#she went on a trip with her friend this week

[lewkwoodnco]

how did it end? - anthony lockwood x reader

Come one, come all.

She felt vilified, commodified into some grotesque circus show for the sadistic, satisfied smiles of everyone else. Just as much of a spectacle as she was all those years ago.

It's happening again.

Look at them. Safe, and assured, and happy. It was revolting. They didn't understand an ounce of what she went through, they never would. 

And all anyone wants to know is...

After today they would go home to their other friends and family and smugly recount the battered, fragile mess they ran into that afternoon, sick with glee as they described the aimless circles she wore into the floors, a pathetic husk of the agent she once was.

...how did it end?

a/n: will update this once i wake up!

warnings/tropes: tw death, canon divergent, tw death i MEAN it, the empty grave spoilers, hurt/comfort, lotta angst

word count: 4.6k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

The beginning was etched into his ribs. He could never forget it. In the following weeks when everyone wanted to know all about it, they would give the same humorously vague answer, conveniently leaving out the smaller, more important details they held close to their chests. We met at a florist's, they would say, and decided to start an agency. And how they handled the string of hauntings along Mulberry Lane in a week when agencies far stronger than theirs had been at it for months? Well, that was simply the product of her experience and his keen eye.

What they chose to leave out was this: after multiple failed attempts at registering his agency with DEPRAC, Lockwood had reached his wit's end and had decided to give up on the venture. Turns out, DEPRAC wasn't quite tolerant of budding agencies with only one member. With little else to do, he decided to take a mid-morning trip to the all-too-familiar Kensel Green Cemetery. Perhaps something in him sought forgiveness from their hollow husks.

Once he had reached, it felt to be in poor taste to enter empty-handed. He had crossed the street to the florist on the other side and picked out a small bouquet of white chrysanthemums.

"Chrysanthemums?"

Lockwood flinched badly. He looked up to see a surprisingly familiar face critically eyeing the now-battered bouquet, its thin plastic slick in his clammy palms. He recognised her the way half of London did - from the papers. Bright enough to make a name for herself through especially complicated cases, her rise through the ranks from smaller agencies to the Fittes Agency had been sparsely documented through the local media. The last of the glowing commendations even alluded to the position of team supervisor being within her reach at the tender age of fifteen. In a world plagued with fear, she had one of the best lives any parent could wish for their child - that is, until tragedy struck.

Perhaps the most curious detail of it all was the proximity of the incidents. After her first harrowing escape from a badly botched case where she was the sole survivor of her team, the city's sympathies were stirred for the poor, unsuspecting agent who, even now, brimmed with promise. There was a short inquiry, it was an intriguing piece of news, but it all blew over within the week. No matter, thought most people. Perhaps she'd have to wait a year or two more to be team supervisor.

It was barely a month before the next incident, nearly identical to the last, except in the nature of the cases. This time, considerably more eyebrows were raised. It was one thing to explain one incident away, but two? This inquiry lasted a solid month, and in the end, she was declared innocent, but by then she had unfortunately been severed from Fittes. Still, Rotwell Agency had happily snapped her up, until the third incident two weeks later.

As expected, that was the final blow on her strained career, extinguishing any hope of her once again harnessing the renown she once held. As each inquiry progressed, everyone wanted to know: what happened? Why did it happen? How did it all come crashing down so spectacularly? She didn't come out unscathed physically either. A close brush with Ghost Touch in the last incident left the nerves in the outer corner of her right eye paralysed. It not only reduced her normal vision but also left her Sight permanently disfigured. 

In the papers, more than one outlet had the gall to suggest that perhaps it was deserved. Perhaps the incidents weren't as accidental as she would like everyone to believe. While the media spun nauseating defamatory narratives, each one more cruel than the last, the public image of Y/N L/N began to take a life of its own, twisting and warping into something horrid. At this point, Lockwood had not expected Rotwell's to go through the effort or disgrace of letting her go, and twelve days after the inquiry had finished, it was reported that she had resigned. It was almost impressive how long she had stuck it out. Lockwood had heard about these kinds of things through the grapevine - agents being forced into early retirement - but had never seen an example documented as liberally as this.

The saving grace of the events was that the whole ordeal was over in three months. All before her sixteenth birthday. And now here she was, standing feet away from him across a florist's shop, London's most wanted ex-agent. Two years on, she seemed just as lithe and alert as she did in the articles published years back, except for the hard edge of the newfound intensity in her rheumy eyes.

"Quite the hothouse flower, isn't it? Delicate. Fragile."

Lockwood smiled hesitantly. "It just needs a little extra care."

She smiled back, though she seemed unsure, and was quiet for a long time. Her gaze flickered to the chrysanthemums. 

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Lockwood thought back to the articles ripping her to shreds, the ones she never refuted, as if she had been paralysed by...something.

"I'm sorry for yours."

She stared at him blankly for a minute, as if she didn't understand, and then bowed her head. It felt miraculously easy to talk to each other as if they had stumbled through their grief towards this bittersweet meeting.

"You'd be better off with a hardier flower in this weather. Something strong...something tough." She adjusted the bouquet of yellow irises in her arms, bursting with joy against the grey backdrop of Lockwood's pale face, black suit, and white flowers. "Especially with Mulberry Lane being only a street over."

By then, the Mulberry Lane hauntings had picked up significant steam and media attention. Once assigned to only Fittes and Rotwell, it eventually attracted the attention of nearly every agency in the city. What started as a regular haunting in one house became a whole street of hauntings, stemming only once DEPRAC had cordoned the street off with iron barricades. Naturally, only agents were allowed on the premises, not that it stopped Lockwood from making an unofficial visit or two. The problem was, as self-assured as he was in his abilities, even he was forced to admit that this was no one-man job. But maybe, if he played his cards right...

"Yes, what a case that is..." Lockwood wandered down the aisle as she turned around to browse the other bouquets, deceptively nonchalant, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. "...been at it for weeks now."

"You're an agent?"

"Yes. Have my own agency, in fact, as of this morning."

"...is that so?"

Eventually, he persuaded her to work with him on the Mulberry Lane case. At the start of their first meeting, she mentioned that there wasn't any agency registered as Lockwood & Co., and asked if he was planning to harvest her liver, which he vehemently denied before accusing her of trying to harvest his liver in his panic. He took it as an overwhelmingly positive sign that she hadn't walked out right there and then, and was good-humoured enough to laugh about it. But the fact remained that they still weren't registered as agents under DEPRAC, and so the next Saturday night, they snuck to the Mulberry Lane gate with a pair of bolt cutters.

She clearly found the whole thing highly amusing as she held the flashlight while Lockwood struggled with the cutters.

"So...why do you want to start your own agency? Fittes and Rotwell not good enough for you?"

He struggled to catch his breath before responding. "I...I always preferred doing things my way."

"You mean the illegal way?"

"The efficient way."

They snickered quietly in the dead of the night, and with one last heave, he snapped the iron chain clean apart. Lockwood slipped inside and, with a little difficulty, helped her through. She could still make out their surroundings well enough, but in a place as infested as Mulberry Lane, it was safer to err on the side of caution.

After a few weeks of researching by day and breaking into Mulberry Lane by night, they found the Source - a dandelion whose seeds had drifted into the gardens of the other houses. Of course, they weren't about to start looking for individual dandelion seeds, but with a little bit of acid, Mulberry Lane was soon Visitor-free. Lockwood revelled in the following explosion of media attention and, upon resubmitting the application with not one but two members listed, Lockwood & Co. was finally registered under DEPRAC as an official agency.

He remembered having some photographs taken for some publication during their fifteen minutes of fame. She was sitting on a stool with Lockwood standing behind her, and they kept nervously whispering to each other between the shots.

"This is it," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"What?"

"The start of the rest of our lives."

"God, you're so dramatic."

"And you're not being dramatic enough. Wasn't all this...stolen from you?"

"I never asked for it in the first place."

"This is basically your birthright."

"Lockwood."

And then they got told off for chattering away again. They sobered up and fell silent, but not before Lockwood placed a hand on her shoulder. She briefly brushed against his knuckles with her fingertips, and that shot ended up being published as the cover of the publication's issue for the month.

The media frenzy had sent hordes of applicants their way, and to celebrate the successful launch of the agency Lockwood decided to throw a party at Portland Row. He was wandering around the house in his usual button-down folded at the elbow, weaving through the crowds as he peered into the rooms looking for Y/N while being stopped and congratulated by nearly every attendee. He finally found her in the study, at his desk, reading the case journal they had started for the Mulberry Lane hauntings.

With some effort, he slipped inside, a pair of champagne flutes in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. She looked up and pushed some papers aside as he set the glasses down and uncorked the bottle. They clinked their glasses together before taking a sip, silently toasting to one another, the muffled hubbub outside the door feeling miles away.

"So," she started after her first sip, "between the champagne and the party, do you have any money left from what DEPRAC gave you?"

Lockwood chose to respond by taking another, longer sip. Once he had finished, he conveniently changed the subject.

"Speaking of DEPRAC, I haven't finalised the agency name yet. I was thinking...Lockwood & L/N?"

A piece of her heart breaks as soon as he utters those words. Dread pools in her stomach like acid. She closes the journal and sets it aside.

"Lockwood...I only wanted to help you get your agency off the ground - which, by the way, congratulations. But you don't need me anymore. You have much more reliable agents lining up at your door."

"Do you possibly think I could trust any of them as much as you?"

"I-I'm only going to be a burden." She feels hot tears behind her eyes as the pressure in her chest builds. "You deserve agents who can at least See fine."

He puts his champagne down, frowning. "But there wouldn't be any agency without you. Really, Y/N, don't be daft - what's mine is yours."

She stares at him for a beat and, despite her better judgement, caves. She doesn't say how she doesn't want some diluted, only half-there version of herself lingering on like some stench of formaldehyde in her father's old taxidermy workshop.

"Fine. I'll stay, but only if you keep my name out - I've had enough attention for a lifetime."

Thus, Lockwood & Co. was born. Over time, they took on two new employees, George Karim and Lucy Carlyle. The media followed along on their larger cases: half malice, half morbid fascination. In their downtime, they worked together to fashion a pair of special goggles for Y/N to make her Sight more receptive to supernatural triggers. It was still nowhere as sharp as it once was, but it was enough for her to no longer be solely reliant on the others. Not only did it help Y/N, but it also gave Lockwood greater peace of mind on the cases he had to sit out when his migraines were unmanageable.

As Lucy and George had soon learnt, Lockwood suffered from chronic migraines, which raged on unaffected by the prescriptions Y/N had to practically shove down his throat. While he refused to go for regular tiresome check-ups, he would reluctantly have a lie-down on evenings when the pounding in his head grew too strong. 

He'd shuffle to the living room as the rest of them were heading out, carefully bundled up, and fall into a fitful, drowsy sleep until they returned. He'd listen to them quietly taking their equipment down into the basement, and Y/N would creep in to see how he was doing. He'd ask how the case went, she'd try to take his temperature, and if he was looking especially poorly, she'd press her icy cold hands onto his clammy forehead. In short, life wasn't perfect, but it wasn't terrible, and that was all they could have asked for.

If anyone were to have asked Lucy or George when it had all started to go downhill, they would have pointed to the bet with Kipps. She had been finalising some paperwork with Saunders while Lockwood had provoked Kipps into a bet, and no one had bothered to mention it until she forced it out of George the next day. If the muffled argument from the kitchen was any indication, the revelation hadn't gone over well, and they spent the rest of their day roaming around with faces like thunder. The squabble lasted a couple of days, during which she threatened and begged him to call off the bet, which he adamantly refused. She waited to broach the subject again until George and Lucy had gone to bed and it was just the two of them in the study, Lockwood sitting on the floor leaning against the armchair she had snuggled into.

"What if you lose? What if something goes wrong?"

"I won't lose because I'm the better agent."

"You realise this bet is in no way an indication of your actual skills, right? This is just some pissing contest to stroke both of your overinflated egos."

"Why? You know Kipps?"

"I was on his team for a while, yes. We've talked, but not much. My point is, you're acting like a child."

"I can't exactly back out now. Kipps would be a git about it...and people would talk."

"I thought you didn't care about what people thought."

"Of course I care. It'd be foolish not to."

She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off, lightly resting his hand on her ghost-patterned sock.

"Just...trust me. Please?"

Again, against her better judgement, she relented and uncharacteristically dropped the topic, biting back her words as she watched Lockwood desperately scramble to make headway in the case over the next couple of days. Things finally came to a head one evening when he, dizzy with lack of sleep, slammed his head into a concrete arch, luckily escaping with only a gash through the eyebrow. 

She sat him down at one of the corners of the kitchen table, first aid kit to the side as she disinfected the wound. Now that his fall had sobered him up enough to dilute his manic adrenaline spree, he was starting to feel a little ashamed. He hissed in pain as his head jerked back with her insistently pressing the antiseptic into the wound, perhaps a little harsher than was entirely necessary. He blinked through his watery eyes as he tried to break the awkward silence with his raspy voice.

"Uh, do you think...stitches?" 

She manhandled his head into a few different angles before responding, her voice ominously clear of any emotion. "You'll survive."

The embarrassment was washing over him in waves now. He hadn't felt this vulnerable or stupid since Jessica's death.

"I'm sorry."

She sighed, discarded the cotton and started dressing the wound slowly, almost thoughtfully. "You don't need to apologise to me. If anything, you owe yourself an apology. That looked like it hurt."

He grimaced, then relaxed into the cold, soothing ointment she was delicately applying.

"I don't know what's gotten into you lately. Or maybe you've always been this competitive." She slipped her free hand into one of his as if holding on for support while her knees buckled underneath her. "But you're going to get yourself killed."

 He folded his fingers over hers reassuringly. Her hand twisted anxiously, clumsily clutching a few of his fingers. It reminded Lockwood of how she had fumbled for his hand on their first night together at Mulberry Lane, all those months back.

"I need you to understand that I can't have it all happen again." Lockwood stared at their entangled fingers in his lap, her fingertips raw and tinged with pink. She had never opened up about the tragedies, and as he sat there, listening to her ill-disguised shaky breaths, he finally understood why. "It was - there isn't a night I don't relive it. My family...they said I was so strong to go through all of that. But I don't think I'm strong enough to go through it one last time."

But it was too little too late. Whatever boulder Fate had rolled in their direction had started to pick up speed, and was dangerously close. Less than nineteen hours later, Y/N L/N walked out of Portland Row and out of Lockwood & Co., for good.

Kipps was nothing if not a strategist, and when news reached that Lockwood & Co. was now down one member, he sent the media hounds close behind them. The front porch of Portland Row became a breeding ground for oily reporters sticking their microphones out into their faces if any of them so much as went out to collect the mail. At her old apartment two streets down, Y/N dealt with a similar infestation the same way she did the first time - dressing inconspicuously, keeping her head down and praying it would all be over sooner rather than later.

She drifted through the days with a nauseating kind of hollowness. She couldn't remember what she had been living for before Lockwood, and all that consumed her were thoughts of how it ached to be missing some phantom limb. Her partner in crime. Her best friend.

Eventually, she pulled herself together enough to make a trip to the grocery store. As soon as she entered, she regretted not making some kind of list beforehand as she aimlessly wandered through the aisles, struggling to think of something as mundane as what to fuel her body with.

"Y/N?"

She flinched badly, before turning to see two old acquaintances from Fittes. They had a short lighthearted chat, all of them ignoring the elephant in the room as they made small talk, until one of them could no longer hold themselves back.

"You know," Isla began in her sharp, piercing voice of hers, "I read the darnedest thing in the papers the other day. Said you left this agency...Look-wood & Co.?"

She gave a pained smile. "You know, you shouldn't believe everything you read."

"Oh. So it's not true?"

"No, it's...yes. I've left."

"Why?"

Her friend not-so-subtly elbowed Isla in the side. Immediately, her face started feeling too hot, and she didn't know how to tear her eyes away from Isla's sinister smile of derision.

Come one, come all.

She felt vilified, commodified into some grotesque circus show for the sadistic, satisfied smiles of everyone else. Just as much of a spectacle as she was all those years ago.

It's happening again.

Look at them. Safe, and assured, and happy. It was revolting. They didn't understand an ounce of what she went through, they never would. 

And all anyone wants to know is...

After today they would go home to their other friends and family and smugly recount the battered, fragile mess they ran into that afternoon, sick with glee as they described the aimless circles she wore into the floors, a pathetic husk of the agent she once was.

...how did it end?

"What? It's one thing to leave one agency. But then two, and now three? It's enough to make people t-"

Her friend finally dragged Isla away, scolding under her breath. Isla rolled her eyes as she was taken away, calling out in a peeved voice. "Enjoy your orange juice!"

Y/N stared blankly after her, trying to put two and two together until she glanced down at the weathered carton of orange juice she was holding. Orange juice with pulp, the kind she had swiped up so many times before, half-distracted while trying to stop Lockwood from running them broke over the many little treats lining the aisles.

She stares at the carton and decides that she just might spend the rest of her life reeling from the loss of his undeniable warmth.

As luck would have it, they did meet again, though it was in less than favourable circumstances.

"You're still working on the case?"

She spun around from where she had been fiddling with the lock to Bickerstaff's mansion. She shielded her eyes from the flashlight aggressively assaulting her retinas, until a harsher version of the Lockwood she remembered came into view.

He held out his flashlight until she reluctantly accepted it, holding it in place while he pulled out that same pair of wire cutters. She sighed, deciding it would be impolite to give him the silent treatment when he was going through all this effort. 

"I freelance now."

"No, I mean, you're working on the case..." With a final loud crack, the chain slithered down the door, now useless. "...alone?"

He tentatively pushed the door open while she exaggeratedly strapped on her goggles with more than a little attitude, making a big show of avoiding his gaze. It was almost enough to make him crack a smile.

"Big talk from someone who nearly got himself killed by Winkman."

If he noticed the sour resentment hidden in his voice, he didn't let on.

"Oh. You heard."

"Of course I heard. Where the hell was Lucy? Or George? Did you even tell them where you were?"

"For the record, I never told you where I was all the time."

"Oh please, you'd just awkwardly stand around all guilty until I forced you to spit it out."

He groaned. "Can't we save this for later?"

"Later? In case it's slipped your mind, I'm not going home with you after tonight." She pulled out her small cloth bag of iron filings, shouldering past Lockwood. "I'm conducting my psychical investigation myself."

"You're being stubborn."

She ripped the goggles off her head painfully, hurling them straight at Lockwood. "So what if I am? I've been biding my time for the past month, closing one eye as I watched you make the worst choices possible. When is it going to be my turn to make bad decisions? I'm done making allowances for you, Lockwood. I'm...exhausted."

She turned away, walking straight into the mansion, blind as a bat. Too blind to see what was right in front of her.

"Wait. Y/N, please, don't - NO!"

His scream echoed like a warning through the rafters. Her dying wish was finally realised. Never again would she have to go through anything like that.

After a short call from Inspector Barnes, Lucy and George hurried down to the hospital with their hearts in their throats, terrified of what awaited them. They felt a rush of relief when they found him sitting outside one of the rooms, face blank and blanched, seemingly unharmed. But that same dread returned when they noticed the goggles he was weakly holding onto. Like he barely had the strength to hold on for much longer. No Source. No Y/N. 

Two weeks later at the funeral, he was standing at the podium, eyes glazed over while he read some media-friendly statement handed to him half a minute earlier. How it happened? Like walking through an icy waterfall. How was he alive? He didn't know. How it ended? The same way it began. He felt numb to the invasive camera flashes, save for an occasional stab of irritation. Even now, they salivated for any and every nugget of information. Would they never let her rest?

Come one, come all.

He was distantly aware that George and Lucy were somewhere in the front row, but at that moment he wished for nothing more than for her to be at his side, holding his hand and holding him up. It reminded him of the night before his parents' funeral when he stayed up all night wishing that Jessica would be there in the morning, ready with a hug to wash away this terrible dream. And yet, twelve years later, he stands there just as alone as he was the first time.

It's happening again.

Her last words echo hollowly inside her skull - not the ones at Bickerstaff's mansion, but from before she walked out of his life. They had got into some stupid fight about some stupid thing, and she had mentioned that all this was enough to make her want to leave, and he had seen red.

"Why? Because of Kipps? The bet?"

"Why don't you figure it out yourself since you're just so bloody brilliant, huh?"

And all anyone wants to know is...

It wasn't like her to be that angry. That was his doing. He had enraged her and pushed her to her very limits until she had finally snapped. Perhaps that was his punishment, a precursor to eternal damnation - living with this disfigured memory of his own doing.

...how did it end?

As he neared the end of his speech, he finally looked up from the script, and for a moment he thought his heart had stopped. There, at the very back of their hastily rearranged living room, was Y/N, or a translucent version of her, at least. It was nearly mid-morning, as was evident by her highly faded image, but he could still faintly make out what she was aggressively mouthing towards him. Tell them. Tell them the truth.

Too late; he's been frozen in fear long enough to imply he's finished his speech. After a light smattering of applause, foreign journalists and executives Y/N once worked with start coming up to him, shaking his hand, and giving him a reassuring pat on the back. All the while, Lockwood stares transfixed at the quickly disappearing shadow at the back of the room, ugly with rage. Coward, she yells with some invisible voice. Fucking coward.

He keeps her spirit in the walls of 35 Portland Row, perhaps because it's the only home either of them has ever known. Maybe one day he'll be strong enough to let her go, and maybe once he does, he'll hate himself for having even held on in the first place. But for now, he chooses to be selfish.

One last time.

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @midnight--raine @ahead-fullofdreams @mitskiswift99 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @houseoftwistedspirits @elenianag080 @mohinithoughts @avdiobliss @snoopyluver20 @mischivana @dangelnleif

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #anthony lockwood x reader #fanfic #anthony lockwood imagine #how did it end #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd

[yumianscreation]

Timothy and Cassandra Drake were twins, Janet and Jack didn’t like that. You see, the two wanted a daughter, not a son, So when a 5-year-old Tim came up to them and said he didn’t like being a boy with tears in his eyes, they were overjoyed, since that meant they now had two daughters and no sons. When the twins turned 7, Timothy, who was renamed Tina, and Cassandra would pretend there was only one of them, it worked since Tina wasn’t on any records, they had fun with it, and they told each other everything, making sure to teach the other what they knew, Cass had joined a ballet class, so she taught her sister, and Tina was in a computer club, so she made sure Cass know everything about it, each day, they would switch who went to school, Telling each other what they learned, they developed the same handwriting, so it couldn’t be told apart, they had the same signature as well. Tina was always the one who went to school for tests since she liked academic things more than Cass, and Cass went for field trips since she liked seeing new places more than Tina. They never invited friends over, to keep their secret, and their parents stopped traveling to raise the two until they turned 13 and could look after themselves. When the two grew older, Jack and Janet started selling Testosterone and Estergine, making sure it was available for their own daughter as well as other trans kids around Gotham, they sold it at fair prices. Tina had taken up stalking the local vigilantes, Cass following her when she went out, so when Robin was reported dead and Batman grew violent, the two had to do something, they made a plan, Tina would go to Bruce and force herself into the role of robin, and Cass would make her own identity, that way, there would be two of them to keep bruce in line. weeks before they did this, they signed up for self-defense classes and gymnastics, Their Ballet skills helped in their self-training. The two learned to read body language at a young age since they liked to watch people, and they found people’s surprised and startled faces funny, so they knew stealth, so they just needed to learn basic fighting moves and gain strength. When the time came, They put their plan in motion, Cass created her costume and named herself ‘Crow’, and Tina took up the Robin mantle, forcing Bruce to behave himself as to be a good role model to the two children. When their Parents' flight crashed, the two were panicking, since some taking them in would mean revealing that there were two of them, and so, Tina made them a fake uncle and all was well, they just claimed that the uncle was just like their parents, and hired a guy to play the role when the uncle was needed to be seen, and when they turned 16, they got themselves emancipated. At this point, the two had grown tired of pretending to be the same person, so Tina made herself some fake documents and made it so she was Cass’ cousin, and the fake uncle had been her dad, she got herself emancipated and all was done there, the two lived in their manor, Tina ran Drake industries and Cass worked part-time at a ballet studio, at this point, Tina and Cass switched Robin and Crow so it was as if Tina had been Crow the whole time and had just Followed Cass into the business, and bruce was none the wiser.

#batfam #batman #dc #tim drake #bruce wayne #writing concepts #writing ideas #cass cain #cassandra cain #trans tim drake #trans fem tim drake #Cass and Tim are twins #don't know where this came from #Cass is Robin #Tim is Crow #Tim's name is Tina

[simplyghosting]

Prayer request. Sister got pickpocketed overseas and all her cards got taken. 🙏

#ghost posts #she went on a trip with her friend this week #first time out of the country #and she can’t reach the bank to cancel her cards #prayer request #June 2 2023

[drysauce]

fuck this shit i'm NOT working this summer

#the initial plan was to work august september #but it turned out i'll be going to vienna at the beginning of september so i was planning to work for almost the whole august instead #so i messaged a buddy of mine who's been already working in a few shops #to ask which ones would be most eagar to hire me for a month #he didn't tell me and instead went 'lmao only for a month?' and it somehow pissed me off so much #i don't need money at the moment because i have a shit ton of savings so i was planning to work mostly so i wouldn't sit bored at home #but everyone around me seems to think that all people my age should definitely work for the whole summer #that at this age that's how ot should be because adults should work instead of staying at home for weeks #well fuck you all the same thing was going on when i said i wouldn't make a diving license ans that's why im already considered a #disappointment to society #i was grinding the schoolwork like crazy this year and ended up with maxed grades from the majority of the subject meaning i will most #definitely get a scholarship that is like 500-800zl a month for a year #which is FAR MORE than I'd make working in some clothes store for 2 months #i was working so hard at school i believe i deserve a break during holidays because guess what? IM TIRED #and a perspective of resigning from a trip with friends to tire myself more at work isn't amusing to me #'but your cousin didn't go on a vacation and is working this summer' #well during the schoolyear she and her girlfriend were making cosplays amd visiting places (good for them) so she's probably not as fed up #with everything and doesn't mind working because she doesn't feel that much of a need for a break #but i do and im so damn mad at everyone who tells me otherwise #fuck off i already worked my ass off for last 9 months to get that damn scholarship so these holidays im resting #next two semesters i'll tone down om schoolwork and getting 5s only and then work during summer but not this year #AGHH i hate it here

[horrorwebs]

fucking hell fucking hell is she gonna reject me? i want to let sth out for a second and didnt want to tell my psychologist until i have answers so. tags it is

#so. i told my friend i like her. i really really do you cant imagine how much. this was while i was away on a trip last week and we were #messaging.honestly i wanted to be brave enough to tell her in person but i tried already and i was tired of waiting for 'the perfect moment #i was tired of not doing anything ever and watching my life go by. so i drann a bit and told her. not bc i was a bit drunk thats just an #excuse. i was plenty conscious and still scared as fuck (so much that after i sent the message i took a lap around the building lol) #she said i should be scared first. then that she wasnt sure what to say. in her words 'more yes than no. but i dont know what to say' #understandable. she prob wasnt expecting it and its not amazing to have a conversation like that through text (despite the fact that our #relationship has always relied heavily on texting cause weve always stayed up talking. like from day 1) #anyway. she said that before we met she had a crush on me (i already knew this) and that she sometimes felt this way too wbut was scared i #didnt feel that way as well and didnt wanna risk anything so didnt do anything (granted. but she DID say plenty of ambiguous things + #told me i could sleep w her then um. slept on top of me. hugging. you know) #my friend said this was a good sign i was nervous and told her that i thought it was weird and she said her response was p good #and later she uploaded on her cf story a video that said a ring she shares w me is her 'married ring' so i think thats good?? #but also. we havent talked yet (hard to do in 15 min at school) and i have a bad fweling #i feel shes going to say sth like she likes me but doesnt want to risk what we have esp considering her other friends sometimes treat her #badly/exclude her and that shes worried if we fight we are going to lose our friendship + shes going to lose my friends as well #which is well. stupid of course. because i always want her in my life. i think she knows this. i want her to know this. #ever since we met i want her in my life and i cant stop thinking about her and how i miss her and her eyes and how she hugs me and GOD #THE OTHER DAY WHEN WE SAW EACH OTHER AFTER I WENT ON A WEEK LONG TRIP SHE FUCKIN. LIFTED ME OFF THE GROUND AND. CARRIED ME AROUND #HONESTLY IT WAS A BIT EMBARASSING THERE WERE LOTS OF PPL SRIUND AND IM A VERY PRIVATE PERSON BUT I WAS SO HAPPY !!!! #and idk i just dont want her to reject me. shes the first person i really like and i see myself together with. we have so much in common an #we understand each other and we are GOOD for each other. shes so good for my life and i want to believe i am as awell and god how i #want to kiss her and call her my girlfriend and just. agh #its exhausting liking someone huh #loveposting #spikeposting #if anyone has read this far omg hi thank you what do you think?

[aemondtragaryen-archived]

💭

#i need to rant so I’m going to do it in the tags #I went on spring break with a friend I made this past fall when I transferred to my current university #and we have known each other for quite a few months before we planned it and I thought it would be fun #but during the trip she was really mean to me #like making fun of me for anything being passive aggressive and just making me walk on egg shells the entire week #by the end I was gaslighting myself and just overall felt terrible #I saw her the week after we got back to get a purse I let her borrow but after that I did not see her at all #and she hasn't reached out to me #which is so weird bc before the trip we would hang out almost every day or every other day getting lunch together all the time etc #but I don't want to reach out to her at all but also im annoyed she isn't reaching out to me like I wasn't the one who was horrible #and the worst part is after the trip she was super nice again like right as we got off the train #and it is very clear she thinks everything is fine and nothing is wrong. that is to say she thinks what she did to me was not a problem #and it is so hard to be friends with her because how tf am I even supposed to be okay with her #but now I feel so lonely bc with my other friends I dont see them as much as I saw her so now I feel so alone and lonely #and I dont want to complain about this to my friend bc she heard enough about it already #but now I feel like im starting over bc I only have more casual friends now :(( #ugh I feel like shit but it really annoys me that she isn't reaching out. I dont even want to see her I just want to be like #no I cant see you blah blah blah #yes that is childish no I do not care! bye

[thursdayg1rl]

I think I’ve made some more friends ?

#one is a girl who moved to this school this week n she joined our form #and the other one is the girl who I was talking to on wednesday #I really want to be friends w the second one bc she was talking ab how her friends never want to meet up w her #and like. literally same lmao #she came to sit w me at lunch today #but I couldn’t really speak to her bc I was talking to the other girl #I got so annoyed at that one girl who I’ve have to hang out w #bc when this girl came to sit w us she literally did not speak to her at all #just went on her phone.. that’s so rude! #n I couldn’t really make conversation bc I was talking to the other girl 😐 #I hope I see her on tuesday bc we have a trip all day for team building or smth

[fingertipsmp3]

Thinking about her again (my ex friend who I had an unspoken tension with but we never dated because it was Unspoken and now she’s married to someone who seems insufferable and we haven’t spoken in almost 4 years)

#okay disclaimer i actually don’t know if her wife is insufferable. i’m just assuming based off fb posts #she’s one of those people who has to post Everything and i mean Everything which is like ‘here’s how many times i cried at our wedding’ #and ‘omg look at this funny note H left in my lunch’ (note is literally not funny) #it was just.. it was a whole thing. to this day i still don’t know if she ever thought about dating me or if she just befriended me #to befriend me. we were both new in town when we met; it was at a queer event and we’d both moved to town literally a week ago #and we hung out most of that first night and then she walked me home and then i thought she invited me out for coffee. but it turned out #to be a group thing and i ended up spending most of the time talking to this girl who turned out to be straight #but was trying to wingman for her friend who was not as pretty as her but was at least interesting #and H left before i did but then she invited me to go to a stand up for her because she had two tickets and she never let me pay #*with her not For her #for my ticket; and then i invited her to seattle because there was a bus trip so we went to seattle #and she paid for lunch and was like ‘you can pay for dinner’ but then we never got dinner because it would’ve caused us to miss the bus #and then i went to her house for the first time and we watched but i’m a cheerleader and then we went to her room to talk and that was when #one of us should’ve made a move. but neither of us did. and i got home to my dorm; confused #and found out i had a million missed calls from my friend who wanted to give me a bookmark she brought from korea #was that also the night we got the first snow and walked around in it at 2am and my roommate justifiably called me a crazy white girl? #probably. i know that did happen at some point and it was H i walked in the snow with #but anyway nothing ever happened. we even had the only one bed trope happen to us in dc and we still didn’t fuck #so i hope she and her wife are happy lol #personal

[keerysfreckles]

she's american — OP81 (smau)

pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!fem!reader

summary: oscar falls in love with his best friends sister

warnings: none!

a/n: landoscar podium this weekend i can feel it 🤞 (sos im too delulu rn)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 199,046 others

y/n_sargeant does my brother race in mclaren? no! was i in the mclaren garage all weekend? yes! oscarpiastri, landonorris

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user1 y/n feeding us with landoscar content once again 🙏🙏

mclaren come back anytime 🧡

y/n_sargeant idk how logan will feel about that 💔💔

user2 the mclaren it girl

user3 the caption im 😭😭

logansargent so this is where you were all weekend?!

y/n_sargeant well yes! 🤭

oscarpiastri lovely seeing you again y/n!

user4 lando's pose is so cute he's never beating the babygirl allegations

williamsracing come home we miss you 💔

y/n_sargeant i'll be back next weekend (per logans request)

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing and 203,189 others

y/n_sargeant hung out with the better williams driver this week 🐬🌺🐛☀️ alex_albon

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alex_albon I HAD A BLAST Y/N!!!!!

y/n_sargeant AHH ME TOO A!!!!!!!!!

user1 aw the matching snorkel pics 😭😭

user2 THE BETTER WILLIAMS DRIVER PLS SHE DID NOT HOLD BACK

logansargeant YOU HUNG OUT WITHOUT ME?????

y/n_sargeant not the first time baby bro 🤷🏼‍♀️

logansargeant y/n we're twins...

y/n_sargeant yeah but i'm older 😁

logansargeant BY TWO MINUTES

landonorris did you keep the sand dollar i gave you 🥺🥺🥺

y/n_sargeant of course 🤗

loganaargeant LANDO WENT TOO??????

user3 uh oh logans in his temper tantrum era

oscarpiastri petiton to go on more trips without logan

logansargeant i'm done.

user4 PLS OSCAR BEING ON Y/NS SIDE

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 329,177 others

y/n_sargeant i missed the mclaren garage 🧡 oscarpiastri

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user1 OSCAR CONTENT!!!!!!!!!

user2 notice how they're all just of oscar......

mclaren oh how we've missed you 🧡🧡

y/n_sargeant i've missed you more 🥹

user3 y/n can you boop oscars nose for me thanks 🤞🏻

oacarpiastri how many random photos do you even have of me

y/n_sargeant too many to count......

landonorris chat y/n couldn't stop following osc around all weekend it was adorable

y/n_sargeant LANDO SHUT YOUR MOUTH

user4 oscar looking at y/n in the first pic :((

oscarpiastri just posted !

liked by landonorris, y/n_sargeant and 570,324 others

oscarpiastri skipped the grid dinner to be with her ❤️

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user1 OSCAR SOFT LAUNCH ERA???????

user2 HE CARRIED HER HEELS FOR HER I REPEAT HE CARRIED HER HEELS FOR HER

landonorris do i know the lucky gal 🤨🤨

oscarpiastri maybe

user3 is that y/n??????? i thought she was blonde?????

user4 im being delulu and saying she dyed it 🤞

logansargeant oscar answer your phone.

alex_albon double date when 😁😁

mclaren the only acceptable reason to skip a grid dinner

oscarpiastri can i miss next weeks dinner as well..?

user5 y/n being in the likes but not the comments.. hmmmm

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 319,622 others

y/n_sargeant brunettes have more fun! 🤎🧸

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user1 oh girly is brave for posting this after oscars post last night

alex_albon we basically just switched hair colors 😁😁

mclaren orange looks better with brown hair anyway 😉

user2 oscar being in the likes and not the comments this time...........

user3 they're being too sneaky i fear

landonorris I'VE CONVERTED YOU 🙌🏽

y/n_sargeant i cannot confirm or deny

user4 OKAY POP OFF Y/N!!!!!

logansargeant i could've helped dye it ☹️

y/n_sagreant we both know you would've messed it up

imessage !

oacarpiastri just posted !

liked by y/n_sargeant, landonorris and 881,320 others

oscarpiastri girlfriend gave me permission to hard launch ❤️❤️ y/n_sargeant

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user1 THE FIRST PIC HELLO???????????

user2 im still not over the dinner post 😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/n_sargeant oh i look good in the second slide 🤩🤩

oscarpiastri ikr! 😘

mclaren best f1 couple out there 😍🧡

landonorris i can hear logan screaming from his hotel room.......

oscarpiastri oh god

y/n_sargeant even after we told him earlier.. 🤦🏻‍♀️

user3 one thing about oscar, he loves taking pics of y/n getting ready

user4 ABSOLUTE CUTIES UGH

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 500,439 others

y/n_sargeant i love my boyfriend ❤️ (logan pls ignore this thanks xx) oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri i love my girlfriend ❤️

user1 oh the hard launch is hard launching 😖

user2 Y/NOSCAR GIRLIES HAVENT BEEN DELUSIONAL !!!!!!!!!

logansargeant i'm happy for you y/n :) and i guess oscar 🙄

y/n_sargeant awwww logie bear 🥹🥹

logansargeant i thought we'd never bring that name up again

oscarpiastri hey logie bear 😁

user3 all the oscar content we're gonna get now omg..

user4 so is y/n gonna be in mclarens garage again this weekend???

user5 camermans gonna love zooming in on y/n right after showing oscar driving i just know it

landonorris so you take my best friend and my boyfriend????

y/n_sargeant yeah basically 🤗

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x female!reader #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri x fem reader #oscar piastri x female reader #oscar piastri x sargeant!reader #oscar piastri x sargeant reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fic #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #smau #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[upsidedownmvnson]

tell me you love me | steve harrington

warnings: fluff (warning lol) friends to lovers, idiots to lovers,

a/n: i actually really loved this <3 i hope you do too

tell me you love me vol 2

Steve Harrington had already tried twice in his life to confess his love for you.

The first time, you two were in the tenth grade and you had just accepted stupid Jack Warren's invitation to prom, so Steve didn't bother. That was back when he was settling into popularity anyway, so he got over it pretty quickly. He was dating Cathy Bartlett the next week.

The second time, Robin had made him pinky promise not to date you. She had held him down, sat on his back and twisted his arm until he pinky swore that he wouldn't do anything to destroy the delicate ecosystem of the friend group. There was already one awkward ex-situation in there.

But Robin was right, you were not like the girls he normally dated. If things went wrong he wouldn't be able to just sweep it under the rug, it could have painful ramifications for all his friends. Although... he didn't actually think it would go that bad. Steve would find his mind wandering on the idea often. He pictured the two of you in the kitchen, side by side cooking dinner and talking about your day. When he thought of you, it felt like home. It felt like somewhere he could build a house and live forever.

If he could only get the words out, he'd realize how quickly you'd accept him. He'd realize he wasn't the only one of you that was stupid in love.

You had been in love with Steve since you could remember. But never once thought he'd shared your interest, not with all the girls around him all the time. The way he shines in their attention and basks in their praise, it's enough to make you sure he's happy with how it is. Or he probably wouldn't have told you all about his date with Debbie Dabbenthorn, right?

Tonight, you, Nancy and Robin were at a party. Something Steve desperately tried to make not happen. But he was working, so there was no one to stop you girls from coaxing each other into drink after drink, which you always did. The three of you always drank too much, and Steve always got stuck trying to coral you and Robin into his car.

At the party, Nancy was handing you another red cup filled to the brim, sloshing over the side and coating your fingers. You hadn't noticed.

"I love when we ditch the boys," Nancy said, smiling as she sipped out of her own solo cup. "It's so fun!"

"Same," Robin said, slinging her arm around Nancy's shoulers, making the two of them sway and laugh. They caught their balance and cheered drinks. "Hey, help me find the bathroom!"

It wasn't hard to find, but it was hard for all three of you to get there without knocking into each other, but it didn't matter. The three of you giggled the whole way, laughing too hard over barely anything. Enjoying the simple joy of being with your friends on a party.

The line for the bathroom was short, only a few people deep. Nancy was grilling Robin on her love life while Robin evaded every question with a vague answer, soon, she turned it onto you, focusing Nancy on the other singler girl in the group.

"Do you not think anyone is cute at least?" Nancy said, not quite believing you when you say you didn't have a crush on anyone at the moment. You shrugged, trying to avoid admitting that it was her ex boyfriend that really turned your head. Robin chuckled, and slid into the bathroom.

You started sipping your drink when Nancy asked, "Not even Steve?" and you nearly choked, but you coughed once and composed yourself. You stared at her, confused as to why she would bring him up.

"You don't have to say anything," she said, and you looked into your cup, noting that you'd need a replacement after this trip. "But it would be okay with me."

Robin opened the bathroom door again, reassembling the trio be throwing her arms around both of your shoulders. "New drinks!" she cheered, steering you all in the direction of the kitchen.

"Drink up," Nancy giggled, "and then let's dance!"

So that's what you did, you guys drank and danced and had a great time. Until Jonathan came to pick up Nancy. That's when you saw that it was after nine, so Steve should've been on the way to come collect you and Robin from your drunken outing. You told Robin again how nice it was for Steve to come get you.

"But c'mon, you love him right?" Robin asked, laughing at your shock.

"I do not love him," you argued, but you did. Robin shrugged, but didn't look convinced. "He just is beautiful, that's all."

"Nah," she said, brushing off the idea with a wave of her hand. "You just love him."

"Do not," you mumbled. But Robin already leaned the other way when Vicki walked up to talk to her. You leaned further into the couch, the ugly thing was very comfortable. Steve should be there any minute.

"Hey," Robin whispered, "Vicki invited me to go with her friends to the lake... Are you gunna be okay here? You're not too drunk are you? Because if you think you can't stay awake, I'll stay of course..."

"Robin, go! I'll be fine for like two minutes..." you slurred, you were pretty drunk but Steve really was going to be there any second.

"Okay!" she didn't have to be told twice before she was scrambling after Vicki in her love-drunk haze. Or maybe just regular drunk, but Robin was feeling giddy anyway.

Steve was running behind because he lost the address that Robin had given him. She'd just ripped off a corner of a piece of paper, and Steve had lost it at some point in his shift. When he finally found the place he was thirty minutes behind.

When he got inside you were curled up on the couch alone, snoozing while some couple made out next to you in the spot Robin had vacated. He smiled when he saw you, and took a knee next to you, trying to wake you up nicely. He stroked your cheek, and tucked some hair behind ear, making you stir softly in your slumber.

"Time to get up," Steve said, "Where's Robin?"

"Went with Vicki," you whispered, rubbing your eyes, smudging whatever makeup wasn't already ruined from the dancing.

"Well, how mean of her to leave you here all alone," he said, running his thumb along your cheek again. "Can't trust you guys alone now though, she did leave you to fall asleep at a house party. That's like really bad, I'm mad at her."

You made a soft noise in response, his stern voice was, not so stern. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful he was. Leaning close to you, rubbing your cheek, hair falling perfectly on his forehead and you just wanted to reach up and brush it away like he did. But your hands were wedged under your head, and you were afraid that if you stirred even an inch, he would leave, and this moment would be over.

"Guess you'll just have to make sure you come with us next time," you whispered, eyes bloodshot and glossy from all the alcohol. He thought you were the most beautiful girl in the room. The party was still raging around him, and he easily could've found a place within the girls, but he was content in this moment with you. Your eyes started feeling heavy, and you couldn't stop them from constantly fluttering shut.

“C'mon let me help you up babe,” Steve said, aiding your drunk figure. The nickname made your stomach flip. You were dead weight, giggling as he took care of you and grabbed your things and still found the patience to be kind to you, musing like he was interested in all your drunk babble.

“You're just so pretty, Stevie, it's stupid,” you cooed, finding a place beside him with his arms around you for balance as he lead you, slowly, to his car.

"D-Don't say that stuff," Steve said, voice cracking at the beginning. You were drunk, and it was dark, but you still noticed the blush on Steve's cheeks, and you smiled.

He opened the door for you, and you commented, "so romantic," while holding your hand over your heart, and Steve's heart raced. He went around the trunk of his car to get another second of fresh air, if you saw him in the light you were sure to see the heat he felt in his neck and cheeks. You were flirting with him, and he couldn't contain his excitement every time you complimented him, looking up at him with those beautiful eyes.

The entire trip was like that. From the moment he was in the car you were just a loose cannon of compliments and praises. This combination of him sober and you drunk has never happened while alone before. Were you this flirty with him when he was drunk too?

The answer was yes. The real reason Nancy knew you really wanted Steve was because whenever you two are drunk and together you look like you're in love... because you are. Holding hands, head on shoulder, legs across laps, big bright smiles that made everyone think you were truly, madly, deeply in love. Everything that's just a little too friendly, but never crossing that silly little line that kept you both under the umbrella of just friends.

You were a delight in his passenger seat. He only wished you spoke like this when you were sober, because then maybe he'd know for sure you love him too.

"Hey Steve?" you asked, voice coming out as almost a purr in your sleepy state. Steve's heart melted. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yeah," he answered, clearing his throat and moving his hand over to your lap, intertwining your fingers. Your hands were cold to the touch, but all you felt was the comforting warmth of him. You were both smiling, goofy grins to match the butterflies in your stomach. "You can hold my hand whenever you like."

You made another happy hum, but said nothing else. The ride was short. No words exchanged, just the quiet songs on the radio, turned low to let you drift off in the passenger seat.

When you got to his house, he parked the car, looking at you. He didn't want to wake you. And he didn't want to let go of your hand. Maybe he should just stay in the car all night.

Of course he didn't do that. Steve weaseled his way out of your grip, not bothering to hide how pleased he was that you whined at the loss of his touch. he helped you out of the car, encouraging you to climb on his back for "an express ride to the VIP bathroom," and he delivered, carrying you, all dead weight and giggling, to the bathroom where he left you to clean up. You put on the clothes he delivered, Plaid pajama pants and a big grey shirt. Well, you put the shirt on, the pajama pants were thrown into the tub, because you couldn't be forced to wear pants.

"Steeeeeve," you slurred, leaving the bathroom, giggling and bumping into the doorframe.

Steve was standing in the doorway to his room, wearing only blue plaid pj pants. His torso on glorious display, while he stood frozen at the sight of you. You stretched your arms over your head, and the shirt rose, exposing your panties to him. He nearly choked looking at you.

"Can I sleep in your room?" you asked, smiling at the effect you had on him. "Look how cute I am," you said, turning around and lifting the shirt while bending over slightly, giving him a perfect view of your ass, with the panties laying deliciously over your cheeks.

"Jesus," he muttered, unable to look away but trying to force himself to. He shouldn't be sneaking a peak while you were this drunk, but in his defence you were the one showing him. "Come to bed, just put your shirt down."

"It's your shirt," you teased, obeying him anyway. You danced behind him into the room, and crawled into bed. It smelled so good, it smelled like him. You could've stayed by Steve's side under these blankets forever.

You lay facing Steve, in his overly big, overly comfortable bed, too tired and drunk to keep your eyes open, but you still try. Steve smiles at your determination to stay awake, he watches your eyes blink quickly, trying to shake the sleep away.

You want to reach over and intertwine your hands, you don’t. He wants to reach out and brush the hair off your forehead and behind your ear, he doesn’t.

“Are we in love, Steve?”

The sharpness of your question cuts him, wounding him in a way he didn’t know was possible. He wanted to speak, but there were no words. No charismatic come back, and no way to avoid the lingering question in the air. Steve holds his tears back. He really did love you.

When your eyes peak open, he’s nodding. His eyes filled with tears that he refuses to let you see, but you see. "Yeah, I think so."

“Why is it so sad?”

“Because we're best friends," he said, "and I can't lose you."

"Tell me you love me," you whispered, silly mood replaced with a tight feeling in your throat, like you were going to cry. But you held it back.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too."

He wanted to cry. He wanted to kiss you. But instead, he just sighed, and found your hand under the sheets, and held it tightly. He was frozen. This was his dream come true, so why did it feel like a nightmare? Like you were right there, but he couldn't have you. Like he was doomed to stay in love with you, and never actually get to be with you.

“I will still love you in the morning whether I say it or not, Stevie.” Your eyes finally started winning the battle, and they stayed closed more than they stayed open, too heavy too fight.

"I know babe," he said, watching as you breathing changed and your eyes didn't open again. "I will too."

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines

[rafesaddiction]

It's still not cheating when he's your best friend – Rafe Cameron x Reader (Part 2)

See here for part 1

Summary: You're excited to see your favorite band live. But a fight with your boyfriend threatens to cancel the trip, until someone you don’t expect to see, saves the day: your best friend Rafe Cameron.

Concept: best friend, only nice to her

Warnings: mdni! – smut, fingering, public, (kinda) dubcon, cheating (reader cheats on boyfriend), hints at a toxic relationship, name calling (reader is called slut), protective!rafe

Word count: 3.1k

a/n The past weeks have been really hard for me due to health issues. But I've finally been able to write again. I had fun writing this and I hope you won’t be disappointed reading it. Please let me know your thoughts.

Taglist @dream-pink @dope-trope-105 @rafeinterlude @baby19sthings @yootvi @aaronhotchswife @lilo7sworld

He almost ruined it. For months, you had been looking forward to seeing one of your favorite bands at the beach festival. The day before the concert, your boyfriend told you he didn't want to go and he didn't want you to go either. You had a fight that started over something stupid and ended with him accusing you that you just wanted to go to the festival so you could run around naked and fool around with guys, like the slut you were. You cried when he stormed out and shut your dorm room’s door with a bang. You cried all night.

Your boyfriend was supposed to be the driver. And now on top of all the personal pain you were feeling, you had to explain to your friends that you no longer had a ride to the festival. Neither you nor one of your friends owned a car. You tried to get your parents' car, but they needed it themselves. In the group chat you discussed all kinds of possibilities, until one of your friends wrote that he had organized a car. Everyone cheered at that, and even you, despite of all those tears that kept running down your face, were relieved that you and your friends could make the trip. You not only wanted to see the band play, more important to you was to get out with your friend and forget about the argument you and your boyfriend had.

Your friend also mentioned that the car's owner would join us to the festival, to which everyone naturally agreed and was excited. You even promised to bake cookies for the mysterious hero.

But you didn’t expect it to be him. You could have guessed because that friend also went to high school with you and they had been friends then. Still, it was kind of a shock and you froze when you saw a familiar car on the parking lot next to the dorms. The Cameron family SUV.

You hadn't talked to him since that one night. That one night that should have never happened. That one night that had been the best night of your life. That one night when you had had the best sex of your life with your best friend, Rafe Cameron.

Rafe wasn't much of a texter, but he had texted you. You had written six different replies and never sent one. You had wanted to write him or call him several times. Like last night when your boyfriend had made you cry again. Suddenly you were very aware of how you must look. Your eyes all puffy from the crying.

Rafe was at the back of the car, loading bags into the trunk with the friend who had invited him to this trip.

He hadn't seen you yet, his back was turned towards you, and you were glad about it, because you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to feel. So you were more than relieved when one of your friends arrived shortly after you, pulled you in a hug and decided that you two could already get into the car which was much cooler than standing around in the burning sun, while you could leave it to the guys to load your stuff into the car.

You sat in the middle of the backseat, your friend to your right. She started chatting right away and you felt somewhat relieved that she didn't comment on your boyfriend's absence nor your puffy eyes. Shortly after, the rest of your group arrived, you were six altogether, and luckily the SUV was really comfortable – more comfortable than your boyfriend's old minivan.

Rafe got into the driver's seat, and for a moment, he looked at you through the rearview mirror, before you turned your attention to your friend, as you felt your heart skipping a beat at that moment. You were unsure whether you saw a smile flash over his face, and you didn't dare to look again to check, afraid your face might reveal too much of your inner turmoil.

Though the drive took several hours, time flew by quickly. You had been right. It was good being with your friends and having fun. Everyone was in a good mood, the music was good, there was lively chatting and laughter, there was drinking and snacking, and even stupid car games were played. You might have been a little quieter than usual, but no one seemed to notice – no one except Rafe, who again and again looked at you through the mirror, but never directly spoke to you.

The parking lot of the festival site was already quite full, but Rafe managed to find a good spot for the car. When you got out of the car, you stretched your arms and felt the sun on your skin. It was a very hot day and the car had been nicely air-conditioned. Since it was so hot and the festival was on the beach anyway, your friends and you decided to just wear your bathing suits. You got out of your jeans shorts and shirt, as you were wearing your bikini underneath. You saw Rafe take off his shirt, and one of your guy friends commented that he should put it back on as it would make them all look like total wimps compared to him. There was laughter and Rafe smirked as he casually flexed his chest muscles. It was true. Rafe did look fitter than most guys. It wasn't too much muscles, but he was big and looked strong. Sometimes you thought he looked too good to be real, like a statue of some Greek god… Rafe had caught you staring at him and you quickly averted your gaze, feeling heat crawling to your face.

Since everyone was hungry, your friends and you decided to get some pizza and drinks, and after that more drinks. Everyone was relaxed and had a good time. You smiled a lot – except when you looked at your phone and saw the notifications. Your boyfriend had sent you several texts and voice mails. You didn't open them, you had already seen in the preview window what those texts were about. Obviously he hadn't calmed down. If anything he was even more angry, even more hurtful in his messages.

When looking at the phone, you also saw the time. The band you wanted to see was about to play soon. You asked your friends to go with you closer to the stage, but no one really wanted to move. They said you could hear the music perfectly well from their current spot, besides the booze was here. To that everyone cheered and raised their cups. Everyone but Rafe.

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don't have to. You can stay here, enjoy yourself. I'll just go on my own.”

“Quit that bullshit,” he said and came closer, he had put his cup away. “I'm going with you. So you won't get lost in the crowd. Besides, I know how much you want to see your third favorite band live.”

“You remember,” you gazed up at him, who stood now directly in front of you. You had to shield your eyes since the sun was shining so brightly, but you could definitely see a smile on his lips.

“Of course, I remember,” he said in a low voice, almost whispering and you couldn't help it, you gasped for air.

The smile on his lips turned into a smirk as he continued, “How could I ever forget you dancing to that one song for like all of junior year, hm? You're gonna do that dance again? Wouldn't wanna miss that.”

And he started moving his hips and his arms in a weird clumsy rhythm, imitating what was supposed to be you dancing. It looked ridiculous and you had to laugh.

You punched his shoulder. “Stop that. That's not how I dance.”

He kept on moving in that awkward way and you tried hard to stop laughing – suddenly feeling lighter and more relaxed than you had in weeks – since that night.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and pushed out your lips, pouting, but couldn't fight the giggles, as Rafe tried some elaborate pirouette which caused him to stumble, but he stopped, directly in front of you. All of a sudden he was calm and there was something so soft in his features which you knew he rarely ever showed anyone.

“Let's go,” it was almost a whisper, then he added in a louder voice. “We don't want to miss that song and that dance.”

You punched his chest, your hand almost hurting as it hit the hard muscle – and felt his hot skin. But you let him take your hand and lead you from the group of your friends who were engrossed in some conversation of their own. His strong hand holding yours felt good, it felt right. Rafe was your best friend. He was the one you trusted most, he was the one who made you laugh, no matter what.

Rafe walked towards the stage and tugged you along with him. When there were more and more people around, he pulled you close to his body. Still holding one of your hands, his palm touched your back as he walked behind you, keeping you very close. He made sure you didn't get lost in the crowd. His body shielded you from anyone bumping into you or spilling their drinks on you.

The place got more and more crowded and he had to slow down. You turned your head to look at him.

“This is okay,” you said.

Rafe frowned as he looked at you. “No, it's not. We're going to the front row.”

“No, Rafe, this is totally okay. I can see enough from here.”

His frown deepened. “No, you can't. You're too tiny.”

At that comment you frowned. “I’m not tiny. You're just a giant,” you said and wanted to punch him with your free hand, but you didn't have enough space to move your arm, so you just ended up placing your palm on his chest. Feeling his hard muscle, feeling his hot skin, and his heart beating. He placed his hand on yours and your breathing hitched.

Rafe held you even tighter to his body as he proceeded to walk to the stage. His strong arms held you, protected you. And despite all these people around you, you only felt him, his presence, his closeness, all around you. Your skin tingled where it touched his, and that tingling grew stronger and became something else. Something that went so much deeper. And you felt a too familiar pulsing in your core.

Some people complained and pushed and shoved, but one look at Rafe’s face and stature and they made room for you and him. He really managed to secure a spot in the front row for you, right in the middle and you got the perfect view of the stage, standing directly behind the first barrier. Only a few feet of empty space separated you from the stage. Rafe was standing directly behind you, his hands to both sides of you, resting on the rail, his arms caging you in – shielding you.

You wanted to turn and thank him, but in that moment the band entered the stage and started playing their first song. You were captivated by their performance and the great atmosphere their music created. There was cheering, singing, dancing all around you. People were pushing and shoving, but you only felt a fraction of that as Rafe's body pressed closer to yours. He was shielding you from all the crowd's wilder movements, while you could enjoy being part of this experience safely.

You even danced a bit, your back rubbing against Rafe's front. When you craned your neck to look back at him, you saw him grin. And you felt a grin on your own face.

The set list was great too. They played all your favorite songs and the lead singer managed to put some kind of spell on the audience when they played a couple of slower songs. Or that spell was just on you, and not caused by the singer, but by something or someone else.

You leaned back a little, your head resting against Rafe's broad chest, feeling his heart beat. You closed your eyes and your hips swayed to the slow rhythm of the song. Your skin touched his skin. And you didn't mind the thin film of sweat covering his body from the heat of the bright sun and the crowded place. You smelled his scent so intensely, it made you almost forget where you were. It just made you feel.

Your eyes opened, your upper body leaned forward, resting your arms on the barrier. You watched the singer putting all his emotions into each and every note. Goosebumps crawled over your skin. But it wasn't from the singer's raspy voice. Rafe's hand touched your hip. Your back arched a little as your butt was pushed back. You gasped. Rafe's hand rubbed over your butt cheek, you felt the rough palm, the long fingers, the cool metal of his ring on your skin. The touch was light, too light, too gentle, too soft. Your mouth opened, but all sounds were drowned by the music and the noise of the people.

His fingertips, just his fingertips, tenderly touched the back of your thigh, moved to the inside of your leg. They moved up and one finger rubbed over the fabric of your bikini bottoms. It was like scratching and you flinched, but that didn't make him withdraw his hand. Instead, the finger pushed harder, pushed to part your folds, pushed to tease you, while the layer of clothes still was between you and his digit.

You felt heat rushing through your body, neither caused by the sun nor by the heat of the people moving around you. You did not perceive any of them. You just felt him, while your eyes were directed at the band on stage performing their emotional song.

Rafe’s finger moved along your slit with pressure. Through your bikini panties his fingertip was able to find your most sensitive spot at once and he began teasing it mercilessly. No one heard it, but you were sure, Rafe felt that you were moaning. You felt a growing need that threatened to take over all your senses. As if he knew that, felt that, perceived that, Rafe pushed the fabric aside – tantalizingly slow. And his fingers found you wet and yearning for his touch. A mewling sound escaped your lips as a finger pushed inside you. You felt your walls clench around the digit. And you felt Rafe tense behind you and you were sure you heard a groan.

The song had changed, you only now realized, its rhythm was faster, wilder. And so was Rafe's touch. His finger thrust into you, stretching your tightness, pushing deep, making you squirm. Your hands gripping the metal of the barrier for support. Your legs started shaking as Rafe added a second finger and began fucking you with his digits. He curled them inside you and your head went back to your neck as you moaned shamelessly. He pulled his fingers out completely, just to push them into you even deeper. Again and again.

The song grew louder, harder, fiercer – and so did his finger-fucking you. Your body trembled, your voice was hoarse and you were whining now. He pushed you further and further, closer and closer to the edge.

Then, all of a sudden, he leaned over you – maybe he was pushed by the crowd jumping about, maybe he needed to feel you closer too – and you could feel his hardness press against your back. You pressed your eyes shut as your climax hit you, hit you hard. The wave swept you away and carried you to another place, where all you did was feel, feel this, feel him.

His fingers fucked you through your orgasm. He had wrapped his arm around you, was holding you close to his body, and thus was also keeping you from falling, since your legs were shaking and you feared you no longer could trust them to support you.

Slowly he pulled his fingers out. And even though you still felt echoes of your high, this also left a feeling of emptiness inside you. A longing that was always there if he wasn't inside you.

You felt his breath close to your ear and heard him say something, but the music drowned his words. You turned your head, looking at him with hooded eyes and saw him lick his fingers.

The rest of the concert felt like in a haze. Rafe kept his arm around you, holding you close, while you watched the band play but could only listen to his heart beat, as your body was still shivering.

When the show ended, people started moving and Rafe took a step back to give you room to turn around to him.

“Thirsty?” he asked you, and you just nodded, not trusting your voice.

His hand on your back, Rafe guided you through the crowd back to your friends, and you had to admit to yourself that you wouldn't have found them on your own.

Rafe ordered something to drink for you at the nearby bar while you stood with your friends. One of them commented that you were glowing and that you looked totally blissed out. You touched your cheek and felt the heat, and felt that smile on your face. She asked if the show had been that good and you replied that it had been amazing. Your voice was hoarse and she suspected it was from you singing along with the band so loudly all the time. You didn't comment on that, just felt another wave of heat going through your body. As you turned, your eyes met Rafe's. A little smirk on his lips as he put a cup into your hand and took a swig out of his own.

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[pathologicalreid]

the archer | S.R.

in which a trip to your hometown leads to an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angst

content warnings: normal cm violence/death. mentions of sexual assault and physical assault. mentions of miscarriage and dv. arson/fires. please take care of yourself while reading <3.

word count: 5.96k

a/n: if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, the US hotline is 800-799-7233. be well and be safe.

can you see right through me?

Emily had called you into her office fifteen minutes before the briefing began to let you know that the case was in your hometown. “There are some things that may come to light in a small town, and I wanted to let you know that you can stay behind if you need to,” she told you, having shut the blinds to her office to give you the most privacy she could.

Giving it a moment, you thought about it before you met her eyes, “if someone tries to say something, I’d rather be there to clear things up than let them say anything.” You wiped your clammy palms on your plants before standing up, “and besides, who better to work on victimology than someone who knows the town.”

You stepped out of the office, holding the door open for Emily before the two of you made your way to the roundtable room.

The two victims had been killed a week apart, they were both women who you had gone to school with. The first was in your graduating class, Victoria Reynolds, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The second was a year ahead of you, Melanie Baylor, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The team had been called in by the lead detective on the case, Charlie Platten, and he had likely made the call without telling the police chief.

It had already been three days since the second body was recovered, and Emily didn’t want to waste any more time. You left the roundtable room to grab your go-bag, smiling when you felt a familiar presence next to you. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk while you reached underneath it for your bag.

Stepping in front of him, you looked up at him, “I’m okay, Spence.” You plopped your go bag on top of your desk, “it’ll be okay,” you whisper.

“And if at any point it’s not,” he prompted, placing a hand on your waist.

You simpered up at him, “You’ll be the first person I go to, love.”

He reached over and grabbed your bag off of your desk, carrying it to where the rest of the team is waiting for the elevator. “I’ll admit, I am interested in seeing your hometown,” he told you, letting you step into the elevator before him.

“Yeah, Y/N, maybe you can show us some of your old haunts once we solve the case,” Luke chimed in from the back of the elevator.

Laughing breathily, you turned your head to face Luke, “Do I really strike you as the kind of person to have ‘old haunts’, Alvez?”

A few of your team members chuckle. You faced forward, wondering how long it would be before one of them saw through you. When working with profilers, it was always a risk.

'cause all of my enemies started out friends

Emily sent you and Luke to the latest crime scene while she and Spencer set up at the precinct. JJ and Matt met with the latest victim's family while Tara and Rossi met with the medical examiner. Your stomach felt unsettled as soon as the plane landed, you had a bad feeling about this case. Spencer tried to ask you what was going on with you, but you just brushed him off.

You would tell him. After this case was over and you went home, you would tell Spencer everything. He deserved that.

“Did you know her?” Luke asked, using a gloved hand to inspect a shard of glass he found on the concrete.

Blinking rapidly, you snapped out of your stupor, “Melanie? Yeah, she was a year ahead of me in school. I graduated with Victoria though.” You used the toe of your boot to clear some dirt off of what looked like some sort of plaque. “I wasn’t all that close with either of them, but in a town this small, you kind of know everyone,” you explained.

Standing back up and walking back over to Luke, you looked at the building, it’s an abandoned factory on the edge of town. “Is there any significance to this building?”

“It was a functioning factory in the eighties,” you explained, looking at the vines growing up the side of it. “This business was the entire economy of the town, when the factory went down, so did the town.”

Luke nodded, taking a step back and eyeing the entire decrepit building. “And the church? Where the first body was found.”

You pursed your lips, “Only church in town, I was baptized there, when it burned down people had nowhere else to go, so they stopped believing.”

“How did the fire start?” He asked, turning the knob on the factory door, and looking surprised when it opened.

You shrugged, “lightning strike, I thought. I wasn’t much of a believer, especially once my mom died.”

Alvez nodded in understanding, “Would you say that both of these locations are important to the town and its history?”

Nodding, you followed Luke back to the SUV, leaning back in the passenger seat as you mentally prepared yourself for the scene your arrival at the precinct was about to cause.

When you got there, you immediately spotted the police chief ripping the lead detective, Charlie, a new one outside the front door. He saw you and did a double take, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“Sir, we’re members of the BAU, our-“ Luke started explaining, obviously confused at the chief’s combative nature.

He held up a hand, “I wasn’t talking to you, agent.” Turning to face you, “You don’t show your face at home, leaving in the middle of the night ten years ago and now you’re what? A big bad FBI agent?”

You stiffened, pushing your shoulders back as you faced him. Stand tall, stay strong. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, and the FBI is only big and bad to the people who deserve it, Frank.”

The man in front of you scoffed, “I’m talking to your supervisor, you’re not working on this case.” He pushes past you, causing you to stumble back against the wall.

“What was that about? Who was that guy?” Luke asked, looking at you as you got your bearings back before walking into the precinct.

Bowing your head, you grumbled, “You just met my father.” At that moment, you were glad to be facing away from him, because you weren’t sure you could face any of it.

You’re still the newest member of the BAU, technically being a profiler but Emily pulled you in to help with public communications, since the old unit chief had been handling it along with Garcia, Emily did the same. When Spencer went to prison, she found she needed extra help, so you were snagged from your cozy office in sex crimes and sent to the BAU.

You fit in well with everyone, and you never really felt the need to prove yourself. Even taking the initiative to write letters to Spencer, because you didn’t want to be a stranger to him when he came back. So, when you met face-to-face last year, he thanked you. When you kissed him eight months ago, you both agreed to move slowly.

Seven months ago, he showed up at your door and told you he loved you.

Emily gave you an understanding look when she saw you walk into the police station, she, of course, knew everything about your situation.

“We don’t have enough for any sort of geographic profile yet,” Spencer said, standing in front of a whiteboard with a map over it, along with pictures of the two victims. He turned as soon as he saw you, smiling in a silent greeting. You winked in response, sitting down in the office chair next to him.

Luke stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whiteboard, “What do you mean that was your father? Why wouldn’t you say that your dad was the chief of police here?”

You shrugged, leaning back in the chair, “I may share DNA with the man, but I haven’t seen Frank Burris since I was twenty years old.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? Did she tell you?” Luke asked Spencer, who was still looking at the whiteboard, entirely unbothered.

“What did you find at the crime scene?” Emily asked, effectively ending Luke’s questioning. You had no idea if she had heard any of the previous conversation, but either way, you were grateful for the change in subject.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and faced her, “The dump sites are all places that are former symbols of the town, maybe the unsub wants to further desecrate these locations.” Emily nodded, prompting you to continue. “These kills are angry, the overkill and sexual assault definitely lean toward a male offender, I think the unsub is angry,” you said.

“Angry that his town is no longer what it once was,” Spencer suggested, taking his eyes off the whiteboard. “Are there any other locations that could fit that general description?”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Probably, I haven’t been here in ten years, it might help to talk to a local. Charlie could probably help.”

“Charlie can’t help with anything; the chief took him off the case. It belongs to me now,” a voice behind you said. Immediately, you straightened up in your chair, earning a strange look from Spencer. “Y/N, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the male voice said.

Swallowing thickly, you turned and faced him, “I wish I could say the same, Johnny.” You stood up, needing as much ground as you could get. “Do you know any places that would fit the description? Somewhere that used to be a symbol in the down, but is abandoned now?”

“The school burnt down about eight days ago, but you’d know that if you gave a damn about us,” he said indignantly, looking down at you.

You felt Spencer stand behind you, “do you have some kind of problem?”

Johnny eyed your boyfriend and you hoped he didn’t catch on to your relationship, “If I’m being totally honest, I’m not completely comfortable working with Y/N.”

“Our team was called in to help solve these murders and Agent Y/L/N is a part of that team,” Emily defended you. “If you have a problem, I suggest you suck it up until this case is solved.”

Angrily, Johnny stalked off. You turned around and grabbed a file off of the desk, glancing over at Emily and silently thanking her.

help me hold on to you

Later in your shared hotel room, Spencer looked at you curiously, “Was he an ex-boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes and laid back on the bed, it wasn’t the worst bed you’ve slept in since joining the BAU, but it certainly wasn’t going to be winning any awards any time soon. “Don’t be jealous, Spence, it’s unbecoming," you deflected.

Spencer climbed on top of the bed and kissed your forehead, “I’m not jealous, I’m concerned.”

That made your heart clench, you sat up in the bed and cupped his face with your hands, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” You studied his face, the small crease in his forehead that told you he was overthinking the situation made you sigh. Gently, you leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “If I think you need to be concerned, I’ll tell you,” you whispered, allowing him to gather you in his arms.

“Okay, angel,” he whispered back.

You sighed and laid back against the pillows, “I have a bad feeling about this case,” you told him softly. Spencer doesn’t believe in intuition the way you do, but he’d never discredit your feelings.

He reached over and swept your hair behind your ear, “Me too.”

Pulling away from him, you looked at him curiously, “Why?”

He shrugged, “Both of them look like you. You’re the same age as them.” The victims, he was saying the victims were too similar to you for his own comfort. You hadn’t really given it much thought. If you start comparing yourself to the victims, you’d freeze up. That was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you comforted, curling up next to him.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey

The call came at five in the morning, only four hours after you had gone to sleep. Splitting up into two SUVs, half of you went to the precinct while the other half of you went to the crime scene.

“Katherine Meadows was dumped in front of the school,” Emily said, leading you, Tara, and Rossi into the precinct. You were still pulling your blazer on over your tank top, having been given approximately five minutes between waking up and getting out the door.

You stopped in your tracks; your mouth went dry. You knew of the other victims, but you were friends with Katherine. She helped you pay for your plane ticket out of here. You owed her your life, and now you’d never be able to repay her.

“What kind of school is it? Elementary? High school?” Rossi asked, flipping through a file that had been left on a desk.

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head, “It’s K-12 all in the same building, that’s why it’s such a big deal that it’s gone.” You looked at the whiteboard, there weren’t any pictures of Katherine up yet, but you could imagine it. She looked more like you than the other victims, and you silently cursed Spencer for putting those thoughts in your head.

“Agent Y/L/N,” you heard Johnny call from behind you, he and your father were charging toward you at an alarming pace. “Are you armed?”

Your head snapped up, “yes,” you answered, putting your hand on your holstered weapon, watching as Johnny and Frank pulled their guns out.

“Please hand over your firearm to Detective Klein and put your hands up,” Frank commanded.

Taking a deep breath, you handed the weapon over to Johnny, facing him directly. It gave you tunnel vision, and you couldn’t even hear the protests of your team as you raised your hands level with your head.

Johnny grabbed your wrists, and you hissed as he cuffed you, the metal cutting into your skin when he made the handcuffs too tight. “Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murders of Victoria Reynolds, Melanie Baylor, and Katherine Meadows. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He shoved you in the direction of the interrogation room, “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

An officer opened the door, and he pushed you down into a metal chair, hooking your handcuffs to the table in front of you.He continued reading your rights, “If you decide to answer questions without an attorney present, you will still have the right to cease answering at any time until you are able to talk to an attorney.” Johnny said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Do you understand your rights?”

You glared up at him, “What the hell are you doing, Johnny?”

He slammed a palm on the table, “Do you understand your rights?”

Pursing your lips, you looked away and peered right at the glass window ahead of you, “Yes, I understand my rights.”

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” He asked, leaning far too close to you, you could smell the cigarette smoke on his uniform. That smell was on you for years after you left, you were convinced you’d never be able to fully wash it off. Maybe you hadn’t.

You seethed up at him, “fuck no.”

Johnny nodded assuredly, opening the door to the interrogation room, and slamming it shut.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to pull the handcuffs away from where it was pinching your skin, you winced when it tore your skin. You set your head down on the cold table and sigh, knowing you should’ve taken Emily’s offer to stay behind when you had the chance.

Another officer came in later and told you they wanted your jacket and shoes for evidence, you didn’t fight them, numbly watching as he unlocked the handcuffs and took your jacket before putting the cuffs back on, just as tight. You kicked off your shoes for the officer and sat back down. Before he left, another officer came in and dropped an evidence box on the table.

It was an FBI scare tactic to leave an empty evidence box on an interrogation room table, but your box wasn’t empty.

They wanted to humiliate you in front of your team, and it was working. 

all the king's horses, all the kings men, couldn't put me together again

The next people to open the door were Charlie and Tara, they sat down across from you. “I’m really sorry about all of this Y/N,” he muttered to you, pulling some files out of the evidence box.

You shrugged and shook your head, “Nothing Johnathan Klein does to me anymore really surprises me.” You looked at the files.

Charlie was hesitant to open the files, “there’s some rough stuff in here if you’re okay with going over some of it with us.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked at the file, “I don’t really have a ton of choice, do I?”

You hated both of them for pitying you, but more than anything you hated your father and Johnny for doing this to you and wasting time while there was a serial killer on the loose. He opened the file and placed pictures of the three victims in front of you.

For a couple of minutes, he asked general questions. Do you know them? How did you know them?

Then Tara finally asked a question, “Y/N, how old were you when your mother died?” She asked you, placing a photo of you and your mom in front of you. You were probably seven in the picture.

“Ten,” you answered, looking at the picture. You wondered if you could keep it once this was all over.

“When you were ten, you started a string of hospital visits that lasted until you were twenty years old. Broken ribs, concussions, fractures, and… a miscarriage,” Tara said, your eyes snapped up to look at her.

Your mouth went dry “You had Garcia unseal my files?” You couldn’t help the hurt in your voice.

The way Tara looked at you, you could tell she understood you in a whole new light now, “we had to. She felt horrible doing it.” That you didn’t doubt, the whole team had a mostly unspoken rule on inter-team profiling. You nodded understandingly.

“Y/N, do you have an alibi for the murders? We already cleared up that you weren’t working, but can anyone account for your whereabouts?” Charlie asked impatiently, he knew you didn’t do this, and it might not be his case anymore, but you could still tell he wanted it solved.

Looking directly at Tara, you answered the question, “No, I wasn’t with anyone.”

Your coworker set her jaw as Charlie got up and left.

“How did you get those injuries, Y/N?” Tara continued her line of questioning, setting a packet of medical records in front of you. You were still cuffed, so all you could do was touch the papers with your fingertips.

The paper read of chromosomes and a D&C, you couldn’t help the tears that flooded your eyes, “I- uh. I don’t want to look at that, please.”

Quickly, Tara pulled the papers away, “who hurt you?”

You bit your lip to stifle a cry, “Tara, please.” You knew what was going on, the only person who knew everything was retaliating against the precinct. They humiliated you, so she was going to humiliate them. She repeated the question and this time you answered, “My father.”

“Was your father also the father of your baby?” She asked, looking down at the papers. Honestly, she looked just about as uncomfortable as you were.

Solemnly, you shook your head, “That was Johnny. We were together from when I was fifteen until I was twenty. My dad-“ Your voice broke off, “Frank never touched me like that.”

“Can you tell me more about Frank?” She asked softly, the way she spoke to victims. The one thing you had tried to avoid.

Blearily, you looked up at your friend, “Can we take a break?”

Nodding, Tara stood up. When she opened the door, you heard shouting. People asking if your cuffs could be taken off. You just let your tears fall for a moment. Charlie came back and unlocked your cuffs, looking at the dried blood on them and the still bleeding wounds on your wrists, “I- I think we have a first aid kit somewhere.”

You brushed him off, waiting for him to leave and for Tara to come back. She did, draping a sweater over the table, and you tentatively grabbed it. Sighing when you recognized it as Spencer’s, “Has everyone seen the paperwork?”

She nodded slowly, “are you alright to talk to me about Frank now?”

You used your newly freed hands to wipe under your eyes before pulling the cardigan on. “It was my mom, she took everything he threw at her to protect me,” you whispered. “He hit me when I was ten, I had gotten a bad grade in social studies. So, my mom and I planned to leave, but he figured it out,” you said, furrowing your brows at the memory. “He strangled her, and she died. He told everyone she hung herself. The whole town believed him because he was the chief of police.”

Tara wrote something down, “he killed her in front of you?”

You nodded, “He needed someone else to take his aggression out on after that, so he beat me.” You told her, fiddling with the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “So, when I was fifteen and I met a boy, I thought I had found the answers to all of my problems, but I really had just discovered more.”

“The boy was Johnathan Klein?”

Affirming her question again, you continued your story, “he was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and he had sex with me even when I begged him not to. He told me he had to because he loved me, and I believed him.”

Tara leaned over and looked you in the eyes, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” You asked meekly, tilting your head to the side. “He proposed to me the day we graduated from high school. I had already accepted the fact that I was never getting out of the town, but what I didn’t know was by getting engaged to him I was very nearly signing my own death certificate.” You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in your chest, “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen, and looking back at it now, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Tara didn’t speak, she just listened. You supposed that was the psychologist in her, letting you take the lead in your own story.

You furrowed your brows as you tried to bring memories that you had spent so long burying to the surface. “I knew I couldn’t make my baby go through the same thing I went through, so I tried to run, but I didn’t get far. He found me, he beat me, he brought me to the hospital, and he told me I killed our baby.” You could see the story was bothering Tara. When you told Emily, you told her in pieces over the span of a month. “The only people I was allowed to see after that were my dad, Johnny, and Katherine.” You wiped tears from your face, “the judge wouldn’t grant me a restraining order, my only option was to run. So, when Kath showed up with a plane ticket and an envelope of cash, I took the opportunity and left.”

“Y/N, do you think these murders could be somehow connected to your upbringing here?” Tara asked, flipping through another file.

You looked back at the glass that separates the observation room, having no idea who was on the other side listening. “I didn’t until Reid said the victims looked like me,” you confessed. It felt too convenient, victims looking like you, you being framed for their murders. Yet, you still made sure not to call Spencer by his first name, afraid of giving yourself away. “Do they have any evidence?”

“They found soil from the factory crime scene on your shoes, but your jacket is still being processed. Without an alibi, we can’t get them to release you,” Tara said.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in the chair, “Of course, they found soil from the factory crime scene on my shoes, I was at the scene yesterday.”

The door opened and Frank stepped inside, “Your alibi spoke up.” He sounded irritated, but not as irritated as he’s going to be once the BAU is through with him.

i see right through me

Spencer had settled you down on a desk in the corner of the precinct, disinfecting the cuts on your wrists made by Johnny’s handcuffs. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as he cleaned the debris from your torn skin.

He didn’t respond, he just shook his head. You could tell he was thinking, as clearly as if you could see gears physically turning in his head.

“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, bending your neck to try to catch his eyes.

He shook his head again, “I’m not upset, not with you at least.”

You raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “Then stop getting so lost in thought. What’s bothering you?”

He clasped both of your hands in his own, setting them in your lap, “Does it feel like a coincidence to you that the same night Johnny told us about the school the woman who helped you escape an abusive relationship was found dead at that school?” Spencer dropped your hands, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out bandages before gingerly wrapping your wrists. At work, you tried to keep the public displays to a minimum, but you felt like these were extenuating circumstances, which was why you had secluded yourselves in the corner.

“I need to look at the crime scene photos again,” you said, trying to get off of the desk.

Spencer firmly placed both of his hands on your hips, effectively keeping you in place. “Once I’m done,” he whispered, securing the bandages on your wrists. “Are you alright?”

You tilted your head up at him and smiled sadly, “Everyone learned a lot about me today. Some of it I had never intended on telling them. I just feel… exposed? Raw?” You searched desperately for the right word to use to describe exactly how you feel.

Hanging your head low, your eyes traced patterns in the carpet when Spencer hooked a finger gently under your chin and lifted your head, so you were looking at him. His honey-colored eyes searched your face, and you felt like he was looking right through you. “You know nothing that happened today makes any of us see you differently, right? I don’t think of you as any less of a person because of what I learned today.”

You shook your head, “You don’t learn those things about your girlfriend and look at her the same.”

“You’re right. I don’t look at you the same, I’m even more in awe of you now than I was before. The fact that you’ve been through what you’ve been through and you’re this bright, shiny person sitting in front of me is astounding, but…” His voice trailed off.

Here it was, he couldn’t want who you were. He didn’t want the heavy history that comes with you. You shut your eyes.

He cupped your face with his hands, “it makes me worry that maybe I haven’t been there for you enough. Not in the same way you’re there for me.”

“Spence,” you whispered, swallowing back your emotions, and looking up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “I love you, and I have to make sure that you know that I’m always going to be there when you need me.”

Nodding rapidly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, “I know.” Your voice was little more than a rasp, “I know, I love you too.”

After assuring Emily and Tara that your friendship was intact, you turned to the team. “I think I play a bigger part in this case than I realize.”

“We were just coming to a similar conclusion, once we saw what Katherine Meadows looked like, it just confirmed our suspicions,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard, which now had Kath’s picture on it, as well as yours. “The whole town seems to have it out for you, though. How do we narrow down the suspect pool?”

You stepped up to the whiteboard, “Because it’s not about the locations and their relation to the town, it’s about the locations and their relation to me.” You pointed to the factory, “When I was fifteen, this was the first place Johnny ever assaulted me.”

“You said he proposed to you at your high school graduation, right?” Tara said, “That’s the connection to the school.”

Nodding, you continued, “And we were going to get married at the church.”

Spencer wrote this all down on the whiteboard as you fit the pieces of this puzzle together. “Is there anywhere else that would fit in with these other locations?”

Flipping through a file, you set papers down on the desk in front of your team. “That’s our house, it was set on fire not long after I left,” you pointed out. “That’s where he’s going next.”

“But who will his victim be? If we can get to her before he can, then we can stop him before he gets to her,” Matt mentioned.

Slowly, you turned around and faced your team, “I don’t intend on letting anyone else get hurt. This is between me and Johnny.”

who could stay?

You sat yourself down at the dining room table. Nothing in the house had been moved, its charred remains were left defenseless against Mother Nature. You knew this table, there was blood ground into the wood grain. It was your blood.

You wished they had torn the rest of the structure down.

Spencer didn’t like the idea of you going alone, but you were armed, and you had an earpiece in. You weren’t alone, the team was nearby in case things went wrong.

“Incoming, blue pick-up pulling into the driveway,” Luke said through the radio. “Suspect’s getting out, it doesn’t look like anyone’s with him.”

Realistically, you knew nothing was going to happen to you, but there was some small voice in the back of your head that told you something was going to go awry.

You wiped your sweaty palms on the floral-patterned chair. Part of you was grateful that the team had enough faith in you to send you to get a confession on your own, but another part of you wished someone would’ve asked you if this is really what you want to do. Sure, you wanted Johnathan Klein to be put away for a long time, but you didn’t want to be in this house. When you left, you had hoped you’d never have to set foot in this godforsaken town ever again.

Sitting up straight, the front door opened. You’re not sure why he opens the door when there’s a hole in the wall leading right to you. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I always knew you’d come back to me, baby,” Johnny spoke to you in a low voice, but you knew the team could hear.

“I didn’t come here for you, Johnny,” you whispered, keeping your voice steady. “I came for the girls who were murdered. I knew them, we both did,” you told him. That was the truth, you felt like you owed them because they died while you got to live.

He sat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. It was all you could do to not flinch away from him. “Then why did you bring that guy? If not to make me jealous, then why?”

“Johnny, if I go with you, will it stop?” You asked, turning to him, reaching out your hand, and placing it on his arm.

Humming, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, luckily not the side where you had your earbud in. “I don’t know what you mean, babe. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” he said, pulling you to your feet abruptly. You didn’t see the knife when he first walked in, you didn’t even know he had it until it was to your throat.

But you weren’t twenty years old anymore. You had grown up. You had learned self-defense.

So, you caught him off guard when you hit him, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. “You bitch!” He growled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You won’t kill me,” you said, planting your feet on the ground. “You had five years to kill me, Johnny.”

He stood up, “No, but I killed a part of you. Didn’t I? When I killed your baby?”

After all these years, he knew how to get under your skin. He got one hit off, across your cheek, the strike so hard that your earbud went flying across the room. “You killed the part of me that you created, that’s not who I am. I recreated myself, a version of myself without this godforsaken town.”

“But I got you here, back home. I killed all those girls for you to come back to me,” he said, running straight at you.

You hit him with your gun, you physically struck him with the butt of the gun. You could’ve shot him, it would’ve been clean, but you didn’t. That would’ve been easy for him. He dropped like a ragdoll and the rest of your team came rushing in. Someone was calling your name, but you couldn’t hear.

Matt ended up being the one who cuffed him, you slowly walked away from them. Backing yourself into a wall, you watched it all happen.

When you left your hometown, you never quite felt like it was over. He was always still going to be around. But this? This felt final.

It made your chest ache.

Gently, Spencer took your hand and led you outside. “It’s done?”

He nodded rapidly, “It’s over, angel. Emily and Luke are at the precinct taking Frank into custody. They’ll both go away for a long time.”

“Spence, I want to go home,” you whispered, looking down the road and seeing houses that you recognize from your childhood. This whole town was filled with your own ghosts. “Can we go home?”

Spencer didn't answer, he just pulled you into him and held you tightly. You let him inspect the wound on your cheek before you went back to the hotel and put everyone’s belongings in an SUV.

On the jet, the two of you sequestered yourselves in the back where it’s darker. He offered to let you lie down, so you rested your head in his lap. He used one hand to hold his book and the other to smooth your hair back. Your eyes were shut, but you were vaguely aware of the rest of the team as they took turns peeking back at the both of you.

you could stay

please remember to like, reblog, and comment

#written by margot #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds imagine

[doctorbeth]

Mimming from Singapore

A couple months ago I received an email from Mimming's person in Singapore. Mimming is an almost 40 year old teddy bear, and she's been very well loved... and hugged.

This is what Mimming looked like when she was young:

And this is what she looked like at the start of 2023:

As you can see, she lost a lot of weight and fur from hugs over the years. Her eyes have cataracts (you'll see those better later), her nose is dangling due to muzzle shrinkage, and she has some pretty significant wounds she usually keeps under her shirt. But she's still a very cuddly bear with an endearing expression.

Her person was hoping to get Mimming recovered in new fur, so she could be hugged and have adventures for at least 40 more years. A new nose and new eyes were under consideration, and we agreed starting with a spa (especially since her stuffing was so compressed, was probably in order. So... Mimming found a flight with her buddy Little Mimming to keep her company (you'll see her later) and headed across the Pacific to CA. While Mimming is well travelled, this was a first solo Pacific flight, and so it was bit scary, hence the company. It actually took less than a week for her to arrive!

She started with her bubble bath, that way new fur would match her cleaned fur color.

You can see her cataracts, particularly in her right eye, and how loose and chipped her nose is here.

Next was deciding if she would get a new nose and eyes, or keep her originals. Turns out, there were many nose options. Smooth like nose, flocked/velvety, size differences:

Her person opted for a new, velvety, triangular nose. For her eyes, there was really only one option, new or not. I can usually get pretty good color matches, but Mimming's eyes had also faded, so new eyes would be a touch brighter. Once eyes or a nose come out, they can't go back in, and with recovering it's best to remove them before recovering, so this was a decision that needed to be made before fur choice. Here's the eye option next to her original eye:

Mimming's person opted for two new eyes. We agreed to preserve her old eyes and nose in her heart with a bit of her stuffing. But first, she needed new fur. Here were some of the white fur options:

Mimming's person went with the thick white faux fur, and surgery proceeded. For her brown patch, I had furs to match all of the white fur options, so we were all set there.

Here's her heart being made and installed:

And here are the first photos of Mimming in all new fur. She still has open seams, so her chubbiness can be adjusted:

While she sits naturally like in her baby photos, she can also lay flat like she could when she arrived. Chubbiness approved, Mimming got dressed and went outside for a photo shoot. She was well traveled, but had never been to California, and she wanted some photos as souvenirs. Little Mimming joined her for the photo shoot (those were the first tulips of the season):

And those adorable knitted overalls? Those are Mimming's regular travel clothes that she arrived in. Good thing that knit stretches. I particularly liked the little teddy bear buttons to hold the straps.

Mimming and Little Mimming flew home and again, it was a fast trip, just 5 days! Here they are safe and sound, albeit a little jet lagged, with their friends:

Her person wrote:

Thank you so much!! She looks amazing! We are so happy we got to spend the rest of our lifetime with her - another 40+ years!! Thank you Doctor Beth for taking great care of her. You’re such a blessing to all of us! Praying for your good health and good life. Stay happy and blessed!

#stuffed animal repair #teddy bear repair #teddy bears #stuffed animals #stuffed animal cleaning #teddy bear cleaning #teddy bear clothes #mimming #singapore

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Jealousy Hurts]

(gif by me)

Mike starts to flirt with you. Vanessa definitely isn't jealous. Contents: Fluff, Angst(ish), Established Relationship Warnings: N/A WC: 2,220

"No no, like this," Mike laughed as he rolled the ball masterfully, he had been bragging about how good at skee-ball he was so you had asked him to teach you. After all, there wasn't a lot to do on the night shift so you might as well waste some time. Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy had been standing a few feet away watching the two of you play, each of them seeming curious.

You rolled another ball but it fell short again.

"Ah, I'll never get it," you groaned, already wanting to give up after failing to get a decent score for the past hour.

Mike smiled at you, stepping closer, "No. Come on. Let me show you." He grabbed another ball and showed you the angle of his arm, "It's simple. Just enough strength in the throw, not too much. And..." he released the ball and it swiftly made its way down the lane and up into one of the high score pockets, "Easy."

"You mean you make it look easy," you rolled your eyes at him and folded your arms in frustration.

He chuckled to himself before holding a ball towards you, "Come on. Let me help."

Vanessa sat in her patrol car outside the pizzeria, her fingers tapping on the wheel. She had been sitting here for almost an hour now, deciding on whether or not to go inside. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the dashboard - 02:40am. She'd usually check in on you every other night to make sure you were okay, but tonight she knew you were on shift with Mike... And yet here she was, pondering on whether or not to go in and see how you were doing. She definitely wasn't here to make sure Mike wasn't going to try anything on you... Definitely not.

Finally, she stepped out of her vehicle and slammed the door shut. She went towards the front doors and peered through the glass, she could see that the lights were on and she could hear faint music. She was about to knock but decided to try the door instead... And of course it was unlocked. Vanessa rolled her eyes in frustration, she couldn't count the amount of times she'd told you to make sure the doors were locked every night.

Upon stepping inside, she could hear muffled voices and laughter - she presumed it was from you and Mike. The stage was empty as she walked past it towards the arcade games, she could clearly see the tall animatronics at the back of the room by the skee-ball machines.

She manoeuvred her way past different games and machines, stepping over loose wires here and there making sure not to trip. She finally made it to the skee-ball machines, she patted Freddy on the arm to let him know that she was there. He stepped out of the way to let her through, however she stopped in her tracks at what she saw.

Mike was standing behind you, one of his hands slowly moving up your arm towards your wrist. Your hand soon lay in his palm, a ball was secure in your hand.

"And you just gotta..." Mike's voice was quiet as Vanessa watched him move your hand with his.

Vanessa decided to clear her voice, making herself known. Both you and Mike turned to look at her.

You dropped the ball and retracted away from Mike with a smile, "Vanessa!" you exclaimed with a smile, walking over to her, "I didn't think you were coming tonight."

Vanessa couldn't help but glare at Mike as you approached her and wrapped her up in your arms, she more than willingly returned the hug as you pressed your lips to her cheek.

"I er... I wasn't aware you two knew each other," Mike coughed awkwardly.

You had been working as an overnight security guard longer than Mike had, you met Vanessa in the first week and you two had hit it off pretty quickly - entering into a relationship only a few months after meeting. A couple of months later, another security guard was hired: Mike. You had only worked duo shifts with him a few times now but you already saw him as a close friend, it was nice to have someone to talk to on long night shifts.

"Oh! Yes. I met Vanessa a few days after I started working here," you said as you pulled away from the hug, Vanessa made sure to grab your hand with hers - she tried her hardest to not keep glaring at Mike. You squeezed her hand in response, "She's my girlfriend. Has been for a couple months now." Vanessa couldn't stop the small smile from appearing on her face.

Mike raised an eyebrow, "Ah... I'm just... surprised it never came up," he shifted on the balls of his feet awkwardly.

"To be honest I didn't even know you two met," you replied.

Vanessa nodded, "I helped him out for the first couple of days," she stepped ever so slightly closer to your side, her hand still firm in yours, "I wasn't going to come over tonight but I was... passing by so I decided to anyways." She definitely wasn't passing by, her last area of patrol was on the other side of town.

"Well, I'm glad you came," you smiled.

Vanessa smirked at you, "Oh really? You usually complain, saying something along the lines of 'I don't need you to keep me company every night, I'm a big girl'."

You rolled your eyes, "Just because I don't need you here, doesn't mean I don't want you here," you then turned your attention back towards Mike, who seemed to be uncomfortable, "I'm sure time will absolutely fly by now that there's more of us."

"What were you two up to?" Vanessa said, her mind going back to when Mike was practically wrapped around you.

"Mike over here is apparently the best skee-ball player that anyone has ever seen. So he was teaching me how to play. I'm sure I could challenge him any day now."

Mike laughed, "I'm sure you could, Y/N."

The three of you made your way towards the main stage, the animatronics walked behind you.

"What should we do to get through these last three hours, hm?" you wondered, looking around the room.

"I mean... We are at Freddy Fazbear's after all. Couldn't hurt to watch them perform a little," Vanessa suggested, nodding towards the showtime button on the wall. You looked towards the animatronics, they almost seemed excited to get up there and put on a show.

You and Vanessa were sitting at one of the party tables, listening to the music coming from the stage. Freddy, Bonnie and Chica were currently performing whilst Foxy stood by your table, he seemed to be enjoying the show.

Vanessa reached across the table to hold your hand, "Sorry for coming here unannounced, Y/N. Just wanted to see how things were going with... Mike."

You nodded, "Him and I became friends quite quickly. It is nice to have someone here when you aren't able to stop by. The animatronics are good company, but it can't hurt to have someone I can actually have a conversation with." You noticed the way Vanessa squeezed your hand ever so slightly as you spoke. You cocked your head at her before teasing, "You're still my favourite, don't worry. I'd rather have you here."

She grit her teeth, "You know, I'm happy you do have someone to keep you company when I'm not here."

A smirk appeared on your face, "Is that so?"

Before Vanessa could answer, Mike walked into the room with a couple of cans in his hands, "I managed to find a vending machine that still worked," he said, handing you a drink. Vanessa gulped hard as she saw him purposefully drag his fingers across yours as you took the drink. He simply placed the other drink on the table in front of Vanessa.

"They aren't out of date are they?" you said, trying to read the scuffed label.

With a shrug, he walked towards the front of the room to take a seat closer to the stage. Foxy followed close behind him before sprinting past him at full speed, jumpscaring him in the process. You couldn't help but laugh at Mike's reaction as he almost threw the can at Foxy.

You released Vanessa's hand in order to open the can, "I mean I am thirsty..." you hummed, a smile on your face.

Vanessa glared at Mike from across the room, "It's Fizzy Faz. It's disgusting."

You noticed that Vanessa was currently glaring at Mike as the man took his seat, "You sure? Is it disgusting or... Do you not want to drink it because of Mike?"

Her eyes snapped onto you, "Because of Mike? Wh-"

"Come on, Nessy," you grabbed her hand across the table once more, placing the can down onto the table, "I've noticed the glaring. What's going on?"

"Nothing is going on, Y/N," she didn't intend for her voice to sound so cold or snappy, but she couldn't help it.

A frown appeared on your face, "V..."

She sighed heavily, "Sorry. Sorry, Y/N. It's nothing, okay? Mike just..."

You had a slight suspicion of what was going on, but you really wanted her to tell you, "You can talk to me, Nessy. You know I won't judge you, right?"

"It's so stupid, Y/N," she laughed, shaking her head.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Vanessa's hand rubbed your knuckles as she tried to think about how to word what she was thinking.

You bit your lip before breaking the silence, "Can you play skee-ball?"

Vanessa was confused by the question, "Skee-ball?"

"Yeah. Are you any good at it?"

"I... I haven't played in a while. But I'd say I've still got it."

"Would you like to teach me instead?" you smirked.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, knowing what you were getting at, "Y/N..."

"Come on, Vanessa. Just admit you didn't like seeing Mike teach me like that."

She scoffed, "Can you blame me? Wouldn't you be pissed if you saw someone all up on your girlfriend like that?"

"To be honest I didn't think anything of it in the moment. I'm sorry, I should've been more aware. I wouldn't give you up for anything. You believe me, right?" you said, hoping for her to understand.

With a sigh, Vanessa nodded, "It's okay, Y/N. I didn't think you were in the wrong," her eyes drifted over to Mike who was currently downing his can of Fizzy Faz, a grimace appeared on his face as he slammed the can down onto the table, "You know he likes you, right?" she looked back at you.

You briefly glanced towards him, "I don't think so..."

She laughed slightly, "Of course he does. Those longing looks, the lingering touches. Him holding your hand teaching you how to play skee-ball. It's every cliché in the book."

"Okay, so maybe he does. But I promise to turn him down if anything happens, okay?"

With a nod, she replied, "Okay. Sorry for acting this way."

"I think it's cute. Shows that you care about me."

She almost looked offended, "Cute is not the word I would use to describe me."

You let go of her hand, she was surprised by the sudden lack of touch. You made your way round to sit in the seat next to her, "You are cute, whether you like it or not," you leaned your head on her shoulder.

Vanessa couldn't stop herself from resting her cheek against your head. The two of you looked over at the animatronics who were still performing, Foxy now having his own little performance on his own stage.

You stretched your arm across the table to grab your can of Fizzy Faz, you removed your head from Vanessa's shoulder to take a sip...

"It's disgusting."

"Told you," Vanessa smirked in victory, "It's probably years out of date too, I can't imagine what it tastes like."

You put the can back down before turning towards Vanessa, "You should taste it."

"I think I will pass on that, thanks."

"You sure?" you leaned closer.

Vanessa turned her head towards yours. She wasted no time in pressing her lips to yours, a soft smile creeping up onto her face. You smiled into the kiss as you felt Vanessa's hand creep up your neck to hold the back of your head. Sadly, you both needed to breath so she pulled away.

She licked her lips causing your breath to hitch... A grimace soon appeared on her face, "God, it tastes disgusting."

You couldn't help but laugh, "I know."

That didn't stop Vanessa from going in for seconds, though.

Vanessa x F!Reader - Safety Latch (Fluff,Angst,First Kiss)

Vanessa x F!Reader - Total Insecurity (Angst,Hurt/Comfort)

#fnaf gif #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf vanessa x reader #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa monroe #vanessa fnaf #vanny x reader #mike schmidt x reader #five nights at freddys #mike schmidt

[kawaiijellymonster]

.

#yall friday and yesterday came straight from hell istg I'm losing my shit #first I literally was doing class or class adjacent stuff Friday from 8am to 9pm #i've been helping my friend move out of her dorm bc she got emergency housing bc her roommate is psychotic #i went to hang out w my friends for an hour friday night but they were all high and I don't feel comfortable around weed bc #highschool trauma #so i left after I finished eating some french fries and I finished a convo w a friend #then saturday I went on a spontaneous trip with my friends to get boba and do homework and we asked my roommate to drop something off #bc she didn't have plans for the day and seemed like she was vibing w laying low for the day #but she sent me a super passive agressive text so I was kinda nervous #then my partner sent me a text message bc we had problems earlier in the week and I got more on edge #then I got back to my room and my roommate wasn't there so I watched a show w a different friend #then I texted my partner and shit happened but basically they broke up w me bc my friends are too white and I'm an unengaging texter?? #and then my roommate got back and i was like #are u okay #and shes like #you asking me to do something for u and not inviting me to boba is the most hurtful thing to happen to me all semester #and I didn't invite her to boba bc she seemed tired and nauseous so I thought she wanted to chill #and then she said if I thought she wasn't doing so good why did i go to boba instead of taking care of her and I'm like??? kuz you're 20 yr #old and im not your mother??? #and I'm like ???? what the legitimate fuck #and she was like 'you left on Friday and didn't take care of me when I was high' #and then we was like dude u know I'm uncomfortable around #weed why the fuck would u expect me to take care of you u were with 6 other people and last year someone babied her when she was high #and she was pissed off for legitimate days #then she was all 'you knew i had a project that's overdue and I needed to work on it' #and I'm like I legit tried to help her with it 3 times and she kept blowing me off! #I cannot be responsible for her finishing her project #she spent the entire morning watching tv i spent the whole morning doing 60 pages of anthropology reading #all of this happened in 6 hours and then my period started #tw mental breakdown

[chvrryzpop]

BRUTAL

c. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: Chris got into a fight with his girlfriend Paige and you comforted him until things led to another...

warnings: dom!chris, angst, smut, fingering, degrading kink, make out, pet names, cheating, alcohol, use of y/n, throwing up, toxic relationship.

not proofread!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You were at a house party that a few friends of the triplets organized. You were near the drinks table with Nick and Madi while Matt, Chris, and his girlfriend Paige were on the other side of the house. The thing is that you’re drunk right now and you can't help but stare at Chris, the way he caresses Paige's waist, the way he leans to whisper dirty little things to her, you want that, you want to be the one that he says those things, you want to be the one he can touch, love, crave for.

And it killed you that she was perfect and you felt like you would never be like her.

Little did you know...

“Y/n!” Nick snaps you out of your trance waving a hand across your face.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You asked while you kept glaring at Chris’ direction.

“Do you want to play beer pong with us?” He asked once again

You nodded and that's when you saw Chris leaving with Paige upstairs.

Ouch.

This shouldn't be affecting you this much, but it hurts like hell. You can’t even recall when you started to feel this way about him, but it drove you crazy.

“Sure, but I kinda need some water…” And that’s when you felt it, your stomach turning, feeling the lump forming in your throat, this was the moment where your decision to get drunk would make you suffer the consequences for it. Kneeling on the floor, wrapping your arms around your stomach, feeling the acid making you gag, your first instinct was to pick up your cup and throw up on the inside, If you were going to humiliate yourself, the least you could do was to not make a mess on the fucking floor.

Feeling the sensation wear off slightly after literally throwing up your intestines (or at least that’s how it felt) you tried to stand up. Failing miserably, causing Nick and Madi to pick you up and rest your left arm around Nick’s shoulders and your right arm on Madi’s shoulders, trying to carry you to the bathroom as fast as they could.

Chris' POV

I went upstairs with Paige since she needed to talk to me. I think I’ve never felt so anxious in my life as I do right now. That’s when we got there and the conversation in reality was just Paige complaining about a trip I was going on with my brothers in a few days. “I just don’t understand why can’t you stay here with me!” she yelled.

“I already told you a few weeks ago that I’m not canceling another trip with my brothers just because you feel like not letting me go, you’re not my fucking mother to tell me where I can go or not, what I can do or not! Because guess what, Paige, I can do the fuck I want.” I snapped back, making Paige turn around and slap me harshly, leaving a red mark across my cheek.

I held my cheek, not feeling slightly shocked anymore since this started way back ago, I could tell by her face that she regretted it instantly.

“Chris, baby…” she tried to place her hand on the spot where she marked, making me pull away from her touch.

“And now you just gave me more reasons to go on that fucking trip,” I added between sobs, trying to hold back the tears, turning my back to her.

"Please, don't leave me… I can fix this..." She gripped my arm.

"As far as I remember, you mentioned the same thing last time we fought." The resentment showed up in my voice, but I couldn't help it. How could someone so perfect turn into a complete monster? How can someone hurt someone they love?

And when I left the room, I would rather not see her face or hear her voice.

Y/n’s POV

You were in the bathroom throwing up while Madi was making you a ponytail and Nick rubbed your back. This night couldn’t get any worse. “Shit,” Nick murmured as you let your head rest on his shoulder, feeling way better than how you were.

“What?” Madi asked, her voice sounding tense.

“Matt just texted me we’re leaving right now.” You sat up straight, panicking, “What do you mean? I thought we all agreed to go until 1:00 AM…”

He scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah, well, there’s a change of plans.”

You checked your phone, and it was only midnight, “You guys should convince Matt if we can go in 30 minutes?”

They looked at each other and then back at you, “We won’t leave you here, y/n.”

“I’ll be fine, guys don’t need to worry about me.” You smiled at both of them.

Nick shook his head. “I’ll just text Chris to ask him if he can try to convince Matt to let us stay a little longer.” He spoke as he started to type on his phone. “We’re not leaving you here alone, end of the conversation.”

"Alright, Dad," you replied jokingly, having as a response an eye roll from Nick as he was about to laugh.

Thirty minutes had passed, and the three of you were still inside the bathroom waiting for Chris’ answer. “Did he text you already?” You asked as you rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash to get rid of the disgusting sour taste you had.

"Yes, and he's giving me a headache already!" Nick answered as he kept texting back and forth with whom you supposed was Chris, "He won't stop being a fucking baby, and it's bitch complaining to me that Matt keeps insisting that we have to go now."

"Well...maybe we should try to—" You got interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, you all looked at each other confused.

As you open the door, you see a long-haired brunette and a pair of pretty blue eyes.

It was Chris. His eyes seemed puffy and a little red as if he were crying. “Is Nick here?” Anger was plastered on his face.

That’s when Nick stood up and opened the bathroom door, “What the fuck, Chris? Can’t you do a simple task?” causing Chris to scoff “And you clearly can’t read. I texted you back saying that Matt didn’t give a shit about you guys needing more time. He wants to go now.”

“Did you explain to him that y/n is not feeling well right now?” Nick snapped back, crossing his arms.

Chris rubbed his face with both his hands before scanning your entire face. “Isn’t she okay now?”

“Chris! She could barely walk by herself a few minutes ago, why’s is it so hard for you to do a fucking favor and ask our brother to give us some time?!” Nick answered, his voice rising.

“Because I don’t understand why the fuck you guys need more time, y/n look completely fine, and you’re making a huge fucking deal out of it!” Chris’ voice also got a little louder.

“Because it will be a fucking huge deal when she’s throwing up all over the fucking car!” He shouted.

Chris’ jaw clenched.

“Then why don’t you ask Matt, since it’s such a big deal, huh?”

“Fine, I’ll fucking go and instead you and y/n will stay here while Madi and I sort this out since it’s so difficult for you.” Nick left the bathroom, Madi following his pace as Chris moved out of the way so they could get out.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to—” Chris shut the door behind him and looked at you, tears forming in his eyes. Your first instinct was to hug him.

He just cried as silently as he could. You guessed that alcohol hits him differently than it does to you. He dragged you closer by wrapping his arms around your waist, and you began to stroke his hair. “Everything’s going to be alright, Chris.”

“No, it’s not, I’m a fucking burden to everybody and,” His sobs getting louder than before. “First, I fought with Paige and now Nick.”

You pulled back to look at his face, pulling his chin up so he could look at you, “You’re not a burden to no one, Chris.” You said, “You’re like the sun, and when the sun comes out, everyone smiles.” You kept talking, caressing his right cheek with your thumb, “Besides, whatever you and Paige fought about was just because she was drunk, it’ll pass.”

He just nodded and then rested his face on the crook of your neck and kept crying a little.

A few minutes had passed, you and Chris were sitting on the bathroom floor, laughing and talking a little.

“You know, If I’m being honest…I kind of envy Paige.” You said while looking up at the ceiling.

“Why?” Chris replied, furrowing his brows slightly

“Because she’s so beautiful and I’m not…” You admitted.

“Well that’s not true, you are really beautiful too.” He looked at you and smiled.

Beautiful, he called you beautiful.

A buzz sound came from Chris’ phone, he picked it up and looked at the screen. “It’s Nick.”

“What he said?”

“Matt accepted to stay a little more.”

“Excellent! This means I can finally get out of this bathroom.” You stood up and fixed your dress a bit, offering a hand to Chris.

He took your hand and stood up, as he was looking at you. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your lips.

And that’s when you noticed how your faces were just inches apart, feeling his breath hitting your face softly. “Chris…”

“Y/n…”

His palms were resting now on your cheeks, your mouths almost touching, “Do you want to kiss me, hm?” He suggested, grazing his lips against yours teasingly, causing you to shiver a little.

Of course, you wanted it, but was it right? Will he regret it? Will you regret it?

Something snapped you back from reality, cold hands running on your lower back down to your ass, gripping it slightly, “I asked you something.” His voice shifted to a demanding tone.

Fuck it.

You crush your lips against his. At first, it was sloppy, both fighting for dominance, he kept his grip on your ass, gripping it harder. Making you gasp.

And that’s when he gets the chance to slide his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. Your body pressed against the cold marble sink that was right behind you, his hands now resting on the sides of your hips. Chris picked you up from your thighs and sat you up on the bathroom sink. Lifting your dress to reveal your black laced panties.

His hand snaked down to your inner thigh. His kisses lowered from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck. His fingers finally got to your heat, your panties soaking wet. “You’re so wet for me.” He whispered, causing you to whimper a bit. He pulled your panties to the side and began to rub in circles your sensitive nub, whimpers coming out of your mouth. Shaking breaths, your hands gripping on the sink, your knuckles getting white.

“You fucking like that, don’t you?” Chris asked through gritted teeth, applying more pressure on your clit. You nodded but that made things worse, “You better use your fucking words, y/n. Or else I’ll stop and leave you all alone.”

“Y-yes, I l-like i-it.” You handled letting out. Chris smirked and kept stroking your clit. You closed your eyes and leaned your head back, your head resting against the mirror wall, feeling the wave of pleasure consuming you. “Fuck…”

But then, the pleasure stopped. You opened your eyes and looked at Chris, he was smirking at you while he sucked his fingers, guiding them back to your throbbing pussy. Slipping them inside you, painfully slow. Your walls clench around his fingers, your legs squeezing with each other, a loud gasp coming out from you. Chris began to pick up his pace, thrusting his fingers in and out of you “Just like that, keep making those pretty noises for me like a good girl.” He groaned, intensifying his speed with each thrust.

He looked down where his fingers were working their way to bring you over the edge, you let pornographic moans out of your mouth, giving Chris what he wants.

Control.

“You look so fucking pathetic right now.” He grabbed your chin with his free hand and forced you to see him, his eyes darkened and full of desire. “Don’t you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? You fucking slut.” Chris whispered to you, pumping his fingers mercilessly in and out of you. “You wanted this? You wanted me to finger you?”

You nodded desperately, feeling the well-known knot forming inside of you, you were about to come. “I-I’m so c-close,” you mumbled. “What was that?” He gripped your chin tighter. Your hands grasp tighter on the bathroom sink, your climax getting closer and closer with each thrust. “Don’t stop, fuck.” You spat, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt finally getting to the edge.

“I won't.” He replied, getting closer to leave a few hickeys on your collarbone and the crook of your neck. That's when you felt your release “Fuck!” a loud moan coming out from you, your walls clenching around Chris’ fingers. Your juices flooded all over his fingers. Chris took out his fingers, a popping sound as he did. Your chest goes up and down violently, and your breath is heavy.

He looked at his fingers then at you, “Open your eyes, now.” You open your eyes slowly to get the view of Chris cleaning out his fingers until there isn't a single drop of your juices around his fingers. “You taste so fucking good, ma.”

What the fuck was going on tonight.

You were in the backseat with Nick and Madi, gossiping about tonight's party “It was fun.” Nick admitted.

“Yeah, I think I’m not going to parties anymore,” Matt added.

And there was Chris, glancing at you a few times before they left you at your apartment.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, alright?” You said to them as you waved at them.

You're finally in a quieter place, where you can think about what just happened tonight with Chris.

It finally happened, you finally got what you wanted with Chris and even more.

But it wasn’t enough, you craved for more.

But then, reality hits.

He was still with Paige, and you were just a distraction to him.

Or that’s what you thought until…

You got a text from someone.

It was Chris.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: not the best one-shots ever but here you go!!! Lmk if there’s any mistakes!

Tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo x reader #Spotify #madi filipowicz #sturniolo smut #smut #one shot #imagine #female reader #angst #chris x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you