#but it's IMPORTANT to me so I need to do it now
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tears [rafe cameron]
pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.
warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe
rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.
“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.
“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“
his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.
“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”
his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.
he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.
“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.
“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.
“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”
she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.
“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.
“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.
she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“
“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”
he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.
she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.
he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.
she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”
he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.
she shakes her head. “just you.”
he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.
he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”
he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.
nothing came before his girl.
#rafe cameron#obx fic#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#protective rafe#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine
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♥︎Pick a picture:💕⭐️Channeled messages from your future self⭐️💕
•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3
❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️
✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!
⭐️If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!⭐️
💕Masterlist💕
💙Pile 1:
"You are closer than you think to the life you truly desire, just trust the process."
"The change you fear so much is the door that will lead you to what truly belongs to you."
"Do not underestimate the power of patience; what is to come will be much greater than you imagine."
"Your intuition already knows the answer, it is time to listen to it and act with confidence."
"Remember: everything you have overcome has prepared you for what is to come. There is no turning back."
"Sometimes, moving away from the known is necessary to make room for the new and extraordinary."
"The love you give yourself is the first step to attracting what you deserve in all areas of your life."
"It is time to let go of what no longer serves you; the universe has something better in store for you."
"Your personal power is unbreakable. Do not let anyone or anything make you doubt your ability."
"Opportunities are in front of you, you just need to take the first step with faith and courage."
Hi Pile 1! Your future self is so wise and clever, they are in a powerful position for sure. It's time to take the first step you need, you are capable and are ready for what's next!
💖Pile 2:
"The calm before the storm is the sign that something big is coming, get ready to receive it."
"Your efforts have not been in vain. The universe is preparing the ground for your success."
"You don't have to have all the answers now. Sometimes, the most important thing is to trust the path."
"You are breaking free from what was holding you back. Peace and clarity are closer than you think."
"Your energy is aligned with change. Don't resist the inevitable, embrace the transformation."
"The time to heal has come. Emotional release is your first step towards fulfillment."
"The stars have aligned your destiny for a greater purpose, trust that everything happens for a reason."
"It's time to manifest what you want. The universe is listening to your deepest thoughts."
"You are in the process of rebuilding yourself, give it time."
"What seems uncertain now, will become clearer in time. Allow yourself to trust the journey."
Hi pile 2! You are in a transformation process and your future self wants you to know that everything will be fine, just give yourself the time you need and don't push to hard; be gentle with yourself, a big hug for you pile 2.
💕Pile 3:
"Your capacity to achieve great things is far beyond what you imagine. Trust your potential."
"The opportunities you seek are on your way."
"You are ready to receive everything the universe has prepared for you."
"Every challenge you face is an opportunity in disguise. You are being prepared for something much greater."
"The key to success is constant action. Don't stop, the universe is aligning everything for you."
"Doors are opening, and you hold the key. Don't doubt your ability to take advantage of every opportunity."
"Your dreams are valid and attainable. The first step is to believe in them as much as you believe in yourself."
"You are attracting success because you are aligned with your purpose. Keep believing, keep moving forward, the best is yet to come."
"Your capacity to love and create is infinite. Everything you put your heart into doing, becomes art."
"You are exactly where you need to be. Every step you take brings you closer to the person you are destined to be."
Hi pile 3! You are definitely working hard for your dreams and I see that you will be someone very successful! Feel that you are someone artistic, who connects with the most sincere parts of yourself when creating, this will lead you to find your way. Keep going pile 3!
💕💖Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated 💖💕
#astrology placements#astro community#astrology#astro blog#zodiac#astro notes#astro news#astro observations#tarot cards#tarot witch#tarot spread#tarot reading#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#pac reading#pick a picture#pick a photo#pick a pile#pick a card#pick one#pic a card reading#paid tarot readings#paid tarot reading#pac paid reading#zodiac placements#zodiac observations#tarot#tarot and astrology#love tarot reading#soulmate tarot reading
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Monstober - Day 9: Folklore Creatures
Spin on "Little Red Riding Hood" anyone? What could be better than someone so obsessed with you, they simply want to eat you up?
Prompt: Folklore Creatures | Cautionary Tales // Truth // Naivity Warnings: Yandere, Violence (non-main character murder, Blood Mention, Implied Bullying of the reader (off-screen)), Topic of Jealousy, Posessiveness
"Love you, hun."
Pressing a gentle kiss to your head, your boyfriend got up, stretching his arms high over his head and popping his neck before he got to his feet with a sigh. "Where are you going? Do you really have to leave?" you mumbled, the disappointment unmistakably in your voice. It had been like this for weeks now, where you two spent a passionate night before he slipped out without a trace to find him all day.
"Mhm," he sighed, leaning down to you again to catch your lips once more. "You know how much it pains me, but I got to go before it's too late. Wouldn't want to awaken the monster in me, would you?"
He said it as if it was a challenge, and you giggled, thinking it was just another innuendo. "Wouldn't let me get out of bed, huh?"
"Oh, I'd gobble you up, darling."
Laughing, he stepped away, putting his shirt back on as he dipped into the bathroom of your small apartment real quick. The moment he disappeared from view, you couldn't help your expression from showing the disappointment and frustration you felt. It had been almost a month now, and you two never went out together in the daylight, never saw each other except when he picked you up for a night out in the club or came to watch a movie that was never finished.
It felt more like you were his friend-with-benefits—you didn't even know his last name.
As if you were the other one.
The thought made your blood boil. You weren't proud of it, but in a moment of jealous weakness, you had checked his phone, seeing countless messages where he told people how excited he was to hang out and make appointments with them while he never seemed to do the same for you. It didn't seem like he had another partner in his life, but how could you be sure when he played the role of the mysterious night visitor rather than your wholesome boyfriend?
Was he ashamed of you? Were you not good enough? Did he just keep you around for his entertainment? The questions plagued you as he never gave you a good answer. He wouldn't even entertain the discussions, only vowing that he loved you and his work was very important and took him all day.
So why was he meeting other people then?
There wasn't much time once he said his goodbyes, his kisses nothing short of loving and sweet. For a possible cheater, he was good at what he was doing. You only had a few seconds of self-doubt about what you were going to do before you were out of the door and hunting after him, long coat and sunglasses on in true stalker-fashion. It felt wrong, and you hated yourself for mistrusting him so much, but at the same time, you two were still practically strangers, knowing so little while still being so in love. A little craziness was inevitable, right?
However, as your boyfriend turned from the main street into the shady path leading to the central park of your town, you suddenly felt a sense of panic. What if you accidentally got involved with some shady fellow? What if this was a drug deal or worse? Why would someone need to go to a park in the middle of the night?
You had assumed he was leaving you alone every night to hook up with other people or go back to an unsuspecting partner, but as you gently brushed through the thicket, trying to stay out of the moonlight that would give away your presence, you suddenly weren't so sure anymore.
You could still see him as he walked further into the park. It should have been your sign to leave, get away while you could, and cut all contact... but you had already gotten this far. Following closely by hiding behind trees and the occasional park bench, you tracked him through the greenery. Once, he almost seemed to spot you, but you ducked into a bush just in time, regretting this move only when the thicket tore at the fabric of your coat, making unnecessary noise. Still, you managed to stay hidden, heart racing and always alert.
Eventually, your boyfriend sat on a park bench in front of a pond. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, and you were about to call this mission off, seeing how relaxed he was. It was as if he simply enjoyed hanging out in the park at night like a semi-normal person would.
But footsteps crunching over the gravel made you cower lower, your eyes fixating on the person approaching. Your boyfriend lifted a hand in greeting, and the person sprinted forward, hood falling off her head, revealing a cruel sight.
Because you knew the woman your boyfriend was meeting.
Your bully.
Heart sinking into your stomach, you watched as she jumped into his arms, giggling as your boyfriend spun her around. The only reason for them to meet you could think of was that the two set you up, made you fall in love with him so they could laugh at you behind your back. It really broke your heart to watch them cuddle on the park bench, your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—ruffling her hair.
You didn't want to stay to see this.
It was a good thing you found out, but with tears filling your eyes, you knew you had to leave before you were discovered or hurt yourself more by watching them. This trainwreck wasn't one you should have been observing, and it hurt enough that you wanted to never come out of your home again.
"You know, [Name]?" your boyfriend suddenly asked, the sound of your name on his tongue so bittersweet.
"Who? Oh..." your bully replied, thinking for a moment. "What about them? They are a loser, not worth your time."
"Is that so? Because they told me about you, lots of things."
"You're ruining the mood. Isn't it enough that I agreed to meet you here? It's so creepy! Did you know how they found quite a few bodies lately around this park? We should go clubbing or to a bar, why are we even here talking about some loser?"
Your bully let out a frustrated sigh, throwing her hair back over her shoulder before leaning close. "You know we never even kissed until now. Don't you think it's such a waste of those lovely lips to talk when we could make out instead?"
Letting out a dry laugh, he didn't seem flattered at all as she tried to avert the topic of you. Good, you thought, because you really weren't up to hearing about yourself from the bully and the traitor. Even so, you couldn't move. As if you were frozen to the spot.
"Good thing you mentioned that. I prefer not making my partner worried about whether I'm cheating or not."
"Partner?" your bully spat, scrunching up her nose, the ugliness of her expression matching her personality. "Don't tell me you're fucking with that. I thought you had better taste when you asked me out to dinner the last few times. Thought you'd appreciate beauty more--"
Her words were cut off as your boyfriend's hand wrapped around your throat. He brought her face closer to his, sounding more enraged than you had ever heard him before. "How dare you talk about them like that. They are perfect. Wonderful. Special. It's filth like you that needs to be taken out so my love can be happy."
The two rose from their seat, and you watched as your boyfriend seemingly effortlessly hoisted your bully into the air. Something felt off, and you couldn't look away as you watched the clothes on his body tearing apart, your bully struggling as his fingers stretched and wrapped around her neck completely. She let out mewls and gasps as she tried to kick him, tried to make him stop, but the horror was in both of your eyes as you watched your boyfriend transform.
Skin turned into fur, mouth into snout. His posture changed as his body grew taller, monstrous, into a beast. Part of you couldn't believe your own eyes as you watched him take on canine features as if you were in a movie, watching a werewolf transform, but by the way, your bully was struggling harder, unable to scream, you realized it was real, and she saw it too.
Horrified, you could only clasp your hands over your mouth, containing your shivers. Doggish years popped up from his head, twisting and turning towards your direction. You had to be quiet, undetected, or surely, you'd be the next prey of that monster. His snout opened, long, sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight, and you heard the gurgled scream of your bully before the beast pounced, biting between her neck and shoulder.
Your bully was still kicking and trying to break loose as blood gushed from the bite, her sounds turning into gurgles before everything quieted out, and she stopped moving. Even though your eyes were so wide open, you couldn't believe them at all, couldn't understand what just happened, only listening to the sound of fluids gushing out and dripping to the floor, bones breaking beneath the claws and massive jaw, and eventually, her body simply slipping from his grip, seemingly meaningless.
"[Name], [Name], [Name]. Isn't it so impolite to eavesdrop on others?" the monster suddenly grumbled. Its massive head swung in your direction, eyes scanning from one side of the thicket to the other before finally settling on you despite the greenery. "I didn't want you to find out like this. We could have talked about it some other time—like on a picnic!"
Putting his feet into motion, you were still completely frozen as you watched the creature march towards you. If this was a bad dream, now would have been a good moment to wake up. You two held the eye contact, even as you watched the grotesque features slowly turn back into a human, first the head, then arms.
"Well, it is your business, too, I'll admit. I've been doing this all of you. Was I not a good boy, taking care of all these mean people for you?"
Until now, you had never taken much notice of the people you disliked disappearing. If anything, you were glad they weren't around anymore. But now that he was pointing it out, a cold shudder ran down your spine, guilt overcoming you.
"They were in the way of your happiness, and I need a good meal every now and then. We both got something out of it, you sweet, sweet thing—look at you cowering. Are you scared? Of the big, bad wolf? What if I'm a nice wolf, will you come to me then? Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you, I'll take care of all that try."
Even with the words so sweetly murmured, you didn't dare move and fall for his promises. He was a fucking werewolf or any other kind of monster! But werewolf made the most sense. It also explained so much more, for example, how he knew exactly where you were. It only made you wonder if he knew all along. Let himself be exposed to you. Wanting for you to see this.
See him.
Now back in his human form, he reached into the bush, parting it aside to reveal your cowering form. His grin widened as he watched you trembling in fear from him, this... other side of him probably enjoying a primal thrill at the prey he had caught.
"What... what are you? You had those big ears-"
"-to hear your thrilling pulse, darling."
"And your eyes were-"
"-so I could spot you and make sure you'd not hurt yourself, sweetheart."
"A-And your mouth was... you know."
At this, he simply grinned, and you gulped down any other word. "Gobble you up," he said earlier that night. It had not just been a sexy innuendo.
"Are you... going to kill me, too?" you asked woefully, feeling like your fate had already been sealed.
"You? Now, now, who'd do such a thing."
Clicking his tongue at you as if you had just insulted him, your boyfriend stepped through the gap in the bush, crossing over into your hideout, destroying every safety this thicket had provided with his presence. He leaned down, picking you up with what you now knew was unnatural strength and holding your bridal style as he carried you back towards the pond. The moonlight shined down on you two, the reflection on the water's surface blinding you. But it wasn't enough to make you forget about the body that laid just below you.
"I'm glad you could make it here, though. I wanted to enjoy the full moon with you for so long, you know? But you did interrupt my meal, how are you going to make up for it?" he asked, not a hint of seriousness in his voice. As if this was all a game rather than the brutal reality you had only just learned about.
"I--" you sputtered, unable to answer that. Your mind kept coming back to realize you were the next best meal to have and served as if on a silver platter as he carried you.
"Juuust joking," your boyfriend laughed. "How about we go home and order some late-night food? I'm so hungry!"
Ignoring the dead body on the floor, he merely stepped over it, chatting about whether he wanted burger or tacos as if he hadn't just revealed himself to be a fairytale monster and killed someone.
"Or, you know, we could make this fun. You could run, and I could catch you, have a nibble of those sweet cheeks; how about it?"
You felt the blood drain from your face, and his grin diminished as he watched you cower into yourself, his grip tightening around as you grew tense. "Okay, too early, got it."
"You're really not going to kill me?"
"Nope. Can't. You're my mate. You're what all werewolves crave—what I crave. Your happiness is all that satisfies me."
"Then... you'll let me go if I want to?"
His expression turned into a frown, and he shook his head. "There are rules," he said factually. "I'll explain them to you someday. But basically, they don't allow us to tell people about our existence. If I let you go, you might tell someone and--"
"I won't! I promise! I'll take your secret to the grave, please!" you pleaded, and your boyfriend grimaced, looking unhappy at your determination.
"And even more importantly-" he continued, raising his voice threatingly to make you behave. "-they teach us to never let our mates go, as there won't be another one. And living without is torture for a werewolf."
"Never?" you whined softly, and the smile returned to his face. Now he looked almost completely back to normal, like the sweet boyfriend you fell in love with. But you couldn't ignore the wolf in a sheep's skin—not with the blood of your bully still clinging to his chest.
"Never," he assured you firmly, and you knew instinctively that he meant it.
#Monstober 2024#werewolf#werewolves#yandere werewolf#monster#yandere monster#yandere!monster#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere tw#yandere fanfiction#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#yandere drabbles#yandere oneshot#yandere stories#yandere writing#yandere imagines
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ᥫ᭡. THAT’S MY SISTER YOU BITCH
Summary: Despite Sarah and Rafe’s volatile relationship, that’s your sister.
Warnings: Violence, illusions to sex, swearing.
You had a great day so far. You'd woken up to Rafe in between your legs, waking you up in the best way possible before he made you both breakfast as you watched him from the island. Sometimes you just liked to ponder on how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like Rafe. To everyone else, you were far from lucky but you liked it that way- knowing only you got the real Rafe Cameron.
Now, you were on your way back from grocery shopping, planning to make Rafe a romantic meal when he arrived back from work. Blasting music from your car speakers, you were completely in the zone. Until you drove up to the City Hall, glancing ahead you saw Kelce's red truck, which you thought nothing of until you saw him and his idiotic friends surrounding John B and Sarah.
Alarmed, you pulled up next to the truck, gathering the attention of everyone. Despite being a kook yourself, you were far different from the rest of them. You didn't care about pogues, to you they were like anyone else, in fact often you preferred the pogues in the Outer Banks to the kooks. Rafe's circle exclusively consisted of kooks, meaning you often received a lot of respect from kooks even though you spent a lot of your time arguing with them. Rafe didn't mind it, you were his girlfriend and lover, so if you wanted to yell he wouldn't stop you.
"Problem?" You asked, slamming your car door shut behind you. Just as Sarah hit the ground. Immediately you rushed towards Sarah. Yeah, Rafe and Sarah had problems they needed to get past but to you, Sarah was still as important as she was 2 years ago. You were proud of her for finding her true love and true friends, and you always let her know that you would always be there for her. And this time was no exception. Putting two and two together, you saw Ruthie standing much closer to Sarah than the other kooks who looked at her in shock.
They all stood stunned at your arrival, to be honest, you were probably the worst possible person to show up at that exact moment. Everyone knew your opinions on the Pogues were far more empathetic than the other kooks. "No, no problem" Kelce muttered, beginning to pull Ruthie and the others back from Sarah and John B, to which they happily obliged. Not on your watch.
"Oh no, don't stop on my accord guys. Please whatever you were going to do next. Do it." Walking over to them, Ruthie stood stunned at your arrival. Since she started dating Topper, you got a lot of joy out of berating her, publically. For once, she didn't back down at your words. "She needs to watch herself. She pushed me first, it was self-defence." Ruthie said, glancing behind you to see John B pulling Sarah to her feet.
Snorting you replied, "Ruthie, I'm not Shoupe. Don't start pleading your case, I don't care." She stalled at your response, for a moment thinking that you were on her side for pushing Sarah before you pulled her back to reality. Walking closer to her, edgingly slow, you pressed, "You think you're all big and mighty for pushing Sarah? She's 19 Ruthie, you're what? 21? Don't you think you should play with someone your own size?"
Behind you, John B and Sarah smirked at the group. Unbeknownst to you, Sarah was pregnant and John B was far too occupied to make sure Sarah was okay than to pick a fight with Kelce and his goons today. But you happily would, and even better so because who was going to fight back against the kook princess? Definitely not these ones.
“Well?” You pushed, as you stood toe to toe with Ruthie. You were growing impatient, Rafe would have finished work by now meaning that soon he’d come looking for you- and you’d rather give Ruthie a good couple punches before Rafe showed up.
“Okay times up.” Before she could even think, your fist sent her backwards onto the floor, just how Sarah had been when when you arrived. Groaning, she lifted her hands to cover her nose, assumably bleeding- hopefully broken if Rafe’s self defence lessons had done some good. “Oh my god- I think you broke my nose. You bitch.” She shrieked, pulling her hands away to reveal blood beginning to pour from her nose.
Ruthie was nothing but a bully, a bully you’d had enough of tormenting the island. Your legs either side of her chest you crouched over her, “Don’t worry you still look just as bad as before.” You muttered as you flew your fist back into her face that she left unguarded. Idiot. Her screaming began again, as you moved off from her, deciding that your two punches had done enough damage. Wow, you’d really have to thank Rafe for those lessons.
“Just wait until Topper hears about this, he will deal with you.” One of the other kooks muttered from behind Kelce. “Yeah I’m sure Topper will be sure to deal with me.” You laughed, Topper wouldn’t touch a hair on your arm as long as you were dating Rafe- everyone knew that.
“You want to fuck with someone, not Sarah.” You spat at them, watching Ruthie sadly pull herself to her feet, with the help of no one. “That’s my sister you bitch. Now fuck off.” At your command, Kelce briskly walked back over to his truck, as the others followed just as fast, allowing you to turn back to John B and Sarah.
You were greeted to their smiling faces, both as grateful as each other. But you noticed, a twinge of emotion still lingering on Sarah’s face. Hearing you call her your sister in combination with her pregnancy hormones, was due to set her off to cry. Before she could get out any words, you spoke for her. “You are my sister regardless of whatever is going on between you and Rafe. You’re family.” Turning to John B, you continued, “That extends to you, hubby.” You winked looking down at the ring on his finger.
With a red blush covering their faces, they praised you in thank yous. “Don’t need to thank me for doing something I’ve been wanting to do for months.” Glancing back to see the red truck had disappeared.
“Now, you can thank me for warning you that Rafe will be here any minute and I’m not sure you want to see him.”
—————————
“Baby, please be more careful next time.” Rafe muttered, as he wrapped your knuckles in bandages. He was more than shocked to find you outside the city hall- alone- but with bloody knuckles. Only with the explanation, that you had an altercation with Ruthie, surprisingly over Sarah. He was confused to say the least, he wasn’t even aware that Ruthie had a problem with his little sister. But the more he thought about it, of course she did- Topper still hadn’t gotten over her.
“In fact, there will be no next time. Ever.” Kissing your knuckles, he pulled you onto his chest as he lied back on your shared king bed. Stroking your hair, he let his mind wonder. Should he have been there to protect Sarah? But they hadn’t had a good relationship in years, he couldn’t just suddenly start caring for her. He also couldn’t let you get into situations that could get you hurt over protecting Sarah.
You noticed his body still and you knew instantly his mind was wondering thinking about Sarah. Without moving your head from his chest you spoke, “Rafe. I love Sarah. I know you have a difficult relationship at the moment and whilst you can’t protect her I will.” Letting the silence sit between you for a moment, you decided to continue.
“She’s our only family, Rafe.” He didn’t move, but you both knew how right you were. She was all you had left. “I know baby, I know.” He whispered, laying a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his mind slip back into imagining how he can rectify this broken relationship with his sister.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe fanfiction#rafe x you#rafe cameron x female reader
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Hair
Irene Paredes x Child!Reader
Summary: You help your Mami when she gets a red
You’ve travelled with Mami for once.
Mama is at home with your little brother Matteo but you’re not really worried.
You’re a good traveller. Mami says so because you were born when she used to play in France so you’re used to going back and forth between countries. You know how to amuse yourself by playing or doing your homework or your reading.
Mami says you’re very responsible.
Since coming home to Spain and to Barcelona, you’ve not travelled as much. You’ve stayed with Mama at home even though travelling and going on planes is much more interesting.
You don’t know why Mami decided you could come with her this time but you have and you’re happy.
Or you were happy until Mami got her red card.
You’re not quite sure what happened apart from the fact that her leg was too high.
You know all about high legs.
At Taekwondo, your teacher explains all about how head shots are very dangerous because the head is a very important part of your body and that’s why people wear caps to protect them during sparring.
You’re still kind of small (but growing all the time!) so you’re not allowed to do any head shots of your own. But you know they’re dangerous and you know Mami is not going to argue her card even if someone else will.
“Mami?”
“Go back to the bench, squirt,” Irene says as she breezes past you to the locker rooms.
When you were younger, that used to work but you’re nearly eight now and Mama says you’re moving under your own power so you think that means that Mami’s orders don’t work on your anymore.
“No!” You say stamping your foot right in the tunnel.
Irene scrubs a hand over her face as she turns around to face you. “I don’t have the patience to deal with a tantrum right now, squirt. Go back to the bench and finish watching.”
You stamp your foot again. “I’m not having a tantrum, you’re having a tantrum!”
Irene sighs. “If you come with me now, you’re not allowed back out. We stay in the locker room. But you can keep watching the match if you head back outside.”
Your foot goes again. “With you.”
You’d inherited her stubbornness, Irene notes. Her hair. Her eyes. The tight set of her jaw. And her stubbornness.
Irene holds her hand out for you. You take it.
You’re a different beast to your brother.
Matteo is still small, still practically a baby. She and Lucia had been worried about the age gap between you both. At nearly eight, you towered over him with your toys and your rambunctious nature.
You were not unlike Lucy and Keira’s (and increasingly Ona's) Pup but maybe a bit lower energy now that you’re gotten older. More disciplined is what Lucia would say, now that you’ve had your energy redirected into Taekwondo. Disciplined and strangely emotionally intelligent.
Irene supposes she should pat herself on the back with that. She’d never agreed with hitting kids even if it’s a little scuff on the back of the head to redirect them. No whacks, no spanks, no hits.
She talked your through your emotions and now that you were older, you were able to talk her through them too.
You hold her hand now as she walks back to the locker room.
“Mami, are we showering?”
“Aren’t you a bit too old to shower with me, squirt?” She teases, grabbing her toiletries and a towel. “You’re nearly eight now.”
You puff out your chest at the reminder. “I’m not going in with you! Just wanted to know.”
“I’m going to shower. You can take a shower if you want but you have to come into mine if you’re going to be washing your hair.”
You tug at the end of your braid.
Lucia likes your hair long and Irene has to admit that she does too.
You’d come out with a full head of hair, screaming and crying your arrival to the world as Irene panted from all the energy she’d spent pushing you out. Screaming, crying, with thick hair as you were gently rest on her chest.
Your hair had remained just as thick as then, growing quickly to the point that regular trips to get it cut were needed.
But washing it was always a challenge. Lots of shampoo. Lots of conditioner. Lots of time spent in the tub trying to get it all washed.
It’s part of the reason why it’s done in the morning too. You hate the hairdryer but you hate sleeping with wet hair even more so washing it is always done in the morning so it can air dry before bed.
“Wash my hair?” You ask and Irene nods.
“You’ll have to shower with me then if we’re washing your hair. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Alright, squirt. Let’s go.”
Irene’s original plan was to drown herself in the shower, to stay there until the match was over and she could finally face her teammates again. The red card was justified, she knows that but it doesn’t mean there isn’t still a bit of a sting.
She was happy to leave you on the bench, safe with the others so Irene could wash away her anger and resentment while you were occupied.
But now you’re here with her, asking to have your hair washed and looking up at her like you just know she needs something like this to keep occupied.
It’s an easy routine to get through, to lather her hands with shampoo and massage it into your scalp. To wash it all out before moving onto the conditioner.
Two rounds of conditioner and you look up at her with a smile.
“I can wash your hair now, Mami?” You ask and Irene laughs, pushing away the wet strands from your face.
“I think you’re a little small to be doing that, squirt.”
You puff out your cheeks. “Are you sure? I’ve definitely grown since Mama last measured me!” To demonstrate, you stretch up to your tiptoes and reach as high as you can.
“Maybe when you’re taller,” Irene says placidly,” Come on. Grab your towel and we’ll get out.”
Irene’s just gotten yours and her own clothes on by the time that everyone else has arrived.
“Whoa,” Jenni says as she comes in,” You’re dripping everywhere, squirt!”
Irene sighs as she turns around. “You should have seen just how wet it was earlier. Absolutely everywhere.”
“We can tell,” Codi snickers,” There’s a river to the showers.”
“I’ve braided it back again,” Irene offers up weakly as she watches Alexia crouch in front of you.
“You know you’ll have to sleep with that wet hair,” Alexia reminds you.
You giggle. “No, I won’t. We call Mama and Matteo tonight. Mama will see my hair. She won’t let Mami put me to bed with wet hair. She says it’s naughty.”
“Devious,” Alexia says approvingly.
You high five her and look back at Irene, who shakes her head fondly at you.
“We’ll be having words about your eversion to the hairdryer.” She wiggles her finger teasingly at you and you grin.
You stick your tongue out. “You have to talk to Mama first.”
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Kill Licenses
Stargirl was excited! Captain Marvel had just offered to let her fight crime with him in Fawcett. The man was like a big brother to everyone. That included her. He was super nice, was normally the person who first stepped up to diffuse a situation, and overall just a big teddy bear of a man. So it was a little bit a of a surprise when she saw him snap a rapist’s neck like a twig.
Marvel: *drops the body, muttering something about paperwork*
Stargirl: *gobsmacked*
Marvel: *looks over to her for a second before doing a double take* “Oh my gods I forgot you were here!” *sounds horrified*
Stargirl: “You just killed a man!”
Marvel: “I know- I know!” *leads her away from the body* “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” *sounds completely ashamed*
Stargirl: “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You killed a rapist. That’s one less evil in the world, but my question is how are you gonna get away with this?! Cap, you’re gonna go to jail!”
Marvel: “Ah… Well, no. I have a license to kill.”
Stargirl: “Wait, you can actually have one of those?”
Marvel: “Yeah, uh me, and most of the other Fawcett heroes have one. We’ve all had them since the sixties and had to get them renewed a while back. It’s not a bad thing to have for situations like this.”
Stargirl: “…Can I have one?”
Marvel: “Yes? No? I don’t know? You should in my opinion. It’s a good safety net for if you accidentally kill a villain. You just fill out some paperwork and you’ll be safe. Do you want one…?”
Stargirl: “Yes.” *immediate answer*
Marvel: “Are you sure? I mean, you’re a teenager, so you might need a parent to sign or something.”
Stargirl: “Well, I don’t have a parent right now, but I do technically have a temporary guardian at the moment.” *eyes him*
Marvel: “No… you’re not seriously suggesting…?”
And that’s how Marvel ended up taking Stargirl to a secret government base so she could get a kill license. Stargirl got a stellar recommendation from the Captain and passed with flying colors.
As they’re leaving the base…
Marvel: “Okay, so we need to lay some ground rules.”
Stargirl: “Ground rules?”
Marvel: “Yeah, ground rules. Now I know you’re not the type of kid to go around killing people all willy-nilly, but I’ll say it just in case, don’t go killing people all willy-nilly.”
Stargirl: “Well, duh, I’m not dumb.”
Marvel: “I know you aren’t. And now onto the actually important rule. Under any circumstances, do not kill around other heroes. That’s how Huntress got kicked out of the Justice League after all.”
Stargirl: “I can’t even do it around you?”
Marvel: “Well, I guess you could. And I guess you could do it around the other Fawcett heroes, but just make sure not to do it around heroes who don’t have a license, okay? I don’t wanna get in trouble, and I doubt you wanna get in trouble too.”
Stargirl: “Gotcha.”
Marvel: “Nice. Now that that’s out of the way, wanna go for victory ice cream since you got your license?”
A solid four months passed after this incident. The two forgot about it. They were chilling. Then, Courtney forgot that her stepdad didn’t know that she could legally kill a villain, fill out some paperwork, and face no repercussions.
S.T.R.I.P.E.: “YOU TOOK MY STEPDAUGHTER OUT TO GET A KILL LICENSE?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Marvel: “Nothing! I didn’t think it was a bad thing!”
S.T.R.I.P.E.: “She’s sixteen. She sliced a man’s head off. CLEAN. With practiced precision. She doesn’t even have a drivers license! What in hell would make you think it’s a good idea to give her a kill license?!”
Marvel: “Okay, her slicing off someone’s head isn’t my fault. I didn’t teach her that, and the guys who gave her the license didn’t either.”
S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Then who did??”
Marvel: “I don’t know! Maybe she’s just bloodthirsty?”
Stargirl: “No I’m not?” *sounds slightly offended*
Marvel: *ignores her* “Look, the point is, I’m sorry for not telling you but please, please, pretty please don’t tell Batman.”
S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Why?”
Marvel: “Oh come on. He’s super anti-kill. If you told him he’d have me removed from the Justice League almost instantly.”
S.T.R.I.P.E.: “Maybe you should be removed! You don’t just give a kid the okay to kill someone.”
Marvel: “I’m not giving her an okay to do anything. I only wanted her to have it as a safety net. I promise.”
It took a lot of convincing for Pat not to squeal to Batman, but thankfully, they got it in the end. Though, the man still ended up chewing the two out.
Inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s repost on my We Thought You Died?! post :) Thanks for the inspo!
#billy batson#shazam#dc captain marvel#captain marvel dc#fawcett city#fawcett#fawcett comics#dc stargirl#courtney whitmore#dc stripe#dc s.t.r.i.p.e.#patrick dugan#dc stripey
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forgive and forget (CL16)
✰ charles leclerc x reader ✰
summary → dating a formula one driver meant that your boyfriend would always be busy, but what you didn't expect was for him to forget your anniversary all together.
genre → angst but gets fluffier towards the end (very short drabble, self-indulgent)
word count → 1.3k words
author's note → honestly, i really like writing angst with charles, i'm sorry dahbdhanda. i just needed a break from writing something with any sort of plot, so enjoy <3
the thunder in the background snapped me from my trance, i've been lost in thought for awhile now. the sky's dark and the day was almost ending, and here i was sitting at the dinner table, alone with food all around me.
the rain was drizzling in monaco, and it fueled the sinking hole in my chest. i knew that charles was a busy man, but i didn't expect him to forget our anniversary together.
somehow, i didn't feel sad, or disappointed. i just felt numb. it hurt of course, seeing your own boyfriend forgetting about your anniversary, something i thought that we would both celebrate together, spend the day together, or maybe just sit in the quiet of our apartment, kissing and touching and ending the day together.
but the fact of the matter was, he was a formula one driver and i couldn't keep expecting him to be there when i wanted. it was a selfish want, and somehow i needed to understand that not all anniversaries can be celebrated, and not all of them will be remembered.
a sigh escapes my lips, i've been waiting for him to come home for four hours now. maybe it was time to let up. i gently took the plates of now cold food and shuffled into the kitchen, putting them into containers to store in the fridge, not wanting them to go to waste. i had lost my appetite in the process, not even touching my own plate of food.
when i was finished putting all of the food away in the fridge, the door of our apartment jingled, charles was home.
"amour, i'm home," his voice had rung out in the apartment as he entered our shared apartment, even though i felt upset, i couldn't help but smile at him, at least he came home, right?
i was never the one to yell, to throw a fit when he forgot about something. even if it was something as important as our anniversary, i always wanted to talk it out, even when it made me upset and charles would always appreciate it, he would always talk to me lovingly even when we had our arguments.
"you missed our anniversary, love," i told him gently as i walked up to him, wrapping my arms around his middle before leaving a kiss on his cheek, his face flashed from surprise to frustration all in one go, he closed the door behind him and sighed, he was angry at himself for forgetting, i could tell. the way his brows were furrowed and his shoulders tensed.
"i-... amour, i'm sorry. things have been hectic, the car is just so shit this season and i didn't mean to—"
i cut him off before he could ramble on about his work with a soft kiss to his lips, "it's okay, i'm not mad at you. i know how things are at work and i understand, i just feel a little hurt that you didn't call or text me at all," i explain to him and he closes his eyes before wrapping his arms around me, he held me close.
i could smell the faint scent of his cologne as we held eachother close, the domestic aspect of it all. waiting for him to come home, cooking dinner for our anniversary even though he forgot.
"how about i make it up to you?" charles asked as he opened his eyes back up, the pretty green orbs of his eyes staring lovingly into me, staring lovingly into my bare soul, "what do you want to do?"
"can you just drive me around in your noisy car?" i laugh as he smiled at my joke, all of his cars were sports cars and they were noisy by default. i had always complained about it but i could never be mad at his love for his team, "just spend the night together, driving in the dark of the night while we sit in each other's company."
charles pressed his forehead against mine, he breathed in before nodding, "i can do that for you, do you want to go now?" he left a kiss on my lips before i nodded.
it wasn't long before i was in the passenger seat and he was starting his car up, i hadn't been in this car yet. i knew that he got it as a gift for his win in austin, i had attended the race and he had excitedly told me about the car once we got home in monaco but i never got the chance to sit in it until now.
"this one is a bit noisier, amour. i apologize," charles had said when the engine rumbled to life, i had settled into the seat as he drove off into the night of monaco, his phone had connected to the bluetooth automatically and his playlist was in the background, serving good ambience in the car.
"i love spending time like this, just the two of us, not really driving to anywhere meaningful," i had spoken up, breaking the previous comfortable silence the both of us were in, charles glanced at me before humming a response, eyes back on the road shortly.
monaco was a small city, but i noticed that charles had taken a particularly familiar track, it was the monaco grand prix track, where he had won earlier this year.
"i'm sorry," another apology leaves his lips, i turn my head to look at him, he didn't have to apologize. i forgave him after he got home, but i appreciated it, "i should've paid more attention, i know how important dates are to you. i should've set a reminder."
"i told you that it's okay, i'm not holding anything against you," i tell him softly, his hand instinctively reaches out for my knee and i let him, setting my hand above his as his thumb gently caresses my knee.
the both of us had spent most of that night going in circles, going on the familiar monaco track, it was almost 3am when charles had decided to go back home. the night drive we spent together was nice, it was peaceful. i loved it.
it wasn't long after the both of us had settled into our apartment, getting ready for bed.
i had sat in my vanity, just doing skincare with charles opting to sit on the floor, his head laid on my lap as i went through the steps for my night routine, my hand periodically going down to pat his head.
"we can go for dinner tomorrow, i have nothing planned," charles mumbles, leaving a kiss on my thigh, i nod, dinner was fun, considering that today's was left untouched.
i could feel his head lift up from my thigh, so i looked down and i saw him staring up at me, with all the love in his eyes, i just smiled at him, "what's wrong love?"
"nothing, i just... i'm sorry. i feel bad. i love you— i love us. i just can't believe that i could forget our anniversary so easily like that," charles mumbled, i pet his head again, i had told him countless of times in the car ride that i didn't hold any ill-intent against him for forgetting. his job was demanding, and something like that could've easily slipped his mind.
although i did feel hurt, he's trying to make it up to the best of his abilities now, and that's all i could ask for.
"how many times have i told you to stop apologizing?" i had told him before standing up, he did the same and the both of us made our way to the bed, snuggling up against eachother.
my head was against his chest and his face was in my hair, softly breathing in and out. i could tell he was tired but still went out to drive with me anyway.
"i love you, amour."
"i love you too charles."
"let's go to dinner tomorrow, okay? i'll make it up to you," charles pressed a gentle kiss onto my forehead and i could only hum back in return, i had my eyes closed and i was close to drifting off to sleep considering it was nearing 4 am at this point.
"okay, goodnight. sleep well."
"goodnight to you too mon amour."
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x yn#leclarifies fics#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 x you#f1 x yn#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc angst
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Yeah! And it's not just that there are top surgery scars, but that your Rook can be transgender and that has weight in the narrative.
You can relate to and bond with characters by sharing your hurt, joy, and pride in being transgender. There are certain romances where you have the important conversation of "I want this with you, but I need to know if you know who I am and if that's a deal breaker."
The moment where Rook unpacks their belongings and can say how they feel about who they see in the mirror was the first time in any game where I got to be trans, be proud, and have it mean something.
And the timeliness of it. It means so much to me that I got to be transgender and a hero. I got to build a family and support them through their own hurts and joys. I got to be the man that defeated the gods and helped the world become better.
This game deeply moved me. I cried all the way through act 3. In grief, in joy, in love, in embodiment. I got to be strong and save the world.
I needed that right now. In reality, I can't go on a linear journey and fight a battle to make peace and banish evil. But getting to see a Rook so much like myself fight and keep fighting and win? It gives me hope.
I don't know if I'll see a better future in my lifetime, but I'm going to keep fighting for one. For my friends who have had their cultures violated and erased. For my friends who have to hide themselves to survive. For my friends who are realizing that the very thing they worshipped actually wounded the world and oppressed it's people. For my friends who are afraid of dying and being forgotten. I'll fight, I'll struggle, I'll remember. Because someone has to and I'm here, so I'll do it. And the people I love will do it with me.
Is this game perfect? No. Is it beautiful and hopeful and the game I needed in this horribly bleak moment? Absolutely. I'm so grateful to the writers, devs, actors, and artists who made it happen.
And yeah, I know it's a game. It's entertainment. And not everyone has to find meaning to enjoy things. But I found meaning and I know there are other folks out there who did as well. And I see them and I hope they see me.
Dragon age having top surgery scars as an option in the character creator is like. Actually groundbreaking and I think we need to talk about it
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YOU & ME
Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
Summary: After returning to OBX, after the events of the past four years have cooled off, JJ realizes it's about time he asks you a very important question.
Warning: JJ deserves a happy ending! Season 4 spoilers.
word count. 1k || masterlist
JJ found you out on the dock, leaning over the railing and looking at something in the water. He smiled to himself as he strolled toward you, running his fingers over the ring he stuffed in his pocket.
“Find any treasure down there?” JJ asked as he approached you.
You threw him a look over your shoulder. “Not funny,” you replied, but there was a smile on your lips that told him otherwise.
The Pogues had rightfully retired from their treasure-hunting days. Too many close calls and they weren’t willing to risk it anymore. They didn’t need to, not after finally cashing out for the last time. JJ, with your guidance and gentle threats, promised to be responsible with his share this time around. For the first time in his life, he saw a future illuminated brightly ahead of him. He had you, his friends, and even a God-daughter now. While his risky tendencies weren’t completely put to bed, he was comfortable where he stood and finally felt like he could relax.
All in all, he was happy. But there was still something he had yet to do.
He slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side as you both gazed at the water. As much as he had once enjoyed action and adventure, JJ partially used it as an escape. He felt like he had been running from something his whole life, trying to make sense of why he was the way he was. He used to think that, if he never slowed down, nothing would have the chance to hurt him too much. But then he found a family within his friends and a reason to stop running within you. He didn’t need to escape anymore or run. He didn’t need to make sense of anything anymore. JJ Maybank finally had everything he had been looking for. His world made sense for the first time, and he had no intention of screwing that up.
“You okay?” you asked softly, reaching up and brushing a hand across his cheek.
“Yeah, just thinkin’.”
“Uh-oh,” you teased, moving to stand in front of him. You hugged him lightly, peering at him with furrowed brows. “Thinkin’ about what?”
JJ leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You.”
“And what about me?” Your breath was warm against his face, competing against the cool breeze off the water. The distant laughter of his friends sounded from up the dock, where they all sat around, eating and cooing at little baby Routledge.
The worst years of his life, only peppered with good from his Pogues, felt like lifetimes behind him. All of the pain he experienced faded like his scars. He only had the good parts now, and there wasn’t a chance on Earth he’d let them slip away.
“I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” JJ said, hesitant not because he was unsure, but because there was still a fear in the far depths of his mind that you’d leave him. It was stupid, you had told him that a million and three times, but he couldn’t help the faint voice in the back of his head pestering him in a whisper.
You silently waited for him to continue. As he worked up the courage, he closed his eyes for just a second, picturing the same little dream he’d created in his head not long after meeting you.
“We’ve got a pretty good thing goin’, huh?” he started.
A breathy laugh fell from your lips. “I’d say so.”
“Right, and I, um, I don’t really want it to end, you know?”
You leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his nose. “I don’t plan on it ending, JJ. It’s you and me, remember?”
He did; he remembered the promise you made not long after you first met. It started off as a pack between friends, but it morphed into something deeper. You and him. If he had anything, he had that to hold on to.
“Yeah,” he whispered, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the ring he had stolen a while back with the intention of, one day, slipping it on your finger. Leaning back from you, he held up the ring between two fingers, letting the dainty silver shine in the growing moonlight. “You and me. Forever, maybe?”
It took a moment for realization to dawn on you, but it struck with force. Your eyes blew wide, and your mouth fell open in a humorous and bewildered laugh. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
JJ nodded, sheepishly using his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I probably should have gotten down on one knee, right? To be fair, it’s my first time.” He went to lower himself onto the dock, but you stopped him, cupping his face in your hands.
“And it’s perfect,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes. “I would love to marry you, JJ Maybank.”
He felt like he was going to cry too from the pure excitement and love that swelled inside his chest. Blinking back his own happy tears, he took your hand and slid the ring on your finger. It wasn’t some extravagant engagement ring, but it fit like a glove on your finger like it had been made for you. The smile on your face was enough confirmation that you liked it.
You kissed him, the warm metal of the ring pressed against his cheek. It was a feeling he was looking forward to getting used to. To kiss you forever, until you’re old and gray and yelling at kids to get off your lawn. JJ used to have a hard time looking past eighteen, trying to figure out what he’d become if he made it that far. Would he be locked up like every adult in his life used to tell him? Would he end up like his father or the man he used to think was his father?
But he didn’t have to worry anymore, about any of it. He made it past eighteen and a different path awaited him, a good one, a happy one.
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Drunken first goal celebrations
(Jude Bellingham one-shot)
Summary: Jude scores his first goal of the season, celebrates with his team and then with his girlfriend. Fluff & SMUT.
As the ball moved towards the net, past the goalie, the world stood still for Jude in those split seconds.
The deafening noise of the Bernabeu faded in the background, as did the sounds of his team-mates calling out his name.
All he fixated on was the sight of that ball at the back of the net. Something that was a common occurrence for him last season yet was so hard to come by this year.
It felt like his first goal all over again.
The overwhelming feeling was relief. The curse seemed to be broken.
And then his teammates jumped on him and got him out of his reverie.
Rest of the match was a dream. Madrid had won convincingly after a long long time. Hope was coming back to the fans and in the dressing room. All was not lost in the season, not yet.
Vini knew what that goal meant to Jude, as did the rest of the team. Special cuddles were awarded to Jude in the dressing room to celebrate his moment. Even though it was Vini’s hattrick, the team very much wanted it to be Jude’s moment. They knew how crucial it was for his confidence.
A special after party was arranged at Vini’s house. Filled with tequila and euphoria. Up next was international break so they had the luxury to let loose tonight. And let loose they did. The season had barely given them moments to celebrate and tonight felt like an inflection point of sorts. Jude wanted to soak in this moment.
In all honesty, Jude wanted to be somewhere else right now. With her. In her arms, as she spoilt him rotten. But Ananya had insisted he celebrated with the team first. That she would be waiting for him once he’s done. That this team bonding was important.
And, as always, she was right. His wise girlfriend always knew the right thing to do.
An hour into the party (or maybe 2 hours, he couldn’t tell anymore), Jude decided he was done being away from her. He called his trusted chauffeur to take him to his happy place. Agnes knew exactly where that was, and helped him walk up the stairs so he doesn’t cause much ruckus and draws attention to himself. The man knew how that would get his boss in trouble with his girlfriend. Jude kept patting the cheeks of the poor man, while Agnes rang the doorbell and waited to hand him over safely (& quickly).
Roma answered the door, and Jude pulled her into a bear hug, almost toppling her backwards. Agnes managed to shut the door behind them and bolted away quickly.
‘Romaaaaaa - what a funny name.’
‘Hello to you too, Jude.’
‘Sounds like Rome but also like mommmaaa???’
Roma struggled to break out of his hold as Jude swayed her from side to side.
‘If you hadn’t been instrumental in my team’s win tonight, I would have punched you for that.’
‘Punched me? With those baby hands? Haha so funny.’
‘ANANYA - come get your boy toy before I smack his pretty face.’
‘Aww you think I’m pretty?’
‘I think you need to let go of me RIGHT NOW. You’re stinking for crying out loud.’
Jude just tightened the hug. Roma was preparing to kick him when Ananya heard the commotion outside and stepped out of her room. In her night robe.
Jude’s grip loosened, and Roma managed to pull away from him, muttering under her breath as to how she needed a shower to get the stink off.
He pouted at the accusation, and walked into his girlfriend’s waiting arms.
‘Am I really stinking?’
He was. She wondered if he had remembered to take a shower at all amidst all the post-match madness.
‘Smells like you.’
His face split into a wide grin.
‘And you like it, yeah?’
‘I like everything about you.’
One could practically count all his 32 teeth with the way he was grinning.
‘You’re so cute. My doll is so cute.’
He sat down on the couch and pulled her into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek lovingly, as he buried his face in her chest. Clinging to her. Smelling her hair. Feeling the warmth of her soft body. The giddiness hitting him in loads.
‘Had fun at the party?’
He nodded enthusiastically. It had been forever since she had seen that kind of joy in his eyes. She kissed his cheek again but he turned around to catch her lips with his, giggling into the kiss. The sound making her heart leap with happiness.
‘I’m so proud of you baby.’
‘Been a while since I made you proud, yeah?’
The note of melancholy in his otherwise cheerful demeanour didn’t go unnoticed.
‘That’s not true. Your game is more than just scoring goals. You know that, Jude.’
He nodded again, just not as enthusiastically this time.
‘Heyy look at me. You make me proud every time you walk on to that field and give your all. Your drive and passion is what defines you, not your goals.’
‘Not everyone thinks that way. You’ve seen the memes.’
‘Yeah, well, now you’ve snatched even that joy from them. You’ve shut them up, like I knew you would. It was only a matter of time. I told you.’
‘How were you so sure?’
‘Coz you’re you. And you’re awesome.’
She held his face with both hands and connected their lips again for a comforting kiss.
‘Naaa you’re just sweet on me.’
‘That too. But you’re still awesome.’
The way he looked at her just then, with that puppy face and big doe eyes, made her heart flutter.
‘Say what you’re thinking. Don’t hold back.’
‘How do you know I…’
She cocked her head to the side, and he knew it was a stupid question. The girl knew him inside out.
‘I was starting to think if they were right. If I was actually a…..a…..’
‘One season wonder?’
She finished his sentence for him. When he kept looking away, she held his face and brought him back to face her.
‘It’s natural to have vulnerabilities and bad thoughts. But they go away much faster if you address them, and not sit on them.’
‘Were you a psychic in another life?’
‘Naaa I just pay attention when it comes to you.’
This time Jude leaned forward and she met him halfway for the kiss, tasting tequila on his tongue as he slipped it in her mouth.
‘Ummm how much did you drink?’
‘Not enough. Drink with me?’
Without waiting for a response, he pulled out a half-filled bottle of tequila from his backpack, took a big sip, grabbed her face and poured it from his mouth into hers.
The deep sudden intimacy of his action sent shivers down her back. She could tell his mood was shifting and they needed to move away from the living room to the privacy of her room.
Once inside, Jude shut the door with his foot and straightway moved to untie the knot of her robe, but she grabbed his hand mid-way.
He blinked at her in confusion, still wobbly on his feet, while she just batted her eyes at him.
Ananya looked him up and down - he was a proper meal right now in that brown leather jacket. Eyes deeper & softer in this drunken state, face extra puppy yet extra sexy, lips extra pouty as he tried to fathom her moves.
‘Wanna guess what I’m wearing underneath?’
That got his attention. Loud & clear.
His eyes roamed her form, searching for clues. The robe was hugging her curves tightly so he could tell there weren’t many layers or thick layers underneath. But he could’t make out her tits clearly so there had to be something underneath. He closed his eyes briefly, to visualise her body, and immediately knew the answer.
‘Lingerie.’
Ananya smiled appreciatively, leaning against her desk while crossing her legs, bringing his attention to her half-bare thighs.
‘Correct. Wanted to reward my baby. But but, which one?’
She cocked her head to the side again, letting her hair drop over her shoulder, testing all of Jude’s restraint.
How was he supposed to guess which one? He had bought many for her, and she had many of her own too.
‘Want a hint?’
‘Yes please.’
That came out far too desperately than what he originally intended.
Ananya lifted her robe a little from one leg, letting him have a peak of the light pink embellished fabric.
And Jude’s mouth hung open, drool coming out of it. He knew exactly which one it was - he had sent a pic to her once, wanting to buy it for her but she had said it was too slutty and barely covered any bits of her.
‘I…this the one I picked? During Euros?’
She smiled again and walked over to him, pressing his lips with her index finger. Jude had to remind himself to breathe.
‘Was saving it for a special occasion.’
‘Mmm-hmmmm.’
‘Are you up for it though?’
‘Huh?’
Jude couldn’t understand what had gotten into her or what language she was speaking tonight. It was burning him to the core though.
‘You know, with all the drinking, you think you can…’
That’s when it hit him. Hard.
Playtime was over. It was time to show her who the boss was.
Jude took off his jacket and threw it to the side, her eyes following the fabric with longing.
He walked over to her, grabbed her robe, pulled it open & yanked it off of her.
The sight of her in that barely there lingerie nearly made him cum in his pants.
He shoved two fingers in her mouth, driving them all the way in, making her choke on them. Then, he traced her bare skin with the tip of his wet fingers, leaving a trail of fire behind.
Starting to feel weak in the knees, she held his biceps for support. But Jude flipped her around, one arm around her boobs and the other sneaking between her legs. While his mouth made merry on her neck & shoulders.
‘Ju-de.’
Ananya threw her head back in pleasure, as he attacked multiple sensitive spots together.
Jude flipped her around again, moving his mouth to her cleavage, making her mewl.
He knew what she liked. For all her strong independent woman stuff, in bed she liked to be the girl. Wanting him to dominate, to manhandle her. To tell her what to do. And he loved doing that.
‘Good thing tomorrow’s a Sunday, yeah? Doll’s gonna need the rest.’
With that final warning, Jude threw her over his shoulder and on to the bed. He grabbed her leg, pulled her forward, flipped her on her hands and knees and stood behind her, admiring the view.
Given his pressing need, he didn’t even bother to fully take off his clothes. But took great pleasure in doing away with her skimpy lingerie. Lining himself up quickly, he thrusted inside without much preparation, trusting her to be wet & hot for him. And she was.
Lust & alcohol messed with his head, as did her sultry moans. He bent over her, one hand on her hips keeping them in place and the other spread across her belly possessively.
‘One day….I’m gonna put babies in here.’
She gasped loudly, going numb at his words, which only made him thrust harder till she screamed for him again.
‘You’ll take everything I give you, all of me. Like a good girl, yeah?’
The bed creaked violently under his rapid strokes.
‘SAY IT.’
‘Y-yes.’
He leaned down to bite her shoulder, as his hand mercilessly marauded her boobs & nipples, sliding back to her belly.
‘Even when this is big, I’d still have you like this. Any way I want. Till the very end.’
‘Jude please…’
‘Please what?’
‘I…I can’t…’
‘Yes you can. And you will.’
He had discovered another layer to his passion, which led to another layer of their pleasure. Her sweaty body soon went limp in his arms, and he followed shortly after.
As she rested on her back, sore & spent, Jude laid his head on her belly, kissing it lovingly, and his words rang in her mind. He looked up, locking eyes with her tired ones, a promise deep within them, and her hands fisted in the sheet, knowing he’ll do anything to follow through & to get what he wanted.
.............................................................................
A blurb, as promised :)
As always, your thoughts / comments are most welcome!
Characters from Star Crossed Lovers.
#jude bellingham#real madrid#bellingham#jude#jb5#jb#jude bellingham smut#jude fanfic#bellingham x reader#star crossed lovers#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham blurb#desi girl#jude bellingham angst#jude fic#jobe bellingham
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How do u think the Change God feels about ciu Sif?
The Change God still favors Mira but they have an... interesting view on Siffrin.
On the one hand, they are smug that Siffrin is putting them on the same level as the universe, bigger even! (the stars are inside their face, which implies the change god itself is the bigger circle) and they find it amusing how futile Siffrin's attempts to be given guidance are, on the other hand, wishcraft is strong enough to be a bother. The Change God doesn't like that instead of 'doing his own thing' Siffrin keeps using wishcraft to make his drawings and sculptures 'look good'.
They also feel little tugs when siffrin wishes for instructions or for them to "look after Mirabelle" or whatever little favor they need, they don't want to be a replacement for the universe thank you very much, they preffer to stay lazy and just watch.
Overall they do still like Siffrin though!! They like Siffrin a lot!! since he is very sweet to the people of the House, and tries to be kind to the change god even when they are confused or resentful. Is adorable to watch, and most important: Entertaining.
Siffrin doesn't fit the change belief, but he tries so hard that he ends up not fitting their old stars belief either, creating a strange mix of the two, their unorthodox way to follow the change belief amuses the Change God.
For example! Siffrin doesn't like the "for change you must DESTROY your old self" philosophy but his hesitance to embrace this makes him still change himself, just not in the most usual way "You spent MONTHS crafting me a knife? Of course, i will accept your gift with love and pride!! but... I can't stop using my nostalgic dagger that may or may not be from someone I used to love and forgot...I can't let go... so you know what? I will be a dual wieldier now!" and it is WAY HARDER to change a fighting style than switch knives, but they'll lose sleep trying anyways, until they do it.
tldr: change god likes siffrin! they like him quite a lot, all things considered
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Wait, I have so much to say about it that it frightens myself.
First: this is true. No arguing.
BUT
I have actively working to get rid of my self-sabotage habits for last 10 years. And oh, what a wonder: I got and still get accused for being selfish, full of myself, thinking too much of myself. Surprisingly none of people I have asked for help were angry or disappointed or whatever. But other people who were just bystanders - oh, they were. "So, other people must help you to live? Who even are you to expect that???"
I don't reject praise but if I seek attention for a work that is not absolutely perfect, guess what people say? Bad things. You wrote a book and want it to be reviewed? Well, from time to time book sounds like badly translated from English - for example this one phrase. Bro, it was this only phrase! I even thought about it and decided that as it was joke about publicity in USA diner, I can leave it! Why you concentrate on this one phrase that is not perfect? Because I HAVE to be perfect to be good?
No one actually says bad things about me if I say no. BUT. If I'm not active, not on the picture, if I take care of MY need to be alone and rest, no one remembers me. Isolating myself when hurt? Not exactly, I am isolated to take care of my needs, but if I seek attention and help when hurt, most people are: "Nope. To say good things when asked is not sincere, not can do." Or "I'm kinda busy right now." Or they say nothing. Just ignore me. If I want to be part of circle, I HAVE to participate in the events. Other people? Hey, they have many more circles, this one is not an important one even. But I have only two main circles. if I pass the possibility to do more there, people just ... forget about me. And that's true, not just my own imagination.
So it's not self-sabotage that person should stop and live happily ever after. It's actually trying to fit in with other people, to be what they want you to be. So that they would accept you.
Yes, most people does not help you anyway. They just criticize. You can't be liked by everyone. And maybe sometimes to be in the pack is not even worth the trouble. But to try to fit in, to be loved and liked is natural. I am extreme introvert and diagnosed autist and still I have this drive to fit in. Not just a self-sabotage. More like trying to be what others want, even if it's hurting myself.
Ok, I don't watch news. Maybe this is only self-sabotage =)
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In the hands of a madman 2024 ver
Doctor!yandere oc x reader
Summary: a doctor is very peculiar about his favorite patient, and senses a threat once they disobey him.
Warnings: yandere, poison, murder, cuff restraints
Word count: 2.4k
You gag.
“Yes, yes, I know”, he coos, grimacing and removes the wooden stick out of your mouth. “I’m sorry.”
You're left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Why does he always stick that thing as far down your throat as humanly possible? You thank heavens that it’s not one of the needles extracting blood from your arm, although you’re sure that’s what’s waiting tomorrow.
“Still nothing?” you ask cautiously.
He meets your eyes and you know immediately. You sigh heavily. Your heart sinks to your stomach.
Every three months, he’s doing all sorts of tests to see if you’re getting better — or what’s what he’s saying. Every three months, Dr Kry has to check every vital sign on you to make sure that his sickness isn���t getting out of his control. But you don’t like them. They hurt. Badly.
“Will I ever get to go home? I want to.”
Dr Kry sighs and sits down on his rolling stool, coming over to your bed.
“I know you do, but you that’s not possible”, he says apologetically. “You know that too.”
“Yeah, because you keep reminding me”, you mutter.
“That’s better than giving you false hope, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that drive you insane?”
It would, but you don’t say it out loud. Doesn’t need to.
“I want to go home!” you say again, louder this time.
“Saying it louder won’t make you better or me change my mind”, Dr Kry says.
You sigh and press your palms to your eyes, trying to press the tears back into your eyes before they escape. You’ve been here for too long by now. You’ve been isolated for so incredibly long. ALl you want is to go home. You know no one, talk to no one beside him. The proper, sophisticated man who’s stiffer than a stick. Dr Kry sighs and moves closer.
“I know that you’re disappointed”, he says and puts his large hand on your shoulder. “But this is for the best. “I don’t want you to get worse.”
“I hate these fucking tests! They hurt.”
“I know.”
He glances towards the white air purifier on the shelf beside the bed. The poisoned air purifier. He’s always making sure it’s not too much, not too little. Just the exact amount to keep you where he wants you — weak and vulnerable, dependent on him.
“I know it’s hard”, he says encouragingly. “I know that you’re in pain, but you’re doing so good. You can always call for me if you need me, okay? I’m available all day and night for you.”
You press forward a smile, but can’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you. Why did this happen to you? Where did you go wrong to end up here? How could a sore throat get you bed bound in a hospital room? If only you knew.
“Let’s get you tucked in again”, Dr Kry says and helps you lie down in bed. “You shouldn’t be putting to much pressure on your body.”
He pushes up your pillows, having you lie in a 45-degree angle. It helps you breathe at night. He always tucks the blanket close to your body, as if you were a butterfly in a cocoon. He gives you a small smile before standing up.
“Please don’t go”, you whisper. “I don’t want to be left here.”
The man looks at you, studies you carefully before nodding and sitting back down. He wipes your lonely tear with his finger. He looks at his wet finger, thinking.
“I feel helpless”, you admit. “I don’t think I’ll ever get well again.”
Little do you know that’s exactly what he wants.
“It’s okay, Y/N”, he says. “I will take care of you. I will stay with you until you’re well again.”
He has to force back a smile.
“I don’t want to do these anymore”, you say monotonously.
“I know you don’t, but you have to”, Dr Kry says apologetically and moves closer to the bed on his rolling stool. “They’re important.”
“They hurt …”
“I know, but you’re doing so good, okay? I’m so proud of you.”
You give him a small, painful smile.
“I’ll sit here until you fall asleep, don’t worry”, he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You close your eyes slowly. He fades out.
He takes blood tests the following day. Needles, pain.
“Now, you need to take a nap”, he says and tucks you in.
The daily afternoon nap. You hate it, but he insists. While you sleep, he’s out taking care of other patients that are not you. He hates it, hates wasting his time and skill on people that aren’t you. Those patients are one time patients that are there for surgeries, consultations or checkups. No long term patients that have to stay in the hospital. Everyone gets to leave after he meets them. Everyone but you. You stay.
You keep your eyes closed until Dr Kry leaves the room. Quickly, you sit up and get out of bed. After all these fucking tests, you’re deserving of something else than the tasteless cardboard Dr Kry gets you. Just one brownie. Something that has sugar. And maybe some coffee for caffeine too.
Quietly, you sneak out into the corridor. There’s something about these sterile passageways that makes the hair on your back stand on its end. Is it the dehumanized area or the fact that you’re never allowed here? Is it nerves or excitement? Whatever it is, you decide to speed up your steps and hurry towards the elevators before anyone sees you. They’ll tell him. Just as the doors are about to close, someone stops the doors. A boy dressed in a similar hospital gown as yourself forces his way into the elevator. He gives you a rushed, apologetic smile.
“Sorry”, he says sheepishly. “I am in a hurry.”
“What happened to you?” you ask and smile halfly.
“I escaped from the therapist. A real pain in my ass.”
You can’t help but giggle. The young man licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair.
“Have you met her?” he asks. “The therapist?”
“No”, you say.
You haven’t met anyone but your stiff and proper doctor.
“Don’t”, the young man advices you and leans his back against the wall. “She’s mental. I honestly think she should be the one getting interrogated — not me.” He looks at you, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you before.”
“Do you meet others?” you ask.
“In the lounge. Have you been there?”
You shake your head and lower your eyes.
“Did you just arrive?” the man asks.
You shake your head again.
“How long have you been here?”
“A while.”
The elevator stops and the doors open at your floor.
“Are you going to the cafeteria?” the man asks.
“Yes”, you reply.
“I’m coming with you. Maybe you can help me blend in.”
“Okay.”
The boy seems frantic, but happy. Running on adrenaline and excitement. Together, you walk through the hospital to the cafeteria and realize that you don’t have any money. Your shoulders fall. Did you come here for nothing?
“Aren’t you going to order something?” the young man asks.
“I don’t know”, you reply quietly.
Before you have the time to come up with a lie why you can’t order anything, you recognise something in the corner of your eye. A blonde man dressed in a white robe. You feel your blood run cold.
“What do we have here?” Dr Kry asks and you have a hard time reading his tone or facial expressions. “What do you think you are doing out of bed?”
He walks over to you and grabs your shoulder. You flinch. His grip is … tight. Painful.
“You’re supposed to rest”, Dr Kry says shortly.
He looks at the young man. His eyes seem to go right through him.
“Where are you supposed to be?” he asks.
He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry gives him a cold gaze before grabbing your upper arm in a tight grip. He doesn’t say anything as he starts to pull you with him. His steps are quick, steady. Angry.
“Doctor …”, you try.
He doesn’t answer. Dr Kry pushes you into the elevator and presses the button. He doesn't let go of your arm.
“Doctor, I’m sorry”, you say.
He still doesn’t answer. You barely dare to look at him. There’s something about his face that scares you. It's stoic, unreadable. But he oozes anger. Like a dark cloud.
The elevator stops, the doors open. His tight grip remains as he drags you back into your room.
“Lay down”, he instructs shortly.
You do, too scared to disobey. Dr Kry walks past you, to the drawers by your bed. He rips out two leather bands that look like belts for dolls. Before you're aware of what he's doing, he's strapped one of your wrists to the bed railing.
“Wait, doctor-”, you blurt out.
“Be quiet.”
He locks your other wrist to the other railing. You tug at the restraints, and find them secure.
“Are they too tight?” Dr Kry asks, still with that short tone that sends icy needles down your spine.
“Doctor, what are you-?”
“Answer the question. Do they hurt?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He turns to his desk, ignoring you.
“Doctor, I'm sorry”, you say.
“You broke my trust”, he says without giving you any attention. “It's important, for your healing, that you do not deceive me. I need to be able to trust that you do as I say. How many times have you done this?”
“Only this time, I promise.”
He doesn't answer. You feel how your eyes fill with tears. Your body is in such a vulnerable state that your body betrays you. You didn't want to upset him, didn't want to put your own health at risk by doing this.
“I'm sorry, doctor”, you sniffle. “I didn't mean to break your trust.”
He sighs and turns his head to look at you. His blue eyes soften and he rises from his chair, coming over to your bed. He can't stay mad at you, not when you're clearly dumb. You don't understand, he can't be mad at you for not understanding. He should — and is — mad at himself for not foreseeing these situations and making sure you don't do it.
“You know that I only want what's best for you, don't you?” he asks and wipes your tears with his hand.
“Yes”, you reply.
“In that case, I want you to never repeat this mistake. Mistakes are forgivable, but they should be minimized, do you understand that?”
“Yes. Do you forgive me?”
He has to force back a smile. You're so unbelievably cute.
“Yes, I do forgive you”, he says.
“Can you take off the restraints?”
“No. I might forgive you, but I need you to know what happens once mistakes occur. This is the consequences that follow. If I can't trust you to be where I want you to be, I need to take precautions to make sure you are.”
You lower your gaze.
“Who was that, by the way?” he asks. “That young … man. Why did you speak to him?”
“I don't know, he took the same elevator as me.”
“I don't want you to speak with him again. If he's the one they're looking for, I don't want you getting influenced by his reckless ideas.”
“I don't get to speak to anyone, anyways.”
“And that's how it should be. We don't know why you're sick, and you shouldn't contaminate someone else.”
“What about you, then? You can get sick too.”
“I'm ready to take that risk.”
He's too nice, you think. All he wants is to take care of you and you put his selfless risks to hell when you decide to disobey him. How horrible of you.
“Now, you need to take that nap for real”, he says. “I will sit by my desk. If you need something you can just let me know.”
He walks back to his desk and sits down, starting to file some paperwork. You tug at the restraints. You're not going anywhere.
When you’ve fallen asleep, Dr Kry makes his way through the hospital. They’ve captured that young man and put him back into his room … and Dr Kry wants a talk with him. He opens the door quietly. The young lays in bed, sleeping. Dr Kry circles around him, taking a good look at him. Did you find him cute? Hot? Did you like talking to him? Did you think that he was better than him? Did you enjoy those ten minutes with him more than these months with Kry? Do you want to meet with him again? He glares at the sleeping man. Dr Kry walks over to the supply closet, an identical to the one in your room, and takes out one of the spare pillows. Silently, he walks over to the bed, lifts the pillow and presses it over the young man’s face. He widen his eyes, pulled out of his slumber. He screams against the pillow, his voice getting muffled in the fabric.
“Normally, I’d make this easy for you”, Dr Kry grunts as the man starts to fight against him. “Out of pity, but you don’t deserve that mercy.”
He screams in confusion, fear. Dr Kry can make out words. What. No. Help. Stop.
“Just give in and give yourself that mercy”, Dr Kry continues. “If you continue to fight against me, you’ll be in more pain.”
The man cries. Dr Kry breaks out into a smile.
“You’re going to die either way, you can choose to end it quicker.”
The young man doesn’t seem to get the memo. He continues to fight, cry, plead. He drinks it all in. The horror, the helplessness. The dear in headlight. He has seen the light in people’s eyes disappear multiple times during his job as a doctor. To see the moment someone becomes just a piece of flesh. He has never enjoyed it as much as now. The man stops moving. Dr Kry removes the pillow and takes a step back, looking at the lifeless body. He breathes out. Finally, he can calm down.
And now, all he needs to do is to make sure he can not be traced back.
He finds you sleeping soundly as he comes back to your room, wrists still locked to the sides of the bed. You make his heart ache. He sits down beside you, brushing his fingertips over your cheek.
I control your life, my little one. You’re going to say with me and I’ll take every repercussion to make sure you don’t disappear.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere doctor#yandere fics#yandere oneshot#yandere oc
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Knock on the Door - Spencer Reid
₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊
Summary: In the midst of an intense investigation, Spencer and Derek bring you into protective custody after a disturbing discovery links you to their case. As you navigate the unexpected situation, Spencer’s calm presence offers reassurance, sparking an unexpected connection amid the chaos.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
The quiet street was a far cry from the usual high-stakes BAU scene, but the tension in the air made Spencer’s skin prickle with unease. He glanced at Derek, who was already preparing to knock on another door, exuding his usual calm confidence.
"This one could be a lead," Derek muttered, showing a slight glint of hope in his eyes as he raised his hand to knock. The case had been dragging on, and frustration was growing with each unanswered question.
When the door opened, Spencer noted the faint hint of confusion in your expression. Derek immediately flashed his badge, his tone respectful but firm. "Ma’am, I'm Agent Derek Morgan. This is my colleague, Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the FBI."
Your eyes darted between the two of them, registering the serious expressions they wore. "The FBI? What's going on?"
"Have you had any strangers come to your door recently trying to sell you something?"
A flicker of recognition passed over your face, and Spencer leaned in, catching the shift. "Actually, yes,” you said, brows furrowing. “A guy came by yesterday… He gave me his card.”
Spencer and Derek shared a look. "Do you still have that card?" Spencer asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice.
"Yeah, I think so. Let me grab it." You turned back into the house, leaving the door partially open, and returned a moment later with a card in hand. As Derek took it from you, he confirmed with a nod that it matched the cards left at the other crime scenes.
You looked between them, anxiety creeping into your voice. "What is going on? Who is this guy?"
Spencer’s voice softened, his gaze meeting yours directly. "We believe he's a dangerous criminal who may be responsible for several recent homicides. His method involves gaining entry to homes under false pretenses."
Your face paled as the weight of his words sank in. Derek placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We need to take you back to the station to make sure you’re safe. There are some steps we’d like to take to ensure you’re protected while we gather more information."
"Safe? Is he going to try and kill me?"
Derek’s expression turned serious. "We have reason to believe he might try to come back, and it’s important we get ahead of him."
A sense of dread settled over you as you let their words sink in. You followed them to the car, feeling your stomach twist with a mix of fear and disbelief. As you settled into the backseat, Spencer turned to give you a reassuring nod.
“Just so you know,” he began, his tone gentle, “we’ll have officers posted near your home to ensure he doesn’t have the chance to get in. We’re taking every precaution.”
“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… a lot.”
“Understandable,” Spencer said, glancing at you with a sympathetic look. “We’ll also have you meet with a sketch artist and undergo a cognitive interview. It’s standard procedure, and it might help us learn more about him.”
You looked out the window, processing the reality of the situation. The quiet chatter between Derek and Spencer drifted over you as they discussed possible motives, patterns, and theories. But for now, you were too lost in your own thoughts to make out their words.
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆
When you arrived at the station, Spencer took a moment to walk you through the cognitive interview process. "It’s designed to help you remember specific details," he explained, his voice calm and assuring. "It might feel intense, but I’ll be with you the whole time."
You nodded, glancing around the bustling police station, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and adrenaline. "Okay, so… I just answer questions, and you’ll be able to get a clearer picture of this guy?"
Spencer gave you a small smile. "Pretty much. Think of it as helping us paint a portrait. Every detail, no matter how small, could be useful."
The interview went smoothly; Spencer’s presence was patient and encouraging, never making you feel pressured to remember something you couldn’t. Afterward, he led you to a small break room, offering you a seat at a worn table with a coffee machine humming nearby.
A few minutes later, Spencer returned with two steaming cups, handing one to you. "Here," he said, "it's not gourmet, but it’ll keep us awake."
You took it gratefully, feeling a sense of normalcy settle in. "Thanks, Spencer." You sipped the coffee, savoring the warmth. "I didn’t expect to spend my afternoon in an FBI station, but… it’s definitely more interesting than my usual routine."
Spencer chuckled, seeming surprised by your laid-back attitude. "Most people aren’t as calm in situations like this."
You shrugged, feeling the weight of the situation but refusing to let it get the best of you. "I don’t know. I figure, if I’m in good hands, there’s no point in freaking out."
As you chatted, Spencer filled you in on some of the behavioral profiling techniques they used, giving you a peek into the mind of the BAU. His eyes lit up as he explained the ways they’d been analyzing the unsub’s behavior to find any possible patterns, and you found yourself genuinely interested, asking questions and absorbing his answers.
"Do you ever wonder why people do these things?" you asked thoughtfully, watching him as he considered your question.
"All the time," Spencer replied, his voice softening as he looked down at his coffee. "But there’s rarely a straightforward answer. The best we can do is study the behaviors and try to make sense of them. Hopefully, it helps us stop them."
A sense of respect grew in you as he spoke, and you found yourself admiring the dedication he had for his work. "That sounds exhausting. Important, but exhausting."
"It can be," he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. "But it’s worth it, especially when it means keeping someone safe. Like now."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his sincerity. "Well, I guess I’m lucky you guys were around."
The door to the break room opened, and Derek poked his head in, giving Spencer a grin. "You two doing all right in here?"
Spencer nodded, standing up to update Derek on the details you’d given during the interview. As they talked, you finished your coffee, feeling a strange sense of calm despite the unusual circumstances.
When Derek turned his attention to you, his gaze softened. "We’re going to have a team set up around your house tonight, keeping a close eye on things. We’ll catch this guy if he shows up."
You nodded, feeling reassured. "Thanks, Agent Morgan. I know you guys are handling it, so I’ll let you do your thing."
Spencer glanced back at you with a small smile. "If you need anything, or have more questions, just let me know."
As they walked you to the main desk, Spencer looked back, his gaze soft. "We'll keep you safe," he assured you once more, his sincerity unmistakable. "Until then, try not to worry. We’re on it."
A small smile tugged at your lips as you nodded. "I trust you," you replied, giving them one last grateful look before they escorted you to a waiting area. And as you waited, you felt a sense of calm, knowing you weren’t facing this alone.
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#fanfic#fluff#spencer reid#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer#spencer reid fanfic#dr reid#spencer x y/n#spencer x reader#spencer x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fic#criminal minds
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unexpected confession.
pairings: lando norris + fem reader.
summary: as the elevator stalls, so does your composure. lando’s sudden, earnest words turn the trapped moment into a delicate dance between panic and possibility.
genre: fluff.⠀word count: 1k.⠀ warning: none.
notes: lando’s birthday!!! a bit short but i hope y’all like it. <3 no use of y/n or any names at all.
you and lando are standing in the elevator, the air uncomfortably still, and the space around you both feels too small. the elevator’s hum seems louder now, echoing in the confined space. the flickering light above does little to calm the rising tension between you two, as your body instinctively shifts to press against the corner.
you’ve never thought much about how close you are to each other—how every small movement feels amplified in this moment. it's as if your very proximity makes the silence heavier. your mind races, trying to distract itself from the fact that you're alone in an elevator, stuck for what feels like forever. it should be mundane, but with lando here, everything suddenly feels too intense.
and then, he breaks the stillness, his voice barely above a whisper but loud enough to shake you out of your thoughts. "i don’t want to die without telling you this."
your heart skips a beat, and a chill runs down your spine. the sudden panic floods you, and you whip your head to face him, your eyes wide, your breath catching in your throat. “what?! what are you talking about? are we—are we dying?”
his face goes pale as he stammers, looking more flustered than you've ever seen him. his hands hover over the elevator buttons as though he can fix the situation with the press of a few keys. “no! no, of course not… well, i mean, i don’t think so. but listen, it’s important.” he avoids your gaze, the nervous energy practically crackling between you.
you let out a shaky, almost panicked laugh, trying to control the rapid beat of your heart. “lando, this is not the time for dramatic confessions! you’re freaking me out!”
he shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes dart around the elevator. you can tell he’s struggling to keep it together, his body stiff with the weight of whatever he's about to say. “i love you. i always have. and i’m sorry for not saying it sooner.”
you freeze, your body going rigid. the words land with such weight that you can’t process them fast enough. your jaw falls open, and your mouth feels dry as you blink a few times, as if trying to clear the fog in your brain. "wait, what? you love me? you’ve… always loved me?" you can’t quite wrap your mind around it, your voice coming out in a whisper, disbelief taking over. your hands tremble, and your heart is pounding so hard you swear he can hear it. "are you—are you serious right now? do you think we’re going to die in this elevator?"
“no! no, i don’t think we’re dying! i mean, not right now.” lando sighs dramatically, dropping his shoulders in exasperation as he leans back against the elevator wall, seemingly giving up on fixing anything. “but… look, i just needed to say it, okay? i didn’t want to leave with it unsaid. so, if we do die, well… at least you know.”
his words hang in the air like a strange confession, one that doesn't quite make sense given the circumstances. but even then, a knot of warmth stirs in your chest, a strange mix of emotions you’re not ready to confront.
you step back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest as if trying to shield yourself from what’s happening. you narrow your eyes at him, your lips curling into a teasing frown. “so, this is your plan? we get stuck in an elevator for five minutes and suddenly you’ve decided to unload your feelings?”
he groans, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. he slumps against the wall, letting out a breath like he's trying to deflate from the awkwardness. “this wasn’t exactly the moment i planned, okay? but i’ve been holding it in for years, and if you do kill me with that glare, at least i’ll go knowing i said it.”
you bite back a smile, your eyes narrowing in mock judgment. you raise an eyebrow as you lean toward him. “glare? i’m just trying to process this. you’ve have fancied me all this time, and you never said anything?”
his shoulders tense, and he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze as if searching for some way to escape. “i wasn’t sure if you felt the same. i thought maybe you’d think i was, i don’t know, creepy or something.” his voice cracks slightly, a nervous chuckle escaping him. he looks down at his shoes, his embarrassment clear. “but now here we are. stuck in this tiny box together, one awkward cough away from the end of our lives…”
you can’t help but laugh, the sound light and a little shaky as you step forward, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “well, lucky for you, i don’t think you’re creepy. and maybe… just maybe… i’ve had a few feelings too.”
his eyes widen, his mouth slightly agape, disbelief written all over his face. his voice falters for a moment, but it’s full of hope. “wait, what?!”
you laugh softly, the playful edge to your voice not masking the sudden warmth in your chest. "you think i’m just going to throw myself at you after you drop that bomb? i’m not that easy, lando."
his eyes light up, his expression shifting from surprise to sheer delight. he takes a step closer, his grin impossibly wide as he leans in, his voice filled with teasing excitement. “oh, really? because if we do get stuck here a little longer, i can think of a few ways to pass the time…” his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, mischievous and full of playful challenge.
you roll your eyes dramatically, trying to maintain some semblance of control over your emotions, but the smile you can’t hide betrays you. "you’re unbelievable."
lando shrugs, his grin growing even wider as he leans back, arms crossing in mock defense. his eyes dance with a mix of humor and genuine affection. "i do try."
©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.
#piastrisun: work#piastrisun: one shot#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic
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I had the top two reference images roughly sketched on my reference stuff for Vic, and this post made me want to add more stuff.
Victor's mother had trouble during his pregnancy (long story) and as a result, Vic was born with green hair that can't be dyed and his left eye completely paralysed (among a few other things). That eye blinks (albeit slowly in comparison to the other) and the left eyebrow matches the other's movement, but the iris never leave the center of the globe. Technically, that left eye is fully functional and could see, but it was kept from developing vision so it wouldn't make things harder by giving contradictory input to the boy's brain. Now, it's kept covered both to avoid glare pain and to make sure Vic's magical regeneration doesn't restore sight to it.
I find it very interesting that, 9/10 times, I do draw his head tilted to favour the working eye, but it's an unconscious choice, probably due to the fact that we draw the most important thing in a drawing in the center of it, and, in a normal head shot, the most expressive part of him is the working eye. Similarly, I usually draw people talking to him on his non-blind side because it immediately strikes me that he would have to turn his head too much otherwise and the composition would be weird.
The "sitting a little crooked" thing is something that I added because I do this when I'm drawing without my glasses (I have moderate myopia). One of my eyes is slightly more myopic than the other, so I'll sit in a way that makes it closer to the paper (basically, the same effect as the head tilt thing, but with the whole body, not just the neck, turning). Instead of neck pain, it'll give you back pain, so not really a fix.
Since Vic's a mage (and a super strong at that), he has extra sensory input (super senses and aether detection, which is a weird blend of vision and touch) that he unconsciously uses since birth to aid in depth perception and in knowing something/someone is in his blind spot, but some things will still be hard for him, like catching something small thrown in his direction (specially if the thing doesn't irradiate aether) and anything that involves depth and precision, like putting thread on needles. He will also most likely need some aids when creating magic arrays because of conflicting sensory inputs, or maybe he will prefer to learn how to "cast blind" to avoid a (literal) headache. I'll see when we get there.
writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.
#vic's chrysopoeia#comic#author notes#vic harvey#monocular vision#the hair covering the eyepatch is just a vanity thing#vic simply feels prettier like this#but doesn't really hate the eyepatch
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