#i did say i was going to be unreasonably bitchy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mariana-oconnor · 2 years ago

Text

The Naval Treaty pt 3

Yes, we apparently have got to the point where I'm memeing myself.

Right, last time, after Percy, Watson's old 'pal' from school failed magnificently at understanding how to protect confidential data, he followed an old woman into the night and the stress gave him a brain fever. Meanwhile, I'm still certain that Joseph Harrison, who has not been implicated in any way, is involved because I am a well-balanced and entirely reasonable person.

Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station

See! He's trying to get rid of you! 🤣🤣😂

“It's a very cheery thing to come into London by any of these lines which run high, and allow you to look down upon the houses like this.”

Last time we had Holmes looking out a train window: Ugh, look how terrible the countryside is! I can't bear it.

The contrast is palpable.

“The board-schools.” “Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules with hundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will spring the wise, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?”

Board schools are not the same as boarding schools, the internet tells me, but the first state run schools with no religious affiliation. I was about to be cynical about Holmes' view of children and Victorian educational standards, but I can't. He's right, those schools were important and really did pave the way for a brighter future.

And then a bit of mental whiplash as he snaps back to the case at hand, because he's Holmes.

In answer to the question, I can't say whether Percy drinks alcohol, but he definitely has a caffeine addiction that he should work on. If not for that, he wouldn't be in this mess.

Also, it was unreasonable of his uncle to expect him to copy so much text in a foreign language in one night. But even so, Percy needs to work harder on curbing his need for coffee.

"Then came the smash, and she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself pretty snug, stayed on too."

Oh, so he's just hanging around leeching off people, huh? Exactly as I suspected! This is just the beginning. Clearly, he's been a wrong'un all along and I will be vindicated.

"But to-day must be a day of inquiries.” “My practice—” I began. “Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine—” said Holmes, with some asperity.

First of all, Watson does have a job, Holmes. I get that you want to play with him, but he does have responsibilities. You really shouldn't be bitchy about that.

Second, if Watson actually cares enough about his patients to ditch you, that would be the first time ever.

“I was going to say that my practice could get along very well for a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year.”

See. No problem at all. Why would Watson ever do his actual job when he could be running around with Holmes? What a preposterous idea!

"...there is Lord Holdhurst.” “Lord Holdhurst!” “Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a document accidentally destroyed.” “Not a statesman with the honorable record of Lord Holdhurst?”

Oh Watson, my sweet summer child. Out there believing in unicorns and fairies and honourable politicians.

I discounted him because honestly, a political plot involving the politician uncle and corruption seemed too spy thriller. Also, the time frame of everything being nine weeks ago, I think discounts a political motive because if there were spy games going on, it would be far too late to do anything about it. Of course, it might be the case. These stories have surprised me a few times so far.

“£10 reward. The number of the cab which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of May 23d. Apply 221b, Baker Street.”

The Bank of England inflation calculator tells me that's equivalent to approximately £1000 today, which is a pretty impressive reward for a little bit of information. Honestly, I'd expect people to be climbing out of the woodwork to say they saw Queen Victoria herself driving the cab and dropping off Jack the Ripper.

"Why yes, Mr Holmes, I saw a man with a long white beard and carrying a large sack. No, it was right odd, y'see: he didn't go in through the door. He climbed up on' roof and went down the chimney, that he did."

"And then, of course, there is the bell—which is the most distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring?"

This is what I'm most interested in. What is up with that bell?

He sank back into the state of intense and silent thought from which he had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood, that some new possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.

Tell me! Tell me! I need to know. The bell is plaguing me.

a small, foxy man with a sharp but by no means amiable expression.

So Lestrade is a ferret and Forbes is a fox. Must all police officers be described as animals? This appears to be a pattern.

“You are ready enough to use all the information that the police can lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish the case yourself and bring discredit on them.” “On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-three cases my name has only appeared in four, and the police have had all the credit in forty-nine. I don't blame you for not knowing this, for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will work with me and not against me.” “I'd be very glad of a hint or two,” said the detective, changing his manner.

Forbes changes his tune pretty quickly here, so he seems open minded enough. Although it does seem a bit like he doesn't understand the purpose of Holmes. Yes, he's supposed to take all the evidence the police give him and try to solve the case. That's kind of how being a detective works. I get the emphasis here is on 'yourself', but still.

I like this exchange, because we've already seen in the stories that Holmes really doesn't care about the notoriety or the accolades - though he's more than willing to display gifts he's given in his own home - it's entirely the case and helping the people involved that he cares about.

Not sure he really needed to say that 'you are young and inexperienced' bit, though. Seems a tad direct.

“We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but she could get nothing out of her.”

OK, I thought it sounded unlikely that there were female police officers in the late 1800s, and it seems like the first female police officer in London was in 1919. But it definitely appears from this that they have women working for them - unless one of them has set his wife on a suspect, which... fair. Fascinating either way.

Also, Mrs Tangey has an alcohol problem, that could be an angle.

“What explanation did she give of having answered the bell when Mr. Phelps rang for the coffee?” “She said that he husband was very tired and she wished to relieve him.”

Alright, so it either was her, or she's involved in some way. Which I think we already suspected, but this clarifies that no one impersonated her without her knowledge, at least.

“Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started at least twenty minutes after he, got home before her?” “She explains that by the difference between a 'bus and a hansom.”

That's fair. Not everyone can afford their own taxi. Check your privilege, Holmes.

Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to represent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth noble.

I may have rolled my eyes at this bit. Watson sometimes needs to back off on his earnest belief in the glory of England and its political and social systems. He's so classist it's actually painful at some points. Even if he's saying the type is 'not too common' it just makes me wrinkle my nose.

I also don't like Lord Holdhurst, but that's mainly because I believe hereditary nobility is immoral and also because he is a tory politician. There was never any hope of me liking him. I don't think he murders puppies, but I bet he'd pass legislation saying that murdering puppies is okay in certain circumstances if his old chum wanted to start a puppy murdering business and was a generous donor.

"I fear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career.”

Yeah, that I do agree with.

“But if the document is found?” “Ah, that, of course, would be different.”

This, I do not agree with. Not after nine weeks, anyway. If it had been a couple of hours and the document was found to have fallen down the gap between the desk and the wall then he could probably just be given extra training and not allowed to touch confidential documentation without supervision for a few years. But it's been nine weeks. That treaty is lost. Even if it's returned, he still lost it for nine weeks.

“Did you ever mention to any one that it was your intention to give any one the treaty to be copied?” “Never.” “You are certain of that?” “Absolutely.”

OK. That cuts off that line of thinking, as Watson's insistence on him looking 'noble' clearly means we're supposed to believe him. But we already knew it wasn't him.

Because it's Joseph Harrison.

“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Russian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?” “I should,” said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.

Like I say, any political motivations would have been thoroughly completed by now, before Holmes was even called upon, so that's not likely.

“Of course, it is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—” “An attack of brain-fever, for example?”

Given he called Holmes in, I sincerely doubt Percy's involved. Again, if this weren't a Sherlock Holmes story, there's a slim possibility it could be that his brain fever cause amnesia meaning that he doesn't remember taking the treaty and causing the whole problem, but that doesn't seem like a likely plot here.

“But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his boots had been re-soled?"

OK so now we give him a motive, when you've all just gone on about how he's a 'fine fellow'? Are Lord Holdsworth's money problems going to be relevant to the plot? Maybe. We've heard nothing of Percy having any cousins, so as it stands he might be his uncle's heir. Not sure how that would lead to the treaty being stolen, but we'll bear it in mind.

Ah, and then Watson is racist again. Native Americans this time. These stories are really trying to spread the racism around, aren't they. This whole section is strange though, because it's about how Watson can't read Holmes' face, when multiple times (in this very story) he's said how he knows Holmes so well that he can instantly tell from his face what Holmes is thinking.

“God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keep our courage and our patience the truth must come out.”

She and Watson should get together and have optimist meetings.

Although, it's definitely your brother, Miss Harrison. I don't know how, but it is. It's got to be. We're running out of suspects. Mrs Tangey seems like she might be involved, but I doubt she's the mastermind behind events.

Maybe Joseph just bribed her into trying to discredit Percy, she saw the paper and thought 'well this looks important' and took it not really knowing what it was.

But that doesn't explain the bell. Unless it's because she was drunk and she stumbled and grabbed it. Or she didn't really want to be doing it, so she pulled it in a weird attempt to get caught. Or she let Harrison in and then saw him stealing something and pulled the bell, only to be threatened if she said anything.

“Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang up in his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believe that I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy, and that my life is aimed at as well as my honor?”

He's probably right to be worried - maybe not for his life, but I'm pretty sure this entirely thing is aimed at him, not the treaty. But at the same time, this does not sound like the thinking of a mentally healthy person.

"A man was crouching at the window."

No. No, you see it could be him. Of course you're going to want to make it seem like it was someone from outside forcing their way in. To keep the suspicion off the people who live in the house. It has to be him. Has to be.

Did he have a knife, or was it just something that looked like a knife... like...

uh...

The thing he used to unlock the window?

"As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others."

Oh oh... convenient, being the first person on the scene, huh? Was that because you weren't in bed asleep at all? Mr Joseph Harrison?

(If I am by some miracle right about this, it will be entirely undeserved as literally the only reason I decided it was him is because he seemed too happy and his sister is getting married)

"There's a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if some one had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so."

Okay... well... well... that doesn't really fit with my theory at all, but maybe it's a coincidence. People climb over fences all the time. Maybe it happened ages ago. I bet they don't check the fences every day. Totally not a sign I'm wrong.

“Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come, too.”

Why?

No, seriously. Why? Percy says Joseph will come, but not his fiancee? That's weird. Is it because Joseph is stronger if Percy needs to be carried back?

"I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing-room and dining-room would have had more attractions for him.” “They are more visible from the road,” suggested Mr. Joseph Harrison.

And right here we have the classic Columbo moment. I know Sherlock Holmes came first, no need to send me angry messages. But this is something that happens in Every. Single. Columbo. It's part of his method, it's kind of his whole method. He makes a comment about 'I wonder why the murderer didn't do x' to the person he (and the audience) knows is the murderer and the villain, in an attempt to cover their own tracks, immediately presents an explanation.

“Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old, does it not?” “Well, possibly so.”

Aw shucks, is Holmes not falling for your clever ruse? What a pity!

“Miss Harrison,” said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensity of manner, “you must stay where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you from staying where you are all day. It is of the utmost importance.” “Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes,” said the girl in astonishment.

Not the weirdest thing Holmes has ever asked a person to do - still remember Watson pretzeling himself behind the headboard that one time - but still kinda weird. I hope she has some sort of enrichment in her enclosure. Tell me she has a bookcase at least.

“Why do you sit moping there, Annie?” cried her brother. “Come out into the sunshine!”

Look! LOOK! He's trying to get her out of the room. He hid the treaty in the room and now he's trying to get it back but he can't! All aboard the Joseph Harrison train, next stop: Vindication.

Got to assume that even though Joseph wasn't present when Holmes was speaking to Anne, or when he was speaking to Percy, he will be aware that Percy is not in the house. But he'll only be able to break into the room by the window again, so I guess that is the plan. To catch him red-handed.

#Letters from Watson #The Naval Treaty #Sherlock Holmes #long post #It's beginning to look like I'm right #But that's absolutely nothing to do with my problem solving ability and everything to do with my natural paranoia and distrust #Also ACD has a type #We saw it in The Copper Beeches and in The Greek Interpreter #Men who laugh too much and smile too easily

33 notes · View notes

masked-and-doomed · 4 months ago

Text

NO! No, lambs. You are not going to make me feel like I've never known you. That would be very mean of you guys. They simply have a different interpretation, that is bound to happen, considering how little information we have on you as characters. I simply have my own views on them, they simply have theirs. We are not going to have a crisis over this. Clear?

Baldias I don't know when I'll finish writing your chapter. I think the progress I've made in the past week needs to be dumped in the rubbish bin. Yes I was gonna say trash but opted for the British option. Rubbish just sound funnier.

I think I'm losing it in this void, lambs. Darlings? Yes, you are darlings, as you are part of my family, but I suppose it just doesn't feel as nice on the tongue when it's in regards to you lambs.

I don't know when I'll finish killing you Baldias, I think this might take a whole year. Do I have a whole year? Fuck, I probably don't. Shit.

Well, at least you guys are important and whatever. You're at the tippy top, your guys' opinions matter most, and you don't have anyone above you to worry about disappointing. A whole load of responsibility but at least you don't have to worry about muddy feelings regarding that your downfall is a mix of your own inadequacies and stuff out of your control, rather than being strictly one or the other.

Oh right. I forgot. You're still just people. Haha. Yeah 2187 suckkedd. 3 of you died there. And you, leader, became a lost little lamb. You didn't. You don't? know what to do with your life. Present tense feels weird here. Time and space and all, fucky wucky in the void, it is. Hah.

Hm. Is there any truly saving me?

I know I know, I saved like, most of you guys. And you guys were war criminals. And I helped you become better. Or at least, will. She. I? She. Let's go with She. She hasn't wrote that part yet, but it's the intended future.

Ahah. What a big dreamer She was, and She'll have a bit to show for it. Not as much as She'd like, but enough to give an idea what was the dream She had, huh?

Why have you guys let me talk this long?

“I'm sure you're quite aware with that answer yourself.”

True. Fuckk. This sucks. Do you think sleeping will do anything? I did have more important stuff to do that I wasted time all on. Looking at your alternate selves. Ahah.

“I'd reccomend you'd do at least some of it. You remember all that you've taught us, haven't you? Better half-ass it than nothing.”

God, but I hate doing it. How did you fuckers get through all of that fuckin' paperwork.

“You just have to get it done. Useless whining about it.”

“Damn hated it. And I was the one who had mostly practical shit! I was this close to burning it all.”

“It's a necessary evil to go through. It's mostly tedious rather than difficult. Your situation is quite different.”

I fucking hate thinking. This is why I should've just been made a living weapon for you guys.

“You are, aren't you! I'd much rather have one that's less bitchy. Testament would've been more tolerable.”

Well, if you got Testament, none of you guys would learn to properly love eachother. You require my stupid ass and whimsy.

“...You should kill yourself soon.”

“Baldias!”

“It's not as if you're in a favourable situation. I must admit I can't exactly advise you much here. I can only hope that your fate isn't as grim as ours.”

I need to die, Chronus. I dunno what else there is for me. Nagito would hate me rn. I am sooo faltering at the sight of my future sucking ass. I can't even follow your guys' example!

“We had the whole world at stake. Powerful motivator.”

“I just hope you can keep your chin up as long as you can, dear.”

You're unreasonably nice, Libraria. For what I am.

“...”

When is this ending?

“You're the one that's God here, dumbass.”

“Baldias.”

“And? She literally fucking asked for it!”

“I second Baldias. She wants to hurt. Hurt, Baldias and I have given her in our years.”

“It doesn't mean it's ethical. Nor legal. One can't sign a contract agreeing to be harmed.”

You're pulling law into this? Don't you have better arguments? You're like. Literally controlling the UN.

“Firefly... You're the one writing us."

Right. Sorry you don't have a better argument.

“It's fine. You're letting this all out for some sense of relief right? Is this helping?”

Partially. It still feels like I'm grasping at a puddle that's reflecting you guys, being fooled by the illusion of reflective light. And I don't have the object in my hands.

Hrm. I'd say more here, but I'm worried there will be someone to watch this. Us.

“To have so many of your layers peeled for everyone to see, yet to still keep such a mask. You are quite the esoteric person.”

Compliment.. nice..

“I'm tired of this. Can you shut it, now?”

Ermmm you know what they say. Majority vote.

“Yeah, shut up already! I didn't want to be in your void at all today.”

So two in favour. Chronus, Libraria?

“With all your masks, I am quite curious on what more you could reveal.”

“I like hearing you talk. You're lovely to listen to, dear.”

Fucking tie. Fuck, man.

Should I bring in-?

“No.”

Wow. Not even darling doctor?

“You do remember him taking the news poorly, don't you? You're not losing memory this young, right?”

Shut upp. I just don't think good. Head so empty. Yet so full. Dammit.

Heh. Just like-

“Don't you fucking say his name.”

“Doll, do not speak of him.”

“I'm going to actually strangle you if you finish that sentence.”

“Dear. Do not complete that thought.”

I thought you guys were chill now,,

“Well, She hasn't written out what happens post White H-”

“Name.”

“Damn it.”

“Hrm. It was called Strive, was it not? The game that that incident was held in.”

Post strive?

“Hrmph. Fine enough. Back to my point, She hasn't written that yet.”

Right. Sorry about that. She'll get to it soon, I promise.

“And what's with all those Google Docs I see behind your back, vermin?”

Ermmm. Faut..... To help me cope...

“A chink in your plan, those past few hours were, right? It seems every fortunate thing comes with it's own misfortune for you. Poetic, I suppose.”

“And you wanted poetry, that's what all this has been about!”

I think Monika pities me and my poem skills.

“We keep getting off topic.”

“Can't do much. Since she's doing it all.”

Sorry. Sorry.

“How many times will you say it? When will you forgive yourself for once?”

You fucking know I'm not Faut, Chronus. I'm not you guys either. I'm not. I hate effort.

“What about your art, your writing?”

They're things I like doing. But I damn hate putting effort in things I don't like. I mean! You've seen what happened a week or two ago!

...

Ah... I'm tired..

“You're lazy. We know.”

“Perhaps it's time for your rest. After dinner, of course.”

“Heheh, rest. Yeah right. She doesn't feel any rest, does she?”

“Please take care of yourself, firefly.”

I love you.

“Hey! We're meant to say it first! Way to ruin things like you always do, cunt!”

Ahah. Thank you.

“Sentimental. Never thought I'd be here. But you keep doing your fuckery, and I'm pulled along for the ride.”

I'll make sure others love you guys.

“You should focus on loving yourself, dear.”

I don't have much.

“Still, try to push on, won't you?”

Maybe I'll have a last laugh.

Maybe I'll just be forgotten.

#girl what you on??#mask quartet

2 notes · View notes

venusiankittyxx · 5 months ago

Text

here we go a nice detailed chronological list to come back to whenever you so please.

• told me from the start that her toxic trait is being manipulative (& i was still surprised when i got manipulated, how naive)

• told me i am taking you from her. like, just told me i was.

• promised me nothing would happen when they went back to your room on ur bday party then came out and told me they did some things to you & then said “oh sorry, i only meant if you went back”

• she didnt like when i sent pics of us or anything yet continued on to:

• let me know before you guys had sex every time

• made sure to send pics of you guys cuddling

• wore shorts that said _____’s property the first time i went to her house 😂😂😂😂😂😂 a not so subtle bitchy woman trying to assert dominance move which is just some weird ass behavior for a grown woman

• told her i felt like you weren’t texting me much while you were away & a little later made sure to pull up all your messages together

• went to her as a woman to tell her BEFORE YOU how i was feeling because whatever SHE said was how i was gonna base my next move, i was fully ready to leave the situation at that point. she lied to me about how she feel (because she was just being nice!!! according to you). why be nice when it comes to how youre feeling?

• then you both twisted it on me saying i went behind backs to tell her when i didnt even tell her any details of mine & yours talk. she asked me how it went and my words exactly “good, he feels the same as me” (as in you liked me back, we hadnt decided to be monogamous at this point so thats all i meant)

• she told you i manipulated you and got into YOUR head. acted like i was cowgirling you from her when that was not my goal or intention from the start and i made that clear.

• sent me her using your socks “that she stole” as heating pads for her face?? why would you send that to me of all people

• started telling me you were arguing with her about coming out for her bday.

her: “i hate when i say ok and people just KEEP arguing”

me:” whos bothering my ______?😤”

her: “😂your boyfriend😂” *followed by a long paragraph insinuating that you guys are arguing about it

me: “im off for your birthday, want me to come hangout?”

her: “no i dont care at all. like AT ALL”

(only wanted YOU for her bday. little did she know i was gonna ask u to split a present with me for her and to get a cake delivered cus she wanted one really bad. but nah, not after that)

• wouldnt let me save our convos on snapchat always got upset if i saved anything incriminating her

• shared weird shit on facebook that was obviously for me or you to see

• other girl told me she got similar behavior from her, unprovoked, she just started telling me about it

• weird things went on until i blocked her in january

so yeah! call it beef or whatever you want. but try putting yourself in my shoes, how would you have felt about this behavior from an ex towards you, truly? especially when youre trying to tell your partner these things occurring and you’re getting little emotional validation on the subject and being accused of just trying to ask them to cut off their friend. on MULTIPLE occurrences.

so the day i blew up was my last fucking straw. im not dumb, i saw her slowly creeping back in. you rejoined the discord, she was messaging you more. you were very open with your things i just saw this shit on your screens openly. i went to discord my friends on your account & noticed your messages with her were deleted. now its come to hiding shit. i wouldnt have given a single shit if it was your friend on her account. im nowhere near as unreasonable as you believe i am.

now imagine its my last straw, i feel i cant even bring it up because of how the conversations have gone in the past. so i say “im sorry im done”, because i WAS done with THAT WEIRD SHIT.

you’re supposed to be on your lady’s side but it always felt like me against both of you. which is just not fucking cool dude…

1 note · View note

whinecrate · 1 year ago

Text

9/4/23

It could be the lack of sleep it could be the frustration of not being able to fucking eat anything and not being able to pinpoint why but then again it could just be that it's my bday and I get weird on my bday. As you should. Bottom line i feel bitchy much bitchier today than yesterday and yesterday was already kinda bitchy well it's probably same level of bitchiness but today there's gonna be more people and more triggers and it'll be much harder to make sure I don't snap and say the wrong thing to the wrong person

The thought is appreciated it's nice that you wanted to get me something but when people don't get me something I can appreciate that ok they respect that I didn't want anything but when you get me something regardless then it's like..wow you went through all that effort to show me how little you know me? Aw thanks

I mean what have I ever owned that's fucking pink. And bright yellow. And the expression is cute yes but the creepy kinda overly cute like when people have extremely sweet stuff. It's something I would get for little everyone who gave it to me before I get it for myself because it fits literally all of them more than it fits me.

And I hate people leaving me to decorate and prepare stuff for my own bday. I never asked for it it's nice but I don't really want it it's just that people actively telling me to leave ik that's not how they mean it but it's really hard not to take it like that and it makes me feel far lonelier than if they had just not done anything at all for it.

And I really do hate surprises.

And I really hate not liking any of this because ik they did try and they did put in effort and it just makes me feel unreasonable and bitchy to not like it and appreciate it like a normal person.

I really wish I could just disappear till the days over and show up tomorrow and everythings back to normal.

I genuinely feel fucking horrible i could cry i really want to i wish people would leave me alone

The wishes are nice tho. It's nice when people do remember and wish you. I wouldn't have minded if they didn't but it's nice when they do.

......

Ok my mood got better as the day went by.

They meant to get me the boba tea plushie but they couldn't so they got me this. Which technically I knew. Fair.

Taruns gift was cute too the card especially.

Spent most of the day with him and it was actually extremely nice. Lunch was nice desert was nice killing time was nice. The celebrations were also nice and i didn't even get cake on me. He was gonna kiss me. Actually going to. And we almost did. It was really really close but I got too nervous. He's really sweet and considerate and I'm glad things are how they are.

0 notes

alexiaugustin · 2 years ago

Note

Hello again it’s the anon who asked about abusive friendship a while ago... I waited to send another ask because I wanted to give you a specific example of what he does... A few days ago after I pointed out a behavior I hate about him (basically I always do what he asks and he rarely does what I ask) he said he is sorry and then proceeds to do exactly the same things. And idk if he is trying to change like he says he is or just genuinely just saying he’s sorry so he can be absolved or whatever...

Anyways I’m ranting, sorry...

hey, first of all sorry for answering so late, i hope that my answer can either still help you or maybe you’ve already decided on what is best for you and how to go through with it

obviously it’s hard to tell if someone is abusive if you have very little information on someone and/or don’t know them personally but from the little i do know this does seem like very red flag behavior to me, especially if you get to a point where you recognize the sort of imbalance where another person feels entitled to do things/ask for things while at the same time acting as if other people aren’t entitled to the same standard (as you described the fact that you feel like you need to do what he asks of you while he never does what you ask for. this kind of attitude also often shows when a person feels entitled to be angry with you, start fights etc etc while the other person doesn’t even dare to raise their voice or be annoyed with them because abusers then paint you out to be unreasonable and bitchy for no reason. also if you have already pointed out what’s bothering you and he still only promises to do better but then never actually does, that’s not a good sign either and id say that you did what you could to make sure whether the friendship is worth putting effort in and if your friend isn’t willing to change for the better then it’s simply not.

even though it might seem harsh at first if you get to a point where you are wondering if your friend is abusive the chances are high that he is because you wouldn’t think that abt a normal friendship even if there might be complications and misunderstandings. so my best recommendation is to never bargain with and beg abusers to listen to you (you’ve already tried talking to him once just as i tried to explain myself once and if people don’t want to listen there’s simply no point in trying to talk to them) but to cut them off instead and direct your time and energy to yourself and the people in your life who deserve your time and kindness

#this is just my view on whether I think your friend is abusive or not if you need any more help with dealing how to cut him off /distance #yourself you can always reach out to me again!!💞💞#ask

1 note · View note

sl-ut · 3 years ago

Text

i wanna be your girlfriend

PART FIVE

pairing: rue bennett x reader, rue bennett x jules vaughn, jules vaughn x reader (platonic), oc!piper x reader (mentioned)

description: rue and y/n are working on their friendship, but they soon realise that a broken friendship is much harder to fix when they both have feelings for each other. y/n and jules come to a disagreement.

warnings: canonical warnings; drug/substance abuse, sex, nudity, swearing, etc, etc. jules slander (not sorry), y/n is pretty bitchy (but not wrong)

words: 2.8K

date posted: 07/02/22

omg y’all don’t even know how fucking long this took me and how many times i rewrote this! it’s been almost two weeks since the last chapter, and i really am trying to get more chapters done more frequently, but i would also love love LOVE to diversify my blog a bit more by branching out into other fandoms. nearly all of my requests rn are for euphoria, and as much as i love them and will be working on them soon, i would love to see some other fandoms thrown in. just send a request, and if i know the fandom then i would love to do it, and if not i��ll try my best lol. ily all and tysm for all of the support on this series!!!!

masterlist

previous | next

The opinion that Halloween was objectively the best holiday was a hill that Y/n was willing to die on. She used to tell me that it was all about the candy, and I’m sure that for a time, she truly believed that. But as we got older and the costumes became more emphasised on tighter fabrics and low necklines, the idea of Halloween changed for her in a jarringly drastic way.

Instead of chasing a high that came only with a lethal amount of sugar, Y/n sought the comfort that came with shedding her own skin and becoming someone else for just one night. For her first high school Halloween party in freshman year, she went as “Oops! … I Did It Again” Britney, and after two shots of tequila and a Four Loko, Y/n no longer felt like she was wearing a costume, but like she was now in her truest form. Each and every Britney song that played (which was quite a few once Y/n found out who was controlling the AUX cord) was performed on the coffee table with not one ounce of energy wasted. The next morning, Britney was laid to rest and Y/n was revived. The next year, she was Black Widow, and once again, her normal persona disappeared into that of the Russian spy’s. I wasn’t sure what I could expect from Y/n every year once Halloween rolled around, but with how secretive she was actually being about it this year, I was actually starting to get a little scared.

Things were going relatively well between Y/n and I, all things considered. I guess you could say that we sort of went back to how it was at the beginning of the summer, with the additional awkwardness of less than platonic feelings, my sobriety, and whatever the fuck was going on with Jules.

The weeks following the carnival were, to be completely frank, really fucking weird. Nate Jacob’s suspension and potential arrest shook the school to its core, and Jules had been relatively scarce ever since, and when she actually bothered to show up, she was much touchier than usual, especially when I had anything to say about the whole “she fucked Nate’s dad” situation. Additionally, Y/n and I had barely gotten to spend any time together as we had planned, so all-in-all, I was having a terrible time.

“Hang outs have to be twice throughout the week and once on the weekend, minimum,” Y/n stressed, “And that doesn’t include groups, like Jules and Piper. Just us.”

Y/n had struck up several conditions as to what they should do in order to restore their friendship, and though they weren’t exactly unreasonable, it was just strange for her to be so uptight with Rue.

“Sounds fair,” Rue hummed, “But I have a condition of my own.”

“And what’s that?”

She smirked over at Y/n, already anticipating the reaction that she was about to get from her oh-so-controversial opinion, “No Megan Fox movies, seriously.”

“Rue, I swear to God, you better be fucking joking right now.”

These hangouts seemed to be pretty limited to whenever we could see each other outside of school, which was averaging out to be twenty minutes between the time the school ended until she would eventually answer Maddy’s call and go over to her place. Not to mention, most of the time that we did have together in school was always interrupted by Piper’s constant need to be feeling Y/n up at every given moment.

The week leading up to Halloween changed. Y/n’s time was suddenly all freed up, claiming that Maddy had decided on taking some ‘alone time,’ and suddenly, most of our afternoons were spent together, which, strangely enough, was around the same time that Jules was officially MIA. Anyone else would almost feel like they were just swapping them out for one another, and to be quite honest, I like the consistency of having just one person to worry about, though I had to admit that it was nice to hang out with Y/n and not have to listen to her drone on and on about some guy she met online.

Jules reemerged on Friday of that week, just in time for Halloween. I wasn’t entirely sure how it would play out with both Y/n and Jules together, especially considering that the last time they really interacted with each other, both of them were both pretty bitchy.

Something felt off about that Halloween, though. I’d gone to the party that Saturday night with Jules, Kat, Cassie, and Lexi, and all things considered, each of them were acting pretty fucking strange. Y/n, for some reason, really enjoyed handing out candy to the few trick-or-treaters that came to her place, and planned to meet us there, and I’m not sure that anything could have prepared me to see her walk in the front door as–

“Officer Judy Hopps!” Lexi shouted as she spotted Y/n.

“Reporting for duty!” She saluted the infamous painter, “Glad to see you could make it, Mr. Ross.”

Looking back on it, I don’t know how Y/n and Lexi have gone so long without hanging out on their own.

“Who?”

“Oh, come on, Rue. Zootopia?” Y/n placed her hands on her hips and did a small twirl, shaking her bum to show off the small cotton tail attached to the back of her shorts, “Don’t say you haven’t watched it.”

Rue pursed her lips and glanced over at Kat, who shook her head, “Uh, no.”

“Well then, thank you, Lexi. For making me not feel like I’m crazy.”

“Hey, if it's any consolation, you do look really hot.” Kat offered as she slid a red cup across the counter to her.

“You know what, I’ll take it.”

Y/n turned to Rue, smiling up at the taller girl as she lifted the cup to her lips, “Where’s Jules? I thought you said you two were coming together?”

“Well, not like together together, but…” Rue glanced around the kitchen of the large house, shrugging, “I don’t really know. She’s around here somewhere.”

Rue wanted to say that she was able to pick up on a small look of relief on Y/n’s face, her heart skipping a beat at the notion of Y/n being glad that she and Jules were not together. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she tilted her head back to swallow the contents of the red cup before she threw it aside, fingers wrapping around Rue’s wrist as she pulled her out of the kitchen and into the busy living room.

“What are you doing?” Rue watched as the girl whirled around, tugging her close enough that their chests touched as she began moving her limbs wildly to the beat of the music.

“Dancing, what does it look like?”

“Honestly?” Rue laughed, “It looks like you’re having a seizure.”

Y/n’s head tilted backwards as she let out a loud chuckle, though her bizarre movements did not falter. Instead, one of her hands interlocked with Rue’s, swinging her arm with enough force to cause her entire body to begin shifting from side to side until eventually, Rue began to copy her motions on her own. The two girls remained like that for what felt like hours, swaying in close proximity to one another, cheesy grins across their faces as their bodies moved against one another.

Rue raised Y/n’s hand over her head, twirling her around repeatedly and gasping out a laugh as their bodies were forcefully pressed together as Y/n struggled to keep her balance. Y/n grinned up at Rue, winding her arms around her slim waist as they continued to rock back and forth. For the first time in a very long time, it felt as if nothing had ever happened. Their eyes remained locked on one another’s as they swayed, foreheads touching as they leaned closer.

Y/n gulped, parting her lips as her breath quickened. She couldn’t recall the last time she felt so close to Rue. Even before she went to Maui and Rue was put in rehab, there was a period of time where things just felt different between them, where Y/n put a bit more effort into how she looked when she was with her, the way she snuggled so much closer while they lay in her bed at night. She hadn’t even noticed the shift in dynamic until she thought of Rue during one of her typical hookups, and even almost let her name fall from her lips as she tipped over the edge into ecstasy. Rue was like a drug to Y/n, and she hadn’t truly acknowledged how intense the withdrawals were until that moment. None of the other women made her feel the way that she did when she was with Rue, not even those who she had genuinely believed herself to like. Her eyes stung and became visibly glassy as she stared up at Rue, relishing in the whispery breaths that brushed against her warm cheeks.

“Rue…”

A third body slammed into the two of them, long, slim arms wrapping around their shoulders as they were forced out of their embrace, “Hey, guys!”

Jules was drunk, there was no denying it. Her body was unsteady as her fingers gripped into both Y/n and Rue’s shoulders for support, and her rosy cheeks were starkly contrasting against her otherwise pale flesh and bleach blonde hair. Y/n stumbled slightly as Jules shifted her weight against her, struggling for a moment to keep them both on their feet.

Rue’s face exposed the mixture of emotions that had struck her at the sight of her friend; Confusion, concern, disappointment… The corners of her lips tugged downwards, and in that moment, it dawned on Y/n how difficult it must be for Rue to be near so many different substances that were readily available for her consumption, and yet here she was, completely sober, and until just then, she didn’t even seem to be minding it all that much.

“Oh, hey Jules,” Y/n braced a hand against her back, “You doing okay?”

“Totally,” She slurred, “I just wanna party! Come on, Rue!”

Discomfort was clear on Rue’s face as Jules waved a red cup around in front of her, meeting Y/n’s concerned gaze over Jules’ shoulder.

“Rue, do you maybe wanna go grab her some water? I can stay with her.”

Rue nodded, pushing her way through the crowd frantically in the direction of the kitchen, leaving the two girls on their own. Jules stumbled slightly at the lack of support on her left side, red liquid sloshing over the side of the cup and dripping down the front of her long white dress.

“Jules, I’m not usually the one to rain on someone else's parade, but I really think you need to take it easy right now, for Rue’s sake.”

Jules chuckled humourlessly, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I be kidding?”

“Since when have you been doing things for Rue’s sake? Cause you definitely weren’t thinking about her anytime up until now. I knew I didn’t like you for a reason, I just didn’t realise that you were so fucking selfish.”

Y/n reached out, snatching the cup from her and dumping the contents out onto the floor behind her carelessly before she let the cup clatter onto the floor.

“What the fuck?”

“I’m selfish? You’re the one throwing liquor around in front of your so-called best friend, who’s a recovering addict.”

“You don’t get to say that to me,” Jules stumbled forward to sneer at the other girl, “You don’t know a fucking thing about me, so don’t ever tell me what to fucking do.”

Normally, anyone else would have had a broken nose for talking to Y/n like that, but this wasn’t just anyone, this was Jules. She would never admit to it, but I always knew that she put up with her simply to avoid upsetting me.

“You’re right, I don’t know a fucking thing about you, and honestly, I’d rather keep it that way, but we both know that this shit isn’t easy on Rue. You’re being a really bad fucking friend right now, man.”

“Fuck you.”

Jules shoved her away, storming through the crowd and completely ignoring Rue as she called after her. Rue turned to Y/n with a questioning stare.

“What the fuck just happened?”

“I just tried to get her to sober up.”

Rue shook her head, “Something’s wrong with her, I can feel it.”

Y/n ran her hand over the back of Rue’s suit jacket comfortably, scanning the crowd for the tall blonde. She easily spotted her across the room with Kat, who appeared her normal level of tipsy. She pointed her out to the brunette, who seemed comforted at the fact that she wasn’t just stumbling around on her own, though her body quickly tensed up as her eyes fell on the familiar frame of her younger sister, slumped into the couch next to the same kid who’d gotten her high at the carnival.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Y/n weaved through the crowd in an attempt to keep up with Rue’s rapid pace, almost slamming into her back as she came to a sudden halt in front of the couch.

“What are you doing here?” Gia sat up straighter, eyes shifting between her older sister and the girl standing just next to her.

“What am I doing here?” Rue scoffed, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Y/n recognized the boy as one of Chris McKay’s younger brothers, though she couldn’t decipher which of the twins he was.

“Getting lit,” He grinned up at the pair, tauntingly.

“I’ll deal with your ass later,” Rue turned to him with a dark look in her brown eyes, “Get up.”

“What?”

“I said get the fuck up.”

In hindsight, it may not have been my best idea to interrogate some prick who was trying to get into my baby sister’s pants with the two most ridiculously dressed people at the party. I’m sure that my intimidation attempt was slightly foiled at the sight of Officer Bunny behind me, though anyone with a single brain cell knew well enough to be kind of scared when an addict threatens to sic her addict friends on them.

Rue and Y/n watched in amusement as the boy, who they had learned was Troy, scrambled over to Gia, glancing over his shoulder at the pair of them every few moments. They shared a soft fist bump as Gia’s face lit up in glee as he began to flood her with compliments.

“Do you wanna get some air?”

Rue nodded, and allowed Y/n to lead the way through the living room and out through the large sliding doors that led out to the pool deck. The pair found an unoccupied loveseat on the opposing side of the pool, and quickly sunk into the soft cushions.

“You okay?”

Rue let out a shuddered breath, shrugging her shoulders as she leaned into Y/n’s warm embrace, “Fine.”

“Do you wanna go home?” She whispered, “I didn’t even think about how hard it actually is for you to be here until I saw Jules.”

She shrugged, “It’s fine.”

The pair fell quiet for a few moments, basking in the comfortable silence that came so easily to them.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Rue tilted her head to stare up at her with furrowed brows.

“That I wasn’t there for you. I can’t believe that I just let our friendship go so easily.” Y/n muttered, “I blamed you for so long, I even wanted to hate you for just ghosting me, but I didn’t fight for us either, and I can never tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Rue leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Y/n’s gently, not breaking eye contact, “You don’t have to apologise. I think both of us know that it was me who really fucked everything up. The drugs, the lying, that text…”

Y/n frowned, “Don’t apologise for the text, please. An apology is a shitty way to admit that you didn’t mean it.”

Rue watched her for several moments, scanning her face for any sort of humour. Not finding any, Rue inched forward just an inch, ghosting her lips over Y/n’s for a brief moment before finally laying a gentle kiss on the soft flesh. Both girls grinned widely as they pulled away, faces hot with blush.

“Okay. I won’t.”

MY WORK IS, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE, TO BE REPOSTED OR SHARED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. I HAVE NEVER GIVEN CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING SHARED, SO IF YOU SEE ANOTHER ACCOUNT POSTING MY CONTENT PLS LET ME KNOW.

tags: @ariianelle @charliesdaze @imdumbhi @a-wimpy-kids-musings @supmydudeswheresthedepression @7thavenger @paetonnn @buckysjuicyplums @babadowie

(willing to tag anyone else in this series, but i will not be maintaining any major taglists for the rest of my work)

#rue bennett #female reader #imagines #reader insert #x reader #euphoria #hbo euphoria #euphoria hbo #euphoria imagine #rue bennet x reader #rue bennet icons #rue bennet #rue bennett imagine #euphoria season 2

296 notes · View notes

jjuxii · 3 years ago

Text

CHAPTER EIGHT : GRUDGE

short written chapter

The next day

Every time Y/N practices on ice, she can always feel someone staring at her with grudge.

It was another night of rehearsals before the competition. It was 8 PM, all of the athletes were about to head outside the rink except for two people.

A lot of players raised their game since the competition was approaching fast. Most of the players stay in gruesome hours on the ice rink. Those players are usually Y/N and Jieun. They both don’t interact with each other. It was mostly silent throughout the whole hours of rehearsal. But today was different.

Y/N was at her locker room packing her bag when Jieun walked inside. Of course she did not acknowledge her presence that much considering that she mainly does the same everyday— but Jieun had other plans.

Jieun holds a grudge on Y/N. When Y/N performs on ice, she can’t help but hold a unreasonable grudge on her. Jealousy in short. She saw how her moves were stable and how she performed gracefully on ice. She felt that she would definitely be a strong competitor.

“You always go home late huh” Jieun breaks the silence. “Oh? Uh…. yes?” Y/N replied completely taken aback by Jieun starting a conversation.

“Public class schools like yours always end in last place. They don’t take this competition seriously.”

‘What is she saying?’ Y/N thought.

“You should know that you’re definitely not gonna last in this school. The last time we’ve invited someone from a low class school like you, the contestant dropped out,

because of how strong I am in every competition.”

Y/N stopped moving when she heard Jieun’s words. “I hope you realize that this competition is not a joke but hey,” Jieun approached Y/N, “In this competition, I’m going to win anyways” She smiled and walked away from Y/N.

Y/N stood in disbelief still processing on the fact that Jieun had a straight up bitchy attitude. But Y/N wasn’t angry..

perhaps Her words gave her a boost of energy.

masterlist | chapter nine

being able to have the opportunity to be one of the exchange students in arcadia academy especially at this year’s annual sports event and districts has it’s great perks and benefits for y/n until she spilt coffee on the soccer captain’s new soccer shoes.

taglist : @darrensos @letmeal0ne @yeonyeonyeonjun @day6andetcetera @stephsfav @ni-sh @pr0dbeomgyu @injeolmiin @ashxxkook @tsookies @strawbrinkofdeath @chonjaeidol @junqwonni @igotkpoops send an ask or a message to be added

109 notes · View notes

jared-19-cant-reid · 4 years ago

Text

Sunday Kind of Love

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: M

Summary: You need a date to your sister’s wedding, and Spencer begrudgingly agrees to help you out. Your feelings for him become difficult to hide, and Spencer really commits to his role as your “boyfriend”.

Word Count: 5.3K

Content Warnings: Family conflict, minor angst, unprotected sex, Dom!Spencer/Sub!Reader, bondage, daddy kink, spitting, choking, breath play, exhibitionism/public sex, teensy bit of sacrilege

Author’s Note: This fic idea came to me while I was listening to “A Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James, so I’d highly recommend listening to it if you read the fic. Gives you the ~vibe~. Anyway, this is way longer than I expected but Spencer and reader deserved the extra time! I hope u enjoy :)

“C’mon, just make an appearance with me!” You pleaded. “It’s just one night! How bad can it be?” I didn’t even believe the words as they came out of my mouth.

Morgan snorted at that, shaking his head as he moved to exit the bullpen. “Sorry, kid. I love you, but I am not spending my night off at your bitchy sister’s wedding.”

You sighed, reluctantly stepping aside to allow him to leave. Beginning to lose hope, you turned to your only remaining coworker. Spencer was still sitting at his desk, busying himself with organizing drawers and repositioning folders to avoid meeting your gaze as you approached his desk.

“Spencer, please come with me tonight. I can’t deal with my sister alone, and I think I might die if I have to explain to her that the guy I told her I was bringing ghosted me last week.” As you spoke, you watched him try to think of a way to protect your feelings without going. In the year you’d worked at the BAU you’d come to see everyone on the team as family, but it was Reid you felt closest to. When he didn’t respond immediately, you put your hand on his shoulder. “Spence, I need you.” You spoke quietly, but he heard you clearly.

He looked up at you at your last words, visibly conflicted. You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, and he sighed, standing up. Knowing you had won, you threw your arms around his neck in a hug, nearly sending the two of you tumbling over in your enthusiasm. He tentatively wrapped his arms around you, returning the gesture of affection.

His touch brought with it feelings of peace and happiness that you had come to associate with Spencer. Your smile grew impossibly wider as you thanked him a million and one times, squeezing him tightly as you felt relief spread through your body. Forcing yourself to pull away, you noticed his lips had quirked up into a small smile at your reaction.

“You know, almost twenty percent of weddings are called off. There’s still a chance it won’t even happen.” Spencer mumbled as you walked out together. You weren’t sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself. As you reached the garage, you thanked him again for agreeing to be your date. He just nodded, visibly nervous about the event.

You stopped him before he could start walking to the metro. “Let me drive you home,” you insisted, “it’ll be faster and we can talk over our game plan on the way!”

“Game plan?” He questioned, amused at your choice of words.

“Just pretend we’re going undercover on a case! We’ll get into character and everything. This can be fun if we make it fun.” Spencer seemed unconvinced, but he followed you to your car.

As you drove to his place, Spencer seemed to relax as he started to plan, happy to gain some control over the situation. You knew he hated big events, especially ones with a lot of strangers, but your deep dislike for most of your sister’s invite list meant you’d at least suffer together. Pulling up to the curb, you said a quick goodbye, telling him to be ready in an hour.

When you got home, you jumped through the shower, scrubbing off the stress of the work day to allow family-related stress to take its place. You quickly blew your hair dry, putting more effort into your hair and makeup than you usually did. As you reached your closet, you scanned your dresses for one that would match the maroon tie Spencer planned on wearing. A smile spread across your lips when you spotted it, your fingers toying with the soft fabric as you imagined Spencer’s reaction when he saw it.

You tried to push the thought away, sighing at your own hopelessness. You’d been trying to bury your feelings for Spencer ever since you joined the BAU, but it was a losing battle. You found it impossible to ignore him, despite your efforts to remain neutral in his presence. Your heart swelled at the excitement shining in his soft hazel eyes, skipped a beat at the sight of his tongue resting between his lips in concentration, and stopped altogether at the way his hands moved and flexed when he spoke. The opportunity to spend this much one-on-one time with Spencer in what you were sure would be an incredibly flattering suit was almost worth the stress of dealing with your family.

You slipped on the soft satin dress, admiring how it hugged your curves and flowed around your legs. The plunging v-neck was flattering, but tasteful enough to stave off disapproving looks from older guests, leaving you comfortable and confident. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your appearance as you would a stranger’s. The face that looked back at you was friendly but tense, hands fiddling restlessly with the soft fabric of your dress. It didn’t take a profiler to see you needed to relax.

Taking a deep breath, you cleared your mind, taking a few minutes to give your mind rest and ground yourself. Opening your eyes again, your reflection looked much more peaceful, nodding as you decided you were ready to leave. As you drove to Spencer’s, you felt your heartbeat quickening, this time from excitement instead of stress.

Knocking softly, you were surprised to hear Spencer’s footsteps already nearing you, as if he had been waiting by the door. As he stepped outside, your breath hitched. You shouldn’t be so affected by the sight of him, it’s not like he’d never worn a suit in front of you before. It was mostly the look on his face that struck you, his lips slightly parted and eyes scanning your body as he took in the sight of you.

“So what do you think? Good enough to pass for a put-together adult who hasn’t been dreading this day for months?” You asked.

He took a second to respond. “Y-yeah, you… you definitely shouldn’t worry about it. I mean you look great- not that you don’t usually look great it’s just-”

You interrupted him for his own sake, giggling a soft “thank you, Spence. You don’t look half bad yourself.” Understatement of the century.

Soft music played through the speakers in your car, soothing your nerves as you hummed along to “A Sunday Kind of Love” quietly. You almost jumped when you heard Spencer begin to hum with you.

“You know this song?! I didn’t know you listened to any non-classical music!” You exclaimed, unreasonably excited at your discovery.

“I’ve heard you listening to Etta James on the jet a couple times, so I checked out a couple of her songs,” Spencer said simply. You tried to pretend your heart hadn’t just exploded at the implications behind his words. You couldn’t trust your voice to mask your overflowing adoration for the man beside you, so you just smiled and began to sing along quietly.

Oh I'm hoping to discover

A certain kind of lover

Who will show me the way

Lost in the music, you were surprised for the second time that car ride by Spencer’s voice joining yours to sing the chorus. Your eyes shot to his face, but he kept his eyes forward, a small smile the only sign he’d seen your reaction. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face as you sang with him, his attempts at melody bringing a smile to your face. The words seemed to gain meaning as your voices joined together, both looking forward but focused fully on each other.

To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold

Love for all my life to have and to hold

Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love

Before you knew it, you had arrived. It was as if the bubble that had protected you from the reality of the situation had popped, leaving you exposed to the harsh world that lay waiting for you. Spencer reached out and squeezed your hand, silently reassuring you of his presence, his support, unwavering as you faced the night together.

Nodding slightly, you let go of his hand and stepped out of the car. Spencer walked beside you to the entrance of the church, close enough that you could feel his body heat. As you got closer, you groaned internally at the sight of your mother.

A fake smile stretched across her lips, nodding at a woman whose outfit was so brightly colored you nearly had to look away from the glare. Her smile dropped for a split second when she saw you, but quickly returned with twice the artificial sweetness as before. She called out your name, voice straining with the effort it took to sound happy to see you.

“This can’t be the boy you’ve been seeing! Much more handsome than I expected, how much did he cost you? Just kidding, of course.” Her laugh was somehow faker than her smile. You saw Spencer tense up beside you, and opened your mouth to correct her. She wouldn’t openly admit it, but you were sure your mother would be smug about the fact you and Spencer were just friends.

Before you could say anything, Spencer’s next words sent you reeling.

“Actually, I’m her boyfriend. Glad to finally meet you.” He said as politely as he could, though you could tell he disliked her already. Spencer had never had much patience for people who made jokes at others’ expense.

You were still processing what he’d just said when his arm wrapped around you, gripping your waist. The feeling of his hands on your body was almost too much for you, and you struggled to pay attention as your mother smiled and made smalltalk with Spencer that walked the line between passive aggressiveness and outright hostility.

You finally registered what was happening when your mother made some excuse to leave, off to emotionally torture a new victim. Your head whipped to face Spencer, your mouth hanging open, confusion written on your face.

“Why did you-” you began, interrupted by Spencer’s panicked words laced with regret.

“I’m so sorry, I know we didn’t plan on pretending to be a couple tonight, but she just seemed so smug about it and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I just-” he rushed out. Now it was your turn to cut him off.

“Spencer, thank you. I’m not mad, I promise.” You leaned into his chest, the arm still wrapped around you tightening. “I guess we’ll just have to pretend we’re dating for the rest of tonight, though.”

The two of you slowly made your way into the church, stopping a few times to chat with relatives who called out to you. Everyone was charmed by Spencer, who played the part of your boyfriend remarkably well. You found seats on the right, farthest from the aisle in an attempt to limit your interaction with other guests. Sitting down, you remembered how uncomfortable church pews were, the hours you’d spent in mass with your family all coming back to you now.

Looking around, however, you were reminded of what had gotten you through it. The stained glass windows that surrounded you created a kaleidoscope in your field of vision, capturing your attention for long enough to forget why you had been uncomfortable in the first place. You looked back at Spencer to find him already looking at you, sending a small blush to your cheeks.

“Did you know that stained glass was originally used in Catholic churches to tell stories from the Bible visually for the benefit of illiterate churchgoers? During the English Reformation, many stained glass windows were smashed and destroyed as part of the 1547 Injunctions against images. In fact, all images in churches were ordered to be removed. If it weren’t for that period in history, more stained glass would likely have- sorry, I’m doing it again.” Spencer’s eyes were cast down at the floor, only to shoot back up to your face when he felt your hand on his.

“I like listening to you. Why did they want to destroy all the images in churches?” You asked, leaving Spencer speechless for a second, seemingly unable to process your request for him to continue his rambling. With a small smile, he continued to explain the importance of the English Reformation to religious art as you watched him adoringly.

The ceremony started all too soon, pulling your attention to the front of the church. As you and Spencer listened to the seemingly endless stream of anecdotes about love and life that the pastor had clearly spent years reciting, your eyes started to glaze over. You pushed thoughts about marriage and family and religion out of your mind, preferring emptiness. Your mind didn’t stay blank for long, though.

Apparently Spencer had noticed your change in mood, because he brought his hand to rest on your thigh in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Unfortunately, you were unable to respond in any way, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand flattened against the satin fabric of your dress. His thumb beginning to rub small circles into your skin, you felt your heart rate quicken. The warmth he brought to your thigh began to spread through your body, suddenly finding the church unbearably hot.

Spencer seemed unaffected by the room’s sudden warming, keeping his gaze locked on the happy couple. You took a shaky breath and tried to calm yourself down, reminding yourself that you were overreacting to what was likely a completely platonic display of affection. The ceremony seemed to drag on for hours, but that might have had something to do with the constant effort it took to mask the desire and panic that Spencer’s touch had ignited in you.

You were broken from your trance of concentration by the feeling of his hand inching higher on your leg. Whipping your head around to face him, his gaze remained fixed on the pastor, pressing his lips together to hide a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Spencer’s hand slowly make its way up your thigh, paralyzed by shock and desperation. His grip tightened as he glanced at your face, reading your reaction to his touch. Before you had a chance to respond, it was withdrawn, the world around you coming back into focus as everyone began to clap. The ceremony was over.

When you went to stand up after the recessional, you nearly stumbled on your weak legs. Spencer stabilized you, guiding you through the pews and through the hallways with his hand on your lower back. As you followed the crowd to the banquet hall, the gears in your mind were turning slower than usual, as if they had rusted in the time you hadn’t allowed them to work through the idea of Spencer returning your feelings. Finding your seats, you and Spencer were faced with one of the greatest challenges of your night: extended conversation with your family and their similarly judgemental friends.

The overlapping chatter of so many people at once was clearly bothering Spencer, but he stuck it out for your sake. You felt a tug in your chest at the thought of the effort it must be taking for him to stay in such an uncomfortable situation. He played his part beautifully, though, responding to the borderline offensive questions directed at you politely but firmly, protecting you from their attacks. Your sister would usually have led the onslaught, but thankfully she was preoccupied yelling at the photographer for some suggestion she’d taken as a personal slight.

When Spencer struggled to answer questions about your “relationship”, you took over. He had never been a good liar, and while you loved that about him, you knew it could blow your cover if you allowed him to continue.

In your story, the two of you still worked at the BAU, having started dating a few months after you joined. You threw in small details from your countless daydreams, centering them around real events so that the tale was completely believable. Maybe too believable, you worried, feeling Spencer’s eyes on you as you talked. Under the protection of a lie, you had finally been free to speak the truth, pouring a year’s worth of pining and affection into your words as you concocted a love story you wished was real.

You heard a band start to play, a bluesy vocalist at the center of the ensemble. The music filled the hall as the newlyweds rose for their first dance. A small crowd gathered around the pair as they moved in synchrony, every step practiced and planned. A few songs later, many couples were swaying together, tonight’s celebration of love bringing out the romantic in most.

You turned to Spencer, nodding your head at the band. “We should probably dance for a song or two, just for appearance’s sake.” Spencer looked uncomfortable, but nodded and followed you closer to the source of the music.

Raising your hand to his shoulder while his landed on your hip, you felt a warmth spread through you as you joined hands. Fingers intertwining, you began to move along with the slow song that had been playing, stumbling at first but moving more smoothly as time went on. You had no idea how many songs passed while the two of you swayed, apprehension and desire swirling in the air between you. It took a second for you to notice it, but as soon as you did, Spencer’s small smile told you he had as well.

The smooth vocals of the singer sounded even more lovely on Etta James’s familiar melody, filling you with an intense emotion you couldn’t put words to.

I want a Sunday kind of love

A love to last past Saturday night

And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight

And I want a Sunday kind of love

The feeling in your chest grew as you looked into Spencer’s eyes as the song continued, your chest threatening to burst with whatever magical dust you’d inhaled from the shared breath between your faces. Wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his shoulder, you were overcome with a feeling of safety and contentment as he returned your embrace. You swayed together as you began to ponder the cliches you’d always despised, begrudgingly admitting that you now understood the sentiment that nothing in the world mattered but the two of you.

As the song ended, you gathered up all the courage you had, and spoke before your mind could think through the possible negative outcomes of what you were suggesting.

“I need to tell you something,” you started. You felt his grip on you tighten, as if afraid what you would say next would take him from you, but he let you continue. “I think I love you, Spencer.”

He didn’t respond, but you felt him pull away from you. You felt cold without the contact, but it was nothing compared to the loss you felt in your chest as you realized what you’d done. He didn’t feel the same way.

You opened your mouth to apologize, to try to undo the damage you’d done, but before you could say anything he was dragging you toward a hallway. Overcome with confusion and fear of losing him, you didn’t realize where you were going until Spencer opened the door to the single-use bathroom and pulled you inside.

“Spence-” you began, the rest of whatever you had been about to say swallowed by Spencer’s lips as they moved against yours with urgency, his hands coming to cup your face gently. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, the coldness you’d felt replaced by the warmest light filling your chest.

Your hands found his hair, pulling him closer to you as you tried to eliminate any space left between your bodies. A frantic mess of hands and lips exploring any exposed skin, you stumbled backwards with the force of Spencer’s kiss, hearing the door lock as your back hit the cold wood. Your hands slipped under his suit jacket, moaning at the feeling of his firm body under your hands. He shrugged it off completely, allowing the jacket to fall on the floor, his germophobia trumped by his need to feel your warmth.

You moaned into his mouth as his hands wandered your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. As the kiss became more heated, you noticed that he seemed to withdraw whenever he noticed his touch had gotten rougher, clearly holding back so he wouldn’t hurt you. You smiled into the kiss at the care he showed for you, but your desire to see him fully let go was too strong to allow it to continue. You weren’t sure exactly what he was willing to do, but you took your second biggest risk of the night, showing him what you wanted.

Finding his hand on your body, you laced your fingers between his, kissing him sweetly before pulling away with an innocent look on your face. Spencer stared down at you, confusion clear on his face. You brought his hand up to your mouth, kissing the back of it before moving your hand to his wrist. He watched you intently, unsure what you were doing. Staring up at him with an angelic smile, you brought his hand to your neck, his fingers curling around it instinctively.

As he realized what you were asking of him, his eyes darkened and his grip around your neck tightened. “This is what you wanted, huh?” He spoke lowly, a small smirk forming on his lips. “So needy for me. Would’ve let me fuck you in front of all those people back there, practically shaking just from my hand on your thigh.”

You whimpered, turned on beyond belief by this new side of Spencer. His smirk widened at your reaction to his words, pressing his body against yours, his hardness pressing into you.

“Feel that? Feel what you do to me?” He growled. “Let me show you how I deal with pretty little whores like you.” He stepped away from you, eyes hungrily raking over your body as he began to unbuckle his belt. You just stood there, watching his hands as your mind flashed back to all the times you’d imagined this happening. Somehow this was even better than your wildest imagination had been able to conjure.

“What are you waiting for? Get on your knees” He spat out. The words shot straight to your core, and without hesitation you dropped to your knees in front of him. You watched as he pulled the belt from its loops, but frowned in confusion when he didn’t discard it. He walked around behind you, grabbing each of your wrists and pulling them together. Oh. When he was sure the belt wasn’t too tight, he whispered in your ear how pretty you looked tied up for him, your whimper at the words causing him to let out a dark chuckle.

He returned to the front of you, leaning down to toy with your bottom lip. “Show me you deserve to suck my cock, princess.” He instructed, slipping his thumb into your mouth. You moaned around his finger at that, and instinctively began sucking on the digit. You hollowed your cheeks around it, running your tongue along the length of his thumb before pulling back to swirl your tongue around the tip. He must have approved of your demonstration, because he removed his thumb, pulling down the clothing restricting him in one motion.

Your eyes widened at his size, his smirk growing when you leaned forward instinctively to take him into your mouth. When he grabbed your hair to stop you, you looked up at him in confusion.

“Good girls ask for permission.” Your eyes fluttered shut at that, wanting nothing more than to be good for him.

“Please, let me suck you off, I want you in my mouth,” you begged. He seemed pleased, his hand still in your hair pulling you forward. When your lips wrapped around his cock the hand on your head pushed you down roughly, making you take all of him into your mouth, the tip pressing hard against the back of your throat. You moaned through the gag, your panties likely soaked by now from your arousal at his dominance.

As he began to fuck your throat, you wrapped your lips around him tightly, timing your breaths so you wouldn’t have to stop for air. Words of praise mixed with degradation fell from his lips as he worked your mouth on him. Tears pricked at your eyes at the feeling of him against your throat, spilling over as he continued his ruthless pace.

When he pulled you off of him, a dark smile appeared on Spencer’s face at your disheveled state. He pulled you up so you were standing before him, hands still bound behind your back. He stepped back to admire you.

“Look at you, such a mess for me. What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked, voice still commanding but much softer now, genuinely checking in with you.

“I want you, please, need it so bad,” you practically moaned. He moved forward to meet your mouth with his, one hand coming to rest around your throat while the other gripped your hair, fully in control of your movements. He pulled your hair back, breaking the kiss as he tilted your head up to look him in the eyes.

“Jump.” He commanded. You didn’t hesitate, wrapping your legs around him as he walked you over to the sink, setting you down on the cold porcelain. His mouth rejoined with yours the second you felt the bowl of the sink digging into you. As Spencer’s hands roamed your body, he lost patience with your dress, pulling it down so your tits spilled out of the top. You moaned as he took one nipple into his mouth, a skilled hand toying with the other. His other hand lowered to the hem of your dress, pushing it up to gain full access to you.

Spencer moaned against your chest as he felt the dampness of your panties, soaked all the way through before he had even started to pleasure you. His fingers ran up and down over the wet fabric, applying pressure over your clit that sent your eyes rolling back. You made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact when he withdrew his hand, but were quickly silenced by a hand over your mouth.

“You’ll take what I give you, slut.” Spencer gritted out, tearing your panties off with the last word. His hand came up to your entrance, teasing you as his fingers ran up and down your slit. Gathering your wetness, he moved up to your clit, rubbing circles that left you moaning uncontrollably into his hand. “Can you snap for me, baby?” He asked. You were confused, but you did anyway. “Good girl. That’s your safeword for when you can’t talk.”

Before you could read too much into the statement, he plunged a finger deep into you, causing you to arch your back into him. Your moans still muffled by his hand, he set a brutal pace, adding another finger when he felt you start to clench around him. Tightening his hand over your mouth and nose, he cut off your breath as you approached your peak, your eyes glazing over with pleasure. The high of the lack of oxygen along with the haze that came with this level of submission left you fully pliant, his to play with how he wanted.

Right as your lungs began to burn, your orgasm shook your body, and Spencer let go at that exact moment. The relief of oxygen once again flooding your lungs added on to the euphoria that overtook you, your body shaking as you came down from your high.

You didn’t have much time to recover, as you were brought back to reality with the sensation of the tip of Spencer’s cock teasing your slit. The overstimulation shook you, but with every second your need to feel him inside of you grew stronger. Your whimpers turned into pleas, and in your desperate state you didn’t realize what you were saying until it was too late.

“What was that?” Spencer asked, withdrawing completely.

“I-I’m sorry, it was an accident, I didn’t mean to, I’ll never-” you were interrupted by an unexpected demand.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say. It. Again.” Spencer gritted out, his eyes darkening with each word.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You said shakily.

A look of satisfaction came over Spencer’s face as he slammed into you without warning, setting a rough pace. You began to chant his new title, and his hand came up to choke you, fingers pressing into your carotid arteries just beneath your jaw. He wasn’t putting any pressure on your windpipe, but your lightheadedness from the reduced blood flow made it feel harder to breathe, the feeling of being owned by the man you loved only intensifying your pleasure.

Spencer towered over you as he continued his assault, his other hand coming up to muffle your moans by allowing you to suck on his fingers. When he withdrew them to pay attention to your body elsewhere, he was confused to see you stick out your tongue. When the wave of understanding washed over him, he couldn’t hold back his smile. Bringing his hand up to trace your cheek, he looked at you lovingly before spitting in your mouth, watching in awe as you eagerly swallowed and met him with an innocent smile that contrasted beautifully with your actions.

As you began to feel the knot in your stomach building again, Spencer increased his pace. Bringing one of his fingers to your clit, Spencer knew you were nearing the edge, and fast. “Come for me, pretty girl.” He ordered.

You obliged, Spencer’s kiss swallowing the moans spilling from your mouth. He followed soon after, sent into ecstasy by the image and sensation of you coming apart under him. As he filled you up, you felt a bliss that you’d never experienced before, using your lips to show him how he’d affected you as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. When you eventually parted, it was quiet for a moment.

As Spencer helped you off the sink and removed the belt from your wrists, massaging the tender skin, you began to laugh. It started out as a small giggle, but it soon turned into a full belly laugh, bringing tears to your eyes. Spencer was taken aback at first, but son couldn’t help but join you. You both laughed until your stomachs hurt, and when you could finally speak again your first words were “we just had sex in a church bathroom.”

Holding back another bout of laughter, Spencer responded, “I have to say, this wasn’t how I imagined tonight going.” He took a step towards you, arms lacing around your waist. “I’m not complaining, though.”

You pulled him down to meet him in a kiss, your teeth clacking as neither of you could hold back your smiles. When you broke apart, Spencer’s forehead stayed pressed against yours. “I love you,” he said quietly, “I have for a long time now. I just never thought you would feel the same way.”

You couldn’t hold back the happy tears that formed in the corners of your eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, your bodies coming together like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally been connected. You stayed there for a while, just feeling each other breathe.

In a few minutes, you’d sneak out the back door of the church. In a few minutes, you’d leave the room with no need for lies to excuse your shared affection. In a few minutes, you’d have to deal with the paperwork that Hotch would inevitably require. But for these last few minutes, all you had to do was hold each other. For now, you were just two people in love, and that was enough.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds

859 notes · View notes