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rinhaler · 5 months

Note

toji fucking his step daughter because his wife won’t give him any attention and she’s the second best thing :3

-🌹

daddy toji my beloved :3

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, praise (good girl), biting, age gap, stepcest, cheating, daddy kink, creampie, bimbofication, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation.

words: 2k

Toji doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, whenever he sees you floating around the house. You’re confident, that he knows. Short skirts and tiny t-shirts are usually your go to attire, whether you’re at home or going out with your friends, you often dress scantily.

He tried scolding you about it, but you didn’t listen. And his wife, well, maybe if she supported him more he wouldn’t be thinking such oh so inappropriate things about his cute little step daughter.

“Where is she?” you ask, rudely, snapping Toji from his thoughts as you lean across the breakfast bar. He has to force himself to not look down your top, your cleavage on full display. Though his eyes do slip downward when he realises you aren’t even looking at him, too engrossed with your phone. “Said she’d give me money t’get my nails done.” you tell him, and he now knows you’re referring to your mother.

“She’s back to school shopping with Megumi.” he tells you, breaking his stare from your low cut crop top and looking into your eyes. Have you always been so skanky?

You’re a grown woman. He can’t believe you’re still leaching off of your mother. Nails can’t be that expensive. You should get a job and pay for them yourself. What makes you so special that you just get whatever you want just because you asked?

“Oh, well, you’ll have to gimme it.” you smile at him briefly before texting your friends again. You don’t even notice when he scoffs, shaking his head in disappointment.

What’s annoying him more is the fact that you’re reminding him so much of your fucking mother. Before she grew up, before they grew old, she was exactly like you. Vapid and gorgeous. She had him wrapped around her little finger back in the day, and he’s sure you are the same with every boy you come into contact with.

He feels his cock strain against his slacks as he thinks about all of hot and wild sex they used to have back then. Honestly, these days, he doesn’t remember the last time he got his dick wet. Now he’s just a miserable, pent up dad in a regular marriage. That’s life though, right? That’s just what happens as you get older.

Your wife loses interest and you develop a porn addiction.

“I’m not pay—”

You silence him as you pull your old school pink flip phone to your ear and hold up a finger in front of him, smiling when you hear your friends voice. “Yeah I’ll be there in thirty! Daddy’s givin’ me the money.” you beam at him, your shoulders bouncing as you talk excitedly.

Toji shakes his head again, reaching into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

He’s wrapped around your finger, like mother like fuckin’ daughter.

“I’m not fucking Satoru!” you tell your friend, rolling your eyes. Your step father freezes, for just a moment, before pulling out some money from his wallet. You look down at his hand and see the pitiful amount, taking his wallet from him and stealing a few extra bank notes while you rest your phone between your ear and shoulder. “Ugh. No one believes me! Do you? Whenever I tell anyone ‘m a virgin they think I’m lying.”

“Hang up the phone.” Toji tells you, but you barely hear him. You look at him for a split second before focusing on the call again.

“No, I didn’t! I sucked him off and that’s all I’ve done.” you huff. “Also my step dad is here so, like, stop talking about it.”

“Kid, hang up the fuckin’ phone.” he tells you, louder.

“Wait a sec,” you tell your friend, moving the phone away from your ear. “What?”

“Hang. Up.”

“Oh my God!” you moan, “I’ll meet you there, Toji wants to talk to me— yeah I’m probably getting in trouble because of you! Hahaaaa okay, byeeee~!” you smile, hanging up and giving your full attention to your step-father. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you. Not for a while, not until the silence makes you too uncomfortable to keep it going. “Is this ‘cuz of the money? You didn’t give me enough.”

“I— no, sweetheart.” he shakes his head. “Were you lyin’ to your friend, just now? About being a virgin?”

“Hm? No, why?”

Toji huffs out a breath, his cheeks filling with air as he thinks things through. He’s shocked, to say the least. He always thought you were putting out like a pro. He knows you’ve been on birth control for years. He’s had to drive you to get your injection a few times. He never thought about it much, just a regular dad chore when your mother wasn’t available.

But you’re a woman, now.

He’s surprised you haven’t been fucking since you were a teenager. But he’s even more surprised that you aren’t sexually active, now. He can’t help but wonder why. What’s stopping you? You dress like a slut, after all. Why aren’t you acting like one?

He reaches over and grabs his wallet and the money from your hand. You want to protest, but he walks by you too quickly for you to object. He hurries up the stairs and slams the door after himself.

“A— Am I grounded?!” you yell, hoping for a response.

Nothing.

You follow up the stairs, running up them as best you can in your high heels, and wait outside of his bedroom door. You knock a few times, and get no response. So you begin to pound on the door.

“Toji! You can’t ground me anymore!”

“You’re not grounded, come here.” he instructs. You open the door and walk into the room. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, belt unbuckled and zipper down. He must be changing into something comfier to wear around the house. “Sit.” he tells you, patting his hand on his lap.

You go to him, immediately, sitting sweetly on his thick thighs as he thinks about what to say.

“Didn’t realise you were such a good girl,” he tells you, kissing your shoulder softly. “You’re like a nice version of your mother.”

“Should divorce her if y’don’t like her, daddy.” you tell him, looking down at your imperfect nails. You giggle when you feel him bounce you on his leg.

“Maybe I should.” he tells you. “But I’ll be lonely.”

“You’ll have me ‘n Megumi!” you remind him. “Well, maybe not me as much, but, y’know.”

“Ah, sweetheart, don’t wanna lose you. Not now, not ever.” he kisses your shoulder again. “How come you’re a virgin, huh? Savin’ it?”

“Mhmm… wanna give it to someone special.” you tell him, looking his direction and batting your pretty, false eyelashes. “Everyone thinks ‘m a slut… but ‘m not! Promise! Makes me embarrassed that I haven’t done it yet, sometimes, though.”

His cock aches as he hears you talk. How dumb yet adorable you sound as you discuss your sex life, or lack there of. He isn’t even a little surprised that people don’t believe you, he wouldn’t have believed it himself if you hadn’t told him. He can see in your pathetically wet eyes, though, that you’re being truthful.

He is overwhelmed by the need to bare his soul to you. To tell you what he wants. What he needs and desires from you most right now. There’s no shame within him as he puts his hand down his pants and wraps his hand around his cock, pulling it free. He holds your body in place with his free hand, his arm possessing enough strength to keep you firmly in place.

You’re just like your mother.

If your mother wasn’t a cold, celibate bitch.

“Daddy wants to be your someone special, darlin’.” he informs you, words warbling as he pleasures himself behind your back.

You can hear it. You can hear the tacky sound of his cock being rubbed again and again. The way his breath and speech is slightly uneven. He sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder and you wince. It’s not too hard, but it was unexpected.

He’s surprised you don’t object when he splits your legs apart so that you’re straddling one of his thighs. His hand roams up your thigh and beneath your skirt, towards your clothed cunt. Though when he gets too close, your legs shut, quickly.

“You’re my daddy, you can’t touch me there!” you remind him. But he knows. He knows he’s your daddy and that’s exactly why you should let him. Admittedly, part of you wants him to. You want to feel someone make contact with your untouched core for the very first time.

Someone that isn’t you.

You’re sure Toji is very experienced. He’s so handsome, even now. You’ve seen pictures of him when he was your age over two decades ago. He’s beautiful, like a film star. You know he was fucking like it was going out of fashion.

Your mother has told you what a stallion he is in bed, you’re close like that. There’s no secrets or shame between you. And honestly, it did make you feel a little jealous. You felt like you were missing out on something. Sex, in general, and Toji.

But you never thought you’d be like this, with him.

“Baby, who’s gonna make you feel more special than your daddy, hah?” he asks. You feel your resolve weakening as he kisses your neck deliciously. You want to scream at him, to tell him where you want him to touch you.

He teases your body until your arching and squirming to follow his touch. And you practically cream around his thigh when he lifts up your top and tweaks your nipple. You’re weightless in his hold as he moves you around like you’re his little doll. He licks and laves over your pulse point while playing with your tits. His free hand moves your panties aside with a goal in mind. Two thick fingers slide effortlessly into your tight, virgin slot. The resistance is there but he ignores it. You ignore it.

And within minutes you’re having your first orgasm on account of another person. You aren’t sure why your mother has stopped having sex with Toji, you’d be begging him for it every chance you got if this brief encounter is anything to go by.

“Fuck me, daddy, please? Please—”

“Thought daddy’s can’t touch their little girls there?” he smirks, already helping you turn around to face him. He kisses you, sloppily, as he lines his thick cock up with your tight hole. “Sh, sh, shhh, baby… good girl, c’mon, take daddy’s cock. Jus’ like that.” he talks you through it as you sob. Little cunt stretching to accommodate his monstrous size.

“T-Too big! Daddy’s too big for me!” you tell him, though he silences you with another kiss.

Truth be told, he doesn’t particularly care if it hurts or not anymore. He doesn’t care if you can’t take him, because you will. He does all of the work for you, lifting you up and down like a toy while he thrusts up into you.

He almost cums from the sight of your eyes turning white and your tongue hanging out as he pummels into your sweet spot. He wonders if you’ll keep telling your friends you’re a virgin. It’ll be a fun little secret, for both of you, he thinks.

He finishes with a string of grunts, fucking his seed deep into you again and again until he’s got nothing left to give.

You feel so icky and sweaty as he starts to calm down from his release. He kisses you, sweetly, thanking you repeatedly. He needed this badly. It’s not even just sex anymore. He’s tired of feeling lonely and he’s tired of being neglected.

You’re not your mother though, are you?

You won’t make him feel like that.

“Don’t tell her, sweetheart.” he tells you, brushing your hair from your face and kissing your cheek. He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to look at him as he speaks. “This stays between you ‘n me, alright?”

“Mhmm!” you nod, leaning forward eagerly to kiss his lips. “Always wanted you to be my special person…” you confess.

“Yeah?” he smiles at that, you really are sweet when you want to be.

“Wanna do it again, daddy. Can we?”

“Of course,” he nods, “I’m addicted to this little pussy, now.”

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urdepressedslut · 8 months

Text

The Collection

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky arrives home and panics when he notices you calling for him from your room, but upon entering— he realizes what you have been getting yourself into.

♡ Warnings: superrrrr fluffyyyy 🥹, slight panic, hints to paranoia, hints to PTSD, hints to bucky’s trauma, overall a comfort drabble

main masterlist

A/N: i have been adding to my own squish mallow collection and thought of this 🥰 i’m unhealthily obsessed with squish mallows

Arriving back at your shared apartment, Bucky couldn’t help but notice the amount of time xtra large bags on the kitchen counter. He furrowed his brows in confusion and wandered to the fridge. Opening it in inspection, he didn’t see anything new or added.

You hadn’t gone grocery shopping…

He could hear faint shuffling from your shared room, and he couldn’t help but panic. His mind was brilliant at creating a problem from nothing. He was a professional over thinker— and sometimes it threatened to make his heart give out.

“Baby? I’m home!” He announced, shimmying off his jacket and making his way to the bedroom.

“James! Come quick— you gotta see something!” You said urgently.

He automatically thought the worst and all his suspicions were suddenly coming through. Visions of you hurt came to mind and he practically sprinted and busted through the door. The knob slamming into the wall with a loud thud.

“(Y/n)? You okay?!” He asked panicked.

His body relaxed at your calm state, only the look of confusion on your face. With a quick scan— he noticed there was nothing wrong with the room or you. In fact, if anything was different— it were the many new plushies on the bed.

Releasing a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in, and ran a hand through his hair.

“James honey— you alright? Just wanted to show you my new squishmallows.” You asked him worried, walking over to stand next to him.

Truthfully, if anything he was embarrassed that he’d let himself get in his head again. But after finding you perfectly fine, and organizing your plushies— which he found adorable— he felt fine. He was only happy that you were okay.

“M’fine baby, just thought you were in trouble is all.” He told you honestly.

You softened your gaze to him, grabbing his hand and hiding him to the bed. You gently pushed him down to sit, and he did so willingly.

“I didn’t mean to sound all panicky— was just excited to show you the new ones I got today!” You told him, smiling like the cheshire cat.

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as he looked down at the medium sized squishmallows.

“You know— this is considered an addiction.” He pointed out.

You scoffed, waving him off like it was no big deal.

��Some consider it a hobby actually.” You defended.

He raised his brows in amusement, chuckling again when he saw you being so defensive. He thought you were adorable.

“You’re so cute.” He said out loud, causing your face to grow hot.

After all this time— he was still easily able to make you blush, flustered from his compliments.

You shook off the flush in your face, choosing to pick up a new squishmallow to show him. You held up a medium sized seal squishmallow, to which Bucky smiled at.

“This is a seal one, his name is Remmy.” You told him.

Bucky grabbed it from your hands, giving it a test hug and holding it while you grabbed another one. Next was a longhorn squishmallow, with a ring dangling from its nose.

“This is a bull one, his name is Shep.” You told him, giving it a hug and then passing it to Bucky.

You held back a giggle, Bucky holding the plushies to his chest an adorable sight. Such a tough man with these cute stuffed animals.

“I like his horns.” He noted, fiddling with the plushie.

You picked up the last one, being a bird squishmallow. You smiled wide as you looked at it, this one being your favorite.

“This is my favorite of the three. I think he’s a hawk or something, and his name is Sam.” You explained.

Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started laughing, dropping the other plushies on the bed, he reached out and grabbed the hawk and inspected it.

“Sam, really?” He asked chuckling.

You nodded your head with a sly smile.

“Does our Sam know about this?” He asked again.

“Definitely not— but I’m sure he’d appreciate it.” You told him.

You two laughed at the goofiness and you ended up being pulled by Bucky into the bed. He wrapped you up in his arms and the two of you started cuddling— just melting into each others embrace. The squishmallows surrounded you two while you both drifted off to sleep.

Nothing felt more perfect, nothing felt more right than being in his arms.

“Love you baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Love you more James.” You mumbled into his chest.

TAGLIST: @billy-reads @potatothots @buckyb-stan @kmc1989 @silverfire13 @ghostofwinter @hanihoney88 @stilesofhannah @skittle479 @marvelogic @meetmeatyourworst @engie115 @wilsons-striped-ties @x209x @kandis-mom @l0kilaufeys0n7

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for poisoning a child over mountain dew?

For context, I (17) have a developed a slight addiction to mountain dew over quarantine. it's one of my favorite soft drinks. Every month I buy a case of it with my own money when my parents do their monthly grocery shopping and that is my allotted stashe for the month. However, I've noticed for about two years now that my stashe is running out sooner than I expected, the first few times I've simply thought I miss calculated but later I suspected it was being stolen after I kept rigorous track of how much I drank. I told my parents but they said I shouldn't get so worked up over it, and if I really wanted to keep it safe I should keep it locked up somewhere. So I did. Afterwards, almost weekly I've had our maid/housekeeper(a distant cousin of my mom's- we do pay her) ask me for my soda. I suspected that she might've been the soda stealer so out of spite I refused to give her from "my" stashe, instead offering to buy some/give her the money and she refused. Even after that, a couple months later I've noticed it running out sooner again. I pointed it out to my parents and they did nothing still. I hid my keys. It stopped the stealing for a few weeks but then it started again. I've confronted her about it but she denies it and blames me for for suspecting her when she does so much for us. And my mom refuses to discuss it with her either, saying I'm making such a big deal out of something like soda and that I probably miscalculated anyways. I've taken photographic evidence of my shit going missing (taking a photo before going to school and coming home with a bottle missing) and still she say to "let it go". At this point, it's not even about the soda for me. It's about the fact I brought this shit with my own money and it's being stolen EVEN AFTER I TRIED EVERYTHING TO PREVENT IT and its been going on for TWO YEARS. And I can't help but feel paranoid and suspect her whenever any of my other possessions start disappearing.

Here comes the poisoning part. I've recently developed some gastrointestinal issues, so I have to take prescribed laxatives. I've had enough of my shit being stolen and I've decided whoever steals it needs to shit themselves and maybe then they'll stop. I marked out a few bottles and carefully opened them and mixed in the laxative(About half dose per bottle) before resealing them thoroughly. I put them in front of all the other non-laced drinks so they're the easiest ones to grab. Sure enough, they've been stolen. And a few days later she comes to my mom complaining that her grandson keeps getting diarrhea and she has no idea why. I told her maybe she shouldn't feed a <10 yr old mountain dew and she was like, "How do you know it was the dew that caused it?" I just shrugged and told her I had a hunch, but with the way she stared at me I think she understood what I had did. Later on my mom yelled at me for pulling that stunt, and I was honestly sick of her shit and told her next time I'm mixing in rat poison and I wont even be labeling the laced ones. like. stop taking my shit without asking. especially shit i brought with my own money.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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btsugarush · 1 year

Text

GANGSTA | myg - 002

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 3K

author’s note: sorry if you asked to be on the taglist and didn’t make it. i’ve reached over 50 and couldn’t add anymore people. i’ll add more of you in the comments.

“I’m glad you’re okay after all of that,” Jungkook says on the other end of your phone; you had just spilled about the chaotic situation at Makoto as it was still weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t shake what Jimin had said about that Yoongi guy killing someone, though it could have just been a rumor. If he had actually taken someone’s life there would be no way they would allow him to walk the streets. He’d be too much of a flight risk.

“You should really be careful in the future. I know you like to stand up for people that can’t stand up for themselves, but Yoongi is bad news. There’s no telling what he would’ve done to you on the wrong day.”

“So you know him too?” You quiz. It seemed as though everyone knew who this guy was besides you. Maybe you don’t get out enough. Or maybe you were just good at staying away from trouble– until this afternoon at least. “I know of him, but not personally. He came to the shop once like five months ago with the same tall guy you were talking about. He told my coworker Si-Woo to step outside, and the next thing you know he's pistol-whipping him nearly to death. Rumor around the shop was that Si-Woo sold drugs for Yoongi, and owed him a lot of money.”

“Really?” Your mouth drops in shock. “What did Si-Woo say about it?”

“He never talked about it, ended up quitting the next day, and told us ‘not to get the police involved because it wouldn’t be of any help and it was all just a misunderstanding’.” He quoted. “Well, three days later Si-Woo’s body was found hacked to pieces and stuffed in a suitcase behind an alley on Gongdan lane.”

You heard about that case on the news some time ago, but had no clue that Jungkook knew the victim on an intimate level. It honestly made you shiver a bit. Imagine being the one to discover the body, and how gruesome the sight must have been. Stuff like that was common in slum areas though. Crime was especially high in Gongdan lane of all places, which is why you made sure to never venture in that area. “You think Yoongi had something to do with his murder?”

Jungkook scoffed. “The guy was viciously pistol-whipping him three days before his body was identified. I know he had something to do with it, but none of us were willing to risk going to the cops, so we just moved on like it didn’t happen.” Jungkook pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “You know… sometimes I think that maybe we could’ve saved his life if we did report the incident. Sometimes I still look at his station and feel like he’s there, tattooing.” He sighs heavily, like it was a great weight lifted from his shoulders to even tell you.

“You did what you felt was necessary. As fucked up as it may seem, you had to think about what was best for you.” You try your best to comfort him as he seemed to hold on to a lot of guilt regarding Si-Woo’s death, and reminiscing didn’t help. To have the man who could have potentially murdered your friend roaming free to terrorize all of Daegu couldn’t be a great feeling. You felt for him.

“I know. It’s just fucked to know he went through such a fucked up death. I don’t even want to imagine how scared he must’ve been,” you could hear clanking on the other end, as though he was biting down on his lip piercing. “I don’t even like the thought of knowing you tangled with them. He seems the type to hold grudges, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d lose my shit and go after him myself.”

You smile softly. “And I just know you’d kick his ass, my tough Kookie.” You both laugh at the nickname, which is one of many you had with the word ‘cookie’ in it. You could be so cheesy sometimes, but Jungkook loved everything about it. “You don’t have to worry though, apparently he likes me so maybe I’m in the clear?” You say unsuringly, still not understanding what he meant by it. It was very abrupt and cryptic. “Well whatever he meant, he’s out of luck because you’re spoken for.”

“As if he’d ever had a chance to begin with, I don’t think I’d mesh well with a criminal,” You chuckled. “I’m more into sweet, sensitive guys with tattoos and piercings.”

“Yeah? I think I know someone like that.” You could tell that he’s cheesing on the other end, which made you cheese. Everything always felt so natural with Jungkook. Him being your best friend in high school really played hand in hand with that. He was no different from a lover than he was a best friend. You two were absolutely the same and you loved it.

“You should probably get some sleep now, Angel. You don’t want to go to work exhausted, and I don’t wanna be blamed for you oversleeping again.” You simply roll your eyes in a playful manner, but agree nonetheless. You couldn’t chance being up so late, Mr. Kim was very strict about being on time.

“I guess you’re right,” you pout. “Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I get off work.”

“Okay, Angel. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kookie cake.” You pull your phone from your ear, ending the call before you get up from your bed to switch off your bedroom lights. You crawl back onto the mattress, pulling your blanket over your body. Picking your phone back up again, you swipe through your apps until you locate the clock app. You set your alarm to wake you up at 12:00 PM on the dot. Just as you were about to place your phone down on your nightstand, something overcame you and you got the urge to search Yoongi’s name on Google.

When you type in his name, you are shocked to see so many results come up effortlessly. Several different mugshots from several different instances, all dating from when he was a teenager to one that seemed recent. You click on the one that looks most recent, letting it redirect you to the Daegu booking website.

Name: Min Yoongi

Age: 30

BOOKING DETAIL

Status: Released

Building: Public Safety Building

Area: Maledorm

Booking number: 575857

Booking date: 3/26/2023 11:56:00 pm

ARRESTS

Arrest number: 680071205

Arrest date: 3/26/2023 10:06:00 pm

Arresting agency: Daegu Police Department

Agency case number: 25-18056

ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON

ATTEMPTED FIRST-DEGREE MURDER

POSSESSION WITH INTENT TO SELL

You read over the arrests in shock, completely dumbfounded by how a man of his caliber could be released from jail and not behind bars rotting for the rest of his life. He practically lived in jail anyway, why not just keep him there? You eye his mugshot, his intense stare giving you the chills. You didn’t need to wonder how the officer taking the photo must’ve felt considering you too have felt those daggers looking into the depths of your soul.

You pull your sight away from the photo, swiping away the page. You didn’t want to spend any more time on Yoongi. What happened at Makoto is behind you now. You just wanted to forget about the situation, and never run into Yoongi– or Joon for that matter, again. You plug your phone to your charger, sitting the device on your nightstand before you drift off to sleep.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Mr. Kim looks surprised as you step into the kitchen, taking an apron from the hook on the wall. “Why wouldn’t I show up?” You quirk a brow, tying the black fabric around your waist. “Because I thought you would’ve been too scared to show your face after going toe to toe with the devil’s minions the other day.”

You click your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe people were still on that. Just as you walked in you overheard a customer whispering ‘she’s still alive?’ to her friend. It’s absurd at this point. “I think everyone is blowing what happened yesterday way out of proportion.” You shake your head, grabbing a notepad and pen from the pencil holder.

“I’d like to say we are, kid, but you got lucky. That Yoongi is no joke to be played with. The guy is a menace. Some people say the only reason he’s not in jail is because he has affiliations within the police unit, and I wouldn’t doubt if it’s true. Our system is corrupt.” The older man sighs. ‘Oh great, here he goes with politics and corruption again…’ you thought. You had better get out on the floor before you’re caught in a whirlwind of it.

You leave him to discuss the topic with himself as you step out onto the floor, and start taking customer orders. “Hey, you’re that crazy girl from yesterday.” A man says as you approach his table. You frown, already knowing what he was referring to, so you avoid it at all cost. “What can I get you?” You redirect the conversation.

“Oh! Uhhh,” he picks up the menu from his table, skimming through it. “I’ll have the Jajangmyeon.” He answers quickly. You scribble down his order. “Anything to drink?” You ask. “Ginseng tea, thank you.” He places the menu back on the table. You nod, taking down his drink. “Okay, I’ll be right back with that tea.” You smile kindly before heading back to the kitchen. You rip the orders from the notepad, clipping them to the ticket holder.

“Hey, kid. We’ve got a delivery order for dumplings.” Mr. Kim informs you as you’re preparing tea for the customer. The older gentleman approaches you, the order already made and secured in a brown bag. You take the bag from him, looking at the order ticket attached to it.

As you read over the address on the ticket, your eyes practically bulge out of your skull. ‘2357 Gongdan Lane’. “Um… Mr. Kim, this location is in the slums of Daegu.” You look at him with concern. “I know.” The man simply nods, taking the tickets you set from the holder. “Yeah, well, I can’t go to Gongdan lane. It’s dangerous, especially for me as a woman.”

“Look kid, I’m sorry. If Jimin was here I’d have him go but he doesn’t work on Saturdays and you’re my only worker.”

“Exactly. I’m the only worker, you need me to be at the shop taking orders.” You knew that wasn’t going to go over as it was a slow day, and there were hardly any customers in the shop to begin with. “I can handle the customers and cook the ramen until you get back.”

You couldn’t believe this. Just as you had prided yourself in never stepping foot in Gongdan, here was this old dirty bastard making you go. On top of that, the restaurant didn’t even own a company car for deliveries so you had to ride a bike. You read over the ticket again, noticing that there wasn’t even a name on the order. “There’s no name on the order, this could be a trick that ends with me getting robbed for free food.”

“All this time wasted on talking about it could be used on getting the delivery done. Stop complaining and do what you’re paid to do. The faster you get it done, the faster you can come back.”

You wanted to stomp your foot like a child and continue to protest, but you couldn’t risk your job by not listening so you did the only sensible thing you could do. Your job. You grab a plastic bag, shoving the brown one inside of it before leaving through the back exit in the kitchen. You spot the red delivery bike lying on the ground, and pick it up, looping the plastic bag around the bike handle.

As you mount the bicycle, you pull out your phone to use your GPS. The ride was about 12 minutes away. If you ride fast you could undoubtedly make it at least an 8 minute ride. You kick back the breaks and set off on your journey. During the ride as you make it into the slum area, you could truly see the separation from Sangsu-dong to Gongdan lane. The sidewalks were cracked and unpaved, the buildings looked more rundown, and homeless people laid out in sleeping bags.

You got an uneasy feeling as you noticed a group of men smoking weed on a corner and intensely watching you go by. You probably stood out like a sore thumb, riding through Daegu’s slummiest on a red bike. You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your eyes forward as you paid them no mind. As you continue going, you notice the streets become more isolated. Your GPS directs you to turn, which you follow only to come upon a big warehouse that looked abandoned. ‘You’ve arrived’, your GPS says. You furrow your brows, confusion written over your face.

“Stupid thing must’ve sent me to the wrong location.” You grab the bag of dumplings from the bike handle, circling around the warehouse just in case you were mistaken. You find a door on the other end, cameras surrounding it like it was a government building. You inspect the door, seeing that there was a red button of some sort on it.

You scope the perimeter, making sure no one was trying to sneak attack you. The whole thing seemed completely sketchy. You take a deep breath before pressing down on the button, a loud buzz coming from it. You take a step back, waiting for someone to come open the door. You stood there for about two minutes, not wanting to wait around any longer. You knew this was a scam. You should’ve just gone home and pretended like you delivered the food. It would’ve saved you the trouble. As you turn to walk back to the bike, the door suddenly opens with a loud creaking sound.

You direct your attention back to the door, locking eyes with an individual that you dreaded to ever see again. “Oh my god… i-it’s you…” you stutter in shock, seeing Yoongi stand in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face. “Wonder Woman, we meet again.”

You’re silent, not really saying a word as you feel too stunned to speak. “You got something for me, sweetheart?” His eyes darted to the bag in your hand. You snap from your fearful trance, remembering why you were there in the first place. “Uh… yeah. Here’s your order.” You stretch out your arm to hand him the bag, not wanting to come any closer. The raven reaches forward, his hand brushing yours as he takes the bag from you. You quickly turn away, rushing back over to your bike.

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday.” He says, following behind you. “I already know who you are.” You mumble as you mount the red two wheeler. “Really? You didn’t seem to know who I was yesterday. If you did, you wouldn’t have shot your pretty mouth off like that,”

He grabs the handles of your bike, preventing you from leaving. “You look scared. Guess my reputation precedes me.” He says almost too proudly. “Not in a way that a decent human being should want it to, but I guess decency isn’t what you’re aiming for.” you say slickly, which causes the raven to smile. “There goes that smart mouth again,” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, giving you the same predatory stare from yesterday. “Normally I wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting slick at the mouth with me, but from you it’s kind of a turn on.”

You scowl, ignoring his sexual advance. “Can you let go of my bike? I need to get back to work.”

“How about you let me drive you?” he offers, but you quickly decline. You’d be an idiot to get in the car with a proclaimed murderer. “I’ll take my chances on the bike, thank you.” The raven lets go of the handles, taking a step back to allow you to be on your way. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

You kick back the break, not wanting to waste any more of your time in Gongdan speaking to this thug. You back away from him, turning the bike to ride down the path you came. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.” He calls out. You come to an abrupt stop, looking back at the raven. How did he know your name? “I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“You didn’t need to. I have my sources and connections, Princess. Whatever I need or want, I get.”

You cringe at the nickname ‘princess’. Jungkook doesn’t even call you that, with all the cheesy nicknames he does use. Him knowing your name suddenly made you question how coincidental this whole encounter was. You were starting to wonder how much about you he knew. As if he read your mind, he starts to read you like an autobiography. “You were born in Busan and raised right here in Daegu, you’re an ex nursing student, an only child, both your parents passed away in a tragic car accident, your best friend is Sang Mina, and your boyfriend is… Jeon Jungkook? Am I right?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as he spoke information that only people close to you would know. You felt sick, creeped out even, but you tried not to display that on your face. “So, I guess you know my work schedule then. You set this little encounter up knowing that I was the only worker today, didn’t you?” the raven simply shrugged like he couldn’t answer whether that was true or not, but you knew that it was. “I don’t know what your deal is, but just stay away from me, okay?”

Yoongi sneered, as he turned on his heels, heading back to the door from once he came. The raven makes sure he gets the last word though.

“I can’t make you any promises, sweetheart. Like I said, whatever I want, I get.”

Taglist

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cupidsdolll · 2 months

Note

I accidentally just unfollowed and refollowed u when I went to send in prompts HAHA but pls know it was an accident!!!!! anyway 14 and 18 :))))

Sweet Loving

hahah it's okay! here you go <3.

- - - -

14 - kisses

18 - heart candies

- - - -

“Come on, just one more!”

Harry and Y/N have been standing in the same spot of her living room for the past ten minutes. He’s supposed to go to the store to gather a small list of groceries she needs to make dinner tonight. He has the list in hand and one arm very gently trying to pull the girl’s arm away from around him. He never leaves her without a soft and quick goodbye kiss which is how they ended up here.

He gave her one small kiss and went to the door, but she tugged on his arm and asked for one more. He’s not one to deny such a simple request so he nodded and gave her another, which turned into five more and then five more.

“Love, I’ve been in the same spot forever. You want this dinner, don’t you?” He asks and she immediately frowns.

“I mean yes, but I just love you.” She says and he chuckles in response.

She’s always been such a softie for him, always wanted to make him the happiest and always looks at him with the softest and gooeyist eyes he’s ever seen. He thinks it's always been like this, can’t remember a time where she acted anything differently towards him. He doesn’t mind it at all, he finds it quite endearing if he’s being honest. He likes that she loves him so much and always wants to show him just how much. He loves the kisses as well, it’s one of his favorite things of hers. No matter what’s happening, she’ll never leave him to do anything without kissing him gently on the lips. They’re addicting in a way, his own personal drug and encouragement. He can’t ever get enough of them and honestly, neither can she. Which is why he thinks their relationship works so well.

Y/N huffs and stares at him, a mischievous glint passes through her eyes, but Harry doesn’t pay attention to it. He already figured she’d start trying to plan things when her pouting doesn’t work on him.

“If you don’t love me, just say that.” She says with as serious of a face she can manage, which would almost fool him if he didn’t already see this coming.

“You know I love you, pretty. I’ll love you always even when you’re being a bratty little thing like you are right now. I will give you all the attention you want after I go to the store and get everything you need to make food; we eat and get settled for the night. I know you must be hungry by now.” He says with a smirk on his face, he knows there’s no way she can refuse that offer. She’s never refused it before. He watches as she begins to think it over, except she’s not thinking it over. She’s stalling, trying to keep him here in her arms longer.

A beat passes before she sighs reluctantly, and he just rolls his eyes lovingly. He knows she’s given up, that he’s won and she’s about to pull away.

“How about I go bring you some of those cute little heart candies you like so much as well? S’been a while since we’ve had some.” He says and she immediately perks up, a bright smile seemingly lighting the room before she nods excitedly.

"You would do that? Wait, I mean, are you sure? Isn’t that candy shop across town?” She asks and he just shrugs.

“As long as it makes my girl happy, I don’t mind. You should know this.” He says as he pulls apart from her, placing a kiss on her forehead before heading to the door once again.

“I’ll be back in like fifteen minutes tops. I love you.”

“I love you too. Hurry up, I’m counting the seconds.” He laughs at her dramatics before he closes the door behind him, determined to make it back before she gets done counting those fifteen excruciating minutes.

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sweatervest-obsessed · 7 months

Text

Quand Tu Voudras

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: ~7.2k

TW: kissing, angst, blood, burns, cuts, bruises, arguments, crying, depression, mention of EDs, panicking, explosions, drinking, self-image issues, mentions of addiction, mentions of drug use, mentions of Maeve

A/N: Third and Final Part babyyyyyy let's GO. I'm actually excited to watch each part get its own vibes, but also be a cohesive story. I really hope you all enjoy it! Thank y'all for doing me on this crazy journey!

Dedicated to New Lovers , You're Keeping Me Down

“If you want a happy ending, that depends, of course, on where you stop your story.” ~Orson Welles

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked.

Shopping for a wedding dress was one of the most terrifying experiences you had ever lived through, and you had been shot multiple times.

But being surrounded by your closest friends and family members as you tried on dress after dress kept you going.

You finally found the perfect one in a small shop outside of the DC area, hidden in a little suburb where life wasn’t as rushed as it felt.

You tried on only three dresses at this little boutique. The second was almost perfect, and you were about to “say yes to the dress,” but someone was reorganizing the front rack, and that’s when the one you were currently wearing appeared, sent by the higher powers.

It fits you perfectly.

You started to cry when you saw yourself in the mirror, which caused Garcia to start crying, which caused Emily and JJ to cry, and the rest of your family quickly followed.

So it was only natural that staring at yourself in the mirror right now made you tear up again.

“Oh, Babe, no.” Emily was quick to fan your eyes as you tilted your head back, letting the tears melt back into your eyes.

“I can’t help it.” You grumbled, eyes wide as you tried calming your breathing slowly. “It’s just so pretty…”

“I know, I know. My money is on Derek crying first.”

“Oh, please. We all know Rossi won’t stop crying the second he takes his seat.”

You had decided that the only people you wanted at the ceremony were close friends and family. That meant the team, their little ones, and each of your parents. Small. Peaceful. Intimate.

Derek was over the moon when you asked him to officiate your wedding, wanting him to be there for you in every way since that’s always been his role.

You had taken him out for coffee under the very real guise that wedding planning made you want to rip your head off and chuck it out to sea.

“Okay, baby girl, talk to me.”

The ice was melting in the cup from the warmth of your hands, making your hands wet with the condensation, hiding the sweat from your nerves.

“Do you know how much flowers cost?”

Derek chuckled and shook his head. “No. I don’t think I do.”

“The government doesn’t pay me enough for the amount of flowers I want at my reception.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have picked the Peabody Library as your reception location.”

“In my defense.” You furrowed your brows. “You were with us when we toured it. It’s perfect, Derek. Don’t tell me it’s not.”

“No, it’s perfect; I just don’t understand why you need that many flowers.”

“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t even know me, Derek Morgan.”

“He’s going to cry first.” Emily smiled, lightly dabbing under your eyes with some of your powder foundation to show that you weren’t almost crying.

“I will buy you a whole bottle of Möet that Rossi will cry first.”

As JJ entered the room, you and Emily shook hands, giggling like school girls. “Almost ready?”

You nodded, glancing over at yourself in the mirror.

Honestly, you had never thought this day would come. Your wedding day. After everything you had been through, all of the heartbreak, all of the confusion, all of the traveling and running away. Everything you could possibly think of going wrong just went wrong. Suddenly, the flowers weren’t delivered, and then no one showed up to the reception, and then you were left at the altar, abandoned and unloveable again. You couldn’t breathe; your chest was seizing. It was too tight. There wasn’t enough fresh air in the room. Your heartbeat was too loud, and you couldn’t look away from yourself in the mirror. This wasn’t real; Everything bad happening was in your head.

Or maybe it was an awful dream, and you need to wake up before it gets too far and your heart gets shattered again.

JJ whispered your name, reaching out for you, sending a shock of electricity through your arm when she touched it.

You jumped.

“I want to talk to him.” You blurted out, looking over at JJ. “I–I need to talk to him.”

“You said yes.”

You nodded, staring down at your wine glass, pondering if it was the right decision. Emily was wondering the same thing.

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to go back to—”

“It is.” You cut her off, not harshly, just firmly. “I haven’t been the same since I left the BAU, and I left for perfectly valid reasons, Em, I know. But….”

“But?”

“But I miss it. Don’t you? It flexes my muscles in ways I couldn’t replicate, and I was so good at it. I felt smart and useful and not lost, wandering the islands of Greece.”

If you didn’t know her so well, Emily’s fake gasp could have easily been mistaken for a real one. “We had a fantastic time, and you know it.”

“Yes, but I also know that I was feeling so unfulfilled intellectually that I went off and got a Ph.D. Like, come on, I never wanted a PhD before I left; I just didn’t know how to challenge myself.”

“That is fair. I just think you need to consider the fact that you’d be working with you know who.”

“You can say his name, Emily. He’s not some dark lord; he’s just an idiot with an IQ of 187.”

“Yeah, Yeah, look. I have to go, but we are not done with this conversation, okay? I’ll need a full PowerPoint presentation with all the pros and the cons.”

“Yes, ma’am, I can do that. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

You heard the click of her line going dead before there was a knock on your door. You quickly pressed play on your movie, letting one of your favorite rom-coms (When Harry Met Sally) play in the background as you scrounged around for where you had left your wallet.

Clad in an oversized shirt you’ve had forever, plaid pajama shorts that were once part of a Christmas set, and your comfiest fuzzy socks, you slid over to the door once you had found your wallet.

You opened the door. “How much…”

His eyes met yours, and you took a small step back.

“You are not the pizza guy.”

“No. I’m not.”

His answer caused you to laugh a little bit, filling his chest with a warmth he hadn’t felt in over two years.

“Can I–” He gestured into your house, and you moved to the side, allowing him to enter.

“I, um….” You bit your lip and eyed him up and down. “As long as you’re okay with When Harry Met Sally playing in the background.”

“Time for the annual rewatch.” He smiled at you nervously, but a very small part of yourself enjoyed the fact that he remembered.

You headed back towards the couch, casually trying to clean up as you went to give the impression that you were cleaner than you were.

“Shoes off before you get to the couch.” You called over your shoulder.

The door closed behind Spencer with a soft click.

“Honey, you said you don’t want a first look.”

“We don’t have to look at each other—I don’t know, like a corner or something. I just..I-I-I.”

JJ watched as your panic started to bubble over, and she took your hands in hers. “Want to call him first?”

You nodded. “Y-Yeah, let’s try that.”

JJ handed you your phone off the vanity, watching as you dialed the number, panicking even more when it wouldn’t connect—there was no service.

Spencer had asked you to play chess with him that night, and you obliged. Something about falling into an old routine felt good; it felt right. A movie you chose in the background while playing chess against Spencer. Some things were always meant to be. The night was filled with laughs, small talk, and contentment–life feeling like it should.

A familiarity shrouded you both, mocking the comfort you once used to feel.

When you won, he was a bit baffled. You had only beaten him a few times, and he was focusing on all of the outcomes. How could he not notice—

“You can’t win every game, Spence.”

His heart lodged in his throat at the nickname, and he looked up at you, that goofy half smile on his lips.

Lovestruck. He looked lovestruck.

And then you exhaled. “We can’t avoid it forever. I know that’s why you came here in the first place.”

He blinked away the love, replacing it with guilt, hurt, fragments of something you both had grieved in your own time.

“Y-yeah. Let’s um, let’s talk about…”

You redialled the number only to be met with the same beeping as before, eyes wide as you looked at JJ. “There’s no service. JJ, I can’t–he won’t…”

Emily handed you her phone–it was ringing, thank god.

“Hey Emily, is everything okay?”

“It’s me.” You said simply, but the wobble in your voice said everything he needed to hear.

“oh–Honey, talk to me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I-I…” You swallowed your tears and looked over at your two friends—you gestured slightly, silently asking them to leave the room so you could talk to your future husband alone. They obliged, letting the door close. It was nice of them to pretend like they weren’t running over to see if they could eavesdrop from his room, but they were just met with Derek in the hall, who had also been booted out.

“Is she okay?”

Emily shook her head. “No idea. She was fine one moment, and she was about to burst the next. Like a complete shift of personality.”

Derek sighed. “I’ve never seen him switch so quickly either. He was all nervous one minute, but the second he heard her voice….he almost sounded like Hotch doing damage control.”

JJ laughed slightly at that, glancing back at the door hiding you behind it.

“Do you think she’ll go through with it?” Derek whispered slowly, making sure no one was around to hear him.

Emily fidgeted with the bracelet on her wrist. “She’s terrified he’s not going to.”

“Look, Spence, I get it. Shit happens. But you don’t know what it was like, coming home one day and you were laughing with someone else. You hadn’t laughed for months, almost a year, before then.”

“I know. I’m so–”

“Say sorry one more fucking time. Sorry isn’t explaining…or talking to me. I know you have trouble expressing whatever bullshit is going on in your head, but you have to try. It’s me, for fucks sake, Spence, And while I am willing to wait, I can only be so patient for so long with no actual explanation—”

“I was terrified of you.”

“What…”

Spencer stood up, pacing back and forth in front of your coffee table, trying to find the right words. “You were so far gone when Em died, and you had sunk into this pit of despair, and I was scared of watching you push down this path, destructive and–and; I didn’t know who you were, and I was so scared to watch you go down this path so I turned away instead.”

“Spencer, you ran to JJ. You just left me here, alone. And then, when she comes back, you fucking threaten the fact that you were having Dilaudid cravings?”

“I think he’s even more mortified that she will back out on him. He knows everything she’s gone through. I mean–I love her, but she’s got major commitment issues.”

JJ slapped his arm and glared at him. “And for good reason, Derek.”

Derek grumbled an ‘ow,’ rubbing at his arm. “I’m not saying it wasn’t justified–I completely side with her on it--I’m just pointing out what we already know.”

Spencer closed his eyes. “I don’t love you anymore.”

Your heart leaped into your throat, or maybe it was vomit, you weren’t sure, but all you could do was stare at him from across the kitchen countertop.

“Since this was my place first, uh…I can give you a couple of weeks to find a place, and I’ll even sleep on the couch…”

You hadn’t even spoken yet, shaking your head. “Stop. Spencer. What.”

Your head was pounding, hands gripping onto the counter to try and steady yourself.”

“Sorry.” He whispered. He couldn’t even look at you. He was just staring at his hands, almost unsure about what he was saying.

“Sorry?” You laughed, tears starting to track down your cheeks. “Spencer, this has to be a sick fucking joke..”

He shook his head.

Behind the door, You were just pacing back and forth, listening to his voice, trying to erase this memory from your mind and find a new one to replace it, barely listening to the man on the other end of the line.

“Hey, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. If you want to call the whole thing off, everyone will understand. If it’s not right—.”

“No.” You responded immediately. “I–I, I want to do this, I want to marry you…just…”

“You just needed some reassurance. I know.”

You nodded, not realizing he couldn’t hear you nod, but somehow, it felt like he did.

“I love you.”

You smiled, exhaling shakily. “Good.”

His laugh bubbled through his lips, causing you to take another breath.

“I’ll see you out there?”

“Can you just stay on the phone for another minute or so? I just need, like—”

You could hear him nod over the phone. “Anything you want.”

Somehow, you were back in that fucking elevator. Again.

But this time, it felt like a homecoming rather than a curse you were trying to break.

When the doors opened, you saw your family leaving little presents on your desk—flowers, balloons, chocolate, even cupcakes from your favorite bakery. They were all so busy setting it up that they didn’t notice as you walked up behind them, peering over their shoulders.

“Looks good, guys.”

“You think—” Derek did a double take and clutched his chest. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

You laughed and smiled at him, dropping your bag onto your chair. “It looks wonderful. You guys didn’t have to do anything for me–”

“Actually, we did. How could we not? I mean! She’s home! She’s back solving crimes in sexy-looking outfits!” Garcia wrapped her arm around your shoulders, resting her head on yours.

“I love it, guys, thank you.”

JJ briskly walked past you all, giving you a brief smile, almost running up the stairs and into Hotch’s office.

“Well, looks like you’re getting thrown right back into it.” Derek sighed.

Hotch came out of his office and smiled at you before nodding at the others. “Wheels up in forty, everyone. I’ll brief you all on the plane.”

“Good.”

“Just breathe y/n. Okay? I’ll be the one at the end of the altar with the incredibly well-tailored suit and those flowers you like so much pinned to my chest.”

“You’re gonna cry.” You whispered jokingly, taking in a deeper breath than before. “I look so good in this dress. I actually was crying about it before I made Emily call you.”

“It’s like you’re trying to kill me.”

Derek knocked on your door, leaning his ear up against it, trying to hear what you were saying. He called out your name, and after about a minute, you told him it was unlocked.

“Can I come in?”

“If you want Derek, it is entirely up to you.”

He opened the door, tears welling up the second he saw you.

Hearing him enter, you faced him, smiling softly at him.

All Derek could do was take you in for a second, unable to really think of what he was about to tell you. This felt a bit ridiculous since he was there when you picked out the dress, but watching you now, ready to actually wear it for its intended purpose, was a whole different ball game.

“You look…..”

“Right.” You whispered, walking over and squeezing his hand. “I’m ready. Let’s do this thing before shit goes south.”

______________________________________________________________

“Y/n, You are the love of my life, and I could give you an eternal list of every single moment of my life where I felt nothing but complete and utter adoration for you. But then last week, you picked the movie you thought we should watch: a nineties rom-com, obviously, with big romantic gestures and a heroine who doesn’t need to be tamed. And those two inspired me to give you instead a list of the ten things I hate about you.”

Spencer had gotten a good look at you for the first time in a long time. He had already felt guilty about the fact that he had Maeve and that you had broken up. But what he had failed to realize was the same thing Derek had–You were someone entirely different, a ghost of yourself. The guilt was gnawing through his stomach when he told Hotch what was going on, and he had begged Hotch to let you sit out, trying to save you from this, but clearly, Spencer couldn’t do anything right for you anymore. He hadn’t been able to in a very long time. Hotch had cleared his throat while Spencer shook his head. “I-I tried Hotch, I really didn’t want…”

He just nodded at Spencer. “I know, Reid, but you must have known there was no way this conversation would go any better than that.”

Reid just nodded and stood up, going out into the bullpen, not missing the way all of their eyes snapped to him as Penelope dumped her broken mug into the trash.

Before anyone could say anything, Hotch walked out of his office and looked at everyone. “As you all could have guessed, Agent Y/L/N will not be joining us on this case. I expect everyone in the conference room in ten.” with that, Hotch walked past Reid and down the stairs toward where he had assumed you had run off to.

Reid just returned to his desk, sitting and staring at your now empty desk. Hotch had fulfilled your request, letting you move across the bullpen so you didn’t have to sit next to him anymore.

Some part of the thought that you couldn’t even look at him anymore caused his gut to lurch, causing his hearing to burst for a moment. Maybe this was too fucked up. Perhaps he had been wrong. He thought he was doing the right thing by letting you go, not weighing you down with all his own bullshit, but he realized he had failed to pay attention.

Spencer thought long and hard, trying to piece together everything he had thought about in the past couple of months when it came to you, and that’s when he realized it was every day. He thought about you every day.

But he had ignored you. He had failed to notice as you crumbled to nothing in front of him.

“Number ten is that I hate the way you fold laundry. It’s incredible how you manage to fold every single item in a completely different manner. It baffles me. One of the great mysteries in this world that we might never have the answer to.”

“So you two spoke?”

You held up your finger as you finished the prosecco in your glass. Once you finished, casually, you picked up the bottle and poured yourself a second glass, only beginning to speak when the glass had been filled to your liking.

“He came over to my apartment, Derek. I had already opened the door, and what was I going to say—”

“How about no?”

“It’s rude to interrupt Derek Morgan.” Penelope elbowed him and took a sip from her own glass. “But he’s right, Y/n. You could have said no and slammed the door in his face.”

“But that’s not who I am. You know I’m a sucker for closure. You know I wanted to talk to him anyway. I just wasn’t expecting the discussion that ended up happening….”

Derek raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “Do tell Princess.”

You shrugged and took another sip. “We talked about Maeve.”

The looks you received were exactly what you had expected, only because it was how you felt about the conversation.

“Number nine. I hate how you pick out what we will watch each week. You just skim through every single title on every platform until the one with the right ‘energy’ calls out to you. And they’re never the same. You manage to match a film to the night perfectly, and I hate how well you can pinpoint that about me.

“Eight. I hate the way you drive. You manage to be the safest and most dangerous person on the road. There’s nothing more to that one. You terrify me.”

“I cannot believe you, Spencer Reid. You have the audacity to come to my house, lose at chess, and then accuse me of being the reason our relationship ended!?”

“That’s not what I said.” His voice was desperate. “I’m not blaming anyone but myself, okay? I fucked up. I know I fucked up. I just—You were so–”

“I was so what, Spencer. What about me was just soooo fucking terrifying to you that you decided you didn’t want to propose to me anymore.”

“That’s not fair.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucked in the head if you think the part that isn’t fair is me calling you out on that.”

Spencer paced around, running his hands through his hair. He was going to wear a path in your carpet the way he was pacing back and forth and back and forth and back and forth.

“Seven. I hate how captivating you are. Whenever you tell a story, there’s no use in getting any work done because all anyone can do is wait for the story to be finished. If there’s no ending–I’ve watched Morgan sulk at his desk until you returned from a meeting because you were running late and didn’t wrap up the end of the story for him. Something about the way you speak, the way you capture people’s attention, is one of the most dangerous weapons I’ve ever seen on the planet.

“I hate—oh, sorry–Number six.” He smiled at you and squeezed your head. You were shaking slightly as you rapidly blinked away tears, trying to inhale and exhale through your nose. It wasn’t working. Every word this man said made you one second closer to jumping onto him and kissing him senseless. “I hate how smart you are. It’s ridiculous. You can argue so beautifully and eloquently that it makes anyone arguing against you look like a fucking idiot. You speak four fucking languages, making you invincible and even more aggravating since you’ve decided to start learning a fifth one. You have started to beat me every other game in chess, which is actually humiliating for me, and I can’t figure out how you’re doing it. You read everything under the sun and still manage to have a life, friends, and family. I don’t know anyone in the world who could compare to your intellect.”

“Five. I hate how you steal my chocolate-covered pretzels. I bought you a whole fucking cabinet’s worth, and somehow, mine still got eaten.”

You watched him give you a bit of a stink eye for that one, causing you to kiss his hand lightly. “My apologies.”

“You don’t mean it, and you know it.” He grumbled, flipping his page so that he could keep reading.

“I hate how beautiful you are. It’s distracting. I can’t work near you anymore because all I want to do is daydream about you. I want to watch you smile for the rest of my life if I can help it.”

“Three. I hate how much you care. It terrifies me how much you care about other people. I have seen you at your best and your worst moments.” You squeezed his hand in reassurance. “I have seen the worst outcomes of cases we could ever imagine, or the best, and yet you put the same amount of effort and care into all of them. It’s infuriating because you put your life on the line constantly to be able to give people a chance, whether that be to save them from others or to save them from themselves. You are the most considerate person in the world, even to those who might not deserve it.”

This was not a good case.

It was never a ‘good case,’ but this one just sucked the absolute life out of you. You had been back for only a month, and it was going too well. You were on top of your game. You were better than ever—but you knew the other shoe would drop.

And it did.

You were never a big fan of getting shot at, but you would prefer that rather than have to escape a burning building. It was one of your biggest fears, and here it was, being realized.

You had managed to crawl down to the first floor before everything started to go black. He had sealed the windows. He had sprinkled broken glass along the stairs, causing you to rip open your legs and hands as you slid down the stairs. The more significant shards of glass shredding the back of your pants. It was fucking painful. But you had managed to make it to the kitchen.

That’s when you saw the firefighters bursting through doors, trying to contain the fire surrounding you. You could feel the burn on your skin as they pulled you out of the building, blood dripping down your legs and hands.

You must have been one fucked up sight for Hotch to drop everything he was doing and run over to you. But you wished he didn’t because the building behind you exploded. The flames must have hit the gas line, and the house came crashing down.

You were thrown back from the force, causing you to land on your back. Nothing was broken, nothing was sprained, but adding road rash and hearing loss to your ever-growing list of injuries was not fun.

Spencer and Hotch, who were shoved to the ground by the blast, scrambled over to you, where you were just lying on the ground, facing the sky, trying to breathe.

Maybe they were yelling your name or just trying to speak to you, but your head buzzed with the remnants of the explosion.

You watched as the sky above you filled with smoke and flickered with red hues. At some point, you saw Spencer come into your line of view. He was definitely mouthing your name.

Just then, like a wave crashing over you again, your hearing came back. Overwhelming could barely describe the feeling of shock running through your body. Your eyes widened as tears sprung to your eyes, your lungs gasping for air, and your mind flooded with adrenaline, with panic.

“Y/N. Hey. Listen to me. Hey.” Hotch had been trying to get you to sit up. He was going through his own internal panic attack—this scene was a little too close to NYC, to Kate.

Ambulance sirens blared, and you could hear a beam crash down and spur on the fire—” It hurts. So. Bad.” You finally managed to whisper, still gasping for air.

Reid wasn’t sure you were even registering that you were sobbing and that tears were racing down your cheeks.

“Can you sit up?”

“My hands.” You mumbled. “There-there was glass…so much…”

You flinched as Hotch yelled for a gurney.

“I need you to try and sit up, okay?” Spencer was next to you. He was on his hands and knees, slowly trying to gain your attention. There is a gentle touch on the arm here and a brush of your hair out of your eyes. He was just trying to give you peace, a breath amid everything going on.

“Spence.” You whined, flexing your hand, wincing when a tiny shard of glass shifted in your palm, causing even more pain.

“I know.” He said to you, gently taking your hand and wincing as he saw the microscopic shards scattered across your palm. “I need you to sit up for me.”

“Please don’t make me get up, Spence.” You whispered.

Hotch had moved away from the both of you, trying to clear a path so two EMTs could reach you.

“Once you sit up, I promise you won’t have to do anything else.”

You closed your eyes and let out a cry. It felt so relieving to just let whatever tension you had left in your body. But the thought of not doing anything sounded even better, so you slowly made your way to a sitting position, leaning against Spencer’s chest as he kissed your head and carefully ran his hand up and down your arm.

Spencer’s entire body relaxed into yours. He had never been more grateful that you could make it out of that building before…he didn’t want to think about what else would have happened. The two of you had just started talking again. You were hanging out. He would have never forgiven himself if he left things the way they were.

It felt wrong for him to be grateful at how much you got hurt because all of your limbs were still intact, and you were still conscious, still breathing. But he was thankful as he held you on the pavement, in the middle of the road, while everyone ran around you both.

You, on the other hand, were not happy to be sitting up. The adrenaline started to wear off, and your body was no longer buzzing. “Spence.” You whispered to him, trying to get his attention. You were nauseous, and the world was spinning. Everything was phasing in, and out of clarity, you could actually feel the earth rotating.

“Spence.” This time, it was said with more urgency. And it caught his attention. “I need to lie back down.”

“You can’t—”

“I’m gonna vomit.”

“Shit shit shit, okay, nausea is usually a sign of a concussion, a really bad one, most likely in the red zone—”

“Spencer, please.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and slumping against him, trying your best to hold down whatever you felt slowly creeping up your throat.

“I can’t let you lay back down.” He mumbled, turning you in his arms, prepping for whatever would come out.

Luckily for both of you, the two EMTs and Hotch had made it back over, bucket in hand, because Hotch had told them you most likely had a concussion. And god bless that stupid bucket because it managed to save some of your dignity by not throwing up all over the street. The EMTs had checked you out, flashing that stupid fucking light in your eyes, looking at your hands and doing their best to pull out some of the larger chunks of glass, and then helping to get you onto a gurney, and eventually into an ambulance to be shipped off to the nearest hospital.

Spencer was the only person you would allow to come with you in the ambulance.

“Two. I hate how well you know me and can read me like an open book. I have never met someone who knew me in the same way you could. You know things about me before I could even fathom the possibilities. You have been there for me in some of the darkest times of my life, and I would not have survived if it wasn’t for you. You picked me off the ground countless times, more than I could ever repay you for.”

“And last but not least. I hate how I can’t live without you. I hate that if you’re not in the same room as me, I can’t breathe. I hate how you manage to make my days filled with comfort, support, and love when sometimes I don’t deserve it. I hate when you go away to conferences, and I have to wake up to an empty bed, and the only thing that motivates me is the fact that I know you’ll text me as soon as you’re awake. I hate how you are the last person I want to see at night before I go to sleep. And I hate that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

You were fully crying, tears tracking down your cheeks, as you squeezed his hand tightly. You laughed slightly, trying to wipe away one of the stray tears, but he beat you to it, using his thumb to wipe away your tears gently.

“Did you just quote When Harry Met Sally at me?”

He smiled cheekily, handing the paper back to Derek, who put it in his pocket. “What else would I be able to quote at you? It was playing that night…”

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile across your face. You heard him whisper, “I love you,” but it still made your heart ache.

“Okay, Doctor Reid. Work your magic.”

“You make it sound like I’m performing a spell or something. I’m literally just fixing your computer.”

You snorted and shrugged. “Isn’t it you who always said that physics and magic are basically the same thing.”

“Okay, yes, but—”

“And computer science is a science, right?”

Spencer just rolled his eyes, realizing he would not win this argument, and began to futz with your desktop.

It had crashed on you while you were in the middle of a report. At home. In your pajamas.

This was a practice that was familiar to Spencer. Whenever you were working on something that was not classified or very sensitive information, you had gotten special clearance from Hotch to bring it home. So Spencer has seen you write up preliminary profiles for cases around the country in nothing but your pajamas many times.

Except he hasn’t seen you in just pajama shorts and a tank top since, well.

He was supposed to be focusing on the desktop, and that is what he is going to do.

“I really appreciate you coming over at like 10 pm, Spence. I really do. I’m sure you were busy, so I really appreciate it.”

He shook his head and looked over his shoulder at you. “It was no trouble, really. Besides.” He turned back to the screen with a cheeky grin across his face. “I know how you get when something breaks.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you leaned against the kitchen counter. “Spencer. Are you…flirting with me…”

His face turned slightly red as he quickly faced the computer screen again. “And so what if I am,” he mumbled, focusing on the task at hand. He wasn’t sure how you managed to freeze your computer this badly, but he was determined to work it out.

You shrugged and checked your phone, looking at the text from Emily that you had chosen to ignore. Maybe she told you not to ask Spencer over. Maybe she had warned against moving too quickly with anything.

But you were a grown adult, you could make your own choices. You could—

“It’s, uh, it’s all fixed for you.” Spencer had stood up and was nervously fiddling with his hands. He hasn’t been like this towards you since you had both started dating over seven years ago.

You bit your lip and casually turned your phone on DnD.

“Thanks, Spence. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, doing his best to stop eying you up and down.

The two of you stood there, unsure of how to continue on with one another.

The tension was thick, almost like a humidity in the air that covered your skin and ruined your hair, just by stepping into it.

Spencer eventually broke eye contact and wiped his hands on his pants. “Well, I’m going to uh…Have a good night.” He quickly grabbed his bag from the counter and shut the door behind him.

Your hands dragged down your face as you sighed and shook your head. Maybe it was for the best that you two just stayed friends. Maybe it was for the best that you two never were in a relationship again. You remembered what happened last time. Maybe you should just finish the report and go to bed. Or maybe you should run after him. It wouldn’t be that embarrassing, considering he was staring back at you, right?

Who said you didn’t deserve to make a bad decision every now and again.

You grabbed your keys and slid on your slippers, not even bothering to grab a coat. You opened the door and came face to face with an out-of-breath Spencer just about to knock on your door. You took one look at each other.

And that’s when he reached down and brought your lips to his.

Emily reached over and gently handed you your vows.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You whispered, causing everyone around you to laugh softly at you, desperately trying to stop crying.

“I said I was going to try not to cry during his, and that obviously was not the case.” You slowly exhaled your lips, taking his hand and smiling up at him.

“Hey.” You whispered, causing him to whisper it back to you. “So–um. I wrote my vows a long time ago. Like, a while back. And I was looking for them and almost couldn’t find them. But I remembered that I had written them in that really small brown, leather journal thing that you got me for one of my birthdays that I kept losing because I always put it down and never remembered where.”

The small, collected group laughed together, watching you turn the page in that small brown leather journal.

“I didn’t know where I wanted to start when writing my vows. I knew how I wanted it to end, though. I’ve always known how I wanted my life to end and everything to go. So that’s what I did. I started at my endgame and worked my way backward. But shit happens, and life never goes according to plan. Never.”

He squeezed your hand.

Those weeks after were fucking brutal for you.

Relaxing was something you were never fantastic at, so having to take two weeks off to recover from your concussion, burns, cuts, and bruises was excruciating.

Maybe it would have been worse if a certain someone wasn’t basically living in your apartment with you, doing anything and everything to be there for you.

You woke up to freshly brewed coffee, sometimes breakfast if he wasn’t away on a case. Sometimes, he’d be home in time to make you both dinner. It felt oddly domestic for you, reminding you of before Maeve, before everything that had gone down over the phone.

Once the two weeks were over, he might have visited to check up on you. There would be nights where he would stay over just in case your head or back started to hurt again. It took more convincing for Spencer to let you go back to work than it did for your actual neurologist.

“Need I remind you I’m a doctor too, Spencer. I’m going back to work on Monday, meaning two over one, majority rules.”

Spencer scoffed and crossed his arms. “The lights will cause headaches, and staring at screens and files will only add to that. It’s a bad idea, y/n. Especially if we have to go somewhere, traveling across the country in a plane. You might as well knock yourself out because the air pressure would kill your head and ear drums.”

“Always the one for dramatics, aren’t we.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “I’m not being dramatic. I just care about your well-being, apparently more than you do—”

“Spence.”

“What.”

You kissed him softly. Just to shut him up. There were no ulterior motives. None.

He hummed, hands sliding around your waist, keeping you close to him as you broke the kiss.

That was another development you were keeping under wraps. The two of you might have decided to give it another shot. It had been over a month since you rejoined the BAU, and even before you got severely injured, Spencer had been doing everything he could to apologize. Whether that be his apologies or through his actions, he was stepping up.

But both of you had yet to outright tell the others. Emily knew something was going on, especially when you showed up to work in the same outfit two days in a row, but she had assumed you had seen someone else, not your ex.

You didn’t mind, though, when he took such good care of you when he bought you fresh flowers every week, when he kissed you past the point of breathing when he would—

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer whispered, interrupting whatever spiral you had started.

“What book I should read next.”

“Liar.” He squeezed your sides, laughing softly and kissing you again.

“There’s not much I can say about how life doesn’t go as planned since everyone here with us understands and knows how quickly life changes. But I realized that I need to have you by my side regardless of how it changes. I don’t want to be back in a place where I’m not with you because it just didn’t make any sense.”

“My vows are short because I would never make it through them if they were any longer.”

This caused another ripple of laughter throughout your friends, giving your fiancé a moment to wipe away another stray tear on your cheek.

“All of this to say.” You cleared your throat, but it didn’t stop the tears from clouding your vision. “Shit. Give me a second.”

Emily gave you a tissue, which you used to wipe under your eyes. You shook your hands slightly, trying to calm yourself down and shake out the rest of the emotions so that you could at least finish saying your vows.

“Having begun to love you, I love you forever—in all changes, in all disgraces, because you are yourself.”

Spencer beamed joyfully, realizing you followed his same path, quoting something you knew the other loved.

And suddenly, the stars aligned. A soft breeze picked up, and the world was quiet.

Everything was alright. Everything was okay.

And for that beautiful, brief moment, you had everything you could have ever asked for, and there was nothing you would have changed, nothing in the whole world that was worth the love and happiness you felt in this moment, beaming at Spencer as you both said

I do.

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” - Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @gubzgirl @onlyspence @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @mynameisnotokay @kalulakunundrum @academiareid @lilsunshine1092 @brilliantreid @shqwqrma @cluelessteam @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @r-3dlips @lilrios-world @hereforfun22-blog @mega-kittyglitter-1

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader angst #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds x reader

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diorsluv · 4 months

Text

feather , part 13

“ i finally cut you off ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by _quinnhughes, edwards.73, jackhughes, and 96,892 others

yourusername rowdy and huggy bear were surprisingly comfortable but they kept interrupting my criminal minds marathon 😔

tagged: mackie.samo, dylanduke25, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, edwards.73, markestapa

view all comments

username81 i can’t believe mackie let her give him a makeover

→ yourusername i can’t believe it either

jackhughes i don’t see what you see in spencer reid but ok

→ yourusername you’re clinically insane. go get some help.

→ _quinnhughes i don’t see it either

→ lhughes_06 me neither

→ yourusername i’m calling your mom and telling her that you’ve all gone crazy.

markestapa that snow was FREEZING but attacking you with that pillow really made it all worth it

→ yourusername this is harassment and i feel targeted ☹️☹️

→ markestapa really? good 😊

username53 THE SHOPPING CARTS IN A PARKING GARAGE?? the math ain’t mathing

mackie.samo honestly that makeover felt kinda replenishing

→ yourusername funny that ur using that word when u threw my REPLENISHING face mask in the trash after 5 minutes

jamie.drysdale how did she manage to convince you all to make those mini heart shaped pizzas

→ lhughes_06 uhh see the thing is..

→ edwards.73 about that 😥

→ markestapa wellllll

→ _quinnhughes they’re idiots

→ jackhughes yeah um that’s the thing!

→ mackie.samo so…………

→ dylanduke25 she uh… she didn’t

→ rutgermcgroarty oh my god you all turned soft for her

→ yourusername oh shut up they were always like that they just stopped pretending 🙄

lhughes_06 you kept complaining when jack and quinn piled on top of you

→ yourusername BC THEY KEPT MOVING and 350 lbs of weight on your back isn’t ideal

→ edwards.73 just like how you kept complaining when benedict came into the picture? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 what no idk what ur talking abt shut up

→ yourusername ?????

username75 did ethan just expose luke 😭😭

→ username64 it’s not like we didn’t know anyway

bookerburke_ aw we should make mini pizzas when you get back ☺️☺️

→ yourusername ofc mwah 🥰

yourusername

liked by dylanduke25, _alexturcotte, luca.fantilli, and 79,992 others

yourusername gingerbread house contest went.. um.. let’s just say there was an obvious but not crowned (😒) winning team! and then we baked desserts bc these competitive dummies couldn’t stand to lose against me n dyl 🤗🤗

view all comments

mackie.samo u literally didnt win

→ yourusername u literally didnt finish ur house

dylanduke25 our team clearly won

→ yourusername ofc ofc

markestapa my team did a better job

→ yourusername ethan kept licking the frosting and mackie spilled the candy all over the counter…

→ edwards.73 and we still did a better job 🥱

username56 the gingerbread houses are so chaotic lmaooooo

username98 THE SANTA COOKIES AWWWW

username49 i can smell the diabetes coming from this post

jackhughes i like to think our house didn’t turn out that bad

→ lhughes_06 fr we did good

→ yourusername only because quinn was yelling at you the whole time

→ _quinnhughes i wasn’t yelling i was just loudly guiding them

colecaufield save some cookies for me

→ yourusername by the time you get them they’ll have gone bad 😭😭

username48 they’re all so competitive it’s so funny

rutgermcgroarty “how many heart shaped desserts can you make in one week” challenge go!

→ yourusername shut up there’s nothing wrong with liking heart shaped desserts ☹️

→ rutgermcgroarty it’s become an unhealthy addiction

_alexturcotte i personally believe the last gingerbread house is the best one

→ mackie.samo EXACTLYYY

→ edwards.73 OBVIOUSLY

→ markestapa YES THANK YOU

→ yourusername you all need help

username71 HOW ARE YOUR SNOWMEN DESIGNS SO NEAT

next chapter notes ) i’m not kidding when i tell you it took me forever to make this BUT I HOPE EVERYONE STILL LIKES IT

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot

#luke hughes #luke hughes fic #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes #jack hughes #cole caufield #alex turcotte #trevorzegras #jamie drysdale #ethan edwards #dylan duke #mark estapa #mackie samoskevich #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #rutger mcgroarty

259 notes · View notes

writingstoraes · 9 months

Note

i am so addicted to your instagram au! they are *chef kiss* 😘

can i request for a girl dad charles? maybe doing domestic things with his baby girl, like having tea parties & dressing up. thank you in advance if you’re doing it! ❤️

anything and everything 🩰

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: thank u so much, lovely anon <3 and thank u also for requesting and i hope u like this! lmk what u guys think hehe

about: what the request said; just peak girl dad charles.

ynleclerc

liked by pascale_leclerc, lorenzotl, landonorris, and 234,193 others

ynleclerc i would just like everyone to see this vintage ferrari jacket for kids that charles ferociously fought for on the internet. he picked it up today and said he cannot wait to make his little princess wear it 🫡

carlossainz55 Lol he was asking me to make a bid to that so the other buyer would back out

lecsfam CRYING imagine the charles leclerc fighting you on a bid and losing

charles_leclerc What... we like dressing up, this way I can wear mine and we match ❤️

hamilecs I LOVEEE GIRLDAD CHARLES

charles_leclerc

liked by arthurleclerc, alexalbon23, maxverstappen, and 903,294 others

charles_leclerc Spent my day off with my favorite girl in the world 🌍

ynleclerc i see how it is 🤨

charles_leclerc Only cause you're my favorite person, amour

pierregasly My adorable baby girl! Tell her her favorite uncle says hi

landonorris You are not her favorite... charles_leclerc You're right, Lando! It's Enzo. Hope this helps :) landonorris What the fuck

charles_leclerc

liked by ynleclerc, lorenzotl, joris__trouche, and 1,294,299 others

charles_leclerc Emma had a tiring day at the mall today cause Y/N and I had to go shopping. Spirits were lifted once she made me wear the "cute" headbands she asked her mama to buy when I wasn't looking 🤣

ynleclerc respectfully looking...

livelaughcharles SHES SO ME I AGREE QUEEN

carlossainz55 If you ask me you should've worn the Minnie Mouse one

charles_leclerc If Emma asks, I would 🤷 (She says Minnie is for her)

ynleclerc recently added to her instagram story!

charles_leclerc recently added to his instagram story!

ynleclerc

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, lorenzotl, and 325,249 others

ynleclerc charles had to leave really early in the morning so he wasn't able to drop emma at school today, which made her really sad (and a bit crabby 🤣) but no problem is never solved when ice cream is involved! my little papa's girl is at it again ❤️

rest assured charles made it up to her by promising her all the ice cream she wishes for 🍦

lilymhe So you just accepted she's a massive daddy's girl

ynleclerc if you can't beat em, join em 🫡

landosnandos EMMA THE MOST ADORABLE

charles_leclerc Literally anything and everything she wants, I'll buy it 🤷

charliewowz pls adopt me

charles_leclerc recently added to his instagram story!

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, landonorris, ynleclerc, and 930,201 others

charles_leclerc Papa Diaries entry 16: Was Emma's playmate the whole day 🧸 Honestly that braid looks better on her that it did on me when I wore it earlier. She also borrowed some of her mama's make up so she can test it on me.

ynleclerc so that's why your lips were shade rouge red?

charles_leclerc Your daughter put me up to it ynleclerc MY daughter???

carlossainz55 Petition that you post your caked-up face PLEASE.

charles_leclerc

liked by arthurleclerc, scuderiaferrari, maxverstappen, and 1,204,583 others

charles_leclerc Emma makes all chores enjoyable ❤️

franciscagomes Maybe I should borrow Emma so Pierre can finally vacuum the basement?

pierresgirl SO ADORABLEEE ❤️

carlossirhamilton our fave dad-daughter duo!

ynleclerc

liked by lorenzotl, alexalbon23, landonorris, and 345,291 others

ynleclerc charles and emma in matching outfits for today. clearly, i didn't get the memo 🤣

luvahf1 So cute :(( Was this Charles' idea?

ynleclerc yes! apparently he wants to be matching with emma from now on 🤭

charles_leclerc This was unplanned I swear!

ynleclerc you literally took that outfit out last night before bed

-------------

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz, @boherahpsody (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

notes: thank u so much for reading <3

617 notes · View notes

kiefbowl · 8 months

Text

It is really interesting that buying something does give you a high. once you realize that it’s like…honestly crazed realizing buying/shopping/spending is an addiction. I will be sitting at my desk thinking “bored…I should go get an iced mocha” like the iced mocha isn’t even the thing I want it’s going and spending money!! The impulse is to stick your card into a little box that makes a little ding and suddenly you’re handed something as if by magic. And what’s crazy is that so many people don’t realize this. I really need to have a two month sabbatical in the woods I think it will reset my brain

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ithebookhoarder · 6 months

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A Whole Latte Love to Give 🍁 (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Description: You hate running late to work as it means you don't have time to stop for coffee - and what's worse, it's your favourite coffee season too.

A/N: It's Autumn and I'm a coffee addict so this felt right 😅 In fact, if anyone brings me coffee in the morning they are automatically my favourite for life 💕

Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, I think that's it.

Masterlist

You hated running late.

It was frustrating and meant you had to sprint to make sure you made it to the subway on time to get across town to your office. You’d also then end up arriving with your hair all over the place, out of breath, and normally dripping with an uncomfortable amount of sweat.

That alone would have been bad but when your boyfriend/boss had the super nose of a blood hound, it actually made you want to curl up into a ball and melt into the carpet.

Needless to say, you were having one of those days today. The alarm hadn’t gone off and you had barely had enough time to put a comb through your hair, let alone grab some form of breakfast, or more importantly, coffee.

You were embarrassed to admit how heavily you’d come to rely on the caffeinated beverage but honestly? It was all that kept you running most days. Besides, this was New York. People here were used to drinking it like it was water - which is to say you were struggling by the time you made it up the stairs to Nelson & Murdock. Worse still was the fact that you’d passed your favourite coffee shop on the corner as you’d sprinted to make it to your first meeting of the day.

The bright fall leaves glued in the window were mocking you as they declared the arrival of the season and with it, their drinks menu - including your favourite drink of all time: a pumpkin spice latte.

Yeah, that particularly stung as you had to physically drag yourself away, knowing you didn’t have the time. Damn it.

You’d have to wait til lunch to treat yourself and mark a start to your favourite season - a thought that had you grumbling to yourself as you finally made it up the stairs and to your office.

Thankfully, it was quiet when you pushed the door open and managed to drop your bag at your desk. No clients were sat waiting for you, ready to berate you for clocking in a whole five minutes late, which was a huge relief.

In fact, the only other person who appeared to be in the office at all was Matt - and even he seemed to have only just arrived, given the fact he hadn’t even taken off his coat yet. How strange. Normally he’d have been here a good twenty minutes or so already, having barely stopped long enough at his apartment for a quick power nap.

Maybe he was also running late this morning?

“Morning, Matt,” you sighed, by way of greeting. “Sorry, my stupid phone didn’t charge last night so I missed my alarm. I only woke up because the asshole builders outside my place decided to start construction a whole hour earlier than normal, which is a pain but kinda saved my ass in the end. I mean, thanks to them I at least had time to brush my teeth but that was it if I was going to make the subway- Oh!“

You stopped.

You stared down at your desk, surprised to see the steaming plastic cup sitting waiting for you. You were even more surprised to see your name scribbled on top, as well as your order printed on the side: a large Pumpkin Spice Latte.

“Is this for me?” you blinked, turning your gaze across the room. “You got me coffee?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have time,” Matt shrugged, in true Matt fashion. He always underplayed it whenever he did something for you. He never saw it as a big deal, whether it was taking a bullet for you or just grabbing your dry-cleaning. “You’re always in before I am unless you’re alarm fails to go off so… I grabbed you a coffee when I grabbed myself one. Don’t worry about it.”

“But … you got my favourite? You remembered?”

Matt laughed, holding his hand over his chest as he gasped in mock hurt. “Your surprise wounds me, sweetheart.”

“Oh, hush. It takes more than that to hurt the big bad Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Matty.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. You’re kind of my weak spot.”

His admission tugged at your heart and it was hard to hide the resulting grin, especially when he followed the words by stealing a kiss and pulling you into his arms.

This was always the best part of your morning routine, stealing a moment together before Foggy and Karen arrived. Just a perfect moment of peace, where nothing else existed other than the two of you. It was as if the world had stopped, just for a second, and there was no crazy crime bosses trying to kill you both, bills to pay, or clients in need of your help.

You were simply two people in love, starting another day at work with a cup of coffee.

“Have I told you today that you’re the best?” you hummed.

“Not today, I don’t think.”

“Well then, I’m telling you now. You’re my hero - my coffee grabbing hero.”

“At your service,” Matt chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But, you do know there’s an easier solution to this, right? One that would cut your commute in half and allow you ample time to get coffee in the morning?”

“Oh, what’s that? Super speed? Or are you going to show me how to parkour my way across rooftops?”

“Actually… I was thinking you could move in with me?”

You stopped.

Your head lifted so you could look him right in the eye. For a second you couldn’t tell if you’d misheard him or even just imagined it. “Are - are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he teased, his nerves showing as he waited for your answer. “Which is incidentally what you’ll have if you keep on drinking nothing but coffee all the time.”

“You are such a hypocrite, Murdock-”

“So what? That a deal breaker?”

“No,” you gasped, meaning every word. It was true. There was no force on earth that could drive you away from the man you were blessed to call your own. “I think, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”

“Wait, is that a yes?”

“Yes, Matt. It’s a yes.”

It was about a week later that you finally made the move a reality.

You spent the Saturday, assisted by a giddy Foggy and Karen, moving your boxes up the flights of stairs to Matt's apartment. They were only too eager to facilitate the pair of you finally moving in together (a fact proven by the fact you caught Foggy handing Karen a $50 bill. She had apparently bet you'd move in together before the end of the year).

"I had you down for six months ago," Foggy had grumbled, rolling his eyes at Karen's triumphant cheers. "Not my fault you two move at the pace of a glacier."

Still, you knew he was only joking. He was second only to Matt in his enthusiasm, helping move your worldly belongings about the apartment that was now also your home.

"I'm just going to run down and grab the last box from the van," you called, stepping out into the hallway and leaving the three of them to it.

However, you'd only made it a step when you heard someone calling your name.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

You turned and smiled at the kindly elderly woman who you knew to be Matt's closest neighbour. "Hi there, Mrs Manning."

You'd run into her a few times since you and Matt had started dating. She was a kind old soul who had been widowed sometime last year. Now, it was just her and her cat Tigger who resided in their apartment - and she had a real soft spot for your boyfriend.

"You doing ok?"

"Fine, thank you, dear," she smiled, gesturing to the few cardboard boxes still sat by the front door. "Those yours?"

"Uh, yes," you nodded awkwardly, sliding your hands into your pockets, “I’m actually moving in.”

"Well, finally. It was about time," she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Now I can have you both over for dinner. It'll be nice for me and for that darling boy in there to have some company. He always spends too much time alone. I swear, he is wasting away - never any meat on those bones of his."

"We'd love to come to dinner," Matt answered smoothly, opening the door and popping his head out with a stealth you still couldn't get used to. He must have heard you talking from the other side of the door. "And don't worry, Mrs Manning, we'll both take good care of each other."

"Good good - and don't worry, I'll have my music playing nice and loud for most of the night so make all the noise you need," she teased, winking cheekily at the pair of you before turning back towards her apartment.

You and Matt were left standing there, speechless.

"I'll see you lovebirds later."

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #marvel #marvel x reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #marvel daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil #marvel imagines #charlie cox #foggy nelson #karen page #fluff #flufftober

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lambtotheslaughterr · 2 months

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I Burn : Part Two

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.6k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | PART THREE

It was the weekend. You were relived. It meant no group sessions until Monday & the weekend was yours to do with as you pleased. Most often you spent time in either your room or the common space, making small talk with other patients. It was nothing like your weekends from before—going out with the few friends who could stand you, hitting the beach, or going shopping—but you were looking forward to it, nonetheless. All you had to do was get through your one on one session with Dr. Mooney. And you were anticipating it being a humiliating one, thanks to Renee.

You showered quickly & changed into a PJ set before making your way to Dr. Mooney’s office. Your fingers were tangled together, your nerves skyrocketing. As you passed near the front desk, you saw Nurse Carney out of her typical work clothes. She was dressed in a tank top, denim shorts, & cardigan. Hmm, must be her day off, you thought to yourself.

Dr. Mooney’s door was open when you entered. He was at his desk, typing away on his laptop. Since he hadn’t noticed you, you rapped lightly on the doorframe. He raised his eyes to meet yours. Your spine shivered.

“_____, welcome!” He greeted with that godly handsome smile on his face. He looked stellar in his button-up & tie, & the jeans he wore hugged him in all the right places. You forced yourself to keep your eyes from ogling him.

“Morning.” You kept your voice low.

Dr. Mooney came around his desk & approached you, reaching for the door to close it behind you, “Take a seat & we’ll get started.”

His office was homey & comfortable, which you imagined to be the point so you & other patients would feel at ease. But little did Dr. Mooney know that just being in the same room as him often made it hard for you to breathe, to control your urges & invasive thoughts. Dr. Mooney sat across from you while you got as comfortable as possible on the couch opposite him.

“How are you this morning?” This was the only time he worked without a clipboard. During the one-on-one’s Dr. Mooney simply listened & was present. His eyes would never leave you & you wished for nothing more that he would distract himself with writing down notes.

“Fine.” You replied with a forced smile. He chuckled lightly, “And how did you sleep?”

You shrugged. In reality you slept like a baby. After you had gotten yourself off in the calm room—three times—your body was more than willing to slip into a deep slumber.

“Not well?”

“No, I slept okay.” You assured him.

“Great.” He smirked, a hand placed under his chin, hid index finger running along the length of his jaw. Oh, how you wished to hold his face as you rode him.

“_____?”

You jumped as he spoke your name.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry. Lost in thought.” Lost, indeed.

“Since you were unable to partake in group discussion yesterday, we can start with the questions I asked the group.”

You were okay with that. Saturday’s morning sessions were always shorter to get a jumpstart on the weekend. You’d only be here for fifteen minutes or so, so your answers could be sweet & short without pressure.

“What thoughts or feelings have you had this week regarding your ability to function with your addiction?”

The question danced around your mind for some time. Honestly, you didn’t think much about it, but you couldn’t say that.

“I really don’t think it affected my life much.” You answered, your hands pressed against each other between your thighs. “I wasn’t in school, wasn’t working. My free time was really just hanging out by myself or with my friends.”

“Mhmm.” Dr. Mooney nodded, “And what about moving forward? Should your treatment work, have you thought about how your addiction could affect your life? You can’t be unemployed forever.”

With your parents’ money you absolutely could, but again, you couldn’t say that.

“Well if treatment works I won’t need to worry about it, right?”

“Unfortunately, that is rarely the case, _____.” Dr. Mooney leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands before him, making the veins in his forearms protrude. “People who are in recovery are oftentimes in the most vulnerable position. It’s where all your lessons, self-care, medications, routine, etc. are crucial to your improvement, & you—the addict—have to hold yourself accountable for that change.”

The thought unsettled you. Of course, deep down, you didn’t truly think you had a problem—you just liked sex more than most, but everyone else seemed to disagree. So you agreed with them to save face. But what worried you is that if treatment didn’t work, if you did have a problem, your parents wouldn’t have your back forever. After all, they put you in here. Could you be trusted on your own?

“Let’s do a scenario.” Dr. Mooney pondered a thought, “Treatment works. You’re out of here in 10 weeks. Jump to three months in recovery. You’re in school. It’s midterms. You have hours of studying ahead of you if you want a passing grade. You’re in a private corner of the library, it’s late at night. You’re tired, anxious, looking for anything to get you out of your head, out of studying. Just a break, that’s all you need. You get a text message from a friend—a male friend. He’s your age, there’s been light flirtatious banter. He asks you to come study with him at his apartment. What do you do?”

You gulped. You knew the right answer, & you also knew your answer.

“Ask if we can study together next time?”

Dr. Mooney smiled, “That’s not bad. There’s no wrong answer here. This is to practice responsibility.”

“But I wouldn’t be the only person blowing off steam. Others do it all the time.” You debated, “Especially college students.”

“But you are not most college students, _____. You are different, & that’s okay. But you need to work with that difference to better yourself. Of course, with lots of practice, holding yourself accountable, it’ll become easy. The more you do it, the less you’ll struggle. But the struggle will always be there. It’s a matter of overcoming it every single time.”

“So I have to celibate?” You rolled your eyes. Your parents would love that.

“No, no.” Dr. Mooney smiled, shaking his head, “There are many successful individuals out there who were in similar positions to yourself, who have a healthy relationship with sex. And that is the goal. A healthy relationship with it.”

You sighed, giving up, “Okay. I guess.”

Dr. Mooney then moved into the next topic. The dreaded topic.

“How often are you masturbating?”

It wasn’t a question you weren’t used to. He asked it weekly so far. But after yesterday, you felt heat bloom in your cheeks.

“Everyday.” You mumbled, picking at the hem of your shirt.

“Okay.” Dr. Mooney pressed his lips together in thought, “And do you need to?”

Again, you rolled your eyes, “No, but yes. It hurts if I don’t.”

“Hurts?”

“Yeah, like, I don’t know. Burns. Getting off helps.”

“And yesterday, in the woods…”

“Yeah.” You hung your head, “Urge came. I took care of it.”

“Right.” Dr. Mooney leaned back but he didn’t look displeased, just concerned. You were relieved with that at least. However, you dreaded him asking about what Renee had said yesterday; that it was his name on your lips. You couldn’t even recall saying it out loud, but apparently you had. Fortunately, he never brought it up.

“Perhaps we will find other ways for you to fulfill that…burn. Practice discipline.”

“How though?”

“Well, we’ll try new things. For this weekend though, anytime you get the urge really try to avoid it. The human brain is complex. It takes a lot of training to reroute behaviors. So, we’ll start small. Your homework for the weekend: anytime you feel the need to masturbate, I want you to write in your journal. Anytime you have an urge over the weekend, instead of masturbating, I want you to write about what you could be doing instead. The sky is the limit.”

“Anything? Like sleeping? That’ll be quick.”

“Sure. But perhaps if you get the urge when you should be sleeping, write about dreams you could be having whilst asleep. Use your imagination. And try to stray from sexual thoughts. I want you to really push yourself to not act on your sexual impulses.”

“So, no getting off is what you’re saying?”

“That is the goal, yes. I don’t expect immediate results, but this is practice. So practice.”

You sighed, nodding, “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Perfect.” Dr. Mooney stood up, “Well, unfortunately our time is up. But come Monday morning I hope to hear some progress, alright?”

“Yes, doctor.”

Saturday dragged on. You spent a majority of your time in the common space, paying little attention to the TV & the sounds of other patients milling about around you. A journal sat in your lap. Dr. Mooney had given it to you before you left his office. You savored the gift, though it was hardly a gift. But it was his. And you savored that.

It was a little past six when an employee announced that it was dinner time. You followed the others into the cafeteria. It was soup & bread night. There was four soups to choose from, a tray of breads, & a side of veggies. You chose the broccoli cheese soup with a half loaf of bread that reminded you of the kind from The Cheesecake Factory & a side of green beans & steamed carrots. Your drink of choice was a Fiji water.

You sat at your usual table in the corner by the window, facing away from the rest of the room. Though you had done virtually nothing all day, you were tired, bored out of your mind. More so, you hadn’t gotten that burning feeling that you had talked about. It only kind of concerned you.

As you sat in silence, eating by yourself, you were lost in thought, unaware of the figure approaching your table. It wasn’t until the chair next to you screeched lightly against the floor that you finally noted them. When your eyes landed on the blue pairs next to you, you immediately felt your muscles tense, your walls go up.

“Hey, nympho.” The new kid, Rafe, smirked as he dipped his bread into his bowl of soup.

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Your voice nearly inaudible, too in shock from his insulting greeting.

Rafe chewed, the smug smirk never leaving his face. He had a dimple on the left side of his face that drew your attention. Regretfully, it only made him…cuter.

“That’s your nickname, isn’t it?”

“No.” You looked away, your voice hard, “It’s not.”

Rafe continued to eat beside you, & you could feel his eyes watching you as you twirled your spoon around your soup, your appetite suddenly lost.

“Stop. Staring.” You hated how goosebumps were appearing on your skin, how your spine tingled. You bit your lip. His attention was…not helping.

“So, sex addict, huh? Kinda bogus, in my opinion.” He commented.

You felt your brows furrow, “I guess.”

“I mean, sex is normal. I think people should be having more of it, then there’d be less assholes, right?” He knocked his knee into yours. You parted your lips at the contact. Oh no. You let go of the spoon in your hand, dropping your hands to your lap. Your thighs tensed.

“I think it’s just because you’re a girl.” At that, you finally looked at him. You didn’t miss how his eyes trailed the length of you, again, until his eyes met yours. “Gotta be all modest as a female. But no one bats an eye at a guy who likes to fuck a lot.”

Words failed you, but his opinion stuck with you. Would it be different if you were a guy? Would your parents have put you in here? Surely they wouldn’t care about a boy who acts like a boy, but god forbid they have a floozy as a daughter..

“I’m right, ya know.” Rafe shrugged, “I don’t think either of us should be here.”

“Maybe we’ll prison break.” You shared thoughtlessly.

Rafe grinned proudly at that, “Run away together, huh?”

You shook the thought from your head. It would surely lead your thoughts astray.

Standing up from your seat, you grabbed your tray of food.

“Aw, don’t let me scare you away.” Rafe leaned back in his seat to smile up at you, “I swear I’m a nice guy.”

You didn’t need to know him well to know that wasn’t true.

Ignoring him, you dumped your food in a nearby trash, placed your tray near the window to the kitchen, & left the room. You fingered the journal in your hand, your nails digging into the back of it. Your breathing was becoming labored, that burning feeling in the pit of your center returning. You stifled a groan by biting your lip. You wanted to take care of it, to disappear into your room for ten minutes. But you thought of Dr. Mooney. Regardless if you thought you had a real problem or not, you didn’t want to let him down.

Once you got to your room, you shut the door. There was no locks on them, but other patients knew not to walk into someone’s room without knocking first. You’d be safe & alone.

Depositing yourself at the desk in your room, you flipped open the journal & snagged a pen from a holder to your left.

I could be eating right now. Enjoying the rest of my food instead of dumping it. I could be savoring every bite, imagining myself at The Cheesecake Factory. I could be ordering the classic cheesecake, & ordering another one to take home. I could be in the car with my parents as they traded small talk. I could be staring out the window with a full stomach. I could be anxious to get home so I can keep watching the newest season of KUWTK. I could be home, in my room, in my house. I could not be here. I could have better parents.

You slammed the pen down, having grown frustrated instead. The burning was mostly gone, having been replaced with anger. You huffed, your arms crossed in front of you. Rafe’s words echoed in your head. I think it’s because you’re a girl.

God, fuck your parents. Rafe wasn’t wrong! You didn’t have a problem! Not a real one, anyway. Your only problem was that you were born to conservative parents who cared more about their image & careers than their own daughter. You liked sex, but you weren’t dependent on it. You didn’t need to have it, but you liked having it. Just like everyone else, especially guys your age.

Pushing yourself back from your desk, you paced around your room, shaking away your nerves. Your anxiety was growing. It was too early in the evening for the nurse’s to make their rounds & give patients their prescribed medication. You’d have to distract yourself in the meantime.

Back in the common space, you were glad to see the TV was unoccupied & the room empty. You crashed onto the couch, flicking the TV on. After scrolling through the cable guide, you chose to watch Spongebob reruns. You were only a couple minutes into the episode when a figure appeared from the main entrance. Rafe. You sighed.

Rafe came to stand by the couch, at the end where your head was resting, but did not sit. In your peripheral, you saw his hands in his pockets as he stared at the TV. His presence was lingering, his shadow practically over you as he just stood there. You couldn’t enjoy the show like this.

Sitting up, you huffed, glaring up at him, “Can I help you?”

“Nah.” Rafe didn’t look at you, “Just enjoying the nostalgia of my childhood.”

Your eyes flicked from him back to the TV. You could sense that he was enjoying this despite his dismissive response. There was that hint of a smug smirk on his face. You licked your lips, annoyed.

“Can you just…go away? Please.”

Rafe finally looked at you, feigning surprise. He looked around the room, as if confused. “Oh, did you reserve the room?

You felt your jaw tick. Would you have to hide in your room all night? Because this guy was definitely not getting the point. Instead, you forced yourself to try to ignore him. After a minute or so, he finally sat. Right next to you. You shifted, moving to the furthest end of the couch. Rafe shamelessly followed. He was being invasive, annoying. You imagined that this is what it was like to have a brother.

“Am I ruining this for you?” He asked, his voice low, too close for comfort. Dangerous, even.

But you knew he was egging you on. You had to not give him what he was looking for.

“Nope.” But your body language said otherwise & you knew it. Rafe smirked, widening his legs until his left one grazed against your own. You tucked your legs under you, the goosebumps returning. Then he stretched his arms along the back of the couch. His left hand just over your left shoulder. Your spine tingled.

It took everything in you to not look at him, to glare at him, to admire the features of his face or take your own once over of him. You battled with your desire to appreciate him, his attention, how close he was. Fuck, did you have a problem? It wouldn’t be the first time, or probably last, that you’d be attracted to a royal douchebag, but he was intentionally being one. And yet, you couldn’t help but be curious about him.

“Hey.” Rafe leaned close, his breath fanning the side of your face. Your hands gripped your thighs, tensing up. “Do you mind turning it up a little? Hard to hear it past your heavy breathing.”

You whipped your head to face him. He was close. Your noses practically touching. Rafe stared into your eyes & you his. As he had you locked in, you noticed that your breathing was indeed heavy. You were losing control.

“See something you like?” Your eyes fell to his lips. You imagined them on your neck, your breasts, down below…

Rafe smirked, “Gotcha.”

Shooting forward from your spot on the couch, you rushed from the common space to your room. You through a smiteful look over your shoulder as Rafe chuckled softly to himself.

“Goodnight, nympho.”

Fuck you. You slammed the door to your room & collapsed onto your bed.

The burning consumed you.

It was Sunday. The worst day. Community outreach day.

Every Sunday, your group goes out & does community service. A way to give back, but also—as Dr. Mooney says—to remind yourselves that there are things bigger than yourself. You didn’t buy it though. Never have you done community work & the last two times you had done it since being there didn’t change your mind about how a waste of time it was.

Nurse Carney, like usual, was to lead the group for the day. And the community project you would be participating in on that Sunday was working with at-risk youth to build a garden center for the elderly at a nearby senior home. You already didn’t enjoy the idea of getting dirty & sweating all day under the summer sun.

After getting dressed, you joined the others near the front of the facility where the lobby was. Siena & Albert were already there, talking quietly to one another. Nurse Carney was filling out paperwork while you all waited for the other two. Both of whom you’d be happy to leave without.

You said your ‘hey’s’ to Albert & Siena before sitting in a chair nearby. Shortly after, Renne, followed by Rafe a minute later, appeared.

“We’re all here.” Nurse Carney gleamed, “Van is waiting! Let’s get going.”

As you waited to climb in after the others, relieved that Renee opted for passenger, you only realized too late that Albert & Siena took the rear row, leaving the middle row for you & Rafe Cameron. As you buckled in on the farthest side, loathing the seating arrangement of the van, you tried to ignore him as he sat directly next to you. He had no choice. There was no middle seat. Just the left one you were in & then the one that would be considered the middle seat if there was a right seat. But where the right seat should have been was a gap to make accessing the third row easier.

Nurse Carney turned in her seat, double checking everyone was buckled like you all were her precious toddlers, before turning the ignition on & exiting the rounded pull-through of the facility driveway.

As the van rumbled beneath you, you felt a small, cool sensation near the top of your knees. Your eyes flashed to touch, finding Rafe’s index knuckle grazing the exposed skin there. You shoved his hand away & crossed that leg over the other, angling your body as best as you could to face away from him.

But in the reflection of the window, you saw that goddamn fucking annoying smirk on his face. And then his eyes met yours in the reflection.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to not let him get to you. But it was only nine in the morning.

You resented the long gruesome day ahead of you.

part two! please share your thoughts & feelings via comments, reblogs w reviews, or dropping an ask. it's early days for this work so please talk to me so i stay motivated to write it more often.

as always, thank you for reading.

beau<3

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark!fic #non con fic #dark!fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #dark!outer banks #i burn part two

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vide0-nasties · 3 months

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THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME EMILY @lemon-bats 🥰🥰

1. Were you named after anyone?

To the best of my knowledge no, at least for my real name! My internet name, Rags, I actually just ended up snagging from one of my OCs - a washed up rockstar named Cosimo Ragatz, who was a recovering drug addict that founded an indie record label with his wife.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Oh god, it was some time last week?? So much real life stuff had piled up and I think it was honestly some kind of mini-break or smth, god only knows. But I’m feeling better now lol.

3. Do you have kids?

ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NOT LMAO. My mom passed when I was young and I raised my younger siblings, I’ve done my time in the child rearing mines and I’m never doing it again.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

For a really long time I rode horses and I was a really good three day eventer. I also really loved archery and swimming. I also rode dirt bikes too, and I’d love to get back into it!! 🥰🥰

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Yes indeed!! But I’m not sure that I use it as much as I used to. Not for any particular reason, I don’t think dgheh.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

I’m boring and predictable and I pretty much always notice height first 😂😂 I do also notice face shapes and noses, though!!

7. What’s your eye color?

Dark brown that leans pretty close to black dfhjd.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Each have their own benefits and negatives!! A time and a place for everything 👏👏

9. Any talents?

I’m a good writer, and I’m pretty good at accents! I also like to think I’m the funniest asshole in any given room at any time 😂😅

10. Where were you born?

Commonwealth of Virginia babeyyyyy 🦩 there aren’t cardinal emojis, but I’m still barely south enough to be southern lol.

11. What are your hobbies?

I like posting video games, writing, playing dnd, a lil bit of digital art. Painting my nails. Dfhjd. Running outta stuff here, uhhhh. Panicking trying to remember my meds, but that’s more a full time occupation lol.

12. Do you have any pets?

Four dogs (a cocker spaniel, a border collie, a pit bull, and a boxer lab 🥰🥰), some barn cats, and a little grade paint horse named Rooster who’s a complete ASSHOLE.

13. How tall are you?

5’6” or 5’7”, it depends on how tall I want to feel that day dghjd

14. Favorite subject in school?

History and English!!! I really wanted to be a historical researcher for a career when I was in school and I still think about it. I would’ve liked to study Appalachian history from pre-Civil War to present.

15. Dream job?

LOL 😂😂 historical researcher, possibly an author, or a rare and antique jewelry shop owner siiigh. I really fell in love with fine jewelry at my last job, and I would DIE to be able to do it again, but in a much more niche fashion.

No Pressure tags: @smoggyfogbottom @brilliantblasphemer @dotcie @kastlequill @skinnyazn @snail-eggs @lunarvicar @siriusleee 💖💖

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theblue6ook · 2 months

Text

The Young Years PT 3

Summary: This is a prequel to "Shit Interview" in the "Out of My League" series. Read about Bruce and Y/N in their troubled teens. What about their past makes them work so well together? You'll find out. (Hint: they've both been through major struggles.)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Death and blood. Also, Bruce is all the drama. [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Caught [B(19) Y/N(17)]

First, it was selling illegal car parts. Then, it was modifying cars illegally. Then, it was racing. Y/N didn't have to worry about money anymore, but she still kept appearances up at Dorthie’s Flowers with Carrie; she didn’t want to look suspicious. The house was paid off, the utilities were paid, and she started saving money for her brothers' school funds. She was set, and even better, she was a winner.

Ronnie taught her how to properly drive at 13. The lot for the mechanic shop was pretty big, and honestly, there were barely any cops in this part of town. The only rule was don’t go past the narrows. Once she hit 14, she was starting to get good. After modifying cars, she’d head out and watch the races, watch the different moves people made with their cars, recreate them on cars they were working on, and if they got fucked up, she’d fix them before anyone knew.

By 15, she was in races. By 16, she was coming in second. By 17, she was dominating. The money she had saved was insane, but there was one problem. The races were moving out of the narrows, and the cops were cracking down, particularly Don Colley and his partner Jim Gordon. All she had to do was keep her head down. She should have stopped. She had money saved, but the rush was so addicting, and the money was so rewarding. In her eyes, as long as no one knew who she was, what was the damage?

Getting caught. Getting caught was the damage.

The last race she was in was over by Gotham Harbor. She was in first, per usual, when the police swarmed. She was on her way out, swearing and huffing, when one of the drivers, trying to make a break for it, spun out and crashed. She didn’t even think. She stopped the car and ran out to help, but it was too late. It was a horrid scene. The airbags didn’t go off, and his car had smashed him into the steering wheel. His chest was caved in, and there was so much blood everywhere. It smelled like gasoline and death. There was no mistaking it, the driver that passed was David Colley, the Comminsioner’s son, and oh did he blame Y/N. She was caught on the scene and the only one he had to blame. Boy, did he fight hard when she went to court, lucky for her, Jim Gordan saw right through it, and so did the judge…

“You were a part of the Martha Wayne Foundation?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“You say you were doing this to provide a good home for your brothers after your mother left? Help your father pay the bills?”

“Yes, your honor.” Y/N felt the sweat on her temple, and her heart was beating so quickly. She felt fucked. She felt like she ruined her life, but the judge only hummed and thought quietly. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, and the entire courtroom was on the edge of their seats.

“Despite having the wrong motivation, I think you have a good head on your shoulders. You’re young,” he continued, “I don’t want you to throw your life away in jail. So, here’s what I’m going to do. Not only will you return the money won to the court, but you will also complete six months of community service. Pay two fines, each $1000. One for the drag racing conviction and the other for the illegal gambling. Is that clear?”

It didn’t go over well with Don Colley. He ended up stepping down from the position of commissioner as Jim Gordon stepped up…it didn’t go well with her father either.

“What are you doing with your life?!” he covered his face with his hands. “You know what, it might have been easier if you were in jail and not wasting my money, my time-”

“Your money?!” Y/N interrupted. “Who’s been running your business? Who’s been providing? You haven’t even stepped out of the house in years!”

“Will you shut up! Do you not understand you are ruining your life-”

“Oh, so now you want to be a parent?” Y/N was up in arms. After years of picking up after him, providing, and putting food on the table, this is what she gets?

"You know what, go fuck yourself. You don't want me as your parent? You can get the FUCK out of my house!"

“The house I paid for? The house I clean and cook in and drag your ass into when it’s snowing. That house!?” she shouted until her throat hurt. Maybe she shouldn't have, she knew she fucked up, but she was so tired. So tired of taking care of other people. Every sentence she punctuated with a step closer to him until she was up in his face.

"You're unstable. You're not good for me. You’re not good for the boys. You need to leave," he looked into her eyes.

"I may be unstable, but you've always been a shit father." That seemed to be the last straw.

“GET OUT!” he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her out the screen door. He had never in her 17 years ever put his hands on her. He had always been silently grateful. Silently watching as she keeps the house running. He had never shoved her the way he did now.

“What the fuck-” she said, stumbling down to the ground.

“You don’t live here anymore. Tell Carrie to pick up your things.” He went to step inside but paused, looking over his shoulder. "You can't live here until you get your act together, and I can't live with you until I get my act together."

Her father stepped inside. She heard her brothers through the door asking what was happening and where she was. Y/N sat out on the concrete steps and said nothing. Was there anything to say? Slowly, she stood and made her way down the block.

Bruce wasn’t sure what to consider his position here. Was he a prisoner? Would they let him leave when the time came? At least they were training him. They’ve been training him for the past two years.

It wasn’t hard for him to leave Gotham. When he was fifteen, he received his diploma. He had skipped enough grades to get it and had enough credits through online courses. That was the deal with Alfred. You can go and travel, but you’re going to be officially educated. He traveled with Alfred for some time. Moving to different places, training with different people, learning different languages. Then, things went sideways. He was recognized. He was robbed. He could defend himself at this point, but not from twenty people. That’s ridiculous. In the end, he ended up in a Bhutanese Prison. This is where he met Ras Al Ghul. A strange man who had broken him out of prison and asked him what his plans were. Bruce didn’t really have a choice, so he told him. Now he was here, but honestly, where was he? He had no clue.

He had learned so much. He would continue to learn so much. He would solve his parents' murder, and he would solve Gotham. That was the plan. If he can survive here, he can survive anywhere.

He looked up at the ceiling of his bunk. He was bunked with many other soldiers and assassins; he wasn’t sure who they were. He had thought about Alfred. What he might be doing? What he did do after Bruce had been taken? The door to his bunk had opened, and there was the strange man who had found him.

“It is time,” he said. Bruce stood and followed him out to the training grounds. He sparred with different soldiers, at some points, several at a time. Another trainee was sparring as well. Eventually, they were tasked with sparring with each other. Bruce moved flawlessly, and his master smiled. He fought easily and used his opponent's faults against him until he had him on the ground.

“That’s good,” he grinned. “Now kill him.”

Bruce’s blood went cold. He looked over at the man, startled. “I can’t - I can’t kill him. He did nothing wrong. We were just training.”

“Training is to prepare you for real-life situations. You may have to kill someone, so it’s best to do it now. Kill him.”

Bruce held his breath, and his sword rose to strike. Training. That’s what it was. If I want to clean up Gotham, there has to be sacrifice. I have to do this-

You really think this is what your father would have wanted? You going to prison for the rest of your life? To kill someone?

The sword came down hard and swiftly, puncturing the ground. His master turned toward him, angry. He grabbed Bruce by the shoulder, shoving him to the ground as he dug his own sword into the struggling trainee on the ground. “Is this what you’re so afraid of? Death. These are the necessary sacrifices we must make for the good of the world.”

Red stained the snow around them, and the smell of blood lingered in the air.

“Well, that’s not the way I’m going to do it,” he stood stubbornly.

“How do you expect order? How do you expect to deal with the chaos?”

“Fear.”

#bruce wayne x reader #batfam #batfamily #batmom #batman #young!bruce #bruce wayne

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