into the pottery. Its nose protrudes slightly, rounded out on one side. He can’t help his smile when he dishes out two equal portions and the red sauce drips down onto the bowl’s nose. He swipes at the mess with his thumb before handing you the bowl.

“Thank you.” You search out his gaze this time, urging him to look you in the eye. For cooking, or what he’s sure is your favourite bowl, or staying. He’s not sure. He wants to tell you that you don’t have to thank him, he’d drop anything and everything at any moment if you needed him to. But something in your eyes has stolen his voice, a flicker of something he’s far too terrified to acknowledge. So he only smiles, takes the yellow dish in his hands, and follows you to the comfort of your vintage floral couch.

It’s not a table dinner kind of evening, you seem to have decided. Although the precarious balance of the bowl on your knees suggests otherwise, as you try to eat one handed. Spencer leans forward to pull the cushion from behind his back, his own dinner temporarily abandoned on the floor in front of him, and he picks up your bowl to slide the cushion across your lap in lieu of a tray. Your laugh is quiet, you don’t look at him, but whatever tension had built in the bedroom dissipates with the sound.

Even so, he shoots off a text to Penelope while you’re preoccupied with your spaghetti, asks if she can lend you a helping hand for the next few days if you need one. You shouldn’t need the sling for more than a week anyway. She responds with a smiley face and a kiss almost immediately. It’s not the first time in his life he’s thanked whatever mystical force is responsible for Penelope Garcia.

Spencer will corral you to the doctor’s office for a checkup in a few days, he’ll make sure you do your stretches, he’ll set alarms for your painkillers. And, ultimately, he’ll come back if you ask him to. He’ll help you in and out of your pyjamas if that’s what you want, of course he will.

Regardless of the way it sets his insides aflame. He’ll do it for you.

yes i know reader inserts are blank slates yes this apartment is basically just my own flat no i don’t care thank u🧡🧡

#acts of service as a love language is so underrated he just wants to hELP YOU!!!!#AAUUGGGHHHHHH anyway #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #the canyouniverse #lou writes

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arashi-no-saxlphone · 2 months

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Asuka's fundamental misunderstanding of personhood and the value of identity is one of the most fucking compelling things about him when you think about him - he has such poor self-esteem that he doesn't even understand his own identity or value so it makes so much sense that he's constantly fucking up everyone around him when it comes to their identity and bodily autonomy. He mentions at one point that he never felt in control of his life and never really made his own decisions - he didn't even want to become a scientist but felt pushed into it. He doesn't understand the emotions of others, he cares only about "reality" because that's what his whole life has been - reality, logic, the "correct" answer. So when Aria gets sick, he cryofreezes her. When she says she doesn't want to miss out on time with Frederick, he makes him immortal. When the Gears are planned to he used as weapons, he figures "Oh I'll make Aria into a command gear - won't matter if she gets to be woth Frederick, right?" basically RIGHT after a drama CD shows us that she values her own person immensely and who she is - she says that to Frederick. Then, when he tries to bring her back by creating the Jack-O Valentine unit, he's likely kind of perplexed by the fact that she's developed her own personality! Hell, he's probably baffled at the fact that Frederick seems to treat her like Jack-O and not Aria, but fuck me man, Frederick probably does that because he fucking remembers what Aria taught him about identity!! And after! Al of this! Asuka! Goes to the moon! And CLONES HIMSELF TO TRY AND UNDERSTAND IDENTITY AND WHO HE IS!!! HE FIGHTS BATTLE DATA OF ALL THESE PEOPLE TO TRY AND SEE IF HE CAN UNDERSTAND WHY EVERYTHING THAT MATTERS TO THEM MATTERS SO MUCH TO THEM! I am so sick. Do you get it? This man is so twisted but he isn't EVIL! He's just a little fucked up, and I think that all this is why he loves Frederick so much - this is the man who is everything he wants to be. He's sure of himself: he's the "find a way or make one" guy! Asuka spends so much time trying to quantify and understand the one thing that can't be measured with his understanding of "reality:" Humanity and love and emotions. BUT HE'S TRYING SO FUCKING HARD TO LEARN. You gotta see my vision you gotta see it I feel so fucking bad for this man.

#sairambles #guilty gear #asuka r kreutz #sol badguy #Frederick bulsara #aria hale #jack o valentine #asuka r sharp #can't do the pound sign cause it just makes another tag LOL #ugh I'm sorry I was thinking about being a real person and identity and it made like #30 pieces about Asuka and Aria and Jack-O slide into place like a jimmy neutron brain blast

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rebo-chan · 22 days

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Something I was thinking about lately is Tsuna's daddy issues. Specifically this frame.

Like that's such a loaded thing to think about. He's got so much resentment built up. Obviously, there's no direct connection to any of Tsuna's issues made but I think a few fun things can be said from this. In general, Tsuna clearly didn't have a father figure in his life which sorta results in him leaning on Reborn pretty often. Tsuna doesn't have a very stable self-esteem with him going from confident to "Aah, Gokuderas going to become disillusioned with me now that all my flaws have been pointed out." GOKUDERA. His FIRST SUBORDINATE. The guy who literally has been LOYAL FROM DAY ONE. Not that we consider them canon, but this happens also during the filler arcs where Daemon points out that Tsuna's not worth following to Gokudera and it seems to make Tsuna a little antsy. He DOES NOT THINK THE PEOPLE HE LOVES ARE GOING TO STAY WITH HIM, THIS IS LITERALLY RUINING MY LIFE. What Daddy Issues DO TO A MF. But that's a post for another day. But okay, back to Reborn, Reborn proves himself to be immovable from Tsuna's life. The story points out that Tsuna very much has two fathers. The one who won't leave and the one who is always gone. Tsuna really leans on Reborn throughout the series. "Reborn, what do I do?" Is a common thing he says, until Reborn is literally swept away from him against his will in Future arc where he's forced to think that he's half a person in Reborns absence. Meanwhile, we have Iemitsu who Tsuna has resentment built up towards, does not respect, and is forced to acknowledge in order to win his fight. Throughout the rainbow arc battle, they try to point out that Iemitsu is trying to teach Tsuna something here and unless I'm confused (someone feel free to tell me?) it's not really clear WHAT that is. And I've always thought that was neat, because it's obviously coming from Tsuna's inability to respect Iemitsu enough to want to learn anything from him. Yet when Reborn comes in, hell he doesn't even recognize him in his Adult form, but he politely listens and takes his advice seriously. In the grand scheme of the series, Reborn is a good teacher and father figure in his life. When Tsuna is made to feel like that he can't do anything in Reborn's absence during Future, Reborn takes a step back in that arc and lets him learn to survive without his guidance. (Notice how the training almost entirely disappears after Future.) He lets him learn how to be a person without him, only stepping in to help when Tsuna really needs it. When he's unable to light his flame, with Spanner, or when he's freaking out about the Irie reveal, the list really goes on. There's a scene I recall I believe when Yuni asks to join their group, Tsuna still turns to ask Reborn what to do, and Reborn redirects him by asking him what he wants to do. That it was his call as a boss. And Tsuna ends up making the decision to help her off his own accord.

It's with Reborn's guidance that Tsuna ends up learning to be his own person, it's this guidance that allows him to make the decision and gather everyone on his own accord when it was Reborn's turn to be shaky and give up. Where Tsuna tells him that he's got this under control, without his guidance. To just watch him. "you've always knew I could win before." It's this arc where Reborn's pride in Tsuna shines. Multiple times. "Surprise me again, Tsuna." And he does. It's in Reborn's second absence where Tsuna feels himself get shaky again, feels the old feelings of poor self image crop up, that Reborn comes back. Because Reborn is not Iemitsu, and he wasn't someone who left him in that house alone forever. Because he's still young and has much to learn before he's ready to do this on his own. It's at this he feels a little embarrassed about how glad he is that Reborn came back, but then recalls the "mean words" that Reborn said before leaving. It's here that Reborn tells him it's a good thing he hasn't changed much. Another sliver of guidance that Tsuna takes in from the figure in his life that won't leave him alone in that house.

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #sawada tsunayoshi #r27 #platonic?#familial?#idk but #i was having feelings about those two #when i remembered that panel #thank you for reading my messy lil ramblings #<3

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izzyspussy · 10 months

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re: those fic ideas always going around about roy bidding on jamie at the next for the children gala

i like imagining sheryl is out for fucking blood this time. she lost jamie that year, then he wasn't there the next (two?) year(s), so now she's fucking determined. she's going to get him god damn it.

so sheryl bids like £6k or whatever, and then keeley as a sort of nostalgic thing bids £8k, and then sheryl bids £10k and there's no bex this year so it seems like maybe that's going to be that, but then roy bids. (he would have stayed out of it if keeley kept bidding, she is an acceptable winner.)

and roy. he's not lazy, obviously, but he hates tedium, he hates repeating himself, he hates attention except for what he wants attention for specifically lmao, and he's got plenty of money to burn. he has something to get done and he wants it done quickly and decisively. so instead of doing normal bids like a normal person, whatever sheryl bids he fucking doubles it.

so he bids £20k. she bids £25k. he bids £50k. she's getting frustrated, she's not into paying this much, but she's fucking determined!! she wants him!!! so she bids £51k. roy bids £102k. everyone's like.... bro omg.

jamie up on stage is like that's so much fucking money. hey, rebecca? hey? that's so much fucking money, actually. that's enough. call it. he gets it, he won. that's so much fucking money. (and like it's part genuine, that really is SO much fucking money, and jamie may be rich now but he grew up poor and that is a lot of fucking money!! but also it's a great excuse to wrap this up, to say okay roy won it's over! and get down.)

and rebecca - slightly shell shocked tbh, but also kind of reading how eager jamie is to get down - is like okay yeah he won that's it. a date with jamie tartt sold to roy kent for 102,000 fucking pounds. and she sends jamie on his way, and there's a lull between him and the next person because everyone is sort of stuck here.

because obviously, no one in this room knows why roy bid, nevermind why he would bid so fucking much. they don't know he didn't necessarily want to win so much as he wanted to make sure no one else did. they don't know he's been haunted by the joke he and keeley made back then ever since he figured out why it was so upsetting to jamie - even though, to be perfectly frank, jamie hasn't figured that out himself, and anyway it didn't make a lasting impression on him, like, it honestly was not that big of a deal in reality, but you know roy kent, any chance he gets to feel like a bad guy he's taking it. so to the outside point of view, roy wanted jamie so bad he was willing to spend £102k to get him. which is honestly a wild bid from anyone, nevermind a) a man and b) a man who could just ask jamie to hang out whenever he wants.

jamie goes right over to him as soon as he gets down from the stage, and he thanks him, and roy tells him he's just making up for last time, and jamie hardly even remembers what he's talking about but it's really fucking nice of him to even care, so he gives him a hug and he says thanks again, not just for this, and roy says he's been fucking honored, and jamie tears up and calls him a prick because they both know he knew that would happen if he said that, and roy does his sinister little laugh because he meant it but he did also do that on purpose, yeah.

and then jamie's like move i'm gay to whoever is sitting next to roy so he can take that seat, because roy just paid £102k (and made quite the grand gesture) so his date with jamie starts right now and goes for as long as roy fucking wants it to thank you very much.

#jack facts #ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #royjamie #hc

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iovetecchou · 7 months

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That Funny Feeling ⧸ Dazai Osamu

༞ Contains...! !TW! this fic contains heavy topics such as: suicide, depression, anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. hurt/comfort type beat, hugging, gentle touches, hand holding, swearing, suggestive implications but NOTHING actually happened! kunikida is just silly, dazai really is a sweetheart in this ):

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,494 words.

a/n: if you have struggled with your own mental health past or present, just know that you are not alone. i love you and am so proud of you for still being here and pushing through each day, no matter how difficult that can be. never be afraid to rely on someone close to you when things become too much to bear, you are worthy of living and deserve to be loved.

Some people just aren't cut out for life. We are all dealt a hand, some cards interchangeable. But for the most part, they mold us; and make us who we are. They map out the rest of our lives. So what are you supposed to do when all the cards you've been handed don't play in your favor?

Even the interchangeable cards; you discard them only to pick up more rotten ones. Your judgment is poor, and your decision-making only gets you stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You envy the people who were gifted better cards. People who were not condemned from the start. Those are the people who make something out of their lives, the ones who are deserving of taking up space.

You know this sounds self-deprecating, and yeah, it is. But to you, it's also logic. You think that's why you dislike Dazai Osamu.

When he talks so freely about death, his desire for a perfect suicide. It makes your stomach turn, not for obvious reasons, but for selfish ones. He plays off his pain as a joke so no one thinks twice about it when he asks a pretty stranger to "commit a double suicide" with him.

You try so hard to conceal your suicidal thoughts, hiding your depression behind a pretty mask. Showing up to work each day with a smile on your face and a "can do!" attitude.

You and Dazai really are the same in that aspect, masking your pain so it's less noticeable to others around you.

Your abdomen twists into knots when he talks so freely about suicide because it causes your mind to wander and your mask to slip. Dazai always seems to pick up on that slight change in you when it happens, too. His chestnut eyes bore holes into your profile from where he sits beside you. You can feel his eyes on you as you try to smile brighter, putting on a chipper face as Kenji updates you on how the cows on his farm are doing.

You hate it. It feels like he's reading your mind; retaining all your deepest darkest secrets. Does your face really give you away so easily? No... It can't be that. You've been working at the Detective Agency for a long while now, and since then, no one else has ever assumed something was wrong with you.

If they only knew how pitiful your life really was. As much as you love all your colleagues at the Agency, you hate working. Waking up is exhausting, and you dread the repetitive daily routines you're forced to accomplish. On your off days, you sit at home alone- by choice. Interacting with others is draining, and when you're urged to participate in social activities, the anticipation and anxiety eat away at you until the day finally comes.

Much like today, the day you've been letting eat away at you since the mention of a work party was brought to your attention. You practiced different smiles and laughs in the mirror, shaking your head and trying again when your "act" seemed too unnatural. You probably changed your outfit ten times before ultimately deciding on the same old thing you usually wore.

Your hands were coated in perspiration as you balled your fingers, making a fist. You took in a shaky breath as you brought yourself to finally knock on Chief Fukuzawa's door. He welcomed you with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head, stepping aside to let you through. Immediately, you felt his eyes on you. Dazai watched your little performance as you greeted everyone, and when it was finally his turn to watch your act up close and personal- you froze.

His eyes were too intimidating. You felt exposed in front of him. It irked you that he had such an effect on you. Why was it so easy to pretend with everyone else but him?

"Aww, where's my greeting?" Dazai smirked devilishly at you, raising his eyebrows slightly as he leaned in close. All-encompassing, invading your personal space.

You remained quiet. You were on the outside looking in, screaming to yourself to say something- anything. Your gaze shifted to the floor as your hands came up to bunch up the hem of your shirt, rolling it between your fingers; an attempt to self-soothe.

"I..."

"Oi! Stop teasing them, Dazai," Yosano shouted from the kitchen, plum-colored eyes still fixated on the fizzy concoction she began making for herself.

The sound of Yosano's strong voice ripped you from your stupor. Your head shot up, only to notice Dazai was still gazing at you- studying you.

"I would do no such thing! I'm hurt that you think so low of me, Yosano!" Dazai's intense gaze finally eased up on you as he whipped his head around to face Yosano. The tall brunette man clutched a hand over his heart in feigned affliction.

You took that as your opening to slip away, excusing yourself to the restroom. You hardly noticed the way Dazai's attention was drawn back to you at the sound of your hurried footsteps. "Hey- wait up!"

You quickly pulled the bathroom door shut behind you. You could hardly look at yourself in the mirror, too ashamed of yourself for freezing up back there. The cool tile floor welcomed you as you sunk, curling into yourself. You hugged your knees as they drew closely into your chest. You could feel your rapid heartbeat in your throat, anxiety rising by the second.

"You know, I wouldn't be sitting on the floor if I were you. Let's get you up." Nothing registered until you felt firm hands grasp your biceps. A strong force drawing you up to rely upon your shaky legs.

"Why- what are you..?" Your sentence fell off. You weren't entirely sure what you were trying to ask. Your mind was too convoluted with disappointment; shame for yourself.

"The door was unlocked so I figured I'd let myself in! You weren't looking too hot out there, and I wanted to check up on you." Dazai's warm hands still cradled your biceps, untrusting the support your trembling legs half-heartedly gave you in your current state.

"I'm fine," You chuckled out of nervousness before continuing, "I'll be out in a minute, so you can just go." You could tell by how Dazai looked at you that he didn't buy your lie, not even for a second.

He let out a deep sigh, large palms moving up to your shoulders before he blurted out, "Stop, just- just stop. You're not fooling me, so quit it with the peachy-keen act. Why do you insist on hiding behind a facade?"

"Why do you?!" You shouted back. You brought your hands up to swat his hands off your shoulders. The shift between distress and rage made your legs feel more grounded.

Dazai gaped at you for a moment. He genuinely looked taken aback before his face shifted into a tepid expression. He let his arms settle against his sides, his demeanor appearing more taut than usual.

"This isn't about me. Stop deflecting." His voice was eerily calm, making you feel unsettled. Seeing a more serious side to Dazai was far and few between for you.

"But it is! I hate you... I hate you so much. You- you..." Your vision began to blur as tears spilled past your lashline and down your sullen cheeks. How embarrassing, you thought. Crying in front of the man that made your stomach turn.

Dazai brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing away the onslaught of tears with the pad of his thumb. "I believe that hatred is displaced. You just don't want to acknowledge that."

Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as you drew your hand to grasp his wrist. You tugged with all your might to pull him from your cheek, but no give. Dazai stubbornly kept his large palm on your face. The warmth from his hand seared your skin. It was neither comforting nor unpleasant. Just... unfamiliar.

"You're wrong, I hate you-"

"No, you hate that you see yourself in me."

Your hand fell from his wrist. He was right, and deep down, you knew that. But you refused to admit it. It was shameful. You liked to hate Dazai because it took attention away from the real problem at hand, yourself.

Dazai let out a sigh as he continued to wipe away your tears. "Tell me to stop if you hate it, but I'm going to hug you now." Before you could process, Dazai embraced you. His hand that was caressing your face only moments ago now cradled your neck. His other arm wrapped around your frame, enveloping you.

"I understand your pain well... I can see myself in you too. But I don't despise you, you know. I actually... worry for you. You try so hard to pretend that everything is fine. It must be exhausting."

It felt like your heart was being squeezed, as if your ribcage was collapsing in on itself. His words shot right through you, as did the guilt. You had been so unfair toward Dazai up until now. Using your displaced disdain for him as a distraction because you were too much of a coward to hold yourself accountable.

It ached so much to come to terms with. Your arms felt heavy as you pulled them up to wrap around Dazai's lanky frame. You quietly sobbed into his chest, grasping your hands into the back of his shirt desperately; as a small child would cling to their mother.

Dazai hummed softly into your hair, welcoming the silence with open arms; as he did you. You were sure all your colleagues were wondering why Dazai and yourself had been in the restroom for so long, but you hardly cared at this very moment.

For the first time, in a long time, you felt seen. Like you didn't need to hide when Dazai was in your presence... because even if you did- he would know. Being vulnerable felt similar to what you imagined walking a tightrope hung across two tall skyscrapers entailed. So, to say you were apprehensive about this was an understatement.

However, in the same breath, it felt freeing. It took a little bit of weight off your shoulders to share your burdens with another person. But never in a million years did you think the person who brought you solace would end up being Dazai Osamu.

"I'm sorry, Dazai- I'm so fucking sorry. I-"

"It's okay. Believe me, I treated people a lot worse than this from my own displaced hatred," Dazai interrupted. Caressing your hair softly, hyperaware of the wet feeling seeping through his shirt and smearing over his skin from your tears before he continued,

"Just... just promise me you'll talk to me if it ever becomes too unbearable to handle on your own. I know how it sounds coming from me, I'm a hypocrite- huh? But trust me when I tell you… you are deserving of this thing we call living. Even if you can't see it yourself, I can... and I will remind you of that fact until I'm blue in the face if I have to."

You pulled back from Dazai's chest as you sniffled, eyes scanning his stoic face. He smiled at you softly, rubbing up and down the sides of your arms in a comforting way. "There you are. I was beginning to think you cried your face off!" You chuckled at his dumb quip, letting your fingers untangle from the cloth adorning Dazai's back.

"Well, this is embarrassing... and I'm sure at this point all the others think were up to no good in here." It was Dazai's turn to laugh as his hands drifted lower, grasping yours softly. Your fingers intertwined as a lopsided grin painted your face.

"So let 'em! Who cares? The only thing that matters is that your heart is beating and you're here. Still standing in front of me." Your smile dropped slightly, the urge to cry bubbling back up, making your throat tighten.

"Dazai," You tightly squeezed his hands within your grasp. Scared that if you loosened your grip for even a second, this moment would be gone before you could say everything you needed to. "I'm really glad you're still here, too."

Dazai closed his eyes for a moment, his smile wavering. "There's so much pain in the world... sometimes it's hard not to notice it. I couldn't shut it out every time I felt your distress. That's why I kept a close eye on you all this time. I'm not just some creep with a staring problem,"

You both laughed at that sentiment before he continued, "I know with each day those painful thoughts are waiting for you. But it's not only that, there's also possibilities. Possibilities you can only discover as long as you're alive."

Your hands still clutched his with great force. His words caused you to cry once more as Dazai's eyes softened. He quietly cooed at you, whispering "don't cry," so gently, it was almost inaudible.

"Dazai... I hope you know the same can be said for you, and your life," You paused, trying to swallow that lump in your throat before you continued. "I... want to help you- help you live. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but as long as you're still here I will do whatever I can to help you. I swear it."

Your tear-filled eyes bored into his chestnut ones. Desperately hoping your words got through to him. Dazai inhaled a shaky breath, eyebrows raising slightly. His lips curved into a tight-lipped smile before he let out a small chuckle. "You're really something else, you know that? Not even ten minutes ago you were shouting about how much you hate me. Now we're best buds... how cute!"

You knew he was deflecting, you guessed being vulnerable was just as daunting to him as it was for you. Before you could say anything more, the door flung open. Both Dazai and yourself whipped your heads in the direction of Kunikida shouting.

"Dazai! Just what do you think you're doing- wait a damn minute! What did you do to Y/N to make them cry?! Get away from them this instant you damn pervert!"

Kunikida gripped Dazai by the collar, dragging him out of the restroom. When your hands untangled from his, you felt uneasy. There was so much more you wanted to say, but it would just have to wait... for now.

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at the sound of Dazai shouting for you to help prove his innocence from presumably the living room. For the first time since you stepped into the bathroom, you looked at yourself. Taking in your disheveled state.

Ah, there it is again. That funny feeling.

don't accuse me of making this a self-insert, i will cry!

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai x reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #dazai angst #dazai osamu angst #dazai osamu bsd #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you

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thekitsunesiren · 2 years

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I love Danny adopted by the Batfam. Really, I do. But picture: Danny adopted by Gotham herself.

Gotham: the city that has become the definition of death, doom and destruction. Even with her favored Dark Knight and his robins helping to make her city safer, the pit of despair and everlasting gloom doesn't seem to let up.

But then, he entered her city.

A young man with black hair and blue eyes that reminds her so much of her hero and some of the children that he's adopted over the years. But there was more to him. So much more.

This child wasn't no human, she could sense that straight away. The cold that surrounded him and caused even the darkest of her shadows to reach out to him for more of the power it leaked out. The smell of death that came off the child in waves. But she Gotham knew that this one wasn't a killer, no. Somehow this child has died and came back. Just like her Jason. How strange. Then she saw it. His transformation. A ghost. This poor child has knocked on deaths' door and has continued to walk among the living as if nothing has changed.

But even then the city didn't have time to mourn for the loss of this child's life when she felt the power that radiated off of him. Eyes as green as the lazarus pits, with the powers that she's never seen before. On human or meta.

Yet the thing that stuck with Gotham the most, was how he was so protective. This wasn't even the boys city, yet more than once Gotham witnessed him helping out where Batman and his family could not. Whether it was stopping the robbery late at night, fighting off a few goons or even helping the homeless youths.

Gotham saw him as he really was: a hero, a savior, but most importantly, alone. So she made the decision: The Batman and his robins could only do so much, she could always use someone to talk to.

Yes. Danny would be hers. Gotham's Guardian of the unseen. Gotham's Ghost.

-----

So basically I had a idea of Gotham just sensing Danny as soon as he stepped into Gotham and going like: Him. I want that one.

Of course, Gotham had manifested into her own ghost form over all of the years. The death, gloom, and maybe even pits had their own hand at that. But she knew that she couldn't do much, even with a physical form, the most that she could do is watch and protect from the shadows. So when Danny arrived to Gotham, it was like her own prayers were answered.

A fighter, strong, kind, and in need of something to drive his need to protect. He was perfect!

So, she did the best that she could:

Using the little abilities to tug him towards the trouble.

Making sure wherever he lives is safe and free of any intruders.

And when Batman becomes aware of his presence, hiding him in the depth of his shadows that not even the Dark Knight could see into.

Does Bruce become mad with paranoia over the possible meta that seems to be everywhere and gone before he arrived as if he lived there his whole life? Yes. Does she care? No.

Because Gotham knows that with time, Danny will come to his own terms to make himself known to Batman and they will become a force unstoppable!

But for now, Gotham needs her ghost to help and protect when Bruce can't, so she won't be letting Danny go anytime soon.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #fanfic prompt #dp crossover #dp au

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melodic-haze · 28 days

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I HAD NO IDEA U WROTE FOR HSR OMG.. what do you think of bratty sub seele who just wants you to put her in her place?? i love her so bad i feel sick omfgjdksn

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Seele x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader has a cock/strap referred as such 🤷‍♀️, rough sex, impact play, dumbification, orgasm denial, vibrator use, implied public vibe play :3

☆ — NOTES: 🌈THE MORE YOU KNOW🌈 YES I DO WRITE FOR HSR!!! I've been on the grind recently too. Like initially I found it kinda boring but I came back bc of Acheron so now I have it running in auto the bg while I'm doing coursework. I'm waiting for Robin but I'm still in FUCKING XIANZHOU 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Bratty sub Seele ohhhhhmygod anon I think I'm going to COMBUST dude

All that bravado and what does she use it on? Fucking pissing you off to the high heavens above

She's a headstrong character!! She don't gaf ab what anyone thinks when she KNOWS she's in the right (and even when she's wrong she'll still put up a fight lmfao)

Unfortunately for you (or fortunately, whichever way you look at it 🤷‍♀️), she LOVES going out of her way to be deliberately infuriating too, making sure you're watching her all the while

You're glad that Seele and Bronya are enjoying themselves. Really, you are! Having Belobog united again proved to be a good decision, and having them spearhead the tides of change turned out to be more than beneficial.

..But for some reason, today just seemed off. You don't know why, but you felt irritated.

Maybe it was what you ate this morning, maybe it was something that happened yesterday.. or maybe it was how Seele behaved.

You accompanied her to help with the efforts to unify all of Belobog once again, but ypu feel yourself regretting it when you see how.. business seems to be conducted.

It started off as small touches here and there; the Wildfire member giving Belobog's brand new Guardian a pat on the back, or a touch on her shoulder to grab her attention when the latter was focused on the paperwork in front of her. But then it progressed—Seele leaning into Bronya's back to read something that caught her attention, holding her hand when it isn't really necessary...

Of course body contact isn't really rare between the two—they formed some kind of bond when Bronya was stuck in the Underground—but there was just something extra annoying to how your girlfriend had haphazardly draped herself on the Silvermane Commander's body.

You did feel bad for feeling this way, especially when Bronya was involved because the poor girl did nothing wrong! But when you see the Underworlder smirk right at you as she went to hug the new Guardian for a problem now solved?

It was really hard not to get annoyed.

What's worse is that it seems that Seele knew that well.

You try to drag her away for a little "break" and she fully denies ANYTHING she's done

"You know," she says with a smug grin, "if you're going to try and help, then you should probably start by analysing what we do less and helping us with the work more."

You crossed your arms, "Don't know if you've noticed, but I have been doing it. Oh, but you were practically all over Bronya, so it's no surprise you didn't notice a thing."

She shrugged, "I've just been showing my appreciation for her efforts. Being the Supreme Guardian seems like a hassle, so."

While you do agree, you can't help but feel your blood boil a little at the smug look on her face.

She knew what she was doing.

And you can't have that.

You don't drag her back home immediately, no. You did still have a job to do, and it'd be rude to leave Bronya alone last minute!!! But when you were basically allowed to go, you drag her back IMMEDIATELY. She's gonna be complaining all the while, and even if you snap at her and tell her to behave she won't. It's like she WANTS to be punished (she does 🤷‍♀️)

And when you do get home? Ohhh you need to take action right that very second bc she'd STILL a huge loudmouth, she won't shut her gob about how you're 'overreacting' or something........so you may as well use that mouth for something

Instead of snapping at her, snap your hips to her mouth 🥰 let that dick fill her mouth up, give her something else to do aside from constantly talk shit and essentially dig her grave even more than necessary!!! Don't hold back either, cuz if you do then she's gonna taunt you. "'s that the best you've got? Please," she'd go. Make her work on you before absolutely ABUSING her face, make her gag and forget whatever retort she had ready. Oh, she wanted you to be rougher?? She better not come crying to you by the time you're done 🫶

You pull out of her after a bit but you're not done. Oh NOnonono absolutely not lol you turn her around and push her down so she's on all fours with her back facing you. You have to punish her thoroughly, you can't just leave it half-assed!!! Slap her ass hard, do NOT hold anything back this bitch is gonna keep whining you like a little brat otherwise. You need to discipline her properly, so keep abusing her backside until it's all red and her eyes are glazing over

Oh, but what's this???? Despite the fact that she's yelping and screaming from every hit you inflict on her, when you palm her cunt you realise that she's soaking wet down there, and she only gets wetter the more you spank her. Is your poor little baby actually getting off on this?? Actually pathetic lol

Just like everything else in your session, fuck her fast and HARD. Absolutely abuse her hole down here just like you did her other one until she can't even form fucking words anymore. Don't stop spanking her either!!! So much would be happening at once and her tiny little brain won't be able to handle it, turning into mush as you fuck her sooooo dumb

The pace you went at was absolutely relentless, only ever stopping when you felt tired, not if she needed a break. And why would you ever ask her if she needed a break? Even as she kept begging you to stop because it feels too much, she can't think anymore, why would you ever consider actually thinking about her? If she really wanted you fo stop, you both know that the safeword is right there.

Plus with the way Seele looks right now—mouth agape as drool trailed down her chin, eyes rolled back, slick coating your cock and her thighs—you don't really think she wants to stop. Quite the opposite, actually.

"Is this.. what you wanted the entire time?" You grunted as you pulled her neckerchief up to get her closer to you and maybe cut off her breathing, but when you feel her buck against you with moan, you find that she isn't complaining in the least. Your force never falters as you spoke, "Me having my way.. with you.. and reminding you where you belong?"

You hadn't really expected an answer from her in this state, not like you cared when you were more concerned about essentially reducing her into nothing but your pretty little fleshlight, but you see her nod shakily.

When she hums out in agreement, it comes out as more of a whine when your tip hits that particular spot inside her, "Y-- Yeeeesss..! Fuuuck, I've been sss-- such a bad girl-- ohfuckfuckFUCK right thereee... I'll do whate-- whatever you want just pleasepleasepleaseeee don't stop I'm almost--"

You rolled her eyes, "If you wanted attention, all you had to do was say so.. but if you love this so much then what's stopping me from just--" you let go of her neckerchief and slipped yourself out while your palm hits her stinging skin particularly hard, "--taking it all away from you?"

There, she lets out the biggest fucking whine as she drops before she screams out, her legs quivering and her pussy fluttering around nothing. Her cum gushes out of her, wetting the surface underneath you, as her body shook at the force of her orgasm.

"I didn't give you permission to cum, baby."

"'m.. s-sorryyy... Please don't be mad, I--"

"'Sorry' this, 'please' that, you get the opportunity to be a dumb brat and you take it happily but the moment it's something you want, you try to be a good girl." You turn her around so that she's facing you and you hit her inner thigh with a glare, to which she sobs so pathetically, "You're being selfish, Seele. I think I need to break you in again, make you remember how you behave."

Her breath hitches and she looks at you with such wide and teary eyes, but you know with the way her pupils are blown wide that she more than wants this.

By the time you're near finished, you COULD actually have her cum on your terms.....OR you could absolutely deny her of that privilege because really, why would you ever reward her for being a little shit????

Pull out of her when she hits her peak and make her suck your cock as you put a vibrator in her pussy in the lowest possible fucking setting. She's gonna whine and plead you to help her finish but don't help her 🤷‍♀️ tell her to leave it in until tomorrow's day ends. If she doesn't act like a whore like she did today then you'll reward her greatly!!!! But if not? Then you'll be doing this all over again, having the vibe in her and stimulating her in public until she learns to behave

That's what she wanted after all—to be punished appropriately

She acts like she's against it too, but if she was then she would've made it genuinely known and she could take it out herself.....but when you see her put her clothes on the next day with the toy peeking out before she coves it up with her panties, well. Doesn't seem like she really hates it after all 🫶

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