#but then talks to her again ONLY to try to get her to break up with ruka.

[latenightreadingpdf]

Spencer's Secret - Spencer Reid

₊‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to finish his paperwork and go home, but now he’s in a bar, drunk, and confessing all his secrets to Derek.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The team had barely settled back into the office after a grueling case when Derek threw an arm over Emily’s shoulder, talking about needing a drink. Emily agreed with a weary smile, and soon enough, JJ, Penelope, and Rossi had chimed in, all eager to unwind together. Somehow, they’d even managed to convince Hotch, who gave them a reluctant nod, his rare smile hinting he could use a break too.

All that was left was Spencer. Sitting at his desk, he was hunched over, diligently finishing up his paperwork, when Derek strolled over and leaned in with his usual, "Hey, pretty boy."

Spencer looked up, already anticipating the question. "No, Derek, I’m not going."

Derek raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "I didn’t even get to ask!"

"Doesn’t matter. I’m not going," Spencer replied firmly, looking back down at his files.

"Come on, kid," Derek urged, his voice dropping to a softer, pleading tone. "Just this once. If you come, I’ll never ask again. I swear."

Spencer let out a sigh, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with him. There was a beat of silence as he mulled it over, glancing at the hopeful faces of his teammates nearby. Finally, he closed his file, resigned. "Fine," he muttered, “but just this once."

Derek’s face broke into a grin, practically bouncing on his feet. "You heard him, guys—he’s in! Let’s go before he changes his mind."

Spencer reluctantly stood up, pulling on his coat with a sigh. He glanced around, noticing the others already gathering their things, excitement buzzing among them. As they all filed out together, Penelope slung an arm around Spencer, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh, Spence, you’ll have fun. Trust me," she said, winking.

Spencer managed a small, hesitant smile, wondering just what he was getting himself into. It wasn’t exactly his ideal night out, but surrounded by his friends, he couldn’t help but feel a faint sense of anticipation growing despite himself.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As soon as the team settled into the bar, the weight of the last case started to fade. They ordered the first round, eager to drink, laugh, and let loose for a few hours. The drinks flowed freely, and soon they were deep in conversation, sharing old stories and laughing harder with each passing round. Spencer, who rarely drank, was feeling more than a little tipsy. Nights like these weren’t really his scene—he usually found it far more comfortable to stay home. But now, with the warm buzz in his head and his friends around, he was actually enjoying himself.

Meanwhile, Derek had been off flirting at the bar, but eventually made his way back to the booth, where Spencer was the last one still sitting. Derek, who could hold his liquor well, was only slightly buzzed. He noticed Spencer's dazed expression and grinned, sliding into the seat next to him. "Pretty boy," he said, nudging him, "there are so many gorgeous women here tonight. You should go try and have some fun, maybe even get a date."

Spencer, a little too drunk to filter his thoughts, shook his head. "Don’t need a date," he said, his words slurring slightly.

Derek raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? And why’s that?"

Spencer’s face softened, and he blurted, “I’ve got an amazing girlfriend at home.”

"Right, sure," Derek teased, not at all convinced. "So what’s her name?"

Spencer’s face lit up. "Y/N," he said, his voice full of adoration. He leaned in, eyes dreamy, and started rambling. “She’s incredible, Derek. So smart, so beautiful. She’s way out of my league—I still can’t believe she’s with me.”

Derek chuckled, noticing just how drunk Spencer was. It was getting late, and he knew Spencer would never make it home on his own. “Why don’t you call Y/N to pick you up, then?” he said, jokingly.

Spencer’s face brightened, and he fumbled for his phone. Derek watched in amusement as he dialed, still skeptical, until he heard a faint “Hello?” from the other end.

Spencer’s face lit up even more. “Hello, my love,” he said, voice thick with affection.

You let out a soft laugh on the other side of the line. “Hey, Spence! Everything alright?”

Spencer grinned, completely forgetting why he’d called. “Yeah,” he said dreamily. “I just…wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

You laughed, clearly touched. Derek, now genuinely surprised that someone had actually answered, took the phone from Spencer, holding it up to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, still a bit skeptical.

"Uh, hi,” you replied, a little confused. “Who is this?"

Derek cleared his throat. “This is Derek. Spencer friend.”

“Oh! Nice to finally meet you, Derek, Spencer talks about you and the team quite a bit.” you said, sounding amused. “I’m Y/N, his girlfriend.”

Derek muttered, “Holy shit, you’re real.”

"Sorry?" you asked, sounding puzzled.

“Nothing, nothing,” he chuckled. “Listen, Spencer’s had a bit too much to drink. Are you able to pick him up?”

You let out a soft, understanding laugh. “Yeah, of course. Just tell me where you guys are.”

Derek gave you the address and hung up, handing the phone back to Spencer. "Your girlfriend’s coming to get you," he said, still slightly in awe that Spencer’s been hiding a girlfriend from them.

Spencer’s eyes lit up even more. “Y/N?” he asked eagerly.

“Yeah, pretty boy, Y/N,” Derek replied, shaking his head with a grin.

Spencer slumped back in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Finally,” he mumbled. “Someone cool to hang out with.”

Derek just laughed, patting Spencer on the shoulder. He sat down with Spencer and waited with him for Y/N to get there, eager to meet her.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

As Spencer was still happily rambling to Derek about his incredible girlfriend, the door opened, and a beautiful woman stepped into the bar. Spencer’s eyes widened instantly. "Y/N!" he exclaimed, jumping up so quickly he nearly tripped. He stumbled over to you, practically throwing himself into your arms, clinging to you like he’d just found his lifeline. He buried his face in your neck, a contented sigh escaping him.

You wrapped your arms around him, laughing softly at his drunken enthusiasm. "Looks like someone had a good time," you teased, rubbing his back.

“Missed you so much,” he mumbled into your neck, his words muffled but unmistakably fond.

Looking up, you noticed a man standing a few steps behind Spencer, observing the two of you with an amused grin. "You must be Derek," you said, offering him a warm smile.

Derek smiled back, giving a nod. "Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you tonight."

Before you could respond, Spencer had already started tugging you gently toward the exit. You glanced back at Derek and gave him a quick smile. "Hopefully we can actually talk sometime soon," you said, laughing as Spencer clung to your arm.

Derek chuckled, nodding. "I’d like that. Take care of him. Goodnight, Y/N."

He watched as you guided a tipsy, lovesick Spencer out of the bar, a soft smile still on his face. Just then, Penelope popped up beside him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “What are you staring at?” she asked, following his gaze to the exit.

“Spencer’s got a girlfriend,” Derek said, unable to keep a little laugh from escaping as he recalled the whole scene.

Penelope’s eyes went wide, and she gasped, practically bouncing in place. "Wait, what?! Our Spencer? Oh my God, I need details!"

Derek smirked, shaking his head. "Calm down, babygirl. You can interrogate him tomorrow," he teased.

Penelope pouted, but the excitement was already building. After a second, she sighed dramatically, then brightened up again and grabbed Derek’s hand. “Fine! But right now, you’re dancing with me.”

Derek let her pull him to the dance floor, chuckling as he made a mental note to tease Spencer about this night for a long time.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

[leaawrites]

I like you, because you're you

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: in which, she likes him for who he is, not because of how he looks.

Warnings: insecurities (Lando), some mocking (?) (unintentional),

Wordcount: 0.7k

Masterlist

She had a type, there was no use in denying that. It looked almost like a pattern when you looked at her exes. It was almost scary how similar some of them looked.

And she may have dated one or two of them because she wasn’t over about the one before them, but those were exceptions. Those were the ones she met in a club a week after a new break up and was in desperate need to replace the heartbreak with something familiar, even when it was only a face filled with nostalgia of another for her.

It was never a serious problem for her when her friends joked about them looking like a family tree when put together, because it wasn’t totally exaggerated. It was never a problem until they started doing it at dinner with her new boyfriend. Saying how he looked like someone they knew, but couldn’t right place who it was he reminded them of. It wasn’t a problem until one said, “oh, yeah, you look like y/n’s last boyfriend. Same hair, same face structure. That must be it.” And all of them hummed in agreement. Laughing afterwards and waving it off as a joke he shouldn’t take too serious.

But Y/n knew Lando, and she knew that he thought about it. More than he should. She could see it in his eyes when they looked in hers - if they even did that evening. She knew by the way he tapped his fingers anxiously against his leg or the table. She knew from the way he chewed on his lip and how he sat in silence for most of the remaining night.

She knew and she didn’t say anything about it until they got to his apartment again, the door slamming behind him and her not even flinching because she saw it coming. Lando didn’t get angry often, he only got frustrated and closed off. Most times it was too late to make him open up when you noticed, but she knew that you just had to ask enough times to make him break.

“Lando,” she approached him, putting her lips on his shoulder and trying to catch his gaze, but Lando was focused on the skyline outside the window.

Monaco at night, a kind of peaceful you didn’t want to disturb but she knew she had to now.

“Lando, please talk to me,” she pushed a bit further, interlacing their fingers and laying her head against his back. Her thumb rubbing over his skin.

“What they said wasn’t appropriate and they shouldn’t have done it. And I know it’s a shitty perspective from you, but please talk to me. Yell or do whatever, just please talk to me,” she continued, almost sounding like she was begging. And if necessary, she would.

“Do you like me because I look like him?” He finally said, his voice shaking and quiet. It broke her heart, seeing her love so fragile. The clouds covering her sunshine. Him.

“I like you, because you’re you,” she quickly said, stepping around him and taking his head in her hands to make him look at her. She could see tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. She could see them threaten to spill over and spill out. “I could never not like you, no matter how you look. You’re so funny and charming and loving, it’s breaking me to see you so down.”

“You promise?” Lando asked, putting his hands on her waist.

“I promise,” she answered. “Forever and always.”

He pulled her closer, closing any remaining space between them. With her head against his chest, she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage. Furiously trying to break free. She kissed the place where it was at, trying to calm it down, trying to not make it worry. Lando put his head on top of hers, kissing her hair and letting his tears fall down on her.

[hottiesforhockey]

no nut november ⎜q.hughes

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜angst? warnings: no nut november ⎜teasing ⎜ mentions of a bet/deal ⎜mention of sharing sex life ⎜fingering ⎜light dirty talk ⎜quinn second guessing his life choices ⎜ masturbation ⎜finger sucking ⎜insecure reader⎜hints at breaking up ⎜p in v ⎜ swearing ⎜praise ⎜no protection (please wrap it before you tap it)⎜ synopsis: quinn makes a deal with his brothers - he never realised how hard this would be for the both of you. word count: 3.8k authors note:  Quinn was the clear winner of my poll to decide who would star in this fic - so I hope all 39.6% of you enjoy. do we want a sequel? called dicked down december

(unedited)

DAY ONE

Quinn was only one day in and he already knew he wasn’t going to make it through the month. He knew now that he should’ve never let Jack drag him into the deal that most of the New Jersey Devils participated in every year - the winner coming out with a donation to the charity of their choice and the ability to pronounce themselves as “not whipped” by their girlfriends. 

But Quinn was very much whipped. 

Your whip was so tight around him, he could barely breathe as he watched you wander around the house in just your towel, grabbing your clothes fresh out of the dryer for the game later today. Quinn’s fingers twitched at his sides, as he resists the urge to reach out for you - knowing the only way he was going to get through this month was going to be by avoiding touching you at any and all costs. He wanted nothing more than to abandon this ridiculous bet and wrap his arms around you, pulling that towel away inch by inch. Every day, this month-long challenge to abstain from any intimate contact with you felt like it was going to kill him.

He took a deep breath, his jaw clenching as you glanced over your shoulder and flashed him a teasing smile. You knew exactly what you were doing to him - you had to know. 

But how did you know? He certainly didn’t tell you, and he made his brothers swear to secrecy. 

Quinn's gaze was glued to you, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. He tried to focus on anything else, on his suit laid out on the bed, or on his phone buzzing in his sweatpants pocket. Anything but the sway of your hips as you walk down the hallway - or the hinting smile you send him as you reach the doorway to the bedroom, inviting him to follow you. 

The sight of you, so effortless and beautiful, had his mind completely tangled.

"You okay there, babe?” you asked, clearly confused by his discomfort and unwillingness to trail behind you. He nods his head with a tight smile as you shrug and disappear from sight, Quinn letting out a long groan as he rubs his hands down his face - cursing his brothers in his mind for what they are doing to him. 

“One day down” he whispers, exhaling slowly. “Only twenty-nine more to go.”

+

+

DAY FIFTEEN

“One of you two must’ve told her something.” Quinn sneers at his phone. 

“We didn’t tell her anything, I swear on my life.” Luke retorts, making the sound of Jack’s laughter ring even louder in his ear, as Quinn waves goodbye to some of his teammates leaving the rink after practice - Quinn’s frown deepens as Jack tries to compose himself, only to laugh even harder as soon as he calms down. 

“Maybe she figured it out on her own.” Jack suggests one his laughing finally dies down, a few chuckles spilling out before he lets out a grunt of pain, presumably caused by the youngest of the brothers. 

“Well she knows something - she’s never been like this before.” Quinn sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, a habit that’s becoming far more common since the month began. “She’s ravenous, any chance she gets she’s trying to take my pants off.” Quinn’s words set his younger brother off again. 

“Look we promise we didn’t say anything to her - but maybe you should.” Luke suggests softly, the sound of Jack’s laugh quieting in the background as Quinn assumes his youngest brother walks away from the noise. “I’m sure she’d try to take things easier on you if you told her what you were doing - it’s for charity.” Luke voice is hopeful but Quinn knows that he’s wrong - his girlfriend would rather sell her soul then help him win a bet with his idiot brothers. 

“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.” Quinn says into the phone before hanging up not waiting for his brother to respond. Quinn makes his short journey home - his apartment only a five minute drive from the arena, the apartment almost silent when he walks through the door - Quinn surprised not to see you perched on the couch like you usually are. 

The small muffled whimper coming from down the hall catching him even more by surprise. 

“Babe?” He calls out into the apartment, sliding off his shoes at the front door, placing his keys on their hook besides the front door. He waits for a moment, another whimper cutting through the silence. Quinn takes slow, quiet steps down the hallway, your soft sounds getting louder as he reaches the closed bedroom door - the softer whisper of his name giving him pause. 

“Baby? Are you okay in there?” He calls through the door, knowing that opening the door right now might be a mistake, but he can’t help his hand turning the door handle, peeking through the small gap as the door swings open. 

Quinn can feel his mouth drop open as he watches your fingers slip inside of you so easily. Your legs falling further open against the mattress as you let out a long sigh, your other hand gripping the sheets. “Fuck.” Quinn curses under his breath as head shooting up at the interruption, your legs snapping closed your hand trapped in between them. 

“Quinn? When did you get home?” You question as your cheeks burn a bright red, pulling yourself into a sitting up position slowly sliding your hand out from between your legs - your shirt falling from where it was bunched against your waist to cover you a little more. 

Quinn opens his mouth to speak but clamps it shut against as he sees you reaching for the towel besides the bed, his body moving faster then his brain as he steps forwards, his hand clamping around your wrist as he pauses your motions, glancing down at the sheen of liquid on your fingers. Quinn smiles as you try to yank your hand from his grasp, your whole body freezing as he raises your soaked fingers to his mouth - sucking them clean, a loud hum resonating from his throat. 

“What the fuck?” You whisper as he releases your wrist, letting the hand fall limply besides you as he lunges forwards, his hand clasping either side of your head as he attaches his lips to yours - the taste of yourself still fresh in his mouth. Quinn pulls away first, his hand knotting in your hair as he pants over your, your hands desperately clinging to the sides of his shirt. 

“No, wait.” You whine as he moves to pull away, pushing the hair off your face as his eyes lock with yours. “Why are you stopping?” His thumbs stroke your cheeks gently as a small pout forms on your face, Quinn smiling as he leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips before pulling away from you completely. 

“I just can’t right now.”  Is all he gives you before he turns quickly and leaves the room - leaving you sitting on the mattress with burning skin and a throbbing pussy, the anger bubbling under the surface. You huff as you bed down, pulling your pyjama pants back on before marching into the living room behind your boyfriend. 

“What do you mean, you just can’t?” You snap, crossing your arms over your chest as you watch him flop onto the couch, his face pushed into the cushions as he lets out a sigh. “Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You ask, the room suddenly feeling colder as a shiver racks your body, your arms pulling tighter against yourself.  

“No.” Quinn groans against the pillow. 

“Really? Cause it seems like I’m the problem - Quinn I’ve been throwing myself at you and you don’t even look at me anymore.” You don’t mean for your voice to tremble when you speak but you can’t help the growing lump in your throat. “I just want you to be honest with me, if this isn’t something you want anymore.” 

Quinn’s head shoots up from the pillow - his body scrambling off the lounge to make his way to you, your body stepping away from him as you hands wipe at your face. “I’m not going to be mad if you do want to brea—” 

“Don’t finish that fucking sentence.” Quinn hisses, his hands reaching out for yours, forcing you to uncross the arms against your chest. “What on earth would make you think that I want to break up with you?” He questions, bringing your hands to his lips, pressing soft kisses across your knuckles. 

“Are you kidding me?” You respond, a cold laugh leaving you before you add, “You’ve wanted nothing to do with me over the last two weeks - every time I try, you run away like you’ve been burned and not to mention you’ve been sleeping in the guest room. I never thought that I was so bad you couldn’t even share a bed with me.” Quinn flinches at the shaky breath you let out, the small hiccup as you try to hold back your tears. 

“No, it’s not like that.” 

“Then what is it, Quinn because I’m really fucking confused.” 

“Jack and Luke convinced me to—” Quinn pauses as he watches your head tilt in confusion - your mind racing a million miles an hour as he tries to figure out how to word this right, but falling short as he blurts out. “It’s because of no nut November.” 

A flicker of surprise crosses your face before a look of incredulous amusement takes over. You blink at him, as though waiting for the punchline.

“Wait, that's why you’ve been avoiding me? Because of… some dumb challenge?” You try to hold back a laugh, but a snort slips out anyway. Quinn’s cheeks flush, his gaze dropping as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck.

 “It’s not dumb. It’s for charity—Jack and Luke both dared me, and if I finish the month, we’re each donating a bunch of money to the children's hospital.” His voice grows defensive, though he’s clearly embarrassed. “I just… I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to resist. “Literally or figuratively?”

“Both!” he bursts out, letting out a frustrated sigh as he flops back down onto the couch. “You have no idea how hard this has been… and every time I see you—” He cuts himself off, cheeks going even redder, which only makes you chuckle harder. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, crossing your arms. “So you’ve been turning me down, not because you’re mad at me, but because of a bet?” Quinn grimaces, looking up at you with guilt in his eyes. 

“Yes. I know it’s dumb, but I didn’t want you to feel bad. I thought I could just… tough it out without saying anything.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of relief and exasperation. “I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone so stupid” 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, rubbing his temples. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you feel unwanted. It’s just… Jack and Luke won’t let me hear the end of it if I quit now. They’d never let me live it down.”

You roll your eyes, moving closer to him on the couch. “Well, maybe I can make this month even harder on you,” you say, grinning as you trail a finger along his jawline.

His eyes widen, and he gulps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. You’ve already put me through two weeks of this. You think I’m not going to make you work for it?”

He groans, dropping his head into his hands. “This is going to be the longest month of my life.”

You laugh, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before taking up ridiculous bets with your brothers.”

Quinn pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s worth it. For the kids.”

+

+

DAY THIRTY

“I can’t take this anymore” Quinn sighs as he watches you waltz around the room in your underwear, the sunflower yellow matching set the same he had picked out earlier in the year for your birthday. You shoot him a grin over his shoulder as you pull on the mid length dress, saving Quinn from drooling over your ass for any longer. 

“It’s the last day Quinn, think of the children.” You coo, adjusting each breast to sit more comfortably in the dress, Quinn letting out a long whine as his threads his fingers through his hair pulling on the roots. 

“Fuck the kids.” He grumbles, a surprised laugh escaping you as you make your way over to him - his hands instantly grabbing hold of your hips pulling you between his legs. His forehead dipping to leans against your stomach, your fingers gently playing with the ends of his curled hair. 

“Quinn, if you can make it to midnight, then I promise it’ll be worth your while.” You promise, your hands smoothing down the back of his head and dipping under the collar of his dress shirt, rubbing soft circles against his back. “And with the jackpot combined that’s almost fifty thousand for the children’s hospital palliative care unit. That’s so special, Quinn.” 

Quinn groans, his grip tightening on your hips, as he pulls you closer. “I know, I know… you’re right.” He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes smoldering with barely contained desire. “But you’re not making it any easier for me.”

You chuckle, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Just a few more hours. Then I’m all yours.”

Quinn sighs, releasing you reluctantly, his hands sliding down your waist before finally letting go. He leans back in his chair, watching as you smooth out the dress and adjust your hair in the mirror. The way he looks at you sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but feel a surge of anticipation for what’s to come once this night is over.

"Fine," he relents, his voice low and gruff. "But I’m holding you to that promise."

You grin, blowing him a playful kiss before grabbing your purse and heading towards the door. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Hughes.”

As you both step out, ready to put on smiles and charm for the last fundraiser of the year, you can feel Quinn’s hand settle on the small of your back, a silent reminder of everything waiting between you once the clock strikes midnight.

Quinn could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket for most of the evening, his brothers and their teammates admitting defeat and wishing Quinn congratulations - his hand tight in yours the whole evening as he watches the clock in the corner of the room, each tick of the hour hand building his anticipation. 

“Quinn you need to actually pay attention.” You hiss in his ear, his fingers squeezing yours as the clock ticks to eleven thirty pm. 

“I’d be able to pay attention if I could think of anything other then how good it’s gonna feel when I can finally put my dick inside you again.” Quinn leans his head down, his lips pressing to your ears as he whispers - your gaze instantly shooting around to see if anyone had heard what he said. “I hope you’re not attached to that matching set, baby.” He grins as he pulls away from you, the Quinn from the past month quickly replaced by a man you hadn’t seen in a while. 

“Hey, we’re going to head off, she’s not feeling too well.” Quinn whispers to the table as the speeches conclude - his teammates immediately wishing you well, as Quinn collects your purse and coat, dragging you from the ballroom hall in haste. Quinn makes quick work of the drive home - not even glancing in your direction as he fidgets in his seat, his hand clamped against the inside of your thigh, his other hand tapping against the steering wheel as he makes his way through the streets of Vancouver. 

“Five minutes, I can do this.” He mumbles to himself, as he races around the car, pulling the door open for you, offering his hand as you slide out of the car. The two of you taking the longest journey of Quinn’s life to the apartment, the tension rising to a boil as the front door clicks shut - Quinn’s pupils blown out as he glances at the clock. 

“One minute.” He whispers, your hands making quick work of your heels as you strip them off your feet, a bright grin on your face as you tug on the hem of your dress, pulling it up inch by inch as you watch Quinn, who watches the clock. You pull the soft fabric over your head just as the clock ticks to midnight, Quinn’s eyes shooting over to yours. 

“I did it.” He says in disbelief. 

“You did it.” You confirm, leaning against the front door as you fiddle with the band on your underwear. “Now fuck me.” Quinn doesn’t waste time, his hands pushing you hard against the door as his lips capture yours, the two of your breathless in seconds, as his lips leave yours to press soft kisses down your jaw. 

“I don’t know how long I’ll last.” He admits, a groan escaping him as you run your fingers against his scalp, his lips dipping to your collarbones before making their way back up. “God, you’re just so fucking gorgeous.” He says against your skin, your hands gripping his face to pull it away from your neck for a moment. 

“Let’s make this quick then, cap.” You says as you press a chaste kiss to his lips before slipping out from between his body and the door, sprawling yourself against the couch your legs opened wide in invitation. “Clothes off.” You murmur as he stumbles over to the couch - Quinn nodding his head vigorously as he strips himself of his shirt, pausing to watch as you tug on the front clasp of your bra, the two cups springing away from each other as your breasts tumble free. 

“I think I’ve been blessed by angels.” He says as his mouth falls open a little, his fingers fumbling on the button of his pants, finally letting out a sharp curse as he yanks at the pants, his button popping off and hitting the floor with a clattering sound. “I’ll fix them later.” He says, kicking the trousers off his legs as he dives towards you on the couch. 

You let out a soft moan as Quinn attaches his lips to your left nipple, his free hand grabbing hold of the right breast as kneads it slowly, before switching sides, your legs wrapping around his waist as you whisper - “God, please.” 

“My name is Quinn, and I expect you to use it.” He retorts, a wicked grin on his face as his finger tickle their way down to the waistband of your underwear, slowly slipping them down your legs and throwing them to the side - your pussy glistening as he sits back on his heels, glancing down at you. 

“What’re you doing?” You hiss. 

“Admiring the view.” He admits, his body jolting forwards as you use your legs to tug him back down towards you. 

“Well stop admiring and put your dick in me.” Quinns hands move faster now, his lips finding their way back to yours as he fumbles to strip off his underwear, his body slotting easily against yours as his hand guides himself to your entrance. 

“It’s as perfect as I remember.” Quinn says as he slowly pushes inside, a sigh of relief leaving you at the feeling of him after thirty long days. “God, your pussy is so perfect.” He groans, his hips slowly starting to rock back and forth, your arms thrown around his neck as you hold him to you as tightly as possible - his lips pressing gentle kisses against your cheeks as you let out a quiet whine. 

“It’s made for me.” He continues, his hands finding purchase against your waist gripping tightly as his motions speed up, his thrusts heavier as he pulls himself into a kneeling position, your arms loosening around his neck grabbing hold of the cushion beneath you. 

“Quinn, shit.” You hum, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as your throw your head back, his thumb rising to your mouth, your lips softly parting as he dips it into your mouth your tongue swirling around the digit before he pulls it back out - rubbing gently against your clit. 

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Quinn moans, his thrusts becoming more erratic, your hand letting go of the cushion to grip his jaw - pulling his face down to yours. 

“It’s okay.” You whisper against his lips, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw before adding, “Come for me, Quinn.” His movements halt, his hands leaving you to plant above your head as he lets out a low groan, your legs holding him against your as he whispers soft praise in your ear. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He apologises as his body falls against yours, your arms wrapping around him as you chuckle into his hair, pressing a kiss against his forehead.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, your fatigue already setting in as you try to yank the blanket off the back of the couch. “Let’s just stay here for a while.” Quinn humming in quick agreement as he settles against your chest, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair as your hands rub against his bare skin. 

“We didn’t use protection.” He notes, his dick softening inside of you, the bare feeling something new for the both of you. 

“We can figure that out later.” You admit, surprised that neither of you had thought to grab a condom before leaving for the event earlier tonight.

“I’ll go to the pharmacy in the morning for you.” Quinn murmurs, his words softer as his body relaxes against yours. “I’ll make this up to you.” He adds. 

“Quinn, really it’s okay… It’s been a long month for you.” You chuckle, Quinn huffing against your chest in agreement. “Well we’ve got the whole of December to make up for it.” You add, pressing one more kiss to his head before settling into your boyfriends embrace, your legs wrapped around him until the early morning, when he drags himself away from you starting the bath and pulling you away from the couch in a half asleep daze. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He whispers in your ear as he insists you go to the toilet before sliding into the enjoyably hot water, Quinn sliding into the bath behind you. 

“Thank you, for being patient with me.” He says against your skin, your body melting against his in the soapy water. 

“Just promise you won’t do it again.” 

“Deal.” 

[ebonyheartnet]

Jazzy still called him a baby, but Danny knew she was wrong. He was big enough to reach the microwave, and he could do his homework on his own. He could! He could totally do it! It was just boring is all. He could even read his own bedtime stories, okay? He was prakti— practa—

He was nearly an adult! Seven meant he was halfway there!

Danny didn’t really need to be babied anymore. It’s just… Jazzy said routine was good for them, and doing the voices just for her felt silly. He was being a good brother, okay? Okay.

“Stop squirming while I’m trying to read!” Jazzy snapped.

“Stop reading while I’m trying to squirm,” Danny taunted.

“Why you!”

Danny tried to get away, but Jazzy’s arms were too long. He couldn’t stop the giggles bubbling up if he’d tried.

“Do you yield?” Jazzy said in a fake deep voice.

“Never!” Danny laughed.

“Then you shall fall to the tickle monster!”

They rolled around on Danny’s bed, trying to get at an armpit or anything they could reach. He made a break for it, but the edge of the bed was too close.

“Danny!”

“I’m okay!” he said, nearly knocking his head into Jazzy as he popped up.

Danny didn’t fight Jazzy as she pulled him up. He knew it’d be faster if he just let her fuss for a second.

“How are you okay?” Jazzy asked. “You bruise so easily, and last time you were crying.”

“Maybe I grew up,” Danny said with a grin.

“That’d just mean there’s more of you to bruise, dork.”

“Fine,” Danny huffed, “I’ll tell you, but only if you keep it a secret.”

Jasmine frowned.

“Danny, do we need to have the talk again?” she asked carefully. “Secrets are dangerous for kids to have.”

“Not all of them!” Danny snapped.

“Yeah, but you’re seven.” Jazzy softened. “You’re really smart, okay? Sometimes that makes it harder to make good choices about risky things.”

“How does that even make sense?” Danny asked.

“Smart means you’re really good at making sense of things, right?” Jazzy waited for him to nod. “That means that sometimes you can justify—that means come up with a good reason for something—you can justify things too easily.”

“So I’m so smart that I can make something bad sound good?” Danny asked, scratching his head.

Jazzy nodded, looking smug.

“I still think that’s dumb, but okay.”

“I mean yeah, it kinda is.” She shrugged. “Brains are just long, electric spaghetti monsters. They’re trying super hard, but like, they don’t get a manual for their meat Gundam.”

“Gross!” Danny giggled.

Jazzy grinned as she leaned against the headboard and pulled Danny into her lap. He tried to wiggle out for a second, but they both knew it was just for show.

“So,” Jasmine said carefully, “are you gonna tell me the secret?”

“Can I show you?” Danny asked excitedly. “You’ve gotta cover your eyes though, it’s super bright!”

“Eyes covered.”

Danny grinned as he cried out his catchphrase and bathed the room in light.

“Going ghost!”

After she calmed down, Danny was happy to hear that Jazzy wanted to be part of his superhero team. She even agreed that secret identities were important, and that everybody who knew should play along—even their parents. No talking about it, except to her, Sam and Tucker to keep the secret, “because grownups might not break character.” She even wanted to work on training his powers to be sneakier!

Maybe they should try transforming without the light? Jazzy told him it hurt her eyes through her hands, and she was still kind of crying.

Maddie and Jack just had a wild realization that might’ve just changed their view on ghosts completely.

They’ve teamed up with the ghost kid, Phantom, a few times now. He’s nice for a ghost, sure, but they still aren’t so sure about if it’s genuine or not. One thing they’ve noticed is that when they’re not fighting, Phantom has these odd little… habits.

One of these habits that had them scratching their heads the most is when they touch him and then run, Phantom will chase after them both, touch them back or touch the other, and then put distance between him and the two ghost hunters with an excited, hopeful expression. He usually doesn’t fly and instead runs, which is odd considering how much faster he is in the air. This only happens when they’re not fighting, when things are as peaceful as they can be with a ghost kid around.

Tonight, it happened again. Maddie tapped Phantom on the shoulder and ran into the van to check on one of their inventions after hearing something inside. Phantom turned his attention to Jack and tapped him on the arm before running away from him. Jack decided to chase after him to see what would happen and Phantom seemed extremely happy and started laughing.

When Maddie looked outside and saw Phantom letting Jack chase him on foot while laughing and telling him to go after Maddie instead, it clicked.

Phantom wasn’t doing some weird ghost ritual.

He was playing Tag.

[ifwdominicfike]

spencer seems to be more interested in his crossword puzzle than his own girlfriend.

── .✦. ──

a week he was gone. a whole week on a case — and the first thing he does when he gets home is his stupid crossword puzzle. is he serious right now?? when he came through the door you were met with his disheveled, tired figure.

he dragged his way over to couch, settling in the corner with a news paper in hand and a focused expression. you missed him bad, you wanted to run your way over to him and kiss his pretty, pouty lips.

its been almost an hour and he’s still sitting there, making it seem like you weren’t even home. you did try to get his attention but you were only met with dry responses like a simple yes, no or a tired hum. “baby y’want anything to eat? i can order your favoriteee” you drag out the word to break the awkward silence. “no im okay” he mumbled before going back to his paper.

you scoff at his obliviousness, is he doing this on purpose or is he really that dumb? you roll your eyes as you flop down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for about 10 minutes until you got bored once again. you huff out a breath before making your way to the living room.

peaking around the corner to see if he was still there or not — he was. you make your way towards him, plopping down on the couch. you let out an exaggerated sigh while resting your head on his shoulder, looking up at him as he’s still focused on the puzzle. “whats wrong?” he asks, his gaze finally shifting to you.

“just missed you s’all” you begin shuffle around getting up from the couch. “but you seem to be busy so i’ll go back to the ro-“ your cut off by spencer grabbing your wrist and lightly pulling you back. “woah woah, where y’going?” he asks confused. “going back to the room? don’t you have your crossword to finish, old man?” once you’re out of his hold you make your way back to the room.

“baby come on don’t be like that-“ he stops when he finds you “asleep” cuddled in the comforter. “i know you’re not asleep” you hear the smirk in his tone but you don’t make it known that you’re awake. “come on sweet girl, m’sorry” he slips under the sheets and pulls you against his chest “please? i’ll make it up to you, okay?” he continues, you couldn’t take not talking to him so you swiftly turn around and straddle his lap.

“woah-“ before he could get another word out you shush him by putting a finger against his lips “no more talking love, just need you..” you duck down and bring your lips to his, his hands for your hips as he smiles into the kiss. “fuck- i love you”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

first spencer fic!!! i love this man sooo much ughhahsjsj you would have to pry this man from my cold dead hands. anyway!! i hope you enjoy <33 @her-favorite tagging you since you LOVE this man as much as i do 😽😽

also lmk if you would like to be put onto my spencer taglist!! and lmk if you don’t wanna be tagged in spencer fics and only in sturniolo fics :P (or if you’re fine with being in both 😭)

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem

[sugar-grigri]

CSM 182 : snow or the power of forgetting

the snow, eaten by CSM recently, forgotten

the snow, the illusion that lulled Aki in his last moments

the snow, chapter 182, where you finally put the pieces together

what does snow mean ?

What if I told you that Denji's reaction to Yoru's ambivalence was the wrong one ?

I'm not talking from a moral point of view, but purely from a narrative one.

What does Yoru actually do by threatening and kissing him ?

It leads to ambivalence, to a striking contrast that is unbearable.

But life is nothing other than this same diluted contrast, this mixture of negative and positive constantly associated.

When Denji says he can't master these two facets, these dirty tricks and all the problems he has to face, that's precisely what has become his worry.

splitting himself, splitting his surroundings, seeing obstacles as ultimatums.

All this may seem off-the-wall and crazy, or like an analysis to justify Yoru's behaviour.

It isn't.

Don't see his kiss as a kiss, but as a narrative perch for Denji to finally face up to himself

Why ?

Dirty things are what he's always hoped for, they seemed in essence extremely positive, they were the way out of his misfortunes

For Denji, doing dirty things inevitably led to happiness.

Denji gradually realises, thanks to several female characters, that these dirty things are not all positive.

You might think that Denji really took his time to realise this...

But it's far from easy for him; for him, life was a deep unhappiness, always, with no prospect of happiness

Or rather, he couldn't see happiness

Because his conception of happiness was restricted to those dirty things

Pochita, Aki, Power, Nayuta, Denji realised his own unhappiness after their disappearance, he only realised the presence of happiness through his loss

Because he hadn't done anything dirty until now!

Until the end of part 1, Denji is trying to rethink his vision of happiness and is trying to break away from normality, to raise his standards higher: eating steak, 10 girlfriends.

Even though he has come close to happiness, Denji doesn't realise it, because since that happiness wasn't eternal, it wasn't happiness.

Happiness remains a way out for him.

Tasting his definition of happiness, being kissed by Yoru, makes him realise that happiness has lost its meaning.

With each kiss, Denji realises that it won't bring him happiness, because it doesn't make him happy.

Little by little, Denji tries to get closer to something for the long term, not the moment.

That's why, he asks if "Asa" loves him.

Can he finally taste that unchanging happiness? Never taste unhappiness again ?

Asa is his downside, her intrusive thoughts, her internal panics, her reflections are preventing her from living in the moment.

And she doesn't want to live in the moment, because she doesn't trust her instincts (when for Denji they are a way out).

Her instincts led her to save a cat, causing the sacrifice of her mother.

But it was Chainsaw Man who made her realise that life can be excruciatingly bitter and sometimes sweet.

Inhabited by Denji, who is as lost.

How could Denji say something as right as that crap burger if he's lost too ? Life is disgusting, it's tiring and yet we keep eating this burger, thinking of dogs, cats and ice cream.

Because Denji didn't do it.

It's Denji perfectly fused with Pochita.

CHAINSAW MAN.

A double being, symbolically realising the ambivalence of life.

Denji was Pochita's happiness, hence her sacrifice.

Pochita was Denji's happiness, hence his unhappiness.

The constant association of happiness with unhappiness - after all, that's all Denji and Pochita's meeting is about.

Except that at that moment, Denji had come to the wrong conclusion, talking about sex, hence the feeling of unease, and a sense of rupture in his speech. The hope of supreme happiness makes us eat this crap burger, it's true. But it won't make us happy.

What Yoru shows, even though he's part of Asa, is that the concept of happiness and unhappiness make no sense to a devil ; they instrumentalizes them, doesn't understand them.

So she gets hit by Asa because, damn it, this concept of happiness and unhappiness belongs to men.

So Asa takes over and says she hasn't recovered from her mother's death because this event will always seem so unacceptable and horrible to her. Bad things don't disappear.

What changes is the memories we want to bring to the fore.

Snow.

Symbolising Denji's supreme misfortune of having killed his brother to the point of vomiting with guilt.

Symbolically, it is this same vomiting that spits out the snow.

The snow is not just a trauma.

Aki was obsessed by the memory of the tragedy of his family, who were also killed in snowy weather.

And when Aki decides to visit his family's graves, to pay his respects tragically at his family's graves

He can't do it

Because two idiots divert his attention.

Forcing Aki to look away from the unhappiness of the past

To face the happiness right in front of him.

What Aki realised just before his death was that he had never seen happiness, or rather he had chosen not to.

Because happiness isn't there to be found, it's there, it's just there to be looked at, plunged in a pile of shit but it's sometimes there, but we refuse to consider that this thing is happiness, we can hope for more, can't we?

You have to eat this crappy hamburger, even if it means throwing up.

This is the taste of happiness.

Back to the snow

Which you associate with Denji's sadness and Aki's death

Yet this snow fight is Aki's last happiness

Seeing that snow again, associated with that fateful day when he lost his family

Holding that snow in his hands, and playing with his little brother, a little brother he has found again

What if this scene wasn't something he had to endure, but a choice? Aki's choice not to see, the gun held to his eyes, the choice to lull himself into one last sweet illusion, one last bandage, one last cigarette, to escape from this reality that he had always stubbornly tried to face, to escape from it.

But Denji is crying at this point.

Happiness cannot be total happiness, it melts, like snow.

Unhappiness will always be diametrically opposed.

The fact remains that snow is this temporary oblivion, this misfortune that we take in our hands to make snowballs, this moment of fun condemned to melt, snow determines what we do with our misfortune and our happiness.

Snow represents what we decide to see.

It is the forgetting, or rather the silencing of painful memories.

To realize that the snow is cold is to realize the end of happiness, because you're not playing anymore.

I don't like playing snowball: I don't like pretending to be happy anyway.

These memories will not disappear, but we can choose not to see them too much

The snow will remain cold, it will be condemned to melt, it is this moment, what we do with this moment.

Because if it didn't melt, no life would develop

If happiness and unhappiness were not this constant ambivalence, this intermingling of happy and painful moments, if this ephemeral aspect did not exist

Then no life would exist.

When Denji vomits snow, it's because he realises once again the association between happiness and unhappiness that snow represents.

Disgusted by this sad reality too, of not seeing unchanging happiness, of seeing life not as a burger, but as a shit burger.

But the snow is beautiful and it won't stay.

Like these two.

[jjkarmy091]

Second Best- Jungkook (part 6)

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Jungkook woke up around 9:30 am. The first thing he did was check his phone in case he had any notifications from Y/n, but had none. He was seriously getting worried about this lack of response. Had something happened with the person Y/n left with? If that was the case he would never be able to forgive himself. He knew he should have gone after her, he's so stupid. 

He got up, took a quick shower, got dressed, grabbed his keys and left, he couldn’t keep up with this uneasy feeling. Putting his helmet on, he drove to the coffee shop Y/n worked. He knew her shifts very well, and that was the only place he could find her. When he got there, he parked his bike, took a deep breath and got in looking everywhere for her but still no Y/n in sight. 

“Hey there moto boy. What can I get you?” Sana asked. Jungkook looked kinda confused. “I was actually looking for Y/n. Is she on her break?” Sana frowned and looked at him suspiciously. 

“You’re kidding right?” Sana exclamed. “You are always together and talk to each otherall the time when you aren’t. You can’t tell me you didn’t know she took some days off” 

The world fell at Jungkook's feet upon hearing that. Y/n took a few days off and didn't even answered to his texts or deign to call? what the fuck was going on. Jungkook nodded his head, said thank you and left, picking his phone up instantly to call Y/n. “The person you called is not available. Please try again later” 

Fuck. Me

------------ 

Y/n fell in love with that place as soon as she saw it. Everywhere she looked she she felt immense peace and everything seemed so quiet and cozy, everything to make the weight on her shoulders disappear. Upon entering the chalet, they were immediately greeted by a gentleman at the entrance who directed them to the reception.

After checking in and receive the keys, they picked up their luggage and followed the gentlemanto the elevator, who was showing them the way to their "apartment”. Y/n couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing. Walking in, she’s faced with a very nice living room, with wooden walls and gray furniture. It had shelves with books, among other really cute stuff decorating the place. All very neutral and very light, exactly what she needed. On the coffee table was champagne and a plate with strawberries and chocolate with a small note saying "we hope you enjoy your stay as much as we enjoy your presence. Thanks for choosing us. Have fun" 

From the living room they went to the bedroom to organize their things. When they walked in Y/n was even more astonished. From their bed they had a view of the outside. She always loved snow and being there was filling her heart with so much happiness she wished she could live there forever.

“Where did you find this place and how can you afford it for both of us?!” Y/n exclaimed. Lisa looked at her with a funny look “My dad owns it. A benefit of traveling so much and not seeing his family for so long, not everything can be bad. I used to come here for Christmast and New year. It's crazy during those days and you know me, I love crazy and those were my favourite moments here”

Y/n laughed. Only Lisa could say something like that. 

“So… You know how to ski right?” Lisa asked out of nowhere. “Oh hell no Lisa, no way, not right now, we just got here we should—” Y/n argued back but was soon interrupted by Lisa 

“There's a snow suit in the closet on the right. We have a lot to discover we won't wait until tomorrow. You rest during the night. Come on princess, time is money” Y/n huffed while getting her suit to start putting it on.  How could Lisa have so much energy was something she couldn't understand.

They both got dressed and head out of the chalet. Y/n was amazed by the view, everything was perfect. But it’s not an adventure if something doesn't go right for Y/n. Out of nowhere she lost sight of Lisa, making her panick. She had no idea where she was.

Y/n looked around trying to see her friend but couldn’t identify anyone who would look like her. She started walking around worried about straying too far from where Lisa last saw her. Y/n was so distracted that she didn't even notice anyone coming close to her, ending up colliding with that person, causing her to lose balance and fall. The other person quickly knelt down, stretching out his hand to help her until she heard “Y/n?” 

She looked up, took the stranger's hand and straightened her hair a little, trying to understand where she recognized that voice from, until the stranger took the protective mask off his eyes and saw him.

“Taehyung?”  

Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife @11thenightwemet11 @jk97bam @11thenightwemet11 @cryingoverpixelsetc @bhonbhon @lostinneocity @almostpurplelady @meowforluv

[kkayyerr]

Go ahead and cry, little girl.

Summary: No matter how many times you had to try and leave your relationship with Rafe behind, you always seemed to find your way back to him and it’s getting annoying. This time Rafe would make sure that you won’t leave him again. Ever.

Words count: 1,7k

Warnings: Dark!Rafe, mean!Rafe, slight dom! Rafe, NSFW, smut, dark themes, daddy issues, family issues, abusive family, daddy kink, drugging, drug abuse, dub-con, overstimulation, orgasm denial, dumbification, slight dacryphillia.

You were sitting in your room, tears flushing down your face as you heard your father’s car leaving the driveway again. It had been happening every time when you and him had some sort of disagreement. Instead of talking about it and regulate his feelings he would just leave, abandoning you. Your face was puffy and gaze became even more blurry as your eyes saw the hit mark that he had left on your face, even though he promised you that he would never lay his hand on you ever again.

You knew that it was a lie, but for some reason you wanted to at least try and believe him.

Well, that was a big mistake.

When you made a decision about breaking up with your now ex boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, you had nowhere to go, but to your house, that was the same place that Rafe had saved you from.

Rafe Cameron was a great boyfriend, until he started losing his shit completely.

All those paranoidal thoughts and aggressive behaviors made you make a decision that you didn’t wanted to make at all. You had to leave before the cycle will repeat itself and you would end up in your mother’s place.

But still you had to admit, that he was the only one, who could’ve take care of you properly.

Who could’ve kiss you properly.

Who could’ve calm you down properly.

Who could’ve fuck you senseless properly.

You couldn’t help yourself but needing him, especially after every fight with your father, when you were feeling like a lost little girl, looking out for her daddy.

You put yourself together and put on that dress that you knew he liked the most, those pink tight dress that he had bought you right before your break up. Then you had put those little white bows in your hair, making yourself look all sweet and innocent, which you knew would make him forget about the way you had left him behind, even if that would be only for one night.

Soon enough you were standing there, at the Tannyhill’s door, praying that Rafe would be the one to open the door, and not someone else.

You rang the bell, feeling how your knees became weaker just because of the thoughts of him, his hands around your tired body, that was exhausted from all the sobbing.

It didn’t took him too long to open the door.

He would’ve lie if he would’ve said that he didn’t expect to see you standing there, all cute and trembling.

The corners of his lips tugged into small smile, he wanted to play pretend a little bit, made you feel yourself at least a bit guilty because of your previous behavior.

„Can I help you, mrs. independent?”

He asked mockingly, seeing you in that state, your face puffy and your eyes swollen made him feel some odd type of satisfaction. He knew that you were nothing without him, that you would crawl back just as fast you had left.

„It’s dad…again."

Your voice were quiet, but he had heard you loud and clear. Actually, he knew what probably had happened just after taking one look at you. That little outfit…

You were trying so bad to let him knew what you needed now without saying it.

Daddy.

Oh, you wicked little shit.

„C’mere.”

He said, quickly letting you inside and closing the door behind you. Locking the door.

Rafe gently pulled you closer, feeling how shaky you were and that almost made him smirk.

You were down bad and for some reasons it felt so good, knowing that this was the state that you would end up every time when you would leave him.

But you won’t leave him anymore, he would take a good care of that tonight.

„What do you need, baby?”

His fingers softly grabbed your chin, making you look at him. Rafe knew that you hated to talk about that out loud, admitting that you needed him out loud was so embarrassing to you, that one time you almost started crying, speaking about that.

„Use your words.”

Rafe demanded, looking you straight into the eyes, seeing how desperate you actually were right now. The thoughts of you needing him that much were not only amusing, but also arousing.

Fuck, you were so needy.

„Need you, Rafe”

You murmured, looking down because of the feeling of slight humiliation. But you also couldn’t denied the fact that you felt how your pussy is became wet, just thinking of how vulnerable you were right now. Sometimes you liked when he would take advantage of that, sometimes you liked him being mean to you.

„Sorry, didn’t quite catch that, who do you need?”

You knew what exactly did he wanted to hear.

Pervert.

„Daddy. Need you, daddy.”

Finally, Rafe was satisfied with your answer. His lips curled into the smirk, and his eyes darkened just for a moment. Then an expression of the fake empathy showed up, completely fooling your little lost mind.

„Do you want daddy to make you something to drink? Warm milk, perhaps?”

You nodded. For some reason, his care and his presence were the only two things that helped you calm down every time when you had a fight with your father. Even though mentally you were a grown girl, you liked how he treated you like nothing more but a little girl, you liked those moments when he would infantilize you even more.

Slowly you approached the couch and set down there, waiting for your drink, you haven’t even been paying attention to what he was doing in the kitchen, you knew that he had always knew better than you.

Rafe came back a few minutes later with a pink sippy cup in his hands, that he had bought for the special occasion when you wanted to feel…taken care of, as he would called it.

„Drink it all up, baby“

You took it with both hands a started drinking.

And the taste felt funny…

Something felt off, but you couldn’t tell what or maybe just didn’t wanted to tell exactly what was wrong with it. Warm milk slowly filled your empty stomach, and you felt comfort, just as it had happened every time before, but the comfort was strange. You felt how your thoughts started to quiet down.

„Thank you!”

You said, but your words came out different, echoed.

Rafe take an empty cup from your hands and then ruffled your hair gently, giving you a sly smile. You didn’t know what, but you could’ve tell that something was definitely weird about the whole situation right now.

Something about his behavior made your stomach twitch, as you felt a slight wave of anxiety washing over you.

„Listen, I have to…”

Just as you stood up from the couch you felt that your knees became much weaker, you almost felt to the ground but the pair of strong hands catch you by your waist, not letting you lose your consciousness just yet.

„Not so fast, baby. You think that you can just throw me away like a trash again?”

You tried to focus your gaze on Rafe’s face, but everything around you seemed so blurred, and your hearing was also slightly damaged. You gave him a quiet whimper as the answer to his question.

„Oh, I love when you’re get so quiet. Sadly, Ketamine’s effect isn’t forever.”

You could’ve guessed that his tone was mocking, but you were more busy figuring out how to at least start talking again.

His grip on your waist tightened, as your body now was almost fully in his hands, because you clearly couldn’t stand on your own.

„What? Don’t wanna me to leave you now? Huh?”

You quickly shook your head, the last pieces of your clear mind understood that you would probably end up dead if he would left you on the street right now, or anywhere beside the house.

„That’s what I thought."

He picked you up so easily, as if you weighed nothing. You didn’t even had to have a clear gaze to know where he was taking you right now.

Upstairs.

Room.

Locked doors.

Your body was put down in his bed, as he slowly were taking your clothes off. You weren’t protesting at all, maybe because you couldn’t, or maybe because you didn’t wanted too.

Little pink dress was now laying on the floor, you were left naked with only white bows in your messy hair.

„Want Daddy to make you feel good baby?”

Rafe asked, and you nodded.

Your whole body was shaking. It might’ve been a drug affect, but it also might’ve been the overstimulation that you felt.

Rafe’s fingers slowly started to play with your swollen clit. He didn’t even had given you any time to prepare yourself, as his two fingers now where already teasing your overly sensitive clit with the full force. He used you like a musician would use his instrument, listening to all that cute noises.

You bit your lip, trying to find strength not to sound way too pathetic right now, but with every try you were failing even more, as his touches got even rougher.

„Mhm”

You whimpered, one of your hands covering your mouth to give you at least some sense of control in that situation. You didn’t wanted to give him satisfaction by letting him know how much you were enjoying this.

„Wanna cum, baby? Already shakin’?”

You gave him a quick nod, and suddenly his fingers stopped just a few seconds before you could’ve get your relief. You gave him a glossy stare, trying to non-verbally ask him to go on.

„Beg for it.”

Your mouth betrayed you, when instead of a proper „please“ came out a the desperate whimper. You shook your head, trying again, and then again, but all your tries were miserable. You sounded like a pathetic puppy, trying to get at least crumbs of attention from it’s owner.

„Too bad, baby. Guess I’ll come back in the morning and we would go on from that moment. If you would ask me nicely, of course.”

Rafe teased, seeing how tears flushed down your red cheeks. He leaned down and gave you a forehead kiss one last time, before standing up from the bed and leaving the room. He then left you completely alone.

Overstimulated, crying and drugged.

Maybe you shouldn’t had left him in the first place…

Author’s note: Yeah, guys, that’s was pretty dark…

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: after comforting Daisuke a bit, you help Anya with Curly's medication. she tells you about the abuse she's faced on the ship, and you find yourself confronting her abuser.

tw: implications of rape, implications of abuse, graphic depictions of violence, death, murder, pure angst, dead dove: do not eat.

a/n: would you believe me if I said this series was just meant to be a fluffy one/two shot?

wc: 1.5k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight

You could only watch on in disappointment. Daisuke laid on the grated ground, arm thrown over  his face and mouthwash in the other. Walking over, you crouched next to his form, feeling sympathy for his situation. It’s been two months since the cargo hold was opened, and you were honestly proud at how resilient Daisuke had been against his mentor’s persistent badgering to get him to join him for a drink. 

With a short sigh, you softly muttered, “You look like shit.”

“You were right,” Daisuke groaned. “How does Swansea do it? I feel like my stomach is going to explode.”

“An alcoholic doesn’t drink to feel good,” You murmured, gently brushing some of his hair out of his face. “They do it to escape from their problems, but it just adds more to the pile.”

“How’re you so smart?” Daisuke grumbled, uncovering his eyes and tilting his head to try and look at you. “Aren’t we around the same age?”

Chuckling softly you shook your head in amusement, “Yeah, we are around the same age. I just have more experience in this area.”

“You were an alcoholic?” Daisuke exclaimed, sitting up quickly only to clutch his stomach with a groan. 

You snorted at his reaction, “No, but I have first hand experience with what it does to a person.”

“Oh,” Daisuke laid back down, trying to even his breathing to quell the nausea. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” You sighed, fully taking a seat next to him and sitting cross legged.

“But you were so adamant on me not drinking this stuff, and I did it anyway,” Tears pricked at his eyes, clearly a bit tipsy. “Is that why you flinch when someone gets angry?” 

Your eyes widened at his question, gaze averting from his figure, you ignored it, changing the topic, “I understand why you did it, it’s hard to say no to an authority figure, and you were probably curious too. It happens, as long as you don’t make it a habit it’s fine.”

“I’m never looking at mouthwash ever again,” Daisuke grumbled. 

…

You nearly messed up your task, flinching back at Curly’s muffled groans of pain. It had been four months since the crash all together, and this was your first time administering the Captain his pain meds. You didn’t realize how terrible it was, and you couldn’t imagine the pain he was feeling. But you stayed strong, holding his jaw closed so he wouldn’t spit the pills back up. Once you heard him swallow, you pulled your hands back, feeling guilty as he stared at you. No wonder Anya had resorted to asking either you or Jimmy to administer them instead, you weren’t sure how she had managed to do this for so long without breaking-

It’s like you willed it to fruition, the sound of sniffles coming from behind you. Turning around, you watched in abject horror as Anya slid down to the ground, curling in a ball, arms around her legs and head tucked in her knees. The image felt wrong. This was Anya, strong willed, enthusiastic, competitive, encouraging and kind…is this how Daisuke felt when watching Swansea turn into a shell of his former self?

“It’s all my fault,” Anya sobbed, a hand going up to clutch at her hair. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

You frowned, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Taking a seat next to her you slowly raised a hand and rubbed her back, “What are you talking about?” She tensed under your touch, both hands now pulling at her hair, and she shook her head. 

“I’m sorry,” You murmured, pulling your hand back. “You don’t have to explain-”

“I’m pregnant,” Anya whispers, brown eyes peeking over her knees to look at you, eyes red and watery. “It’s Jimmy’s. I told Curly, but nothing happened, so then I told Jimmy and…and th-that was r-right before the crash…” You felt your stomach drop, eyes widening at the implication. 

“W-was it too much for Curly to handle?” Anya asked, voice wavering as tears continued to stream down her eyes. “Is that why he crashed the ship? If o-only there were locks on the doors…if only I kept it to myself…”

“Wait what?” You paused, voice turning icy cold. You took in a deep breath, trying to quench the unbridled anger that suddenly flooded through you, this wasn’t the time or place to be angry, Anya needed comfort. “Anya, none of this is your fault. You had every right to seek help from the captain. If anything, this is Jimmy’s fault, why the hell would he-” You cut yourself off before you could rant, closing your eyes and continuing in a softer tone. “The company failed you, failed us. None of this falls on your shoulders.”

Anya leaned over and rested her head on your shoulder, gaze rising to Curly who could only watch on in silence, allowing herself to find just a moment of respite. Once again, you reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her arm in a placating manner. This time she relaxed in your hold, tears falling on your shoulder. You couldn’t just ignore this, couldn’t ignore the fact that Jimmy had abused not just your mentor, but friend. Who the hell did he think he was, walking around pretending to be captain knowing he did horrendous actions? Probably justified it like the asshole he was. God, you weren’t gonna let him get away that fucking easily. If Curly didn’t have the balls to help, you sure as hell were.

…

“The hell’s your problem?” Jimmy sneered at you. “You’ve become a real fuckin’ bitch, being nothing but a thorn in my side. You get off on making everyone suffer?”

“Hahaha!” You laughed maniacally, replying with a mocking grin. “That’s real fucking funny coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jimmy glared, that icy heat behind his eyes intensifying, but you couldn’t find it in you to cower anymore, feeling nothing but absolute fury in his presence. 

“I think you know,” You growled, face morphing into a scowl. “I should beat the shit out of you for what you did.”

Jimmy’s face darkened, but didn’t make any sign to fight against your claim. That made you angrier, he knew. He knew what he did was wrong, he just didn’t care. You felt like you were vibrating, the absolute fury rushing through your veins.

“I won’t tolerate insubordination,” He glowered. “I’m the captain whether you like it or not-”

CRACK

A rush of adrenaline flowed through you, heart pumping faster. Jimmy held his nose, pulling his hand away to find blood dripping down. Your hands were shaking, and without thinking, you threw another punch, landing right on his eye, causing him to curse out. 

“You absolute, utter piece of shit,” You swore, kicking him as hard as you could where it really hurts. You watched on in satisfaction as the middle aged man fell onto his knees, eyes squeezed shut in pain. “You know what, that’s actually insulting shit, at least shit has a use.” 

You were about to send one more kick to his side for good measure, really wanting him to feel just an ounce of the pain he put Anya through, but you were thrown off balance when he grabbed your leg mid lift. He pulled your leg towards him, causing you to wobble and fall backwards onto your back. You barely registered the pain, adrenaline diluting your senses. You barely had any time to think before Jimmy was straddling you, hands around your throat squeezing as hard as he could. 

Eyes widening, you felt yourself panic, body automatically trying to suck in a breath but failing. You tried to wiggle, to kick your legs and knock him off of you, but he was stronger, watching you struggle with an evil glint in his dark eyes. You began to claw at him instead, trying to pull his hands away, to try to claw at any weak spot you could find. Your lungs were burning, tears falling down your eyes at the dull pain in your throat. You tried to reach his eyes, maybe poke one out to get his grip to loosen, but your hands were shaking and it felt like you were holding up a ton of bricks. 

As you lay there, oxygen depleting from your system, you humorlessly realized you were going to die to this monster. You could barely make out Jimmy anymore, the world spinning too fast and turning dark at the same time, body going limp. Did this really have to be your last view before passing on? You felt guilty as well, you were leaving Anya and Daisuke behind, you wish you weren’t so selfish. Ashamed that you prioritized your anger and lashed out instead of going about the situation rationally. You just hoped they didn’t blame themselves, that by some miracle they could be saved.

And just like that, your consciousness vanishes, leaving behind your body that lays limp under the hands of an abuser.

[rocknrollwhcre]

…And Leave You With Nothing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F! Reader (18+)

Content Warning: Emotional distress, toxic relationship dynamics, verbal conflict, mild physical aggression, manipulation, jealousy, intense arguments, physical violence, fighting, blood/injury, aggression, and cringe fest 😜.

Summary: Eddie is willing to do anything to talk with you.

A/N: divider by @saradika-graphics !!!

Tags 🏷️ : @somethingvicked @prideandaesthetic

The air felt especially fresh tonight, crisp enough to make you take a deep breath and tug your coat just a little closer. Robin’s dad dropped you off at the curb, giving you a quick nod before driving off into the night. You’d been promising yourself to offer him gas money soon. Between him and Steve shuttling you to and from work, it was starting to feel like a debt you needed to pay—not that you ever asked for help. You sigh, reaching into your bag for your keys, when a familiar sound—a soft throat clear—makes you freeze.

It’s him.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice is low, almost tentative. He rises from the shadowed bench outside your house, hands buried deep in his jacket pockets as he takes a few cautious steps toward you.

You don’t even think before you turn on your heel, making a swift move to walk the other way, but his hand catches your wrist, just firm enough to hold you still. “What are you gonna do, go for a midnight stroll?” he scoffs. “You realize how dangerous and stupid that is, right?”

You wrench your arm back, shooting him a glare that could cut glass. “You know what’s really stupid, Eddie? Trusting someone who swore up and down that I had nothing to worry about.” Your voice shakes, and you hate that it does.

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. “Look, it’s… it’s not what you think. Can we please just talk?”

“I think we’re done talking,” you say sharply, brushing past him with a shoulder-check that would knock anyone else off balance.

“Babe, come on!” He calls after you, his voice laced with desperation, but it only spurs you to keep moving.

Finally, your fingers close around your keys, and you unlock the door, stepping just inside. Turning one last time, you lock eyes with him, and for a moment, he looks like he’s ready to say something—something that might change everything. But you won’t give him that chance.

“I expect my things back tomorrow,” you say, voice cold and final. “I’ll have yours ready too.”

And then you close the door, shutting him and his excuses out into the night.

—

“No way!” Steve exclaims, barely pausing to swallow a mouthful of pizza, his eyes wide with shock.

“I wish I was joking!” You take a sip of your soda, feeling the exhaustion of recounting it all.

You and Steve are on break, sitting in the food court, the noise of other diners humming around you. You’ve just filled him in on what happened last night. After you left Eddie standing outside, you expected him to go home. Instead, he’d stayed on your porch all night, waiting. This morning, he’d been at your door again, relentless in his attempts to talk to you, practically holding you hostage in your own house. Eventually, your mother, exasperated and protective, had called Chief Hopper, who came over to convince Eddie to leave before he wound up getting charged with trespassing.

“So, you’re like...really done with him?” Steve’s voice is cautious, as though testing the waters.

You let out a heavy sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “I have to be. He paraded Roxanne around just to get under my skin, and then he…” Your voice trails off, a lump forming in your throat. Steve’s hand reaches out, his warm palm resting on yours in a gentle, reassuring squeeze. You manage a small smile, even as a single tear slips down your cheek.

“Let’s get back,” you say softly, brushing the tear away. “Robin’s probably itching to take her break.”

The two of you toss your trash and make your way back to Scoops. As you approach, raised voices from inside catch your attention. You exchange a glance with Steve, and without a word, you both quicken your pace, pushing through the door.

Inside, Robin stands, arms crossed and eyes blazing, trying to block Eddie from heading to the back. “Eddie, I’m warning you,” she says firmly, “leave now, or I’m calling security.”

Eddie only laughs, defiant and almost unhinged. “Hopper couldn’t even keep me away,” he taunts, his gaze flicking over Robin’s shoulder. “You really think some mall security is gonna stop me? I know she’s here, Buckley—just let me talk to her. Please.”

“You’re not talking to anyone. You’re done here.” The sudden edge in Steve’s voice makes everyone turn. You’re surprised at the shift in his tone; it’s protective, firm, and completely unlike his usual laid-back demeanor. Slowly, he steps toward Eddie, eyes locked on him.

Eddie narrows his gaze, jaw tight. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice doesn’t waver, his stare unbreaking.

Eddie lets out a low chuckle, running his tongue along the front of his teeth with a smirk. “I was wondering when you’d finally grow a pair, Harrington.”

Robin scrunches her face in disgust. “Ugh, can we not do this? This isn’t the school playground.” But her words are lost on them as they continue their stare-down, neither one backing down.

“You should leave, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice low, almost daring him to stay.

Eddie tilts his head, accepting the challenge. “And if I don’t?”

Before things can escalate further, you step forward, placing a gentle hand on Steve’s arm. “Steve, please don’t,” you murmur, trying to defuse the tension. “Come on, just leave it alone.”

Steve’s expression softens the moment he feels your hand, glancing back at you with concern. But the sight only fuels Eddie’s frustration. His eyes darken as an idea takes root, and he sneers.

“Oh, I get it now,” Eddie says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve always had a thing for my girl, haven’t you, Harrington? Now that I’m out of the picture, you’re swooping in, playing the knight in shining armor. Trying to compensate for the fact that Nancy dumped you? What was it, huh?” His words turn venomous. “She saw what you were really packing and decided it wasn’t enough, so she ran to Jonathan—”

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to finish. With a flash of movement, Steve’s fist connects with Eddie’s face, the punch landing with a force that sends them both crashing to the floor. In seconds, they’re locked in a furious grapple, fists swinging as they roll across the tile. You and Robin rush in, frantically trying to pull them apart, but their anger has them locked together, fists and insults flying.

It takes a few bystanders stepping in to finally separate them. Two hold Steve back while Eddie sits slumped on the floor, blood trickling from his nose, staining his shirt.

You quickly take Eddie’s arm, helping him up. “Come on,” you say quietly, guiding him toward the bathroom to clean him up.

—

“Sit,” you say firmly, your voice leaving no room for argument.

“But—” Eddie starts, wincing slightly.

“Now!” You cut him off, your gaze sharp.

Reluctantly, Eddie sinks down onto the closed toilet lid, his eyes never leaving you as you grab a handful of rough brown paper towels and wet them under the faucet. Turning back, you tilt his chin up with a gentler touch than he probably deserves, dabbing the tissue against his bleeding nose. Eddie swallows, his hands hovering near your thighs, close but not quite touching—he doesn’t dare. One wrong move, and he knows he’ll lose whatever sliver of goodwill he might still have.

You glare down at him, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Stupid. That was so stupid. What the hell were you thinking?”

His eyes soften, the bravado slipping for just a moment. “I was trying to get your attention,” he murmurs, looking up at you almost pleadingly.

You let out a harsh scoff, ripping the tissue from his nose and tossing it into the trash. “If you wanted my attention, maybe you should’ve just made out with your new girlfriend in front of me again. That seemed to work pretty well.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, and he stands up abruptly, fists clenched. “I didn’t kiss her!” he protests, the words laced with frustration.

You step back, crossing your arms, disbelief etched into your face. “I know what a kiss looks like, Eddie. I’m not stupid! If you wanted to be with her so badly, you could’ve at least had the decency to break up with me instead of stringing me along for three years!”

You turn, hand reaching for the door, ready to storm out. But before you can leave, Eddie steps forward, pressing his hand against the door to hold it shut, blocking your exit.

“God, do you even hear yourself right now?” he snaps, his voice raw. “If I didn’t want to be with you, don’t you think I would’ve walked away long before now?”

You cross your arms tighter, your eyes narrowing. “Then why were you so quick to go running back to Roxy, huh? Why were you so eager to spend all that time with her?”

“Because—”

“Because nothing, Eddie!” you cut him off, voice thick with hurt. “You wanted her all along, didn’t you?”

His patience finally shatters. He slams his hands on either side of the door, trapping you between him and the cold, unyielding wood. His face is inches from yours, eyes blazing with a mix of anger and desperation.

“Would you just listen to me, you stubborn woman,” he hisses, voice rough and raw with desperation. “I’ll admit it was stupid—hanging around her, trying to make you jealous. It was a stupid, pathetic move to get your attention. But I don’t have feelings for her. I never have, and I never will.”

Before you can react, his hands reach up, gently but firmly cradling your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are intense, every word dripping with sincerity. “I love you. I will always be in love with you. I fucking regret everything that led us here. If I could take it back, I would.”

A lump forms in your throat, and you whisper, “Eddie…”

His grip softens, and he leans in, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his voice barely a breath. “I don’t want to lose you. Please.”

But as his face inches closer, you feel the weight of the hurt that’s been building up. With a quick move, you slip out of his grasp, his hands falling away as you step back and push open the door. Without looking back, you walk out, leaving him standing alone.

A muffled, frustrated shout echoes behind you as Eddie slams his hand against the metal tissue dispenser, the impact ringing out in the empty bathroom.

[buddiebeginz]

I'm really happy that Buck and Tommy are finally over (thank god) but there was so much I didn't like about this episode. Not only does Tommy have a history of racism, homophobia, misogyny, etc but he was simply not a good boyfriend. And like not just not a good boyfriend to Buck (which he was that) but like not a good boyfriend in general. Like look at how he talked about Abby (and I'm no fan of hers).

I know some of the stuff with Tommy was probably due to Lou's terrible acting but some of it was definitely writing choices. I don't get the point of writing a character to be a lackluster love interest at best and dismissive patronizing jerk of a boyfriend at worst if it's not leading somewhere in the story. It just feels like bad writing. A lot of the stuff with Tommy does. It's why I'm still amazed at how much that fandom acts like they're the greatest romance of all time.

There's also all that stuff that happened in 7x04 that I fear is never going to get brought back up again. I mean it might when Buddie goes canon (which I still believe will happen) but it might not just because if Tommy's gone they might not feel the need to address it again. But it was clearly Eddie's attention that Buck wanted in that ep (I wrote a whole thing about it here). You also have the fact that Tommy was showering Eddie was all this attention and gifts and the only time we saw him do anything remotely like that for Buck was in tonight's ep on their anniversary and it was tickets for a game Buck didn't even like so clearly Tommy wasn't that invested.

It's just this show has a habit of Buck staying in these relationships where he's not happy. Not knowing his worth and not speaking up to people who hurt him all so he can feel like he's loved. And I know a lot of that goes back to the stuff he dealt with as a kid but I'm just really sad they did this to him again. I get that Tim probably wanted Buck's first relationship with a guy to end on a positive note but then like I said why write Tommy the way they did since s7? If you take Buck and Tommy's relationship just as it played out on screen then Buck definitely should have been the one to break up with Tommy.

They wouldn't have even needed it to turn into a fight or this bitter angry thing it could have been a matter of Buck realizing that him and Tommy were just too different. That Tommy didn't really get him as a person and that could have been further made clear by having a moment where Buck calls Tommy out on always calling him Evan. I also don't get why they decided to have Tommy call him Buck in the breakup scene but then never address it any other time. Like they never really explained why he only ever called Evan and then didn't explain why he switched it up.

Like I said I'm happy they broke up but I just feel like in some ways I can't enjoy it. In both this ep and 805 there was scenes like at the graveyard where Buck acts like Tommy is this amazing important person in his life and I get that some of that is Buck trying to make his relationship with Tommy into something more than that is. And really connecting his excitement and newness of coming out with Tommy. But it still hurt to see him asking Tommy about moving in when I know Buck deserves so much better. He deserves a partner who will love him and see him for exactly who he is.

Connected to all of this I didn't like the scene with Josh, Maddie, and Buck either. I know some of that was probably the shows way of trying to make us think about Eddie and his coming out in the future but they were also talking about Tommy. Tommy doesn't get a pass for being a misogynist or racist or a homophobe just because he was in the closet. Also whatever happened with him and Abby in the past he was still talking shitty about her when he was on the date with Buck (in present day) so clearly his attitudes towards women haven't changed.

I like a lot about Josh as a character and he doesn't even know Tommy or about his past so I feel like he was just trying to educate Buck on some queer history. I don't entirely blame him for that speech he gave. I do blame Tim and the writers though. If they wanted Tommy to be seen as a guy who made mistakes in the past and had grown they should have put the work in to show him as such. The couldn't be bothered to do that even in his relationship with Buck. Truly hoping this is the last we'll see of him and also that not much time is spent having Buck mourn that awful relationship.

[sequinsmile-x]

Instincts

Five times Emily doesn't yell at her mother-in-law, and one time she does.

Part 1/6

-x-

Hi besties,

Hope you are all doing as okay as possible <3

Usually, I do these 5+1 fics as a one shot but I'm doing it a little differently this time and this will be a multi chapter.

The final chapter, the one time Emily does yell, will be based on a prompt I received!

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: none for this chapter, pregnancy in later chapters

Words: 2.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The first time it happens, she doesn’t even get to meet Caroline Hotchner. 

It starts a few days before, when she can tell Aaron is nervous the moment he lets her into his apartment. She smiles curiously at her boyfriend as she steps past him, her lips catching his cheek as his hand skims her waist before he takes her bag from her, hooking it over his shoulder, “Waiting for me in the doorway kind of makes me having a key pointless.” 

He chuckles, but it’s not the laugh she loves. It doesn’t come from his chest, doesn’t light up the space between them like it usually does, and it makes concern spark low in her gut. She furrows her brow as he closes the door, his focus on locking it behind them and setting the alarm. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, smiling when he turns to look at her, “I was just excited to see you.”

Emily hums, narrowing her eyes at him as she crosses her arms over her chest, desperately trying to read him - to see what had changed since she’d left him in his office at work just a few hours ago. She’d only gone back to her place to get more clothes. Her apartment was just a place where she kept her things these days because home was wherever Aaron and Jack were. 

She’d considered breaking her lease and just moving in with Aaron. All of their friends made fun of them for it, playful smiles on their faces when they teased her for the fact she still had an exit strategy. It would upset her if she knew Aaron thought that way too, but she knew he didn’t, his defence of her always fierce even in the face of joking from their friends. The truth was, something that they were keeping between the two of them for now, that they recently started to look at a place to buy together. She loved sitting in bed with Aaron, her back against his chest, his legs bracketing hers and his chin on her shoulder whilst they looked through listings together. Their favourites either bookmarked on her laptop or circled in the paper. She hated moving, it reminded her too much of her childhood, so she didn’t want to do it twice in quick succession. So for now, she’d continue to occasionally go to her place to pick up some things, content to live in this in-between stage before she finally had everything she’d ever wanted. A home made of brick and mortar. A home made of the man she loves and the boy she loves as her own. 

It was a future she was looking forward to. One with him and Jack and whoever else might come along too - the idea of having more children with him enough to make her giddy. 

“I only went home to get some clothes, honey,” she says, trying to pull a smile out of him, the smile that belonged to her. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, his energy still nervous, and she sighs, “What’s going on?” 

He clears his throat and puts her bag on his couch, “My mother called.” 

She raises her eyebrows, her arms falling to her side, “Oh.” 

His relationship with his mother was tense at best. They only spoke now and again, they exchanged phone calls on birthdays and holidays and occasionally sent each other gifts. Emily had never met her, but she’d overheard them talking on the phone, her name thrown around like confetti by her boyfriend, his smile always soft just at the mention of her. 

“Yeah,” he says, walking towards her, his hands on her hips, “She’s in town.” 

Emily nods, her eyebrows raising even further, already knowing where this was going, “Oh.” 

“And she wants to meet you,” he says, squeezing her waist when she opens her mouth again, a third oh dying on her tongue, “Look, if you don’t want to meet her, I understand. I know my relationship with her is hard, and that you probably don’t have a lot of good feelings about her because of that-”

“Honey-” she says, finally breaking out of the slight stupor she’d fallen into. She smiles and cups his cheek, “You’re rambling. You don’t ramble,” she runs her thumb back and forth over his jaw, “It’s cute,” she smiles when he turns his head to kiss her palm,  “Of course, I’ll meet her.”

The relief in his eyes is palpable, and she sees the tension in his shoulders loosen, “Really?” 

She nods and leans forward to kiss him, her lips stamped against his, “Really,” she says, her nerves dampened a little by the relieved look on his face, the look in his eyes that makes him look like the little boy who never quite stopped looking for his mother’s approval, “She’ll be my mother-in-law one day,” she says, her arms snaking around his neck as he pulls her closer, “It would be awkward if the first time I met her is the wedding.” 

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss her, putting all of his love into it. He tightens his grip on her hips so he doesn’t run to the bedroom to grab the ring he’d hidden in his sock drawer, not wanting to ruin his very meticulously planned proposal, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she says, “So, when are we going to meet her? Are you going to invite her here?” 

“No,” he says, sounding more sure than he had since she’d walked through the door, and it makes her smile, “I learnt a long time ago a mutual ground is probably the right call. She likes Italian food. That new place opened up downtown but it’s almost impossible to get in.” 

She shakes her head, carding her fingers through his hair, “Impossible if you’re not the daughter of a well-respected US Ambassador,” she says, smiling at him, “If the Prentiss name is good for one thing in DC, it’s for getting reservations.” 

He sighs, shaking his head, knowing any favour she asked for from her mother never came for free, “Em, I know how difficult your mom can be, you don’t have to-”

“Hey, what good are my mommy issues if I can’t use them to help you with yours,” she says, leaning in to kiss him, “I’ll call my mom, she’ll get her assistant to get us a table and then she’ll passive-aggressively berate my life choices for 10 to 20 minutes. And you can pay me back in sexual favours.” 

He chuckles and kisses her before leaning his forehead against hers, “Deal.” 

___

She’s able to focus on his anxiety instead of her own. 

If she didn’t know him so well, it would concern her. Make her think that he was worried about her meeting his mother and not the other way around. There was no room for her to even consider that he was embarrassed by her, that he was anything less than proud to call her his. All the nervousness he was feeling, the way he was squeezing her knee like it was a stress ball, was all about his mother. The women he’d come from but couldn’t be more different than. 

If there was one thing Emily understood, it was that feeling. 

She places her hand over his on her knee as he parks up and she smiles, “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I think if you squeeze my knee any tighter the joint might pop,” she says, and he lets go. She grabs his hand before he can take it away, linking their fingers together and cutting him off so he doesn’t apologise, “It’s okay, honey. It’s dinner. We’ll eat, we’ll make conversation with your mother. And then we can go home and have sex.” 

He chuckles and tugs their joint hands towards him and kisses her knuckles, “Why does it feel like our roles have been reserved here?” 

She smiles, “Think about it this way,” she says, leaning across the centre console to kiss his cheek, “Your mom lives five states away. We don’t have to see her that often.” 

He laughs, “I’m sure I should be assuring you everything will be okay,” he shakes his head at himself, “You’re the one meeting her. I don’t want to paint a bad picture of her. She’s not a bad person. She had a bad set of circumstances. My father was…a bad person and a bad father. She’s not a bad person, but she…” 

“Wasn’t a very good mother,” she finishes for him, and he sighs and nods as she flashes a half smile at him, “I’m familiar with the concept,” she unhooks her seatbelt so she can turn to face him, her smile soft as she runs her fingers through his hair, “We can just go home you know. We can turn around. Jack is with Jess tonight so we could just get in the tub. Hang out. You could repay me for everything I went through for our cancelled reservation.”

He shakes his head and kisses her knuckles again, “No. I want her to meet you. To meet the woman I love,” he smiles, “You’re going to be my wife one day. The mother of my kids,” his smile gets wider when she blushes, “You should meet my mother.” 

She nods and kisses him, “In that case, we should get going. Otherwise, we’ll be late,” she turns to open her door but he stops her, and she turns to look at him, “You okay?” 

“I need you to promise me something.” 

“Anything, you know that.” 

“You know how you made me promise to not step in if I think your mom goes too far?” He asks, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she sighs, already knowing where he is going, “I need you to make me the same promise.” 

She clears her throat, “Is she going to make me wish I hadn’t made this promise?” 

“Probably.” 

She chuckles, “At least you’re honest,” she huffs out a breath, “Well, I’ve had over 40 years of experience dealing with my mother,” she winks at him, “I can handle one night with yours,” she’s grateful to get a smile out of him, “It will be okay, honey.” 

He holds her hand the moment they are out of the car, his palm warm against hers as they link their fingers together. She’d always loved holding his hand, found a comfort in it that she knew he found too. In the moments when she let herself be romantic about it, she tells herself they were made for each other. That the reason her hand fits so well in his, the reason their fingers link together perfectly, is because they were made with each other in mind. 

His phone rings and he pulls it from his pocket, frowning as he turns it to show her, the word Mom flashing across the screen. They come to a stop on the sidewalk, stepping out of the way of other people, and he answers. 

“Mom, hi, are you at the restaurant already, we’re just…” he drifts off, and Emily can hear the voice of the woman at the end of the phone, but not what she’s saying, “Oh, I see,” he says, looking at Emily, his lips pressed together and his eyes drifting shut, “I thought you wanted to meet Emily,” he adds, and she clenches her jaw as she runs her thumb back and forth over the heel of his hand, “Well, yeah you can do that next time you’re in town. Or maybe we’ll come and see you.” 

She can hear the disappointment in his voice, can see the irritation in his eyes, in the way he’s holding himself, and she gets as close as she can to him to provide the comfort he’d never ask for. She rests her head on his shoulder, and the extra height her heels give her means he can rest his cheek on top of her head as he finishes the call with his mom, exchanging goodbyes and see you soons in a way that’s so polite it makes her teeth ache. After he hangs up they stand in silence, still in their strange embrace with her head on his shoulder and both of her hands wrapped around one of his. 

“She’s not coming?” She asks, even though she knows the answer, and she looks up at him. He shakes his head and clears his throat. 

“No. She’s not.” 

“Did she say why?” 

“She bumped into an old friend. Went for dinner with her instead.” 

She scoffs, “Instead of meeting up with her son?” She clenches her jaw, “Want me to call her back? I can give her a…” she drifts off when he raises his eyebrow at her, a hint of amusement in his smile, “Right. My promise. Does it count even if I haven’t met her yet?” 

He chuckles wryly and kisses her forehead, “I’d say especially then,” he kisses her again, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she assures him, “It’s not your fault,” she squeezes his hand and hates the look in his eyes when they meet hers. He looks like a lost little boy, entirely too much like Jack, and it makes her want to steal his phone when he’s not looking and break her promise only minutes after she made it. She knows she won’t though, bound by a promise they’d now made each other about their mothers respectively, and she knew how annoyed and hurt she’d be if their roles were reversed, “Want to go home?” 

He shakes his head, “No, Em. You went to a lot of effort to get this table-”

“Honey, I don’t care,” she says, cupping his cheek, “I can handle my mother if she says anything about us not using the reservation. I’m worried about you,” she strokes her thumb back and forth over his cheek, “If you want to go in we can, or we can grab a pizza on our way home and I’ll eat in my underwear to try and cheer you up.” 

He laughs, the sound more real this time, more hers, and he smiles at her, “I do like the sound of the second option.”

“I know my audience,” she hums and leans forward, stamping her lips against his before she rests her forehead against his, “Home?” 

He nods, blowing out a slow breath, “Home.” 

She kisses him one more time before she steps back enough for them to walk to the car, both of her hands still wrapped around one of his, “I’m sorry your mom did this, Aaron.” 

He sighs and unlocks the car, “Me too. I was looking forward to the two of you meeting.” 

She slips in between him and the side of the car before he can open the door for her, “I know,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “And I was looking forward to meeting her too. Despite…everything, she still gave the world you. And that’s something I want to thank her for,” she says, worry sparking in her chest again when he tightens his hold on her, something she can’t name flashing in his eyes, “Baby, what is it?” 

Aaron shakes his head, “It’s nothing.” 

“You can tell me,” she says, reaching out for his hand, “You know that.”

He blows out a breath, “I guess I just wanted her to meet you before we start the next stage of everything. Not because I feel like I need her approval or anything. But she’s my mom,” he smiles sadly, “It would nice if she cared enough to meet the woman I’ve told her I’m going to marry one day soon.” 

It makes her angry again. The heat of it washing over her in a way she knows has her gripping his hand a little too tight, her knuckles briefly paper white before she lets go, swallowing the fury back down because it’s not what he needs from her. 

Not today. 

Despite everything, the mere mention of their still hypothetical wedding makes her smile and she squeezes his hand, “I understand that, but if she misses out on anything it’s on her. Not you. Okay?” 

He nods, “Okay.” 

She leans forward and kisses him, “Now,” she says, kissing him again, “Pizza. Then home.” 

“And you in your underwear,” he says, smiling as he steps away so he can open the car door for her, “I seem to remember that being part of the deal.” 

“A deal is a deal,” she says, winking at him as he closes her car door once she’s climbed in. She’s alone in the car for a matter of seconds before he joins her, the key in the ignition as soon as his door is shut. “I just thought of something.” 

He looks over and sees the vague look of horror on her face, the way she scrunches her nose up ever so slightly, “What, sweetheart?” 

“One day our mothers are going to have to meet.” 

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 2 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : didn't get to do my word goal again:(( omg it's hard writing long chapters. thank you all so much for reading this story!!! please play mr perfectly fine by taylor for thiss

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread

NSFW contents : a peck?

Need a break and a change

Seven months. It had been seven months without Jungkook, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you could say with a degree of confidence that you were starting to move on. Or so you thought. The days no longer felt as heavy, and the nights didn’t drag on as painfully as before. You’d started therapy, and although at first, you were skeptical, it seemed to help—at least, it gave you something to look forward to, even if most of your sessions felt like venting to a paid story listener.

What did you talk about? Everything. The breakup, the pain, the endless nights replaying memories of him. The therapist always tried to reassure you, reminding you that there were plenty of other guys out there, which you were very much aware of. But no matter how many times you heard it, it didn’t make the ache go away. You told yourself that Jungkook probably moved on by now. 

Maybe he was with someone else, 

someone new, 

someone better. 

Maybe he never loved you, 

maybe you were just another chapter in his story. 

Or maybe he did love you but didn’t know how to show it the right way.

Regardless, deep down, you knew one thing for certain: if Jungkook texted you right now, asking for a second chance, you wouldn’t hesitate. You’d go running back to him, even if you told yourself you wouldn’t. Even if you wanted to believe you were stronger than that.

It wasn’t easy admitting this to yourself, but you were trying. Every day, you made an effort to rebuild your life piece by piece. Namjoon and Sana, your constants, had been encouraging you for weeks to step outside your comfort zone. They’d been incredibly patient with you, but tonight, they weren’t taking no for an answer.

“Come on, Y/N,” Namjoon urged over the phone. His voice carried a mix of persuasion and excitement. “You’ve been hiding away for too long. Let’s just go out, have some fun, and forget about everything for a while.”

Sana chimed in from the background, her voice equally determined. “We’re not taking no for an answer! You need this. Trust us.”

After a long pause, you finally sighed in defeat. “Fine,” you said, your voice laced with mock reluctance. “I’ll go.”

Namjoon let out a triumphant cheer. “That’s the spirit! We’ll pick you up at eight.”

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, contemplating your decision. Maybe this could be good for you. Maybe you’d find someone new, someone who could make you forget about the lingering ghost of Jungkook. You knew it was a long shot, but you were willing to try.

at the club

“Babesss! You. Are. Sooooooo. Hot!!!” Sana practically screamed over the music, her eyes wide with admiration. She gave you a playful smack on the arm, her excitement infectious.

Namjoon, ever the protective one, gave you a once-over with a raised brow. “Don’t you think the dress is a little… over-revealing?” he asked, voice tinged with concern.

You smirked, ready to tease him. “Oh, quit being a dad, Namjoon. Unless…” you paused dramatically, leaning in with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Unless you’ve got a daddy kink?”

Namjoon’s face turned bright red almost instantly. “I DO NOT!” he fired back, his voice cracking slightly.

Sana, ever the chaos queen, burst out laughing. “Ohhh, Namdaddyyyy!” she joined in, dragging out the word and winking at him. Namjoon groaned, hiding his face in his hands as his ears burned.

“Alright, alright,” you said between laughs, deciding to give him a break. “I’ll get us some drinks. Try not to corrupt Namjoon too much while I’m gone.”

Sana gave you a mock salute. “No promises!” she shouted as you made your way to the bar.

“Uh… a vodka tonic, please,” you said, pausing for a moment to glance back toward your friends. “And a gin and tonic, plus a whiskey sour,” you added. The bartender nodded, swiftly preparing your order.

As you waited, a presence sidled up beside you—a man, tall and composed, dressed in a tailored suit that screamed sophistication. His dark hair was neatly styled, and a pair of sleek glasses rested on his nose. He looked older, but not in a way that felt unapproachable. No, he was HOT old. The kind of man who exuded confidence and charm effortlessly.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was smooth, with a hint of playfulness.

You blinked, taken slightly off guard. Pointing to yourself, you asked, “Uh, me? You talking to me?”

He chuckled softly, a gummy smile breaking across his face. “Yes, you, silly,” he replied, his tone light and teasing.

You felt a slight warmth rise to your cheeks, but you managed to keep your composure. “Oh, sure. Of course,” you said, flashing him a small smile.

“What’s your name?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, his curiosity evident.

“Oh, um… Y/N. Kim Y/N,” you replied, your smile widening just a bit as you introduced yourself.

His eyes lit up with recognition. “Kim Y/N, as in the Kims?” he asked, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue.

You tilted your head in confusion, not entirely sure what he was getting at. “Uh… what do you mean?”

“RNT Inc.?” he clarified, his expression softening into a knowing smile. “Rhythm and Tune Incorporation. Your family’s company, right?”

Your posture straightened slightly, the familiar pang of recognition hitting you. “Oh… yeah. ” you said, your hand coming up to scratch the back of your neck in an awkward gesture.

“Impressive,” he said, his tone genuinely appreciative. “Cool. I’m Min Yoongi,” he added, extending a hand.

The name rang a faint bell in your mind, but it wasn’t until he added, “COO of Min Entertainment,” that everything clicked.

“Ohhh,” you said, your voice lilting with interest. “That’s cool.” You took his hand, shaking it firmly but warmly, offering him a genuine smile. “Nice to meet you.”

He returned the smile, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Likewise. So,” he began, leaning just a bit closer, “can I get your number? Maybe we could be friends... ”

The offer caught you slightly off guard, but you found yourself nodding. “Sure,” you said, glancing down, realizing you didn’t have your phone on you. “Oh, wait—sorry. I don’t have my phone right now,” you admitted with a small laugh.

He chuckled, unbothered. “No problem.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his own phone and handed it to you.

You took it, fingers hovering over the screen for a moment before you keyed in your number. “There,” you said, handing it back to him.

Yoongi nodded, pocketing his phone. “You got it. I’ll reach out soon.”

You offered a small wave. “Alright, see you around, maybe?”

“Definitely,” he replied, his smile lingering as he turned back toward the crowd.

You grabbed the drinks, balancing them carefully as you made your way back to your table. Sana and Namjoon were deep in conversation, but their heads snapped up when they saw you approaching.

“Finally!” Sana exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” you said, placing the drinks on the table. “Met someone at the bar.”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Met someone?”

You smirked, sliding into your seat. “Yeah. Min Yoongi. You know him?”

Sana nearly spat out her drink. “Min Yoongi? As in MCI Entertainment Min Yoongi?”

“Yep,” you said, sipping your drink casually. “He’s.... cool.”

Namjoon exchanged a look with Sana. “Cool? he's one of the hottest executives of that company girl.”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “He just asked for my number.”

Sana gasped, grabbing your arm. “And you gave it to him, right?”

“Obviously.”

It had been a year since Jungkook. One long year of piecing yourself back together, learning to stand on your own again. Therapy sessions had helped, though you often questioned their worth. For what? For these paid story listeners to remind you there are still plenty of men out there? As if you didn’t already know. Still, despite the frustration, you knew healing wasn’t linear.

And then there was Yoongi.

You’d met him seven months ago—an unexpected encounter that had slowly turned into something... comforting. Yoongi was patient, understanding, and most importantly, he wasn’t rushing you into anything. He knew your heart wasn’t ready, and he respected that.

So when he called one day, asking for a favor, you weren’t entirely surprised.

"Hey," Yoongi's voice was soft but laced with urgency. "I know this is sudden, but would you consider being my date to the gala tomorrow? My usual partner bailed."

A long pause filled the line as you considered. You hadn’t been to any high-profile event since before Jungkook, and the thought of stepping back into that world felt overwhelming. But the sincerity in Yoongi’s voice gave you courage.

"Are you sure?" you asked, voice laced with hesitation. "I don’t want to cramp your style."

"I’m positive," Yoongi assured, his tone warm. "You’ll be great. And honestly, I’d feel more comfortable with you there."

You sighed, a small smile creeping onto your lips. "Alright. It’s been a while since I’ve attended a gala, but why not?"

"Perfect," he said, relief evident. "I’ll send over some dress options tonight. Thank you, Y/N."

The call ended, and you felt a mixture of excitement and nerves.

Before the Gala

As promised, Yoongi called, his deep voice filling the quiet of your apartment. "I’m on my way. I’ll pick you up in a few."

You quickly hummed in response, glancing at your reflection one last time. Your stylist had done an incredible job—your makeup was flawless, and your hair fell in soft waves.

"Alright, Ms. Y/N, you're all set," your stylist said with a proud smile. Just as she finished, a knock came at the door.

"Ms. Y/N, your date is waiting in the lounge," the assistant informed you.

Taking a deep breath, you thanked your stylist and made your way out. As you entered the lounge, your eyes immediately found Yoongi. He stood there in a perfectly tailored black suit, adjusting his cufflinks. His dark hair was styled neatly, and the moment he saw you, his eyes softened.

"Wow," he breathed out, his gaze trailing over you.

"What?" you asked with a small laugh, feeling your cheeks heat.

He stepped closer, offering you his hand. "I’m so lucky to have you by my side tonight."

Your heart fluttered at his words. You placed your hand in his, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. "Shall we?" he asked.

"Of course," you replied, letting him lead you out.

At the Gala

The night had barely started, but you were already reminded why you had avoided events like this for so long.

As soon as you and Yoongi stepped out of the sleek black car, camera flashes erupted around you like a relentless storm. Paparazzi swarmed, their voices loud and persistent.

"Yoongi, is she your girlfriend?" "Ms. Kim, how do you feel about breaking up with Jeon Jungkook?" "Is this the start of a new power couple?" "Are you two together?"

The barrage of questions felt suffocating. You clutched Yoongi’s arm tighter, grateful for his calm demeanor as he guided you inside. He didn’t respond to the questions, instead keeping his focus on you, shielding you from the chaos.

Once inside, the lavish setting did little to ease your nerves. The grand ballroom was filled with influential figures, CEOs, artists, and politicians. You and Yoongi found your seats at a table among other high-profile individuals. The conversation flowed easily, but your mind wandered as you sipped your martini.

Your eyes caught on a figure across the room. A tall, broad-shouldered man with familiar brown hair. His back was to you, but you knew that stance anywhere.

Jungkook.

He turned slightly, his hand intertwined with a woman’s. His signature smile, the one you once knew so well, was directed at her. They seemed happy, lost in their own world.

Your heart clenched involuntarily.

Before he could notice you, you leaned closer to Yoongi and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. He froze for a moment, eyes widening slightly, then turned to you with a flustered smile.

"Are you alright, pretty?" Yoongi asked, his voice gentle but concerned.

You glanced back across the room. Jungkook was gone. You exhaled, trying to steady your breathing. "Mhmm," you murmured. "Just... tipsy, that’s all."

Yoongi didn’t look convinced. "Wanna head back?" he offered, leaning closer.

"We just got here, Yoonzz," you whined lightly, managing a small smile.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Alright. But if you want to go home at any point, just say the word, okay?"

You nodded, grateful for his patience. "I will. Promise."

Still, the question lingered in your mind: Who was she?

You didn’t think Yoongi would stay. Not after everything you’d been through, after all the baggage you carried with you. Yet, here he was—a constant presence in your life, steady and unwavering. A year had passed with him by your side, and while the wounds Jungkook left behind hadn’t fully healed, Yoongi had somehow made the pain more bearable.

You told yourself you liked Yoongi. It wasn’t hard to do; he was thoughtful, kind, and endlessly patient. He had seen you at your lowest and never once flinched. He took you to therapy sessions when you couldn’t face them alone, drove you to Jeju Island for peaceful getaways, and showed you places you love.

But deep down, you knew the truth. If someone were to ask, Do you still love Jungkook? the answer would come without hesitation. Yes. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise, a part of your heart still belonged to him.

And yet, Yoongi was different. He was like an angel, falling into your life at a time when you thought you didn’t deserve someone like him. His love wasn’t loud or overwhelming; it was quiet, tender, and constant, like a soft breeze on a summer day. He didn’t try to replace Jungkook; he simply stayed, filling the empty spaces with his warmth.

Sometimes, when you looked at him, you wondered what he saw in you. Why he chose to stay when he could’ve easily walked away. But Yoongi never asked for more than you could give. He understood your hesitation, your lingering feelings, and still, he chose you.

And for that, you were grateful. you were always grateful

It was an unusually quiet morning when your mom called you. Her voice was calm, but there was a weight to it, a seriousness that immediately made your stomach twist. “Y/N, we’re having a family meeting later today. Please don’t be late,” she said, then hung up before you could ask any questions.

When you arrived at the family estate, the large, ornate doors of the meeting room loomed before you. This room had witnessed countless important decisions over the years, and now it was your turn to step inside. As you pushed open the heavy doors, you were greeted by the sight of your family seated around the grand oak table. Your mom was at the head, her presence commanding as always.

Your cousins were there, whispering amongst themselves, their sharp features and expensive suits a reminder of the high expectations within your family.  there was Jin, your cousin, sitting calmly, his hands clasped on the table.

You took a seat, trying to ignore the growing anxiety clawing at your chest.

Once everyone had settled, Jennie, your sister, stood up. Her poise and elegance were undeniable; she was the embodiment of what everyone expected in the next CEO. The company had been preparing her for this role for years. So, what she said next completely blindsided you.

“Y/N, everyone,” Jennie began, her tone even but resolute. “I’ve decided to step down from becoming the CEO of our family company.”

The room fell silent. You could hear the faint ticking of the antique clock on the wall. You blinked, sure you’d misheard. “What?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your eyes widened, heart skipping a beat. “What are you talking about?” you blurted out, not even bothering to hide your shock. Jennie was the golden child of the family, groomed for this role since the day she could walk. 

Jennie leaned back in her chair, a calm but determined expression on her face. “I’ve thought long and hard about this,” she said. “I realized I didn't want it anymore. I want to be a model and start my own company without needing moms or dads help. I'm done handling all the pressure. It's better off with it being you, y/n”

The words hit you like a freight train. “Jennie, I—” You stumbled over your words, your mind racing. “I don’t know… I don’t think I can do it.”

Your mom, seated at the head of the table, leaned forward, her eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “Honey, it’s for the best,” she said softly, her voice laced with encouragement. “You’re capable, and we all believe in you.”

You glanced over at Jin, hoping for some kind of lifeline. He was always the voice of reason, the one who could find a way out of any situation. “Jin…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

 “Y/N, everyone would kill for that position” he said. “ you shouldn't waste an opportunity that big”

“But Jin, I majored in literature,” you protested, your voice cracking. “I don’t know anything about running a company. I’ll fail, and I’ll bring the whole company down with me.”

Your mom reached out, taking your hand in hers. “You won’t fail, sweetheart. You have a natural talent for leadership, and with the right guidance, you’ll thrive,” she said. “How about this? I’ll personally mentor you. We’ll set up a comprehensive training program, and by the end of the year... december, you can decide whether or not this is the path you want to take.”

You hesitated, the weight of her words settling over you. Could you really do this? Could you step into a role that had seemed so far removed from your reality, from your dreams? But then you thought about your family, about the legacy they’d built and the trust they were placing in you.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice steady but your heart pounding. “I’ll give it a try.”

The room erupted in supportive smiles and nods. Your mom squeezed your hand, and Jin gave you an approving nod. Even Jennie looked relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Good,” your mom said, her voice filled with pride. “We’ll start your training tomorrow.”

"I can't believe this," you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes in annoyance. You felt suffocated by the weight of it all

You walked out of the meeting room, your mind a mix of confusion, anger, and frustration. Everything had been thrown at you all at once, and now you were expected to just take it and be okay with it.

 As you walked down the hallway, hoping to get a moment of peace, you were met with jin, your cousin.

He was leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed, looking like he had all the time in the world. "You know, this position was my dream," he said, scoffing as he eyed you. "But look at me now. I’m just a CMO," he added, chuckling bitterly.

You stopped in your tracks, an eyebrow raised. "What are you trying to say, Jin?" you asked, already sensing the underlying tone in his words.

He gave you a knowing look. "Everyone would die for the position you were offered, Y/N," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But here you are, acting like it's some huge burden. You're being handed the keys to the kingdom, and you're just going to throw it away."

You couldn’t help but feel your frustration rise. "I don’t want this, Seokjin. You think I can just take over and magically become CEO? I’m a writer! I know how to make books, not run a multimillion-dollar company!" you fired back, your voice steady but sharp.

Jin rolled his eyes at your response. "You always have an excuse. You’re just making it harder for yourself." He scoffed again, his tone dismissive. "Can you stop being the shadow of the family for once? It’s honestly embarrassing. Everyone is waiting for you to step up, but you keep hiding behind your little books and stories."

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a brief moment, your heart tightened. "I don’t want to ruin the family’s reputation," you said, your voice faltering for just a moment. "I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to run a company. What if I mess up? What if I fail and get everything bankrupt?"

Jin's expression hardened, and his voice turned cold. "That’s why Auntie is giving you training, right?" he said with a sneer. "But let’s be real. You’re just delaying the inevitable. You’re not cut out for this. Maybe that’s why Jungkook dumped you," he added, his words slicing through the air. "He knew you didn’t value the wealth and power you were given."

You froze, your mind momentarily going blank. The words stung more than you cared to admit. "What?" Your voice was quiet, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

Jin shrugged, walking past you with a smirk on his face. "You heard me," he muttered under his breath as his shoulder brushed against yours.

The anger inside you flared up, but you couldn’t find the words to express it. You stood there, staring after him, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of his words seemed to settle into your bones, and for the first time in a long time, you felt small.

It wasn’t about the company, or the position, or even your family’s expectations. It was about the things you’d never said out loud—the guilt, the fear, the uncertainty. Was he right? Were you failing the family, failing yourself? Were you not cut out for any of this?

You stood there for a moment longer, the sound of Jin’s footsteps fading away as the hallway grew eerily silent. All you wanted to do was scream, but instead, you stood still, a single tear slipping down your cheek, before quickly wiping it away.

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[universalzones]

Surge scowls at Sonic, her lightning changing dark red as her strength seemed to double, maybe even more as she held him in place. The tenrec then punched the wall right next to the hedgehog's head, easily cracking it deeply which traveled high up the wall. "Yeah, because you look like in such a talkative mood right now. Don't try to play me for a fucking fool. I know everything about you, remember?" A face the speedster still hated, though it was the truth.

"Don't think I've been sitting on my ass all this time with The Restoration. I've been training and have a bunch of new skills so if you think you can just fight me off easily then you're dead wrong." Surge figured a long time ago Sonic never took their first fights too seriously, attempting to talk her down. Things were different this time around with abilities she's unlocked.

Surge ear twitches hearing Tails on the intercom attempting to talk Sonic down as well. "You also promised me something, and I expect you to keep it. Can't do that if you get thrown in a GUN cell with me." The tenrec was sure she wouldn't be getting your average cell, though not the time to think about that.

Surge finally let Sonic go, hoping he had calmed down enough to not sprint off again. "You want to thrash whoever is behind this after, then fine. Though I'm not failing him again, and I'm not letting you fail him. Is that clear?" The only person she trusted with that was Sonic by this point, and wasn't going to have him fuck that up. "And if you do fail him then I'm going to break every fucking bone in your body."

===========================================================

"Belle isn't controlling Belle Bot right now. It's most likely just running off basic functions as it's still in the early stages. That said, it is combat ready so if need be it'll go into on the offensive and I don't think GUN will have a fun time." Kitsunami was sure it could tear through several GUN squads without slowing down if need be.

"No, Starline was completely obsessive with only using Eggtech for my hydro-pack even when there were moments where getting GUN tech would've made it easier than rebuilding parts from Eggtech scraps." Even to the bitter end Starline was obsessed with Eggman. "Though I've since upgraded to be all custom parts working out and Eggtech. I also stayed away from GUN tech." Not worth the risk of them realizing he had stolen some of their tech.

"Try to hook up the coms to something portable so we can hurry on to my room. As much as I'd prefer to do this on my own I have no clue about GUN firewalls. Don't get the wrong idea, this is just to help Surge as best as I can." Kitsunami still seemed more worried about helping Surge than anything else, despite Starline being gone for so long.

Sonic was just seeing red in that moment. Amy meant to so much to him and seeing her hurt set him off. He wasn't even sure what he intended to do, or how he intended to do it. But he'd tear through GUN's forces one bot at a time if he had to. It wouldn't even be the first time he'd had to rip apart GUN's mecha. But clear as day he was outputting some serious power in this moment that Surge had not yet seen. Of course not, because he was never intending to hurt her and, never took there fights to seriously. Only when he got his ankle hurt did he realize how stupid that was.

but right here? right now? Only thing he could think of was pummeling GUN into submission! Even as they ran blue wisps of energy crackled along his body a sign of his internal energy building up. Yet a moment before he could reach the check point Surge blind sided him, slamming him into the wall with a thud. His eyes narrowing at her, and he leaned forward till he was inches from her face!

" Get off me Surge! I'm just gonna--- have a Talk with GUN's commanding officer... "

Yes a Talk, right before he shoved his head through a window or two! Really Surge was getting more of a glimpse behind Sonic's mask then she maybe wanted. All that smiling and cheer, and those bad jokes helped keep his anger bottled up... but right now? GUN had ripped the cork out and he was ready to give them what they wanted!

" Now stay out of my way! "

================================================

Tails didn't have much of an issue with Kit wanting to use his own network he was really just trying to help. He didn't have an answer for if GUN had a weapon to damage the giant Wisp but, he wouldn't put it past them. They were the same people who made Shadow, the same guys who were always trying to stay ahead of the curve. They even approached him once or twice wanting to hire him but he wasn't stupid enough to buy into that.

" Here, this is the Satellite coordinates and the code to access the admin privilege's. That'll give us eyes in the sky, use what ever network you want to access it. It's meant to keep tabs on Eggman, guess pointing it here won't hurt ..."

Tails crossed his arms eyeing the giant Wisp with concern

" GUN's got some of the best tech in the world... i wouldn't doubt if your ability to control water wasn't actually linked to GUN's artificial chaos project. That should tell you all you need to know... so i wouldn't put it past them to have a counter to Wisps in case they ever went hostile. They probably have counters to sonic and surge to...which is why we need to avoid a conflict... "

Tails turned to the Belle bot with a smile, seemed the little bot was as innovative as her father. Well at least that would count for something but, with the speed sonic was moving he wasn't sure if his words would even reach sonic before it was to late! If Sonic went in guns blazing it was likely this whole thing would go in GUNS favor.

" Thanks Belle... let's hope this works... and he'll listen. "

He picked up the intercom mic and spoke calmly into it though he didn't know if it would amount to much.

" Sonic--- You have to calm down! Listen we are all worried about Amy but, we need a plan! and if you go off half cocked you are playing into there hands... just take a breath! you know Amy wouldn't want you to go off like this... she'd stick to the plan! just... come back ok? we'll talk about it... together "

[blasphemous-lies-and-deceit]

absurd terms of endearment

"Delivery time!" Gerry called out as he barged into the Archives. To his delight, he seemed to have caught Michael unawares, his head jerking up from his papers to look at him with wide shocked eyes. His surprise turned into happiness as a smile spread across his face, the exact expression that had made Gerry fall in love with him the first time he'd seen it lighting up the gloom of the Archives.

"Oh," he squeaked in delight. "I don't remember ordering out."

"That's because this is a surprise, you silly sausage," Gerry teased, setting the container of homemade soup on his desk and rounding it to give his boyfriend a hug. Michael spluttered a laugh, his cheeks turning adorably pink.

"Silly sausage," he snorted. "Like you're one to talk, sugarplum."

"Oh, that's how it is?" Gerry sat on the corner of Michael's desk, a fluttery happiness in his chest at the lovely back and forth. "Careful, my warm cinnamon churro, you might be starting something you can't finish."

"And what might that be, my sweet boba tea?" Michael asked, fluttering his eyelashes as he leant back in his seat. "What am I starting?" As if he didn't know already, as if he didn't have a glint of mischief in his eyes that Gerry loved so much.

"It seems like you're trying to out-nickname me, mister fairy floss." Gerry's words drew a snort out of Michael, covering his mouth with his hand to hold back his giggles. "But if you can't handle a few sweet epitaphs, I don't think you can keep up with me."

"Now listen here, you vanilla macaron-" Michael started, but stopped when Gerry burst out laughing. "See, you can't handle it either!"

"Fuck," Gerry gasped, trying to pull himself back together. It was too fun to stop. "You're pushing it, cream puff," he warned, sending Michael into another round of giggles. "Don't make me switch to another food group, you deep-fried mozzarella stick."

"Oh no you don't, you Sunday roast," Michael shot right back with a grin. "I'm sweet, you're savory."

"Yeah, you'd know that, wouldn't you, my iced lemon cake." Gerry added a lewd wink to his words, and Michael shot forward in his seat, a determined glint in his eye.

"You greasy morning fry-up, you don’t know what you've gotten into," he said, words loaded with warmth. "My succulent steak with potatoes, I could eat you for breakfast."

"Wish you would, my chocolate truffle," Gerry chuckled, leaning in as well until they were nearly within kissing distance. "All these foody endearments are making me hungry."

"Don't you worry about that, my tender soup dumpling, I'll make sure you're very well fed," Michael purred heavily, his lustful eyes heavy as they trailed over Gerry, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Just you wait til I get you home. I'll load you right up with my sweet cre-"

"Enough!" A sharp yell cut them off, followed quickly by Gertrude appearing in the doorway of her office, looking incredibly cross. "Enough," she said again as Gerry toppled off the desk, laughing so hard his sides hurt, as Michael crumpled in his seat giggling just as hard. "No more. Pet names and euphemisms are no longer allowed in the Archives!"

"Oh, come on, Gee Gee-" Gerry started, only to be stopped by her accusing finger.

"Gerard Keay, I will banish you from these Archives, do not test me," she snapped, even as he continued to laugh. "And Michael, you can not eat that in here, no food is allowed near the documents."

"Oh, do we care about that now, gumdrop?" Michael shot back brightly, getting to his feet to help Gerry up from the floor. "Fine, I'll taking my break now. Since we're so hungry." He pulled Gerry close and pressed an obnoxious kiss to his cheek, earning another disgusted noise from Gertrude. Gerry grinned wickedly and wrapped his arms around Michael's middle, tugging him in tight.

"Careful, love, we don't want to offend Gertrude's delicate sensibilities," Gerry teased, earning an eyeroll and scoff from both Assistant and Archivist. It was over the top, but it was fun, and Gerry loved being able to joke around like that. Even if their lives were dark and horrible, at least he had some brightness to keep them going.

[citrine-elephant]

heavily inspired by @/silvercap and this

revisiting (boba) parasite papa leon.

the infection can be similar to the facehugger method, or it can be like lepotitsa.

for the lepotitsa method, it's quick. leon gets ambushed, doesn't have time to scream before that thing's french kissing him, and he blacks out after it's done and over with. he's found unconscious and it looks like he simply fell (or was pushed over) and hit his head.

the duration of incubation is about a week. he's hungry, then he's irritable, then he's starving, and then he's isolating. very quickly bitchy and moody and a lil angry brooding chicken.

it presents first with the stomach ache. leon's no good at hiding his pain and he brushes it off with a joke. "christopher redfield, did you get me pregnant?" after enough prodding, this joke shuts down the conversation entirely. especially when claire scoffs in disgust because now she knows her brother is fucking leon.

the way he isolates is easy to pick up on. when the insisting to see a doctor, or professor rebecca chambers, turns into leon snapping at them to leave him the fuck alone, they back down. suspiciously, of course. like damn leon, OUCH, but... it's unusual for him. they think.... maybe he's relapsing.... he's a prick when he's drunk, but...

chris probably wants to start arguing, but claire talks him down from pissing off leon more. she points out how odd this is. jill's probs scribbling notes with squinted eyes in the background. she's watching him, doesn't trust this whatsoever. she definitely gives rebecca a shout...

but even if his symptoms are obvious to the people around him, he still manages to evade capture and examination before he's got the nest built. he's gone MIA. no one can find him.

and while leon's incubating his parasite spawn... he knows something is wrong. he doesn't remember his infection. but he knows something is happening and this isn't good. but he doesn't say anything. he knows he should, but he wants to stay quiet. he needs to stay quiet.

and when he starts instinctively sealing the nest with some substance clearly not supposed to come out of his stomach... he knows.... but he doesn't care. he does, but he can't. he has to protect the nest.

it's when chris manages to break in that leon is immediately hissing and snarling at him. chris sees the fucking thing cradled in his arms. chris sees the sickly change in leon's eyes. the round, subtly red glow of the eggs glued to the walls.

eventually, after fighting the angry chicken and pinning him down. after killing all of leon's poor parasite spawns. it's found out that they don't have to put him down, too. thank god.

after a few days, the paternal rage is gone. whatever was making him so enraged and defensive made it out of his system. the idea for this parasite being -> multiple infections, preservation of the host. it really only works if the host is viable. and leon proves he's definitely robust enough for it. something something, the manufacture wants breeding machines or something. something horrifying like that. why waste a good host if he can continue making monsters?

there would also be downtime. while leon would no longer feel the need to protect these things, there's still pheromones that dissuade the infector bioweapon from trying it again. perfecting this weapon means not killing the host, and the poor guy's already exhausted.

there's this image haunting my brain of leon feeding this ugly little thing like a baby bird and-