#i'm hoping it really was just a case of them being assholes and not knowing when to take it down a notch

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

[ddejavvu]

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

[curly-fry-3]

Dean x Daughter!reader can you do this? Reader and Dean get caught in a hunt and it's a vampire or demon who wants revenge on Dean. They hurt the reader and Dean goes into protective dad mode.

𖦹Protection𖦹

summary𖦹 Dean goes crazy after hearing you got taken

pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Daughter!Reader

word count𖦹 1275

notes𖦹 I feel like I haven't written in forever omg I hope this is good

Dean was starting to get worried. Usually you'd be home from school by now but you're nowhere in sight. You'd been gone for an extra two hours and Dean was pacing around the tables in the library. Maybe you were just out having fun and forgot to tell him, or you're breaking rules and don't want him to know (either way you'd be in trouble) but Dean has a really bad feeling. His mind is constantly going; what if you're hurt, what if someone took you–or something.

Your location was turned off, he had already checked multiple times. Why was it off? You always kept it on, it's Dean’s number one rule. He didn't even have time to worry about you running around town disobeying him, he should be researching the demon case with Sam.

After a couple more minutes of pacing he decides to check your location again. He's shocked to find out that it's turned back on and you're a couple cities over…in a warehouse–The exact warehouse that Sam had tracked the demons to. Shit. The worst thing that could possibly happen, happened. He promised you that he would keep you safe, but you got taken while on your way home from school. 

Dean is already getting his shoes on, grabbing his gun, and knife when he gets a call from you. He quickly answers as he continues making his way out the bunker, “Y/N?”

Your shaky voice responds “Dad…I'm not hurt but I will be if you don't show up within the next two hours.”

He rushes out to the impala the second he hears your voice. He can tell you've been crying and that the call is being monitored by someone else, “sweetheart, i'm gonna be there. It's all gonna be ok. I won't let them touch you”

He can hear you take anxious deep breaths. “I'm scared, they grabbed me while I was walking–” Dean listened as the phone is taken from you and passed around the room

At this point, he is already speeding down the freeway with his phone tightly gripped up against his ear, waiting for any noise to come from the other line. He was gonna kill them. He was gonna kill them all. God, how could he let you get taken like this. He should be able to protect you, that's his job. You're scared and it's his fault. Everytime he thinks about how terrified your voice sounded, his foot presses harder on the gas.

After a couple minutes of silence, Dean hears a man's voice on the phone “you still there Dean? Oh, I can picture your face now. You look a little constipated when you get angry”

“You touch her and your dead” He seethes 

The demon laughs lightly, “We’ll just have to see about that, won't we? I have a feeling shes a screamer”

He presses harder on the gas and continues driving with a white knuckle grip on the wheel, “You won't be getting to test that theory”

The demon sighs out in annoyance, “Really dean? You wanna be the one giving orders when I have your daughter tied up? I thought you were smarter than that. Just remember, you only have an hour left” 

The line goes dead and Dean throws his phone across the bench seat in anger, breaking it. He just has to focus on getting there and saving you, he can wallow in his guilt when he knows you're ok.

After about another forty minutes of driving, Dean swerves into the dirt lot in front of the warehouse and storms in, stabbing every demon who interrupts his path. He has to find you and get you out, he doesn't need you to see him ripping that asshole demon limb from limb. 

He was in the middle of taking his knife out of the chest of a demon when he heard you whimpering and being told to shut up. He rushes in the direction of your voice and makes his way into a large open room with dirty concrete floors. He immediately notices you tied up with rope in a chair in the center of the room. There was one other demon with you, probably the man on the phone. 

You notice him immediately and yell out “Dad!”

The demon turns toward you and covers your mouth with duct tape. “Do you know how many times ive had to tell her to shut up? You winchesters are so annoying” He asks Dean

He grips his knife tighter “you said you wouldn't hurt her if I came, im here, so back off”

The demon ignores his request and stays firmly planted in his standing position next to the chair, “always so demanding, gets me hot”

Dean grits his teeth “did you kidnap my daughter just to flirt with me? What the hell do you want?”

The man huffs out in fake exhaustion, “Revenge, obviously?”

“I dont want to burst your bubble, but I have no clue who the fuck you are” He states firmly

The demon gasps dramatically “You wound me. Did our long, sexually charged, wrestle match back in boston mean nothing to you”

He rolls his eyes angrily “buddy I don't remember you”

“You will after this” the demon then pulls a knife from behind his back and brings it up to your neck, putting just enough pressure to barely break skin. “Now, i'm gonna gut her infront of you”

Dean watches as the knife presses harder against you while deciding what would be the safest way for you to get out of this. He watches your pained expression as you frantically try to breathe through the duct tape. He pulls his arm back and uses all his strength to throw the knife into the demon's chest. The man falls to the floor with a pained gasp before the light flickers and the demon is officially dead. 

As soon as the man drops to the ground, Dean races over to you. Kneeling on the ground, he carefully pulls the tape away from your mouth. You take a deep breath when your mouth is no longer obstructed. “Dad!”

“Sweetheart, you're ok, I'm here, they're all dead. You're safe” He comforts as he unties the rope around your wrists and ankles.

The second you’re free from the rope, you throw your arms around Dean and melt into his arms. He can feel you crying against his shoulder, wetting his shirt sleeve. He kisses your forehead, pulling you further into his embrace while rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I'm here, princess. We can go home now. You're not gonna leave my sight, ok?”

You take quick, shaky breaths, trying to calm your crying, and nod against his shoulder. “Yeah, I wanna go home”He tugs you closer to his chest, with his arm supporting under your knees, and picks you up bridal style. You clutch onto the lapels of his jacket as he walks you out to the car and puts you in the passenger seat. About halfway into the drive back, you're asleep against him with his arm wrapped around you, playing with your hair to help calm you down. For the next couple of weeks you wouldn't leave Dean's side; following him around the bunker, sitting in the passenger seat every time he drove, and sleeping with him every night. That night was probably the scariest moment of both your lives, and Dean knows he can never let it happen again. For the time being, he’ll homeschool you to make sure you're safe, but he hopes eventually he can give you the normal life you deserve.

sorry if there are any typos

@areswasneverhere @mfstargirlsworld @childofjove

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part one)

Steve Rogers x f!Reader

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve is about to walk out of your life, causing you to let go of everything you two have, and everything that could be.

📝 yes, the title is inspired by Taylor Swift's upcoming song The Bolter. In my interpretation and in this story, it is meant to symbolize someone who runs from someone or something. A potential relationship. A loved one. And the choice is not easy, one that may bring a lot of remorse or catharsis? Anyhow - Steve IS a bolter. In the beginning, at least.

themes/warnings : language, angst!!!, pining, unrequited love, Steve is kind of an asshole for leaving (but we love him anyway)

word count : < 1k

main masterlist ▪︎ series masterlist ▪︎ next chapter

This is it.

This must be what true heartbreak feels like.

Steve, your best friend and the unrequited love of your life, has decided to volunteer to return the Infinity Stones to their respective timelines. Very noble of him.

But he also confessed that he plans to stay with Peggy, now that he finally has the chance.

They can have the dance that was stolen from them, decades ago.

Steve can be with his true love it seems. And that person is just not you.

Well, fuck my life.

"Doll," he smiles ruefully, both of your hands encased in his, "say something."

Say something, he says. What is there to say - I'm in love with you, I want you to stay with me? Don't leave me? I want you stay - for Bucky, for Sam, for Nat. For everyone. For me?

What can you fucking say that will ever be enough? In the 7 years that you've known Steve, you've grown to love him. As a friend, as family. Then, almost inevitably, as the only keeper of your heart. And he knows this.

But he's still leaving. Because, at the end of the day, Peggy is the keeper of his heart.

To you, Steve has always been everything good. Golden boy perfection, with a heart that would put a saint's to shame. Sunshine, laughter, companionship, standing tall and unwavering in his ideals. His gleaming red, white, and blue tendrils snaking their way into the very fibres of your being and taking root.

But now, all you feel is empty. You were angry, when he first told you, days ago. You had almost screamed at him, told him how unfair he was being. You made a long, drawn-out case for Bucky. How he doesn't deserve this. But really, you were making a case for yourself.

Stay, you had said.

He simply smiled, without any mirth. Not like his usual on-brand Steve Rogers gesture of sincerity. He smiled and it did not reach his eyes. He was sad, or maybe he pitied you. And that made you even angrier.

Until minutes later, when you finally broke down, and sobbed quietly in his arms.

"I hate you," you muttered against the creases of his shirt.

"I love you," he said back, and you hated him even more for it. He doesn't get to say that to you, in that way. Not in the same way he would say to Peggy.

Now, right before stepping onto the platform that will cause him to vanish from your life, he says it again.

"You do know that I love you, right?" His smile is genuine, if not a little nervous. He hoped you would be as accepting as Bucky, and send him off with just a rueful look. A gentle, final word. A sweet farewell that he can take with him as a reminder of all the times you spent together.

"I know," you breathe, relenting. Steve does not like that your eyes are glazed over, empty. Like you're not taking him in at all. You take notice of the resulting sag in his shoulders, out of character from the dignified stride he sported as he was saying goodbye to the others.

A big part of you wants to remain indignant. So what if he's hurt or uncomfortable due to your coldness? It serves him right.

"Come here," he whispers, and it comes across a silent plea. Come here? Will you, please?

You take just one small step closer, but he is already ahead, wrapping his arms around your frame. Your stony mask breaks as your cheek presses against his chest, away from his view. His chest plate glistens from your tears, but you don't have it in you to wipe them away.

When he pulls away to look down at you, his heart breaks. He cradles your face in his hands as you look up at him through wet eyelashes, and it's almost enough to make him consider staying.

But then you say, "It will all be okay, Steve." You gingerly pry his hands from your cheeks, giving them a comforting squeeze. "We will be okay."

You look behind you, where Bucky stands watching the exchange, and he offers an encouraging nod.

You take a step back, mustering everything that you possibly can, all the love you have for Steve, to give him one last genuine smile.

"Go get your girl."

Read part two here.

The way I was making myself upset while writing this - god I love angst!!! ~~~

I was gonna keep going, make it even more brutal, but I'll save that for the upcoming parts. It will have some Bucky x reader as well 🖤

God Bless America('s ass).

oh, and let me know if you wish to be tagged!

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two

I'm bored so [smashes plate] ANOTHER! I've been writing this faster than I thought I would 🤭 Hope everyone is having lovely and relaxing holidays xx

Warnings: just angst and the case progressing! Hotch is kinda an asshole but it's just how they show their love to each other xoxo

“You and Hotch still got it, huh?” Morgan teases, leaning his head over to grin at you. Part of you missed car rides with Derek, and the other part of you remembers just how much of a little shit he can be.

“Shut up and look at the road,” you mutter, pushing his face away from you.

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Derek taps the wheel, shaking his head to get your hand off him. “What is it with you two, anyway?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “We’ve never gotten along, you know that. You were there when we met.”

“Uh, yeah, I remember being glad Hotch got all the heat instead of me,” Derek chuckles. “You’re intimidating when you’re pissed off.”

“Good,” you say, smirking. “That’s the point.”

“Alright,” Derek says, letting the topic go. For now. “We’ve got five minutes ‘til we reach her house. What are we telling her?”

“Well, I want to take a look around, if you’d like to talk.”

“I can stall,” Derek nods.

“Five bucks says there will be no pictures of the father in the house, at least not in the living area or hallway, where family photos most commonly are.”

“You sound like Reid,” Morgan quips.

“Our IQ’s are really close,” you remind him. “I just don’t have a damn eidetic memory. That shit is insane. I don’t envy him there.”

“Me either,” Derek shakes his head. “I remember things plenty without a magic memory.”

“I hear that.”

Derek turns into the driveway of Lila’s home. One car is in the driveway, a silver Ford. Her mom’s car.

“Ready?” Derek asks.

“Never,” you reply, opening your door. “But it’s our job.”

Derek knocks on the front door, but stands back so you’re the first face the mom will see. Given who her ex-husband is, you suspect she might be distrustful of all men, regardless of whether or not they’re here to help.

As expected, the mom eyes Morgan’s badge more closely than yours.

“May we come inside?” you ask.

“Yes,” she says, pulling the door open to let you both inside. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Morgan says politely.

After shutting the door, the mom begins talking — rambling incoherently, more like.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, dropping her off at school this morning. I knew something felt off when I woke up, it just— I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Ma’am,” Derek says. “Please, sit down.”

“I can’t,” she says, waving both of her hands like windshield wipers in front of her body. “I need to pace. Helps me think better.”

Derek looks at you, and you shrug. She’s obviously too wound up to sit down. Which is a good sign. If she was indifferent or resigned, there would be a bigger issue at hand. Clearly, she had no idea this would happen, so she definitely wasn’t in on it.

You take a look around the living room while Derek calms the mother down, mostly just letting her ramble, and take mental notes of what to ask her about later.

As you predicted, there are no photos with the father in the picture. All of them are the mother and Lila, mostly baby photos. Lila is a pre-teen, she clearly doesn’t want her photo taken. There is one where Lila looks older, but she’s not happy.

You take a closer look. She’s really unhappy.

“Mrs. Monroe?” You turn toward her, a sympathetic smile on your lips. “Has Lila been depressed lately?”

Her mom nods. “She’s been struggling ever since uhm— Ever since her father left. I’ve had her in therapy every week, but her therapist says she’s not really opening up. She might later, but right now she just doesn’t talk at all. She doesn’t want to.”

“I understand,” you murmur. “You’ve done the right thing by getting her help. Even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.”

“She still ran away!” Mrs. Monroe cries.

“Please,” you move toward her, resting your hand on her arm. “Let’s sit. Can Agent Morgan get you a glass of water?”

She nods, looking up at Morgan. “Thank you.”

Derek disappears into the kitchen.

“What makes you think Lila ran away? Other than her mood, were there any other signs?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “She’s talked about it before, told me she wanted to run away and that she hated me. I thought therapy would help with that, but it hasn’t.”

“Would her father help her at all? Run away, I mean.”

“Richard?” Mrs. Monroe asks. Derek reappears with a glass of water, handing it to her. “Thank you. No, he wouldn’t, he— She doesn’t even know what he’s done. I’ve never told her.”

“Would she be capable of finding out?” Derek asks. He takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” Mrs. Monroe shakes her head. “I monitor all of her Internet searches, who she texts, who she emails, everything. She thinks I drove him away. That I didn’t love him anymore and told him to get out. She doesn’t know that it was because I caught him burying a body.” She sobs into her hand, her words barely decipherable now. “And now she’s gone and she hates me and I don’t even know where she’d go— it’s like I don’t even know my own daughter.”

You take the glass from her hand and allow her to sob into your shoulder. You know what this is like. Because you were once Lila, a runaway who left her mother in pieces until she returned home. Your circumstances were different, but not by much at all.

“We will bring her home, I promise,” you say, despite yourself. Despite not knowing what the rest of this case will entail, what else you’ll uncover. “Did Lila have any friends that you didn’t approve of?”

Mrs. Monroe shakes her head again. “She doesn’t have many friends, but she talks to one girl, Marie, almost every day.”

“Where is Marie right now?”

“At school,” Mrs. Monroe says, sniffling. “I called her mom right away. My mind went to the worst case scenario, you know, I thought Lila would grab Marie and convince her to go with her—”

“Convince?” you question. 

Derek hears you and asks the next question you have on your mind. “Does Lila ‘convince’ Marie to do things she doesn’t want to do often?”

“Sometimes,” Mrs. Monroe admits, beginning to sob again. “Oh, God.”

You share a look with Derek, not liking where this is going, but you don’t know if you’ll get much else out of her right now.

“What things would Lila convince Marie to do?” you ask.

“Just small things, I don’t know,” Mrs. Monroe replies. She’s shutting down. “I don’t know why I said that, I—”

“Okay, okay, it’s okay,” you try to calm her down. “Do you mind if Agent Morgan and I take a look in Lila’s room?”

“How will that help?”

“We might be able to find something that could tell us where Lila might have gone,” Morgan explains. “Sometimes kids leave clues. We might be able to find them.”

Mrs. Monroe nods. “Okay. Can I— Is it alright if I lay down while you do that?”

“Of course,” you smile. “Come on, let’s get you to your room.”

You help her stand and walk back toward her bedroom, getting her inside. She lays down on top of the covers and shuts her eyes.

You close her door and meet Morgan back in the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Y/N’s back, you’re on speaker, Hotch.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily. Hotch couldn’t leave the two of you — mainly you — alone, could he? 

“Alright, I want the two of you to stay there and go through Lila’s room. Tell us anything you find. The school has given Garcia their security camera footage; she’s going through it now. It’s like she’s disappeared into thin air and that is not good.”

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” Morgan says.

Hotch is quiet.

“Mrs. Monroe doesn’t think Richard had anything to do with this. She says Lila doesn’t even know—”

“Morgan told me,” Hotch says. “Call me back when you have something new.” He hangs up and you roll your eyes again.

“I’m gonna keep a tally of how many times you do that,” Morgan teases.

“Be my guest,” you reply. “And keep me updated. I bet it’ll be in the hundreds by the time this case is over.”

Lila’s room is everything you’d expect from a regular pre-teen girl. And reminds you too much of your room when you were her age.

It’s almost like she’s too open. Posters are everywhere. Her favorite movies, actors, and bands. Her bed is made. Her closet is neat. The desk is covered in schoolbooks, yet also clean. 

“Morgan, I know this room.”

He turns around. “What?”

“We can know everything about her from one glance. She’s organized. She loves English, hates science, but is very good at math. She likes alternative music, not boybands,” you point to the posters. “Fantasy movies only. Her closet is too neat. It’s like she’s not even living here.”

“I’m not following.”

“I think she’s been planning her escape for a long time,” you say. “Which makes me think she had help.”

“Okay,” Morgan goes with it. “From who? You heard her mom, she watches everything Lila does.”

My mom did too, you think to yourself as you pull out your phone. You already have Garcia on speed dial, something she suggested for you.

“What can I do for you, my new angel?” 

Morgan chuckles while you answer Garcia. “Can you possibly see the search history after it’s been deleted?”

“Duh,” Garcia says. “Give me the IP address and I can show you all the dirty, dirty secrets on there.”

“Perfect, I’m going now,” you leave Lila’s room, peeking in Mrs. Monroe’s room to be sure she’s still resting. She is. 

You head to the living room where you saw Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Thankfully, after wiggling the mouse, it comes right up. No password or anything.

“Okay, she must really watch what Lila does,” you mumble. As in, Mrs. Monroe must stand over her daughter’s shoulder before even letting her turn the computer on. “How do I…?”

Garcia laughs and tells you what to click to pull up the information she needs. You recite it to her and she quickly works her magic.

“Oh, no.”

“Garcia,” you reply warily. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Morgan hears you and comes into the living room. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” you glance at him. “Garcia, what is it?”

“I’m going to need a minute to go through everything but…”

“Garcia, spit it out,” you put her on speaker, lowering the volume so only you and Morgan can hear her. “Garcia?”

“I don’t know for sure, but at first glance, this looks…it looks like she wanted to go with this person.”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Okay. We’ll call Hotch, you keep digging.”

“Aye, aye.”

You turn the computer off and pocket your phone. “We need to go back to the precinct. I don’t want to risk her overhearing.”

“Okay. Good call.”

“I’m gonna let her know we’re leaving,” you say. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

You wake Mrs. Monroe briefly to let her know you and Agent Morgan are leaving. You assure her that you’re going to bring Lila home, but that you’re needed at the precinct right now, and don’t want to disturb her rest. You hand her your card, telling her the number is the same, even though it doesn’t have BAU yet on it. 

Morgan is leaning against the car when you emerge outside, sick to your stomach.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Just hate lying to mothers.”

+++

You and Morgan decide to wait until you’re at the precinct to tell everyone what Garcia found. Better to break this news quietly in person than on the phone.

Hotch is speaking to a deputy when you walk in, but you flag him down with a nod, hoping he won’t take it personally. You’re too on edge right now to bother being irritated with him.

Once everyone is in the conference room, you shut the door.

“Garcia should be calling any minute,” you begin. “She’s going through Mrs. Monroe’s computer. Mrs. Monroe said she watches everything Lila does, but clearly not close enough, because Lila was on a popular chatting site talking with someone regularly.”

“Right she was,” Garcia joins in, having been listening on the nearby computer. Her smile is sad. “And it does not look good. I’m still digging, but a Rich34 was in constant contact with her. I’m talking every single night for hours. Mostly from 1am to 4am, while I’m assuming her mother was sleeping.”

“What do the chats say, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Nothing more than small talk right now, but I’m digging. It’ll take a while though, sir, I’m afraid they’ve been talking for months. Almost a year, I think.”

“Dammit,” you mutter. “I was afraid of that.”

Morgan sends you a sympathetic look.

“Garcia, see if you can track Rich’s identity in any way possible. It could be her father,” Hotch says.

“Or someone posing as her father,” you suggest, earning a glare from Hotch.

“Hey Garcia, send over all the chats, I can help you look through them,” Spencer offers.

“Alright kiddo, PG out.” The line clicks.

“Reid, look for anything relating to Richard Monroe’s history, or maybe Lila’s mother. Lila and her mother haven’t been getting along, and Rich might’ve used that to get Lila away,” Hotch instructs. 

Reid nods, already leaning over to grab the chat messages off the fax machine. Garcia knows him so well; she sent over hardcopies instead of electronic.

“Do we think it’s Richard Monroe in the chat room?” Emily asks.

“I’m not convinced,” Rossi says with a small shake of his head.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “The username is too obvious.”

“He could be taunting us by using an obvious screen name,” Hotch counters. “He’s evaded us for this long. Why would he bother hiding now?”

“Yes, but I don’t think Richard Monroe is behind this,” you argue. “Murder in cold blood is his thing. So why wouldn’t he just go grab her from the house? Why is he playing the long game like this? Why form this emotional connection if he’s just going to kill her?”

“Because he’s a murderer with no regard for anyone’s emotions other than his own,” Hotch fires back. “And because he likely holds a grudge against his ex-wife for divorcing him and taking Lila away.”

Now all eyes of the team are on the two of you, going back and forth like a tennis match.

“He murders women his own age. Lila is barely thirteen. If he wanted her so badly, he could have easily grabbed her by now and killed her. Why wait almost a year?”

“Her mother is watching her closely, and he—”

“Oh now you agree that her mother is overbearing.”

“Yes, because you met with her and confirmed it with actual evidence,” Hotch snaps. He pauses, staring at you. “We cannot rule out Richard Monroe.”

“We’ll be wasting our time if we don’t.”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

“You haven’t been doing this job long enough to have a trustworthy gut feeling,” Hotch says coldly. “Now, if you want to continue arguing, I suggest you do so with the wall. Otherwise, we have a young girl to find and her father is a priority suspect. Am I clear?”

“As river water,” you mutter. “Excuse me.” You push past your new boss, hating that he’s already gotten so deep under your skin. Again.

[loveafterdeath-if]

Ngl, I personally don’t get the El love at all? Usually with ROs you play through at least several chapters of content to get to know them better and then finally decide, yep, this one’s the one, this one’s interesting. But with El we spend too little time with for me to get attached to them at all, they’re just this vague concept with barely any personality? Half of their screen time being an optional intimate scene also doesn’t help flesh them out, (because of how generic nsfw scenes are at their core, they are only ever gratifying when you know the character really well) the first time I reached it my reaction was “ok, but why would I want my mc to get intimate with this rando, I as a player have literally *just* met them”.

BTW, I can’t be the first one to say all of the above, right? Because I keep seeing anons bashing the actual ROs for this barely defined character and I go: “really??” (Btw, I know El would have been amazing had they equal amounts of content as other ROs)

You're the first one, actually, but I'm sure many might think like you! I get what you mean haha, even if 'with barely any personality' is harsh😭 Though, I do hope that you'll enjoy the ROs routes if you choose any!

I think it's fair for people to like or dislike any characters in LAD no matter how much screentime they got or not. It's about flavour, like, you don't like caramel so you take vanilla, but this other dude take chocolate because they can't stand caramel and vanilla. And there's those who like all flavours even if they tasted them just once for a few seconds. You know what I mean?

And about people bashing actual ROs... where? I don't remember people bashing ROs. Or maybe you're talking about L? I think L is a hit or miss person, tbh. They're a sweetheart for me, but I'm pretty biased, so.... And they're pretty nosy and persistent when they want to, so I understand it can rub people the wrong way.

Or was it when this anon said all ROs were assholes? It didn't feel like bashing, imo. Mmmh, maybe you're talking about something else? Or maybe I'm delusional, if that's the case then let me be delusional pls🤣

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[thesirencove]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ NEAL CAFFREY X FEM!READER & SPENCER REID X EX!READER -- THE FLIP SIDE OF ILLICIT AFFAIRS

hi y'all ! my apologies for the wait on this one . this semester came in and really pulled the rug out from under me . my classes were much harder than expected (damn you gen chem 2 & microecon) and i got hit with a wave of writer's block on top of it :') BUT i'm getting my degree so yay to that !! apologies if any of the characters seem out of character (especially spencer lol) , i kinda let my creative liberty go wild with this one .

to anon , i am so sorry for the long wait on this one . i hope that the longer word count and care i put into this fic to make it perfect will make up for it 💓

my requests at this moment are closed as i get to other requests and finish up finals . i'll make an announcement when they're open again , which will hopefully be soon as i'm starting to see the light at the end of the cave again :) i hope you've all been doing well , and enjoy !

neal caffrey x fem!reader (romantic) ; spencer reid x ex!reader

summary: when someone from the past enters her life again , neal is the rock she needs as she relives the time when everything came crashing down years ago . based on this request !

warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of a rocky relationship, mentions of cheating, probably ooc spencer reid!!!!!, asshole spencer, mentions of serial killers & murder (and in general what the bau does), death (off-page), hotch is like a dad to y/n, maybe ooc hotch??, as minimal as possible use of y/n in the fic, probably also ooc aaron hotcher, lowkey no closure?? reader is honestly vibing but reid is not lol, spencer is a dick

word count: 10.8k

winters in new york were always brutal. snow was piled across the streets. snowflakes floated down, sticking to her cheeks and eyelashes. her lips were blue and cracked from how cold and drying the weather was. the roads were so icy it was a miracle if she hadn’t fallen on her ass at least once on her way to the office. 

there was a lingering sense of coldness that stayed with her, even once safely inside the FBI building. the heat radiating from the HVAC system wasn’t fast or warm enough to make anyone feel like they’d completely escaped the freezing weather outdoors. slipping into the elevator, she pressed the button for the 19th floor, bouncing on the balls of her feet, hoping the movement would help get some feeling back into her toes. the elevator came to a stop, followed by a ding as the doors creaked open. she walked out, turning towards the glass doors that separated the white collar office from the elevators. she smiled through them at her friend, diana, who was sitting on the further end of the room. pushing the doors open, she walked towards her desk as she took the long, insulated puffer jacket off her shoulders, keeping her fleece trench coat on for the time being. 

looking up towards peter’s office, she noticed neal standing there, talking to peter. there was a case file in peter’s hand, and though neal had his back turned towards her, his shoulders slightly tense. he was good at hiding his tells, but after knowing him for the past three years and dating him for two, she picked up on little things like that. her eyebrows furrowed, wondering what was happening in that office. 

it wasn’t long before neal exited the office, his shoulders rigid. peter sighed, calling diana over. neal stalked towards y/n, a smile adorning his face despite the clear frustration he held within him.

“hey, love, everything okay?” she asked, her left hand moving to grab onto his arm and rub it soothingly. 

“yeah, come get coffee with me at the cart?” he looked at the elevators, eyeing them in a way that made her wonder on what he was waiting to hop out of those doors. 

usually, she’d complain about not wanting to go outside again after having just gotten out of the cold. her toes were finally regaining feeling, too. but something in her stirred to go with neal, to figure out what was running through his head. she knew it had to do something with the case file peter had in his hand. 

so instead of whining about the cold, she simply pulled her long puffed jacket off the back of her chair and reaching to intertwine her hand with neal’s. 

it didn’t take long before they made it to the coffee cart, and she was still freezing, but the warmth radiating from neal’s body helped. they got their coffees and began to slowly walk back to the office. she noticed neal wasn’t in as much of a rush to get back as he was to initially leave the building. 

“is everything okay, neal?” she asked, turning her head to look at him. 

they both stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. she was faced towards him, and neal still stood ready to walk back towards the office. he sighed, looking at the ground for a second before picking his head back up and facing her. 

“the most recent case peter got involves a murder,” he started.

“okay? neal, you know i’m used to that. i used to work at-”

“the BAU office in quantico, i know. that’s the thing.” 

it clicked the second he said “that’s the thing.” she eyed him in confusion, still not fully sure if he was alluding to what she assumed. 

“are you trying to tell me that my old team is going to be here to work on the case with us?” she asked, not wanting to tip-toe around the subject any further. neal nodded, eyeing her with a look that said, “i’m sorry,” and, “i tried to convince peter otherwise.” 

it had been three years since she left the BAU, leaving behind her life in quantico to start a job in a new field here in new york. going from solving cases about serial killers to hunting down white collar criminals was a switch, but it was one she needed. she’d adjusted to her new job quite easily, quickly becoming part of the white collar family. she lost one family, but gained another, and she wouldn’t change things. maybe once she would have, at the very start. now, there’s no chance in hell she’d give up neal. 

“it’s okay,” she said, finally, after what felt like eons of silence, “i was bound to see them again someday anyways, no?” 

she smiled up at neal, rising to her tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips. her nose hit his in the process, which was freezing cold, making her shiver. 

“c’mon,” she started, “let’s get going back to the office. we need to get briefed on the new case.” 

she slipped her hand in his, coffee warm in her other hand, and once again began walking back towards the office. she began telling him about a funny conversation she’d overheard in a coffee shop the other day. neal listened intently, commenting every so often. but in his head, he was thinking about her reaction to her old team coming to work on the case with them. he was surprised at how cool she was about this, but he also knew she’d been healed for a while. she was secure, safe in her relationship with neal. happy with him. they both were. 

she had been a wreck when she first moved to new york. cases with the bau were mentally taxing, but she always had an escape in her team. they were her closest friends and family at the time. and once, long ago, spencer was who she perceived as the love of her life. she’d fallen for the hair, the smile, the eyes that sparkled every time he spewed random facts that no one would know, except for him. she’d fallen for everything about him. at one point, before everything fell apart, she even thought he’d be her husband. 

· · three years ago · ·

her keys jangled in her hand as she fumbled with the lock, trying to get the door to the apartment open. she had stayed overnight at the bau office, working on reports to get to hotch. she wanted to have them all done, so wouldn’t have to do them later on top of the next pile of reports sent her way. the hallway was dim, the overhead lights slowly dying. some were flickering. others were already out. 

she finally got the door open, sighing with relief when she felt the handle twist. the cool air from inside hit her face, and she could smell one of her mahogany candles burning. she smiled, closing the door behind her and hanging her jacket on the hooks near the door. 

“spencer!” she called out, not seeing him in the kitchen or living room. 

she faintly heard the words, “i have to go, she’s home,” coming from her and spencer’s shared bedroom. she wondered who he could possibly be on the phone with this late. he came out from the room, a small smile on his face. she held her arms out, and he enveloped her in a hug. she wasn’t sure if it was her mind running rampant with the one sentence she’d heard him say, or if something was truly different, but the hug didn’t feel as tight or warm as usual. 

“who was that on the phone with you?” she asked, pulling away from the hug and looking up at him. something shifted slightly in his face. panic, guilt. it wasn’t a shift she wanted to see.

“oh, that was just morgan. got back from a date and wanted to tell me about it,” he answered, voice flat. 

she smiled at him, slipping out of his arms and towards their bedroom. she was tired, and he was lying. she had said goodbye to morgan on her way out of the office. it couldn’t have been him on the phone, it was virtually impossible that he’d gone on a date and called spencer to tell him about it within the thirty minutes it took her to get home. she could tear him a new one right now. tell him to stop lying, to tell her who it really was. instead, she kept herself calm, slowly getting ready for bed. brushing her hair, braiding it, then brushing her teeth. she started her skincare routine now. 

“i assume he had a good date? they usually go well,” she laughed at the last sentence. it took every ounce of strength she had to cover the bitterness in her voice. 

“yeah,” spencer responded, “i think he really likes her. he was even talking about taking her on another date.”

she didn’t respond, merely nodding as she put her pajamas on, a matching set. they were adorned with various teddy bears, some with pink bows and others in blue t-shirts. walking out of the bathroom and back into their bedroom, she pulled the covers off her side of the bed and hid herself into the warmth of the blankets. spencer walked behind her, moving to his side and doing the same. 

“night, spence,” she whispered, turning the lamp light off and curling into herself. 

“goodnight,” he muttered back. there was no, “my love,” or “sweetheart.” there was simply “goodnight” and that was it. 

she feigned sleep as her thoughts ran wild in her head. she hated the fact spencer was lying to her. she hated that she was too tired to do anything about it, wanting to push it away as nothing. wanting to protect herself with the lies she convinced herself were real – he wasn’t doing anything, he was talking to her mother, or a friend, he was planning a surprise and didn’t want to spoil it. over and over in her head, she came up with every possibility she could pretend was real.

she thought back to what the past few months have been like. the bau has been swamped with cases, a new one coming in back to back with the others. it had been nonstop flying and solving serial killings. the lack of affection between her and spencer recently hadn’t posed any red flags until now. she just assumed they were both tired, overworked. 

three hours after she first climbed into bed, she knew spencer was asleep. slowly pushing herself up, she got out of bed, tip toeing to spencer’s side of the bed. she felt like shit doing this, never wanting to become this kind of girlfriend. the one who has a hunch her boyfriend is cheating and goes through his phone. still, she needed to know. she couldn’t let herself stay if he was going to leave. she picked his phone up, looking through the call logs. her eyebrows furrowed as she saw there was nothing recent. she put his phone back down, checking to make sure he was still asleep. he had barely moved, his breathing shallow as he slept. 

instead of getting back in bed, she pulled the drawers open, shuffling through them quietly. looking for a burner phone, for any sign of his infidelity. she decided to slip her hand beneath the cabinet, knowing there was no harm in at least looking. it was then that she felt a small, hard block carefully placed on a wooden ledge that jutted towards the center of the cabinet. she pulled it out, turning the phone on. a slew of messages appeared on the screen.

i miss you

i had fun talking to you last night

i want to meet up soon

what about your girlfriend?

she doesn’t matter to me. you do.

i love you.

each and every word on the screen blended together, tears forming in her eyes. she could barely read the messages as her vision blurred. she checked the call logs, and her heart plummeted when she saw just how often spencer had been talking with this girl. maeve, according to the contact name and the few times spencer mentioned her name in conversation. she scrolled and scrolled and scrolled, trying to figure out just how long this had been going on for. the first call had been six months ago. 

she nearly threw up. bile burned the back of her throat as she held a hand over her mouth, trying not to make any noise. she stood up, her knees wobbling slightly, and tip toed to her side of the bed again. she took the burner phone with her, picking up her own phone and snapping as many pictures as she could of the messages, the calls, everything. the thoughts that ran through her head as she did it were so loud that she could feel her head start to hurt. she put the burner phone back in its place, taking her phone with her to the bathroom. she locked the door behind her. 

the moment the lock clicked, her legs gave out. she slid to the floor, her back pressing against the vanity sink. opposite her was the bathroom closet, the doors made of mahogany. she traced the patterning on the wood with her eyes. everything she’d just read was too much, she couldn’t properly process it. she felt weird for not being able to shed any more tears than she did when she first found the messages.

spencer was cheating on her. how could he cheat on her? what happened to the sweet boy she once knew? the one who would bring her a pain au chocolat in the mornings, knowing she often skipped out on breakfast. the one who would leave flowers on her desk. the one who would stick cute messages adorned with a smiley face and heart on the mirror in the mornings for her to see. she wasn’t sure what happened along the way to change things this drastically, to distance him from her to the point he resorted to… this. to illicit affairs. 

what the hell is she supposed to do now? pack a bag of things, and leave? penelope would take her in. emily or jj would, too. hell, any of the members of her team would take her in right now. they weren’t just coworkers, they were her family. she recalled the time she first joined the team. from the jump, hotch treated her like a daughter. it was a tough job, and it’s not like he babied her. and yet, the fondness he had for her was unlike any other. the dad who raised her might’ve been hundreds of miles away, but she still had a dad in quantico.

she couldn’t bear to work with spencer anymore, she knew that for sure. but she also knew spencer was a pinnacle asset to the team. she was, too, sure, but he was the one with the eidetic memory. there was no fair comparison, in her mind. she would have to be the one to leave. 

she put her hands on the floor, the soft bristles of the plush, white rug on the floor digging into her hands, shivering as she felt part of her palm slip onto the tile. she took a second, closing her eyes, breathing, before pushing herself up to standing. pushing her ear to the door, listening for any movement outside, she tried to figure out if spencer had woken up. she was met with soft snores, and knew he was still asleep. 

she opened the bathroom closet door as quietly as she could, pulling out her go-bag and a second bag to put some of her stuff in. anything she couldn’t fit she would just pick up later. or maybe she’d just ask one of the team members to get it for her later. 

her heart was pounding, nearly tearing through her chest, as she tiptoed around their shared bedroom, carefully taking her favorite clothing pieces and the essentials, then making her way back to the bathroom and quietly packing everything in there. it was truly a miracle that spencer hadn’t stirred the whole time, sleeping like it’d been ages since he last slept a full night. 

yeah, no shit, he’s been fucking around with another woman for months, she thought to herself. 

once everything was packed, she carefully slipped out of the bathroom, picking up her phone and keys. she was out of the bedroom and entered the main room. it was an open floor plan, with the kitchen opening up into their little living room. her shoes were by the door, and her coat was still resting on the hook she placed it on. she took a glance at the sight in front of her. it was dark, and she could barely see anything, but the moonlight shone into the room enough for her to take it all in. the couch they sat on night after night, watching their favorite show. the countertop in the kitchen they’d have breakfast in. the little trinkets she’d set up in every corner she could. 

all of it, all of the love she poured into everything, for what? 

and with that last glance, feeling her heart break as a lump formed in her throat, she gripped her bags tighter, and walked to the door. she put her shoes on quickly, pressing one hand against the wall as she bent to the side and used the other to get the shoe over her heel. her go bag was slung over her right shoulder, second bag in the left hand as she twisted the door handle. it creaked, causing her to wince at the sound. still, she left as quickly as possible, running down the hallway of their apartment building as quickly as possible, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. 

her teddy bear pajamas clung to her body as she ran, thinking about how stupid she probably looked. each flight of stairs she took went faster and faster, whipping past her eyeline and making her slightly dizzy. though, the dizziness was likely also a side-effect of all the feelings spinning in her head. 

once she reached the ground floor, concrete hard on her feet through the shoes as she jumped the last three steps, she pulled her keys out of the side of her go bag, immediately unlocking her car as she ran to it. the lights flashed red and yellow, and for a split second she worried she’d break the door with how hard she pulled it open. the bags were thrown on her passenger seat as she slid into the seat. closing the door, she clicked the lock button, car beeping, and brought the engine to life. 

in mere minutes, her relationship with spencer had fallen apart. she packed her bags and ran from him. ran from everything. she couldn’t bear to be in that room, to sleep next to him for one more night. she simply needed out.

pulling onto the road, she didn’t know what to do. should she just leave? never look back, find somewhere else to go and make a life for herself there? does she go to garcia’s and spend the night there? what would happen tomorrow, when she went to work and spencer asked her where half her things went? when he asked why she left in the middle of the night?

she found herself sitting in her car, outside of hotch’s apartment. she wasn’t sure why, or how she really got here. she just drove and drove, and suddenly came to a stop here. the rough plan at the moment was to knock on his door, tell him she’s resigning, and figure out a department to transfer to. somewhere far away, preferably. she turned her keys in the ignition, turning the car off and making her way to hotch’s door. she wasn’t sure what she’d say, or if it was stupid for her to be here, but this is where she ended up. outside her work-dad’s door. he’d know what to do, right? 

for fuck’s sake, you’re an FBI agent and you can’t even figure out what to do about your boyfriend cheating on you, she thought to herself, raising her hand to knock on his door. after a few seconds, she heard the flick of a light switch and saw light flood in beneath the door. the quiet thudding of feet against floorboards could be heard, and in seconds the door was open. hotch stood before her in plaid blue pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. 

she opened her mouth to say something, but instead she lost any ability to speak. her face crumpled, and she began sobbing, falling into hotch. his face contorted into worry as he caught her, holding her up. 

“i’m sorry,” she whispered between sobs. 

hotch shushed her, rubbing his hand against her shoulder. he pulled her into the apartment, locking the door behind them, and set her on the couch. she wiped the tears beneath her eyes, sniffling hard as she felt snot start to come out of her nose. a box of tissues was placed on the table in front of her, and she immediately took hold of them. hotch waited until she had calmed down enough to speak before saying anything.

“what happened?” he asked, his usually stoic demeanor shattered at the state of her. 

“he cheated on me. he’s been cheating on me, for months now.” she wasn’t sure what to say, but she told him everything. what she heard him saying on the phone, the lie he told about morgan that made her suspicious, the burner phone she found underneath the bedside table. she even went as far as pulling her own phone, handing it to hotch open to all the pictures of the messages she found. she watched as hotch’s expression became angrier and angrier. 

“in all my years in the bau, and knowing spencer, this is one thing i did not see coming,” he said, his voice harsh when he uttered spencer’s name. she laughed bitterly in response.

“you think you’re shocked, imagine being his girlfriend.”

they were quiet for a few seconds, both gathering their thoughts.

“what do you want to do?” hotch asked her.

“i don’t know. all i know is i can’t work with him anymore.”

“okay. it won’t be difficult to get another department to take him, but–”

“no, hotch. i have to be the one to leave. i can’t stay in the bau, stay in this city, knowing i could run into him at any moment. i can’t stay here, knowing that each time i sit at my desk, i’ll remember him sitting across from me. i can’t walk past the coffee shop i go to every morning knowing that my memories of him are there. i just can’t,” she told him, her voice pleading. 

hotch nodded. he understood her. he’d want her to stay. hell, in an ideal situation none of this would be happening. but it is happening, and he knows that if it were him in her place, he’d want out, too. he stayed silent, thinking where he could transfer her to. he knew she’d want to go far away, but selfishly he wanted it to be somewhere close enough that he could still come visit the girl that became like his daughter. 

he knew exactly where to send her. it’d be entirely different from the work the bau did, but it’d still be good. hell, he could even say it’d be fun, in a way. and there was a good challenge for her there, a criminal consultant that would keep her head running at all times. it was the kind of job that was perfect for her. plus, he knew peter burke pretty well, and he knew that she’d be safe with him there. peter knew that she was like hotch’s daughter, and peter himself was the kind of guy to treat his fellow agents like family. yeah, the white collar unit would be perfect. 

“there’s a job available. it’s in new york,” he held his finger up when she opened her mouth to protest the location, “i know you want somewhere further away, but i think you’ll fall in love with it. trust me. the white collar department is looking for a new agent. they have a criminal consultant, which could be an interesting addition for you,” hotch continued speaking, and she listened, but let her mind drift ever so slightly.

she liked the prospect of going to new york. the white collar department was drastically different from the bau, and she actually quite liked that. it wouldn’t be as horrific as looking at dead bodies daily, and maybe even slightly less dangerous than getting kidnapped by a serial killer who had a liking for women who looked like her. 

“i’ll take it,” she said in the middle of one of hotch’s sentences. he smiled lightly, nodding at her. 

they spent the rest of the night talking, figuring out the transfer. he, of course, had papers on hand for her to sign and sent a message to special agent peter burke about the transfer. at 7:03am on the dot, they got a response from peter. 

great! can’t wait to meet her. the earlier she can start, the better, but the latest would be monday the fifteenth.

that was 10 days away. she decided she’d leave earlier. hotch promised he’d have her stuff sent to her new apartment there, once she got one. he sent another message to peter, asking for apartment rental information and letting him know that she’d be there earlier. 

hotch and peter texted back and forth for a while, and she got impatient, trying to glance at the screen. she was able to see a few messages, where hotch mentioned the reason for her transfer. in another message, peter said that he and his wife would be happy to take her in for a few days as she hunts for apartments. she was wary about it, not wanting to intrude or become an inconvenience. still, it was better than paying for a hotel room until she found an apartment. i’ll find a place to live within the first week there, that way i’m not being too much of a burden for too long, she told herself.

this was it. in one night, her entire life had fallen apart. she left her boyfriend. she quit her job, and found a new one. she was leaving her closest family, and going somewhere completely different. hotch took her into a hug, savoring the last few moments they’d have together. sure, he’d visit, maybe, but this was goodbye for the time being. he made her promise to text and call, and to keep him updated on everything in new york. she swore to it. 

leaving hotch’s apartment, she was a new woman. she turned on her phone, sending spencer a quick message before blocking him. i know about maeve. we’re over. don’t try contacting me ever again. hotch will get my stuff for me in the next few days. fuck you. 

just a few hours ago, she was terrified about what would happen next. now, she sat in her car, ready to drive to new york. she was excited. the heartbreak wouldn’t leave her, not for a while. she’d cry and wish things were different and wonder to herself what went wrong. she’d think about what was wrong with her that made spencer want to cheat on her. she’d wish she’d have stayed for one more day, just so she could’ve smacked spencer square in the face. but now there was a needle and thread in the form of the white collar unit in new york, and it was ready to stitch together the broken pieces of her heart. 

· · present time · ·

“love? hello? where did you go?” neal said, waving his hand in front of her face. they were stood outside the white collar building now. 

“sorry, sorry. i was thinking,” she said, frowning slightly. 

she felt stupid for having been quiet for so long. neal only smiled, giving her a quick kiss. 

“hey, it’s okay. you don’t have to say sorry,” he said.

he squeezed her hand, a silent message that he’d be here the whole time. that she didn’t have to worry about anything, that he’d understand. he was good to her in that way. he was good to her in many ways, but something that especially stood out was how patient he was with her. since the start of their relationship, he’d been incredibly patient with her. not only considering the job she once had, as a bau agent, but how things ended there. he never wanted to treat her the same way. he never would treat her the same way. she didn’t know, but he silently promised to himself that he’d change her outlook on love entirely. that he’d help her be unafraid to not just be in love but to fall into it, and keep falling. he kept that promise, fulfilling it every single day. 

the two of them walked inside the building, making their way up the elevator, back to the office. on the ride up, they talked about their dinner plans tonight. they were planning on having a little gathering, the two of them with mozzie, peter, and elizabeth. she laughed about their previous mini dinner party, which ended with mozzie getting so drunk he started reciting a random shakespeare play. hand in hand, they pushed the door open to the office, her in the middle of laughing about the memory. neal smiled at her so brightly that his cheeks hurt. anyone looking at them could tell that he was infatuated with her. he wasn’t just in love with her. he was completely consumed by her existence. 

that killed spencer. he was standing at the top of the stairs, near peter’s office, arms crossed as he stared at his former love. her laugh was one that no one could forget, causing him to turn immediately when he heard it flutter into the conference slash makeshift interrogation room. he immediately clocked neal’s hand intertwined with hers, and the pain in his chest was palpable at the sight. it pissed him off, quite frankly. morgan appeared behind him, tapping him and then motioning to get back in the room. when spencer didn’t move, morgan spoke.

“you were the one who fucked up, man. you cheated on her, not the other way around. now get back in the room and do your damn job,” he said, his voice short, full of distaste. 

the events of three years ago were a sensitive spot for the bau. spencer was the one who made her leave so abruptly, without so much as a goodbye – other than a few texts and calls after she’d settled into new york – and it made everyone angry. she was family to the bau, and losing her was difficult. it was even more frustrating knowing that spencer was the cause of it. all because he was a dumbfuck who couldn’t keep it in his pants. he may have a high iq, but he was a fucking dumbass in the eyes of love. there was a huge bandaid over the situations, and tensions had almost fully resolved over the years, but being here – seeing her again – had made things hard for everyone again. it was all a reminder of just how badly spencer had screwed up. 

spencer finally moved, walking back into the room. peter kept shooting daggers at him, and diana looked like she was ready to murder him right then and there. and then cover it up. she looked like the type of woman who would get away with murdering him, even if she had an audience. he took a deep breath, bending over the table to look over the case files. they were talking about the murder, it was the third of a string of them that had been happening in art galleries around the city. each time, an artist that had their art on display had been killed, their body left on the floor next to a wall where their art once hung. in place of the piece of art they’d created was a message, different each time. 

as they looked over the cases, there was a shift in the room, and spencer immediately knew why. he turned, looking at the woman he once loved. she held a coffee cup in her hand, the spout stained with lipstick. neal caffrey stood behind her, his arm ghosting around her back, hand resting on her waist. his eyes narrowed ever so slightly at spencer before quickly returning to an unbothered expression. 

neal quickly flashed a smile, so charming it made spencer feel sick. 

“neal caffrey, it’s lovely to meet you all,” he said, looking around the room.

“hi, guys,” she said, still attached to neal’s side. 

she didn’t want to tear away from him. it felt safer, being near him. her heart still beat rapidly, but the warmth that neal’s body radiated helped calm her. it quelled her nerves enough that she was able to say her small “hi” without her voice quivering. his hand was still attached to her waist, gripping it tight, but not to the point that he was hurting her. just enough to make it clear that she was his and he was hers, and that no one – especially spencer – should dare make a false move towards her. 

penelope was the first to break, a smile adorning her face as she ran from her computer to envelop her old friend in a hug. neal expertly took the coffee she held out of her hand, so that it wouldn’t drop or spill as she returned the hug. 

“i missed you so much!” they both squealed at the same time, causing them to break out into laughs. they smiled, gripping each others’ arms and jumping around in a circle. it’d been years since she and garcia had seen one another in person, and it was a moment that was long overdue, no matter if it was technically considered unprofessional. 

hotch was next to give her a hug, followed by emily and jj and morgan. spencer was the only one who stood still, as though his shoes were superglued to the ground. his eyes flicked back and forth from neal to the girl he’d hurt so long ago. 

after the slew of hugs she received, she looked towards spencer, only giving him a small smile, before returning to neal’s side. she took her coffee from him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, before getting onto the case. spencer thought of the smile she gave him, and like every other thing about her, it haunted him. there was no emotion in the smile towards him. it was a simple gesture, acknowledging his existence but nothing more. 

she brushed him off so quickly, immediately getting to work, that it gave him whiplash. he looked at neal, who was looking at him with a glint in his eyes that was clearly distaste. just a second later, neal was called over by y/n, asking him about one of the art exhibits where blood of a victim had been found. the way neal effortlessly spoke about the era and art annoyed spencer. he was the one who knew everything. what could a criminal out on a consulting deal really know? especially compared to a guy with an iq of 187. 

neal’s arm brushed against hers, making her look at him, smiling. this smile was different – full, bright, happy. it was unlike the one she gave spencer, and that killed him. he had done the damage, and here he was, years later, reaping the consequences of his actions. 

his feet finally moved, unsticking from the position he was previously in. he stood near morgan, listening to hotch provide further details that peter’s team didn’t have. hotch gave a rough profile they’d created on the flight to new york, noting it wasn’t official – but could give a good baseline for what they needed to look into. 

“morgan, spencer, i need you two to go down to the morgue. go over the details of the murders with the coroner, and report back to me. jj, coordinate with law enforcement and the media. no details about this case are to be released as of now. garcia, i need you to stay here and dig up information about the victims we don’t currently have. i want to know about any paths that could have crossed, especially in their careers. emily and rossi, we’ll head down to the most recent crime scene,” hotch said, voice firm. 

each bau member scattered, now that their assignments. spencer lingered ever so slightly, watching y/n nodding along as peter coordinated his team. morgan elbowed him, harder than he used to years ago. it was a subtle shift after everything that happened, but a shift nonetheless. still, he never complained, knowing it could have been worse for him. he’s lucky to still have some form of a relationship intact with his team members. 

· · 3 hours later · ·

in the three hours since assignments had been given, spencer and morgan found out that the killer had left behind extra clues in the form of rolled up pieces of paper left on the victims’ bodies. not only that, the team had identified a solid suspect and another body had been dropped. 

the victim fit all the others, and this time the message left behind was just one word: “betrayal,” painted in blood. and yet again, there was blood left in an exhibit with art from an older era.

they all stood around the table in the conference room – except for penelope, who was working on a loose lead hotch thought up in peter’s office – looking towards a clear whiteboard, detailing each piece of the case they’d put together in an attempt to solve it. 

“the pattern is accelerating,” y/n said, moving towards the board, “look. we have four bodies now. the first was found ten weeks ago. the second four weeks ago. the third just a week ago, and now the fourth. something made him want to go faster, but what?” 

they knew the unsub had likely been triggered by something, leading to the sudden shift in the timeline. they spit balled ideas, reasons for the acceleration. neal provided insight on each of the exhibits where blood was spontaneously left. the first time it happened, the police thought it was an accident. now, with four victims, they knew it was part of his MO. 

“did penelope find any connection between the victims?” neal asked, looking intently at the board.

solving a murder was new for him. he was used to asking mozzie to check who fenced a piece. he was used to finding out who stole and sold a priceless piece of art that part of him wished he had. he was used to pushing down his habit of planning how he would steal a piece of art or a statue that was worth millions. still, the puzzle pieces in his brain were shifting, and he was happy to have the challenge. he noticed a pattern within them, he just needed to be sure. 

“they’re all art majors, though each specialized in a completely different style and era of art. one thing that stood out was that they all went to the same university at one point, all taking the most of the same slew of classes that were required for art majors,” emily summarized, remembering what garcia told her she found. 

“can you tell me what era each victim specialized in?” neal said, moving towards the table to rearrange some extra pictures that hadn’t fit on the board. the crime scenes, with the pictures of each message left behind, and the exhibit where blood had been left behind. he just had a hunch…

“uh, yeah, hold on,” emily said, finding the file that held each victim’s university transcript. once she had it, she spoke again.

“carl jenkins – victim one – focused on the baroque era. violet emerson – victim two – had a background in romanticism. dawn hollis – victim three – was an expert on the renaissance, and vincent dryden – our most recent victim – focused on neoclassism.”

“ok, wait – yes. hold on… yeah, i think i’ve got something. look at the art of each of the victims. it’s completely different from what they studied when they were in school. jenkins’ did abstract, emerson had clear fauvist inspiration, hollis did pop art, and dryden’s art was influenced by the romantic era. and look,” neal explained, almost frantic. 

he pulled out photos of the messages left behind at each crime scene. 

“each note the killer left behind has something to do with betrayal. the most recent, of course, being the literal word itself,” he said. 

“you’re right,” y/n muttered, moving closer to him and inspecting the pattern he layed out between the photos.

“what if it’s about them deviating from the art they studied?” emily pointed out, before continuing, “maybe the killer stayed within the style he studied, but never got as far as the victims did, with exhibits in galleries. now he’s getting revenge for the success he never got. can garcia cross-reference the victims with anyone who crossed paths with all of them? other students, teachers, people who tried to get their art into the same galleries.”

“yeah, hold on,” y/n said, running into peter’s office to get the theory to her. 

within seconds, penelope found a name, a professor that every victim had for a renaissance art history class. there were countless records of applications he’d made to galleries throughout the city, each and every one of them refusing him. there was a notes section on each, explaining the refusal. some left nothing, others claimed his style was simply not what they were looking for. it was too outdated, and they’d rather have pieces from the true renaissance than from an artist of this decade. 

“his name is connor hayes, let me get you his address,” garcia blurted, writing the information she found down as quickly as possible before also sending the gps location to hotch.

the flurry of activity in the office surged the moment his name and address were found. garcia also ended up sending the location of his office at the university he worked at to the team, as a secondary location to check. some agents were on the phone with police and swat, others running to the elevators and even stairs to get down as quickly as possible. sirens and blue and red lights filled the streets as they sped to find the man who had already killed so many budding artists. 

the team found him at his home, with the names and pictures of various other students he was planning on killing. he had an entire board on his wall, connected by red string and pins. the words “TRAITOR” and “BETRAYAL” were splayed over the pictures in red ink. the victims who had been killed had their faces crossed out, while one picture had a circle over the student’s face. likely who he planned would be his next victim. they even found a box hidden in his closet, filled with his trophies from the victims – vials of their blood. 

neal stood outside, watching as forensics went in and out of hayes’ house, the numerous police officers and FBI agents gathering evidence for conviction. he watched as connor hayes was packed into the back of a police car, taken away to live the rest of his life rotting in jail. neal wondered how someone could do something like that. he could barely pick up a gun, hating them as much as he did, and yet here he was, in such close proximity to someone who had killed four people. 

“don’t think too hard about it,” y/n said, startling him out of his thoughts.

“what?” neal asked, now looking at her. he was amazed at himself over the fact that, despite standing in the middle of a crime scene where a serial killer had just been apprehended, he was in awe of how beautiful his girlfriend was. it was like the entire world simply drifted away, and it was just the two of them now. that was the effect she had on him. 

“the why. you can do countless interviews with these monsters, understand the psychology behind it, hell you could even get the reasoning behind it from the killers themselves. still, you’ll never fully understand how they could do something like that,” she told him as she squinted at the scene before them.

“am i truly that transparent that you knew exactly what i was thinking?” neal replied, smiling at her.

“nah, i just read minds,” she said, grinning up at him. 

she lifted herself up to her tip toes, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. she grabbed his hand, squeezing it once. she told him that she’d check with hotch if the two of them were needed for anything more, letting go and walking inside the house to find out where hotch had gone. she had been standing in the serial killer’s living room when she spotted hotch a few rooms away, being able to see him in the kitchen thanks to the open floor plan the guy had. 

“so, you chose a criminal over me?” a voice said from behind her. 

she turned to the origin of the voice, and lo and behold, spencer reid stood right in front of her. the question he asked only partly registered in her head. 

“what?” she asked, trying to keep calm. she could feel herself beginning to see red just at the fact he had the audacity to speak to her with anything other than apology for what he’d done. 

“neal caffrey, your new boyfriend. he’s a criminal, no? i mean, he’s a criminal consultant, and walks around with a fancy ankle monitor. and if i remember correctly, which of course i do, he was convicted of bond forgery and spent four years in prison. so what in god’s name are you doing with the likes of him?” he sneered at her, clearly trying to insinuate she had downgraded.

the look on his face pissed her off. she’d been done with spencer the moment she left after finding out he’d been cheating on her for months. the way his brows furrowed as if he were holier than thou temporarily made her want to put his head through the wall. she only became more angry when she realized his dig at neal. 

she’d fallen in love with neal within a year of them knowing each other. he may have been a criminal, but he was the best thing that had ever happened to her. through his charming and sly exterior, he’s been an absolute dream. he was kind, and thoughtful. even on the coldest days, if she’d forgotten her coat, he’d give her his. even if he was already freezing, any indication she was cold would mean his coat was being shrugged off and pulled over her shoulders. if she mentioned wanting to see a movie, the next morning there’d be two tickets sitting on their dining table, with a little note from neal telling her to get ready for their date night. sometimes they’d get home from the office at different times, and she couldn’t count how often she would come home to flowers from neal, or he would bring home a bouquet for her. every worry of hers was quelled the second he’d come into the room, and he was so incredibly patient with her when she’d first come to new york. 

she came to him broken and battered from the bau, and he’d sat meticulously gluing back together each and every piece. even the ones that most people would deem too tiny to keep, and would throw away – he kept. he pieced her back together and takes care to keep her that way. he loves her more fully than she’s ever been loved before, and she loved him just as much. spencer standing in front of her, all smug, trying to say that neal is a bad guy just because he went to prison once is honestly infuriating. 

“what exactly are you trying to say, spencer? because if you’re trying to make it seem like neal is a bad guy because he used to dabble in forgery, you’re way out of your league. who’s the one who decided to cheat on me for six months with a girl over the phone? here’s a hint, in case you can’t remember, it wasn’t neal. and let’s be real, he helped out more on this case than you did. he may be a criminal, spencer, but he’s more honest than you’ll ever be,” she seethed. 

“is there a problem here?” neal said, wrapping his arm expertly around her. 

neither she nor spencer were sure when he’d entered the room, but she was glad he was here. she could’ve stood here, alone, and knocked down anything spencer would have said to her for as long as she needed to. and yet, having neal here calmed the frustration in her heart. 

“not anymore,” she responded, leaning into his touch. her eyes narrowed at him, mouth contorting into a frown. 

spencer searched for words, but he couldn’t find any. he’d been told by every member of the bau that the only thing he should say to her is a heartfelt apology. he’d been haunted by his actions, by her for years. and yet, seeing her with neal, seeing how happy she was, it annoyed him. there was a part of him, though he wouldn’t admit it, that wished she’d come back to him as easily as she’d left. the moment he set his eyes on neal, on her wrapped in his arms when they walked into the office, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. he knew there was no chance in hell she’d come back to him. he knew that, in the end, he’d be sitting in his apartment, looking at her facebook for the third time in the day and find pictures of them on their wedding day. he screwed up the second he started speaking to maeve, and yet he was angry at her for moving on. it killed him. 

“did you talk to hotch yet?” neal said, turning his attention to y/n. she shook her head no, and he nodded, pulling her along to go talk to him.

“what a man, you’re not going to defend yourself or your girlfriend?” spencer spat out, his mouth working faster than his brain. the guilty part of his brain wanted to take it back.

“i know she can handle herself. she already did. i’m not sure why you’re looking for a fight, but if you want one that badly, i can promise you’ll be the one on a stretcher,” neal said, giving spencer a cold stare before leaving the room. 

by the time her confrontation with spencer had ended, hotch had moved to another room. they were wrapping things up, and the forensics specialists were the only ones needed to finish everything. hotch told them that they would all get going soon. he only asked neal to look over some evidence they’d found that was art related, which neal was quick to help with. 

back at the office, neal and y/n helped peter fill out some paperwork for the case they’d just work on. he told them to go home, to rest, but they wanted to help. plus, they knew it meant there’d be less work to do tomorrow. the bau had gathered their things, and they were ready to leave. the only thing left was to say their goodbyes. 

“please stay in touch, and promise me we’ll get together soon,” penelope said through choked tears, holding onto her best friend.

“i promise,” y/n said, hugging penelope tight enough that it almost looked like she was afraid this was the last time she’d see her. 

in some way, it was true. she was worried that their jobs and lives would interfere so often that they’d never get to see each other again. and yet, she also knew that they’d see each other again. there was no doubt in her mind that they’d see each other again within a few months, and giggle over coffee about the most recent juicy drama they’d heard. and there were always phone calls and texts, which would keep them connected while they waited to see each other again. 

emily and jj made her promise to keep in touch, too. the four of them, emily, jj, penelope, and y/n/, made a solemn vow to have a getaway trip together sometime soon. a nice, warm getaway to the caribbean sounded wonderful to all of them. especially considering just how cold this winter had been. 

rossi and morgan made her swear to keep in touch. rossi made the promise of making his extra special pasta, just for her, if she ever visited. it was an offer she couldn’t pass up, and she made a note in her head to go just for some pasta. 

“promise me you won’t stop writing, kiddo,” hotch said to her, his hand on her shoulder. 

she nodded, tears causing her throat to close up. she whispered a very quiet, “i promise” before enveloping him in a hug. everything she had now, the life she made for herself, the healthy relationship she was in – she had hotch to thank. it was because of him that she managed to start fresh after what happened with spencer. it was because of him barely hesitating when she said she needed to leave the bau, because she just couldn’t bare to work there anymore, that she’d landed at the white collar unit with peter. it was because of him that she crossed paths with neal, and was now in the happiest place she could be. all of what had happened, she had hotch to thank for. the man who became the closest person she had to a father when she was living in quantico, was the man she had to thank for everything working out the way it should have.

her slew of tears were inevitable. she’d been trying too hard to keep it contained, to only shed a few, and yet she still broke. they were more than just her friends. they were her family. it had been difficult to leave them years ago, and it was difficult to watch them go now. she knew that this wouldn’t be the last time they’d see each other – there would be other cases to help out on or they’d all get together when they had vacation. even then, it was hard watching someone leave. the human brain is incapable of deciphering the different kinds of grief. it’s all one and the same to the brain, so even though she knew they’d be back, her brain already begun to grieve them, and the tears were pouring. 

spencer stood off to the side, waiting for them to all finish. he wondered what things would be like, if he wasn’t an idiot. or if he wasn’t a complete asshole to her earlier. he wished that she’d forgive him, but he knew he didn’t deserve that. not after what he’d said to her. not after what he’d done all those years ago. he’d been reaping the consequences, not only with her leaving but with maeve dying not long after y/n left. he had everything, and then he blinked, and it was all gone. 

so instead, he turns around and leaves, knowing that he is undeserving of anything from her. 

· · ✮ · ·

neal was sitting on the couch of the space june rented out for him, a space that slowly became home for him and y/n. his legs were outstretched onto the coffee table, a book in his hand. from his periphery, on the right side, he could see her walk out of the bathroom. she was clad in her favorite pajamas – one of his shirts and pink pajama shorts. the shorts he bought as part of his one year anniversary present for her. her feet padded softly across the floor as she made her way towards him, and he turned his head, grinning up at her when she reached closer. she stood next to him, placing her hands on the arm of the couch and leaning towards neal, smiling back.

“ready for bed?” he asked, and he earned a nod in response.

his eyes practically sparkled as he looked at her. to him, in this very moment, as she stood wearing his shirt and frilly pink pajama shorts, she was the most beautiful girl in the world. and in every moment after this one, she would still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. that was something he knew would never change. 

she tip-toed around the couch and coffee table, slipping between the two and plopping down on the couch. she lifted her feet up, resting them on the left side of the couch as she lied her head on neal’s lap. her hands settled near his knees. his hand instinctively went to her head, brushing her hair back. in slow, sweet movements his fingers played with her hair.

it was such a little thing, yet something about neal made her feel so safe. comfortable. happy. the way he looked at her as though she’d hung the stars and moon in the sky just for him. the way his eyes dilated, so full of emotion each time he looked at her. the way he effortlessly made her feel the good kind of butterflies in her stomach. the way he smiled at her as if she’d just brought the sun in after a dark night. neal made her whole. 

he slightly closed the book he’d been reading as his fingers twirled in her hair. it was still open, but just barely, his thumb holding open the page he’d left off on. the pages had flopped in, some curling beneath each other. the cover faced the floor while the back of the book was up towards the ceiling

“whatcha readin’?” she mumbled, worn out from the day. 

“i’m doing a re-read of the count of monte cristo. i’ve reached the part where dantès is in jail and abbé started teaching him everything,” he responded.

“ooohhh i love that one. read to me?” she asked, turning her head to look up at him slightly. she smiled, batting her eyelashes as if he was difficult to convince. neal laughed, leaning down to press a kiss to her head. 

“always, my love,” he whispered, opening the book up more and wrapping his left arm around her so he could hold the book up with both hands. she had to stop herself from frowning at the loss of his fingers in her hair, quickly perking up as he started to read. 

she smiled, staring at the book. she tried to follow along with what he read, but her eyes started to feel heavier and heavier. she closed them, opting to simply listen instead. her heart was full as he read to her. after about a chapter, her thoughts wandered slightly. she thought about how lucky she was to have neal. she thought about how she wanted to spend every night this way, ready to go to bed and yet staying awake simply to spend more time together. she thought about how much she loved neal. she thought of the first time she met him, and when they started dating.

it wasn’t easy for neal to convince her to go on a date with him. the first day she walked through the doors of the white collar office, she’d been earlier than expected. peter hadn’t briefed neal on the situation yet to tell him to dial down the charm. he’d strolled right up to her, offering his hand and his signature smile. despite the look on her face, clearly exhausted and not very welcoming of bullshit, he tried to be witty. she ended up laughing at his opening line, which to him was a win, especially after peter finally told him. he was happy that he could make her laugh in the middle of what was arguably the lowest point of her late 20s. from the very start, he insisted that he’d take her out one day, flashing his charming smile and flirting with her.

he waited a year. he built her trust, and she built on his. he shared secrets with her that he hadn’t told anyone else – not even mozzie. he’d gotten closer to her, becoming the first person she’d go to in the mornings when she arrived at the office. at the start, she’d only gone to peter or her desk – her only two comforts in a new place. eventually, that changed to saying hello to neal first and bugging him about a case file or papers splattered all over his desk. 

it took a while before she agreed to a date. even when she wanted to say yes, she waited until she knew she was ready. she didn’t want to risk messing it up. neal asked her out four times. the first time was not long after they met. she told him she couldn’t, not yet, and he told her he’d wait. he knew she’d need time, and so he let it pass until he thought she might be ready. he tried two more times after that, both at points he thought were right. she nearly said yes both of those times, but still shook her head no. both times he took it well, understanding and proceeding to buy her coffee. it was his way of letting her know outside of words that he would continue waiting until she was ready. 

the day she did say yes, he’d been ecstatic. truthfully, he nearly didn’t ask that day. he was expecting another no, and would’ve taken it graciously. yet, when she walked in the door that day, something in the air shifted and pushed him to ask. she still remembers the way his eyebrows shot up when she finally said “yes” to him. he would’ve waited years for her if he had to. he still would, now. 

if someone had told her a few years ago, on the road to new york city, that this is where she would end up, she would’ve laughed in their face. that kind of reality was completely out of question for her. three years ago, she felt her world come crashing down, and she thought there was no chance of digging herself out of the rubble. little did she know, that three years later, the little “yes” that led to one, two, three more dates would bring her here. 

as she listened to neal read, having missed a lot of what he’d already said at this point, she opened her eyes. he’d already passed another two chapters, and was about to start the third.

“hey, neal?” she interrupted before he got the chance to start reading that chapter.

he rested the book on his legs, his right hand holding it as his left moved to caress her shoulder. 

“yes, love?” he asked, looking down at her. 

“i love you,” she said, and she meant it with everything she had. 

“i love you. always,” he told her, his voice quieting to a near whisper at the end. 

three, simple little words. so little had been said aloud, and yet so much had been said between the two of them. the room quieted, the two of them lying there, on the couch, intertwined. the book since discarded to the floor beside the couch. they would eventually move to the bed, shutting off the lights and sliding beneath the bedsheets. they wouldn’t turn away from each other, instead once again seeking one another out. hands grabbing to pull them closer. by the morning, the sheets would be halfway off the bed, but they would still be holding one another. they’d go to the office and finish a case by 3 in the afternoon. they’d go to dinner, neal would pull out the ring box he’d been hiding in various places for the last 10 months. yes, eventually that would all happen.

but for now, they would lie here, on the couch, and thank the lucky stars above for helping them find one another.

[fatphobiabusters]

This isn't really a question, but I'm just so fucking tired of everyone assuming that I'm fat because I overeat. Particularly my grandma, who is also fat, and so she thinks she knows everything (she also doesn't believe my fibromyalgia is as bad as I say it is, because I am fat).

In reality, I don't eat enough a lot of days. I may be a little incentivized to do it by disordered behavior, but I usually just straight up forget OR I'm in too much pain from my fibro to even make anything. My diet is also limited cos' of autism AND by food stamps, so I'm kind of stuck in a tough place regarding food right now, and it just wears on my very soul every time someone says that I must be eating too much and that's why I'm fat.

Like, the thinnest I've ever been (in an adult body) was still "overweight" despite the fact that I was quite literally starving myself. 165lbs, I think. My build is curvy and broad, and clings onto fat like its nobody's business, and I have gone to nutritionists and doctors begging for answers and all of them come away with nothing because my position, with only food stamps and an incredibly limited ability to cook and consume healthy food due to autism & fibromyalgia, is just impossible to be healthy in. There is no way for me to even begin becoming physically "healthy" until I no longer struggle so much with chronic pain and fatigue, meanwhile everyone tells me that I must become physically "healthy" before those things go away.

I'm just tired. Maybe it's the years and years of this. Maybe it's my chronic fatigue. Maybe it's just that I haven't eaten since last night. I don't know. But it's sooooo fun to get a lecture about your weight when your body is churning with nausea because you haven't eaten in twenty hours.

Thanks for being kind souls. Your blog definitely makes me feel better sometimes. Keep up the good work for our community 💚

I feel for you about this. I have autism and other disabilities that majorly affect what I'm able to eat too. It's so difficult just to do the simple act of nourishing ourselves, and yet we're constantly berated by fatphobes and assholes who make assumptions based on fatphobic stereotypes, using that as justification to harass and oppress us. It's fucked up. Adding the situation of food stamps on top of that makes it even more difficult to nourish yourself. And from my understanding, the government loooooooves to restrict people on food stamps from being able to buy premade foods, which is a vital type of staple food for anybody with a disability, especially disabilities like autism or ADHD (in my case). I also feel for you about that hypocrisy of people telling you to become physically healthy to end your chronic pain and fatigue to *looks at notes* ...become physically healthy so you can...end your chronic pain and fatigue. It's a never-ending cycle, similar to the unending cycle of poverty that you're also stuck in. Just in case you need to hear this, you deserve to eat. You deserve to eat any food you can manage to eat, no matter how nutritious that food is. You also don't owe anybody "health"—not your grandma, not the fatphobes who harass you, no one. Disabled people and fat people do not owe "health" to anybody, and that especially includes people who are both fat and disabled.

You're probably tired of hearing advice, so ignore this if you need. My immediate thought was that you may benefit from using ADHD coping mechanisms whether or not you actually have ADHD because some of these coping mechanisms involve making tasks easier. So instead of forcing yourself to endure pain to make a sandwich, you could take the components of a sandwich and eat them separately to save your body that extra effort and pain. Instead of forcing yourself through the pain of doing dishes, use paper plates and plastic cutlery. Stuff like that. However, I understand that you may already be doing this stuff or that these ideas may not work for your situation, but I hope they will. I'm glad that this blog has been able to help you! Thank you for continuing to support this blog! -Mod Worthy

----

I don't have too much to add, I too get the "brain picks random foods as bad" problem.

https://www.budgetbytes.com/ heres a website for cheap recipes I've used a few

https://leannebrown.com/good-and-cheap-2/ heres a pdf specifically for food stamps users

I can recommend trying different textures/prep methods. I haaaate mushy veggies I need my veggies firm and cronch. I like steaming them. You can find steamer bags or a insert steamer tray.

Figuring out texture has been so key to being able to work around the brain issues. Not perfect but it helps. Identifying what's safe and seeing how to add to it is probably the best approach.

Remember eating anything is better than nothing. If you gotta add a ton of mayo or cheese or whatever to something to eat it then do it. Broccoli covered in cheese is still Broccoli.

And adding a multivitamin! Most people don't need them but they are perfect for people like us who have limitations.

Finding out your local food pantry situation is good too. They can supplement your food bill. ( They also often have things like toothpaste as well) if you haven't already. It can bring up a lot of feelings for people but they are there to help.

Remember, your life is only required to look like your life and no one else's. Like worthy said use whatever ritual, cheat or shortcut you need to, to live the life that you aim for.

I hope your symptoms are mild and your support system starts supporting you. 💜

-Mod squirrel

[railights]

Zip bomb 2 HEHEHEHE

Sweetheart Stalker! Slimecice x fan! reader. MDNI, NSFW under the cut.

Some plot, mostly porn. The fan bit isn’t too major but is mentioned in passing a couple of times. He makes good use of you being at his place is all I’m saying. Kinda drunk reader, more like tipsy, fully aware, just a little buzzy. Face fucking, riding, then missionary. 4.1k words.

I'm surprised at how much I wrote, it felt like it just kept going… I know I'm a little late, but its also much longer, so I'd say good trade. Enjoy!!

It has been a couple of months since Charlie finally got access to your phone, and he has been making full use of it. Having maybe too many videos from when you were posing in your phone camera or whenever you masturbated saved in a locked folder on his computer. Once he spotted plushie merch of his through your phone camera, he had an idea.

Sneaking into your house when he knew you weren’t home, swapping out the plushie for an identical one but with a sewn-in camera, basically invisible unless you got another, and comparing them side-by-side. Which was very unlikely, and at that point, he’d probably send you a ‘special’ plushie.

Tonight was a friend's 21st birthday, so it was pretty obvious how it would be celebrated. A nice restaurant followed up with a bar not too far away. You couldn’t deny you got a little lost in the fun of it all, laughing with friends and drinking extra because “it was a special night, and I can excuse just one more.”

When Charlie notices your location was at a bar just around the corner from his place, he couldn’t help himself from going there too. He told himself he’d only look out for you, just in case a creep spiked your drink or something. Though he was secretly hoping you’d come up to him. 

As he walked into the bar, his eyes found you like magnets meeting. Finding a seat before settling to just watching you. Trying not to look creepy, but it’s hard to not look creepy when you’re being creepy. Desperately trying not to stare and get himself caught. Erratically glancing between you and his drink.

But apparently he wasn’t the worst creep in this bar (or at least he told himself that.) His eyes stuck to your drink as he watched a guy put some weird powder into it. Watching it made his blood boil, the idea that some asshole would do that and the fact that the guy was so desperate for you he’d drug you to get you home.

He immediately got out of his seat. His walking was purposeful, and he quickly grabbed at your arm before you could take a sip from the drugged drink. Yet, he was too late. You took a huge swig before he could reach you. 

“Sorry, but I noticed the guy in green put some weird powder in your drink. Are you okay...?” He cautiously asked, his hand softly holding onto your wrist to prevent you from taking another drink. What he said next was all jumbled in your memory, but knowing he somehow convinced you to go home with him…

To be fair, he seemed sweet, you were tipsy, and he was (or at least looked like, you couldn’t tell) a YouTuber you really liked. So what the hell, sure. Leaning some of your weight onto him, letting him help you move with a little mandhadneling. Stumbling slightly since your feet were hurting, and the high of the alcohol had yet to start wearing off. Basically falling into the seat of his car with a sigh. 

He’d love to take you to your house, but that'd be weird, right? You hadn’t told him your address, so him knowing it would probably freak you out… His place it was. “Do you want some water? Painkillers?” He asked, his eyes briefly flickering to you in his passenger seat, trying desperately not to get a hard-on simply because you were so close. “Both would be nice.” You softly hummed out, eyes stuck on his face, unsure if you were just crazy drunk or if your favourite YouTuber was driving you home. “Both should be in the glove box,” he added sweetly, keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the wheel as he leaned to the side and opened up the glove box for you. 

Your drunken brain meant you fumbled around with all the random things in the glove box before finding the box of painkillers and a bottle of water. It took me maybe too long to read the words on the box to make sure you weren’t taking something random. 

The pills are going down without a hitch, and the water feels like heaven. Slightly cold and hydrating. You basically chugged it, drinking as much as possible before needing to breathe. Soft pants leave you once you've downed half the bottle at once. Not taking another minute to down the other half. 

It felt like it wasn’t long before you were at his place, your weight on him as you stumbled into his house. Simple, yet not barren. Nothing particularly stands out about his place: normal size, normal furniture, normal layout. Your eyes roamed as he fetched you a glass of water. 

The soft clink of the glass against the coffee table brings you back to the present. God, he was hot, his build making you feel like a creep for staring. And he was sweet, taking you back to his place and obviously not even trying to initiate anything. It was hard not to develop a crush with how perfect he seemed. 

Half-lidded eyes looking him up and down slowly, taking in his physique and face. You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was the fact that you were still drunk. But you couldn’t help yourself. Pulling him into a kiss, your hands caressing the back of his neck to keep him close, and your lips met. The kiss lasted too long to not be something he was also thinking about. 

His mind grew fuzzy, just naturally accepting your kiss, it was something he had dreams about on the regular, there was no way he’d be able to stop himself. His hand rested on your cheek as he continued to press his lips into yours. A mixture of yours and his saliva coated both your lips. Only for him to come to his senses in a flash. 

“I would love to, but you’re drunk, taking advantage of you in this state would make me as bad as the guy who spiked your drink.” He muttered it out, using every ounce of self-restraint in his body to push you away, no matter how much he wanted to just give in. “I’ve sobered up enough to be aware… I know I’m drunk, but I also know I won't regret this.” You softly hummed, hands still running up and down his neck, “I’m not even tripping over my words or falling over.” You added, trying to convince him you were sober enough to consent. 

Swiftly being surprised by a kiss as he gave in to both your begging and his desperation to fuck you. Pressing your body into his and returning the kiss once you're settled into it. Slowly pushing him back onto his couch, careful not to bump into any of his furniture. The kisses were desperate and sweet as you both moved. “There's no way I could say no to you.” He muttered out in the small breaks between the kisses. 

Quickly sitting into his lap, your hands on his chest as the kisses continued. His tongue is basically down your throat. Slowly sliding your hands down, stopping at the hem of his dumb alpha wolf shirt. Hiking up under the hem, feeling his bare stomach, his skin warm against your hands. Watching his head fall back as you slowly hiked up his shirt made you grin. Enjoying it as you simultaneously pulled up his shirt and felt up his body. 

Throwing the shirt to the side before starting to pepper kisses along his body. From his chest to his cheek, leaving small red marks and tiny hickeys behind with each bite. Only pulling away when you felt him tug at your shirt. “May I?” He asked, just double-checking before trying to take your shirt off. 

All it took was a nod before he was practically ripping it from your shape. Discarding it in a pile with his shirt before setting his hands on your sides. Softly running up and down your waist as he moved in and kissed at your neck. The bites slightly stung against your skin as he intended to leave maybe too many hickies. 

Savouring every moment he got to look at and touch you, it was basically heaven. The soft curves and tender feeling of your skin under his hands. He was groaning at the sight of it. Instinctively starting to grind your hips against him, creating much-wanted friction between the two of you. His soft groans were more than enough to tell you he was loving it just as much as you. 

“I need more than just kisses,” you softly pleaded, your hand running down his torso before meeting his crotch. Softly rubbing against the obvious tent in his pants. The feeling made him shudder under you. “Yea —yeah.” Charlie softly panted back, his breath hitching as he watched you slowly move from his lap to sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Beginning to fiddle with his belt and jeans before you could even ask to ‘help.’ 

Helping him pull down his jeans, fighting with his ankles a little before you left the jeans on the floor beside you. Your hands run down his chest, past his stomach, before meeting his crotch. Softly making their way to wrap around his dick. 

Start with soft, gentle strokes, letting your eyes flicker between his and his eyes. A smile grew on your face seeing how almost pathetic he looked, desperate for how you touched him. Loving the way your hand felt on him, making it obvious for you. 

A shiver runs down his spine as you let him into your mouth. God, oh god, you were here and actually sucking his dick, he could almost cum at the thought of it. Your tipsy head running hot, feeling your face throb and run flush as you pushed him into your mouth. He was so cute too, bucking his hips against your face with almost cute grunts and whines with every movement. You wondered if it was because he hadn’t had sex in a while or if it was you. 

His hand reached down and softly held onto your hair. Feeling every inch of your mouth, the wet warmth. Simply guiding your head as it bobbed up and down. He couldn’t help but lift his hips into the feeling, trying his hardest to not give in to his weird urges and fuck your face. 

Holding your hair softly, continuing to moan out with each movement your mouth made against him. Holding back his hips every time they naturally buckled up into your face. 

Very easily noticing him trying his hardest not to thrust into your mouth, you pulled away just to talk. “I like face-fucking, you know,” you teased, watching his eyes widen and face flush at your crude words. “You’d let me? Only if you want to,” He softly painted, his cock twitching at the idea, making you softly giggle. “Mhm,” you simply hummed before lowering your head down again around his size. Pushing him as deep as you could get him before looking up at him with big pleading eyes.

He couldn't help himself, and even though you told him you wanted him to, he gave it to him. Holding your head in place with his hand and slowly bringing his hips back and forth against your face. The small, sweet moans you let out to show you were enjoying it only egged him on. Moving to stand up to make thrusting easier, he moved back to a side sit as he stood up. Pressing yourself up against your own leg for any amount of friction you could get yourself. 

Just letting him use your mouth to its fullest to please himself. You couldn’t deny him controlling you like this was hot. Soaking through your panties, softly grinding yourself against your achilles, desperate for any friction you could get. Feeling your own precum seep from your cunt onto your leg with each movement. Moving your hips in sync with Charlie's hips. He knew you were grinding against the back of your leg, he could feel your moans. 

The sweet vibrations adding to it, your cute face looking up as he stuffed your mouth full of his dick—the sight was one he saw in his dreams. Watching you take him down your throat was half the pleasure of it. You could see and feel how much he liked it. The frequent throbbing, cute moans, and desperate movements were more than enough to reassure you you were doing a good job. 

Your breath hitches against his size as he pushes a little deeper and moves a little faster. Fully accepting him as deep as your body would let him go. Pushing him deeper yourself, leaning into his thrusts, enjoying it as he made the most of your mouth. Watching his hips shudder and his moans grow, you knew what was coming. 

“Fuck, please…” He muttered out between desperate pants and moans. His hips basically slapping against your face as his pace quickened, his grip on your hair tightened, and high closed in. His desperate moans were so hot, desperately fucking into your mouth for any pleasure he could get out of it. It didn’t take long for him to spill everything into your mouth.

Keeping himself pushed right up to the base. Throwing his head back as he revelled in the feeling of you. 

Panting hard once he pulled out of your mouth, a slight tickle in the back of your mouth made you cough a little now that your mouth was free. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Charlie immediately asked, seeing your head drop and coughing, kneeling to be at your height. He’s so sweet, it’s so cute. Just letting out a soft chuckle at how cute he was being. You reassure him you’re fine by simply pressing your lips to his. 

Your hands move up from the floor to rest on his bare chest. Slowly making their way up to around his neck. Pulling him close as panting kisses continued. Letting him pull you up with him as he stood back up. Gasping against his mouth as he suddenly lifted your legs from beneath you. Though you adjusted easily, quickly wrapping your legs around him to stabilise yourself. 

You didn’t even notice it as he walked you to his room. A sweet, playful laugh left your lips as you were brought back to reality as he roughly sat you on his lap as he flopped onto the bed. The deep kisses continue as long as you both need, aka too much. Both of you shuffling up to reach the head of the bed instead of being halfway to falling off. 

“I don’t want to waste any time…” You softly panted, your hand reaching down, pulling down your panties and discarding them to the floor of his room. Your hand soon returns to line him up to your entrance. Every bone in your body is begging to be filled by him. Softly and slowly lowering your hips till they met his. 

The same sight he’d been imagining for months was finally in front of him. Not in any rush to finish, just wanting to enjoy your bodies together. Charlie’s hands are holding up your butt, doing half the moving work for you. Using your hands on his shoulders to support you as well, it wasn’t even slightly tiring to bounce softly against him, though he was doing half the work. A sweet rhythm between you two developed as you settled into a consistent pace. 

Interrupting his soft groans with a kiss, you moved your hands to rest on the bed beside his hips to lean down and reach him. Both of you moaning into each other's mouths. Enjoying every second as he filled you up. Every touch and movement feels like heaven to your buzzing head. 

Your legs move to put your weight on your shins and knees, leaning forward as he lays back. The rhythmic slapping timed with both your moans made the moment even better. More real. Dropping your head to rest against his shoulder as you get yourself to move faster.

Every ounce of energy is going into enjoying the moment. Desperate moans came from both of you as he started helping you move. His hands doing basically half the work. Though muscles aren’t just for show, they make everything better. 

The feeling is starting to get to you. The pleasure is getting to your dizzy head, not sure how close you are, just moving and moving to feel that sweet release. Clamping down around him as it becomes too much. Your hips twitching into him, your whines becoming weaker. Soon your hips fall against his, and you drop your face to rest over his shoulder. “There we go… there we go…” He sweetly cooed, slowing his thrusts as your high faded. Soon, he starts to move again, his hands moving your butt up and down against him. 

His movements are much more forceful this time, desperately thrusting up into you as he chases his high. “You can handle a little more till I cum right?” He softly panted, his hips starting to pick up speed. With a soft whine of ‘mhm’ from your lips, he replied, “Yea? Good girl, just a little more.” Your insides were sore, aching from him hitting your weak spot over and over. Aching for it to be over, at the same time, your body also begged for more. The pleasure was overwhelming as he continued ramming into you after you came. 

“Please let me cum inside you, please, fuck —please.” He pleaded between panting breaths, his eyes glued to where your bodies met. His hands holding your hips up, he frantically thrusts up into you, both your moans growing. His movements never slowed for a second as he neared his high, desperate to reach it. 

God, it was hot, with him desperately thrusting up into you, the sweetest moans leaving his lips like second nature. Everything about this was so intoxicating, the soft buzz of the alcohol mixed with the raw pleasures of somebody you found attractive fucking into you was so good. This was the kind of scene you’d masturbate thinking about. 

You could’ve sworn you came again when he did, the feeling of him filling you up more than enough, though you couldn’t really tell through your dizzy blissfulness. Though the slight afterglow was enough to prove you did. Panting as you held yourself up, only able to maintain it for a few seconds before collapsing on top of him. Your head on his chest, and his cock still inside you. 

Pulling yourself up to his height, a comical pop as his size left your cunt. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hiding your face in his neck as both your highs settled. His hands softly rubbing your back, holding you as close as you could get. He would honestly fuse into one with you if you could. 

Rolling you both onto your sides as you settled into his bed. “Sorry about your sheets.” You muttered lowly against his skin, “Worth it. What are stained sheets to the idea of getting to fuck the girl of my dreams?” He hummed. As he held you close, he couldn’t help but think about what just happened, enjoying the post-fuck high. His face pressed against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. 

He couldn’t help but keep touching you, his hands continuing to roam all over your body as he settled into a cuddle with you. Roaming across your thighs, back to your butt, and up your back before circling back down. Every touch is slow and purposeful, making the most of your proximity to him. 

“You’re hard again!?” You softly spoke, feeling him against you. It was impossible to hide, taking into account you were naked cuddling. “I’m not opposed to another…” You softly panted, your hand sliding down to his lower stomach. 

“But I think my legs would give out after two bounces.” “I know a solution to that.” He smiled, moving his body to be over you, his hands on either side of your head. Looking down at you with an ever-growing smile. “Are you sure you’re okay to go again? I don’t want to hurt you,” he softly spoke, his eyes flickering between your cum-soaked cunt and pleasure-ridden face. 

The sight and feeling combined made him shudder, the sweet sounds from both your lips driving him crazy. Each passing moment felt like he was getting higher and higher on some kind of crazy hallucinogenic. But it was real, so real. 

“Yeah, I know, I know, I know you’re sensitive.” He softly spoke, kissing at the side of your face, slowly pushing himself into you. “So good for me.” He panted between groans, his hand softly caressing your skin as he held you up by under your knees so he could push himself deeper.

The sweet groans he lets out are louder this time, both of you more sensitive with each passing movement. His hips pressing in to you as deep as he can get, loving every inch of you. A mutual moan as he slowly presses in. He moved his hips forward carefully. Starting slow and shallow, slowly making his way deeper and deeper with each miniature movement. Clinging onto him like your life depended on it as both your bodies rocked in sync, momentum slowly building. 

You both knew you couldn’t last nearly as long this time, and that was good, honestly. You were both tired, yet still fucking like you’d die without this one last orgasm. Every movement from the both of you is primal and basic, just enjoying the simple pleasure of being intertwined so closely. 

God, you looked and felt flawless, and he thinks you are flawless. His hands tight on your waist, he thrusts against you hungrily, enjoying every little sensation as he watches your bodies move in unison. Your sensitivity increased with each touch, and you could feel the knot in your stomach growing. Any desire to stop due to fatigue is outweighed tenfold by the overwhelming pleasure as you two mix body parts. 

As he grew more eager, closer to his goal, his body also weakened from the frantic thrusts. His head dropped a bit, his mouth just by your ear, his soft groans right in your ear. The feeling is almost too much. A sweet knot in your stomach starts to form. Pushing your hips up towards him, wanting all the friction you can get. Softly grinding up against him in time with his thrust. Each feeling only made you more and more sensitive. “Are you gonna cum? Yeah?” He panted, “Go on then, cum for me, show me how much you like this.”

Like an animal in search of food, his lips are latching onto your neck. There will undoubtedly be a mark from the way his teeth are against your skin. Every time his hips meet my butt, a rhythmic slap enters the air. blending with our moans to produce a highly sensual environment. 

Reaching your peaks at the same time together. Grasping his muscles, you scratch his back. Deep, gentle thrusts accompany his filling you up, keeping his body as close to yours as possible. Clinging to him like you’d die if you let go, enjoying every feeling—the feeling of his toned back, the way he spilt inside you, the hot moans he let out—everything was perfect. 

As you high faded, your grip on him loosened, and his on you as well, both panting as you locked eyes. A sweet afterglow was shared between you two as you both calmed down. He soon started peppering soft, loving kisses across your face, causing soft laughter from how it tickles. The moment is more sweet than sexual with how you’ve both settled. 

He is reluctant to pull out because, in all honesty, he would love to stay this way forever. He whispers, "Let me clean you up," then gets up and gets a towel, wiping the sperm off my body as it drips out. Throwing the now dirty towel into the laundry basket across the room before snuggling into bed with you. Admiring your serene expression as you started to fall asleep. Leaving a small kiss on the tip of your nose before joining you in sleep. 

[genderqueerdykes]

wanted to throw my own two cents of experience in and thank you for your post about how people are fucking stupid when it comes to the fact that yeah no shit police arent a reliable source for statistics Even When It Comes To Trans Men/Mascs, Actually. the bitterly funny thing is i saw it the same day i got hit in a hit and run and i was honest to god glad there werent traffic police around because where i live theres a damn good chance bordering on guarantee i wouldve gotten arrested for being trans instead and that wouldve been goddamn horrible. it didnt land me in the hospital but im still recovering and it fucking sucks. people arent just thoeretical assholes about this theyre being directly fucking cruel and i hope they realise it at least. sorry for throwing all this at you i just. turns out i still have strong feelings about it

it disturbs me deeply when queers throw around ACAB and fuck 12 and then mysteriously become the world's biggest suck ups to the police state in a matter of nanoseconds

i don't know how to tell people that police statistics have never been and will never be accurate. they're not even right for statistics on the violence trans women and fems face due to the sheer number of trans women and fems who are misgendered in their own police reports as well. i'm not sure why people think police statistics are a good source of information for anything. there are so many more trans women and fems that we know of who are facing violent crime every day. this means the exact same thing is going on for trans men and other trans people as well.

people don't realize that trans men and mascs can still get arrested by virtue of being trans because they suck up to heavily skewed police statistics that misgender us at all costs. we are STILL seen as crossdressing women by most law officials in most areas, even in places like the united states. if we're not seen as crossdressing women, we're often seen as trans women and treated accordingly.

it doesn't matter what crimes are involved, the trans man or masc will almost always get misgendered no matter what. it's ruthless. even if our names and gender markers are changed, we'll still get misgendered, especially if they find a trans man or masc with breasts and/or a vagina. what transandrophobes won't tell you is that when trans men with breasts and vaginas are found, they're more often than not sexually assaulted by the cops involved. and it doesn't get reported on. because why would cops rat on themselves?

i'm really sorry this happened to you, but i'm glad you're alright all things considered. i hope things go well with your recovery and that you don't have to deal with anything like this again. i really don't know how anyone who loves to parrot ACAB can, with good conscience, site police reports as a trustworthy source of information on literally anything.

YEP, exactly. i've personally had issues with this, but in reverse.

speaking of violence from intimate partners, i tried to get a restraining order against one of my exes because he broke my leg, but because we were both trans men, none of them took it seriously. in the rare cases that we ARE seen as men, it's always used against us. nobody took my complaints seriously because i'm a masculine man, and my ex was a man, and in their eyes, men can't abuse each other- that's just "normal" for men, men hit each other. like. trans men aren't benefiting from patriarchy, here. trans men who are perceived as men receieve 0 help in domestic violence situations. absolutely none. because "men can't be abused".

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 9

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

I'm really looking forward to sharing Chapter 10 with you guys. I think it'll be a fun little treat :) Stay tuned!

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Chapter 9

“He really is an asshole,” you grumbled as you followed Steph out of your philosophy class, “I wasn’t aware I could define personal happiness incorrectly.”  

“I know, right?” Steph snorted, “He’s such a nihilist. Did you know he has glowing reviews on ‘rate my professor’? And some students think he’s hot too.” She gagged. “I was about ready to check myself into Arkham before I met you. Thank you for confirming I’m not the weird one here.”  

“No, definitely not. He’s the worst.”  

Your relationship with her progressed rapidly after initial contact. Steph was the type of person who hurdled over the friendly acquaintance phase and went straight for ' I would kill everyone in this room and then myself if anything happened to you' level of friendship.   

She moved seats to sit next to you in philosophy and went so far as to buy you a pack of colored gel pens to bring some color to your life . You had yet to open them but carried them in your bag just in case.  

It was nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t a coworker or a literately inclined vigilante—not that you’d seen Hood since the incident at Wayne Manor. Several weeks had passed, not that you were keeping track or anything. You would have thought his absence was intentional, but that would be a delusional take.   Avoidance implied tension, and there was certainly none of that. It’s not like you had spent the last few nights sitting on your fire escape, hoping to catch a glimpse of him patrolling Park Row.  

He was probably busy.  

You were busy too.  

Busy trying to make friends.  

“Hey,” you started as you descended the stairs with her, “I don’t know if you have plans tonight, but I need to get out more and I thought we could…”

Your words dissipated on a puff of air. Did you just admit that you needed a hobby? That was desperate, even for you.  

“Oh my god, are you asking to hang out?” She paused, the sparkle in her eyes dimming as she seemed to remember something. “I would love to. Really, I would, but I teach self-defense classes on Wednesday night at the rec center.”  

You curbed your disappointment with a smile. “That’s fine.”  

“Unless you wanted to come with me?” She gasped and took your hand in both of hers. “You should come! Not only are you learning some handy skills, but it’s a great way to let off some steam. Trust me.”  

You’d taken several self-defense classes over the years. Living on Park Row demanded it, and it was the smart move given how often you worked late shifts at your job. You doubted there was much she could teach you, but her genuine excitement softened your resolve.  

“Sure, why not?”  

She squealed. “You won’t regret it. My friend Cass is coming tonight to help me demonstrate some advanced techniques. You’ll love her. She’s a riot.”  

Steph drove. Her playlist consisted of Chappell Roan, Taylor Swift, and Black Canary which felt right for some reason. She sang off-key, but she made up for her lack of talent with plenty of enthusiasm.  

Once the car was parked, she grabbed her duffel bag and ushered you inside. Several people had already arrived, and she greeted each of them by name, her smile wide. She made being personable look effortless, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.  

“Cass!”  

A young woman standing at the front of the room turned over her shoulder. Her black hair ended in a blunt cut at her jaw, her eyes sharp and discerning. She inclined her head curiously toward Steph as she dragged you up to the front of the room.  

“This is the friend I was telling you about. She hates Edwin too. I told you it wasn’t just me.”  

Amusement pinched her brow as she held out her hand.  

You took it and introduced yourself. “Cass, right?”  

She nodded.  

Her silence intimidated you, but you tried not to let it show. “How do you know Steph?”  

They shared a quick look. You tried to decipher it, but Cass had already turned back to you. “We met doing community service.” Her mouth quirked as if she told a joke, but it wasn’t one you were privy to.  

“And we continue that community service with this class,” Steph said as she motioned for you to sit near the wall of mirrors at the front of the room, “You can just sit and watch for today if this is too much.”  

“Why would I just sit and watch?” you countered, your voice firm but not unkind.  

Her smile broadened as she motioned for you to join the rest of the group. There were about ten people including yourself. You settled at the back of the group as Steph took her place at the front.  

“Welcome back, everyone. We have a few new faces in the crowd, so for those who are joining us for the first time, we’re happy to have you.” Steph shot you a quick wink before continuing, “Over the last few weeks, I’ve given you the techniques that end a fight as quickly and effectively as possible, but what happens when a quick getaway isn’t possible?”  

“We stand our ground and fight,” a smaller girl piped up.  

Her expression softened. “The hope is that you can run to safety, but this Gotham, and we can’t get too comfortable. I’d like to introduce my good friend Cass.”  

Cass waved with a sweet smile.  

“She’s here today to help me demonstrate some basic techniques in hand-to-hand combat. I hope you never have to resort to this, but I want you folks to have as many tools at your disposal.” She sighed dramatically. “It’ll help me sleep better at night.”  

That earned her a few chuckles.  

“We’ll do a quick demonstration. After that, we’ll slow it down and I’ll walk everyone through each of the techniques I used.”  

The pair faced each other, their expression hardening as they sank back onto their heels. The next time you blinked, Cass was little more than a blur as she assaulted Steph with a series of expertly aimed kicks and punches. Her movements flowed like water, one blurring seamlessly into the next with the fine-tuned grace of a dancer. There was a musicality to it. You could count the beats, and see the choreography as they moved across the floor.

Steph held her own, but it was clear that Cass was holding back. She could have moved faster and hit a little harder, but she wasn’t trying to hurt Steph. She could if she wanted to.  

Minutes passed before Steph finally gained the upper hand. She swiped her leg, knocking Cass off balance long enough to pin her to the ground. Steph raised her fists triumphantly, almost as if she had forgotten her audience.  

She finally dragged her attention from Cass to address the group, “I might have gotten a little carried away, but you’ll never walk away saying this class isn’t entertaining. Let’s take it a few steps back and walk through the basics, yeah?”  

The rest of the group cooed and applauded. You, however, were still trying to pick your jaw up off the ground. Maybe you could learn a thing or two from this class after all.  

***  

You returned the next week.  

And the week after that.  

And again, after that.  

A month passed in the blink of an eye, and with it came the shift of the seasons. Heavy snowflakes fell from the sky, accumulating along the edge of the windows outside. You waited for Steph and Cass to clean up following another grueling class. Your joints ached and bruises dotted your shins, but you felt stronger—more prepared.  

Your notebook lay flat across your thighs, several failed attempts at a letter started and subsequently crossed off. After weeks of writing these letters, you weren’t sure what to say that hadn’t already been said. It was much of the same and you didn’t want to bore Bruce with monotony.  

“Whatcha doing?” Steph plopped down beside you and rested her chin on your shoulder. She smelled vaguely of sweat and blue Gatorade, but so did you. “You look conflicted.”  

You flipped your notebook closed. “Just working on a letter.”  

“Why? Is your husband off fighting in the war?”  

Cass smacked her arm.  

She inhaled sharply as she gripped her bicep. “Sorry. Go off, queen. You do you.”  

“It’s not so different from journaling.”  

That’s how you treated them at this point. They were a means to lay out your thoughts and feelings. You had convinced yourself that Bruce was not reading these letters. If he was, he would have already pulled your scholarship. You’d criticized him and the institution. Not to mention all the ridiculous ways you addressed him in your letters. If calling him any version of daddy hadn’t resulted in a cease and desist, you were probably safe.  

“Well, good on you for keeping the art alive,” Steph said, “If I had to write letters, I’d personally use purple ink so that the person could feel my essence.”  

You were convinced Steph saw the world in shades of purple.  

“Good work today,” Cass said, “You’ve improved.”  

Her compliment struck a chord. Cass rarely spoke, and when she did praise was even rarer. “Thank you.”  

She squeezed your shoulder before turning back to her bag.  

Steph slung an arm around your front and said, “So, I’m going to the club with some friends tonight. Do you want to come? They’re cool. Not as cool as Cass, of course, but close enough.”  

“I don’t think anyone is as cool as Cass.”  

She smiled to herself but didn’t comment.  

“Does that mean Cass isn’t going?”  

“I have work.”  

You made a face. “Rough. I know that life. Night shift sucks.”  

“You have no idea.” She took a long sip from her water bottle. It sounded like another inside joke. One day, you hoped to be invited into her circle of secret humor, but you smiled all the same.  

“What do you say?” Steph pressed, “It’ll be fun.”  

You tried to remember the last time you had a night out. You worked parties all the time, but that wasn’t quite the same thing. This was the most social you’d been in months. Did you even have club attire?  

“Are you assuming I’m old enough to get into the club?”  

“That doesn’t matter. It’s Gotham. My friend has connections.”  

Only slightly concerning. You had meant it as a joke, but now you were curious to meet her friends. Steph could probably make friends with anyone if she tried hard enough.  

What was the harm in letting loose—just this once.  

“Will I have time to shower and change?”  

Her eyes sparkled. “Obviously. Do you need to borrow something. I have a—”  

“No, I’m good.” After giving it some thought, you knew exactly what you were going to wear.  

[myg-butterfly]

Nothing New

Ot7! BTS x Choreographer! Reader (Seokjin x Reader focused)

Summary: You get hurt and have to find a replacement. You just didn't think that replacement extended to your relationship with the BTS members. Will they still want you when you're nothing new?

Tags: ANGST (sorry), eventual fluff, Injured!Reader, Fem!Reader, Bangtan are kind of assholes, this isn't really proofread sorry, I also don't know how this shit actually works with Idol groups so I'm just making shit up lolsies.

A/N: HI omg sorry this took FOREVER. I was gonna have this done this weekend but we went to go visit family so I put this aside omg, but it's finalllyyyy here! I hope this lives up to your expectations. Thank you for all the love on the teaser, and remember, comments and feedback are always soooo appreciated!

Taglist: @bangteezbaby @thelilbutifulthings @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @juju-227592 @kikz165 @plexcaffeinate

All the members had just gotten home from rehearsal, and immediately went to find you just so they could throw silly little tantrums about you not being there.

The way they were pouting reminded you more of kicked puppies than world-wide sensations.

"It's fine guys, I know someone who can cover for me until I get better."

"But we like your choreography better." Taehyung whines into your shoulder and you pat his head in comfort.

"It's just a month or two, Tae."

You had broken your leg about a week ago, and consequently, you couldn't continue choreographing for the group until you were fully healed.

Which meant either the boys paused their learning, or you brought someone else in to cover for you - and you're all aware that pausing isn't really an option.

"But I'll miss you." Your boyfriends were overly dramatic, acting like you were leaving even though you all lived together.

"You'll still see me at home, it's not like I'm dropping off the face of the earth."

He huffs into your shoulder and rolls over so he's sitting next to you normally now.

"Anyway, how have you been? Have you felt okay?" Seokjin sits down on the other side of you and you feel yourself growing a bit shy under his caring stare.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

•••

"Hi! Thank you so much for covering for me. We're on a reall-"

"Save it, it's whatever. I always told you you'd need my help again at some point."

You don't like the implications in her tone but you pass it off with a small chuckle.

"Okay, so they already know 2 out of the 5 numbers for this album, and we were in the middle of learning the 3rd one. I taught it to Hoseok in advance so he can take over for that one. So you wouldn't need to be at the studio until next week. I'll send you the videos I took of the foundation of the other 2 numbers so you can learn it and then teach it."

She looked so uninterested in what you were saying, but you had to be professional.

You called her here in the first place.

"Kay, cool, got it. Also, can I get the guys' numbers? You know, just in case."

"Oh uhm, you can ask them when you see them next week… I'm not sure if they want me giving out their numbers to people they don't really know."

"Well they're gonna know me soon right? Don't be greedy, trying to keep all of them to yourself."

She giggles but you can feel that it's not really one of genuine giddiness and you hope that your discomfort isn't apparent.

"I'll ask them when I see them later today."

You plaster on the best smile you can and she gives you an equally forced one back.

"Okay. Bye!"

She basically struts away and you're left standing there; maybe calling her was the wrong move.

•••

Yep. Calling her was probably the wrong move. But it depends on which side of Y/N you ask.

On the professional side, this is absolutely great. They hit it off right away, all the boys growing comfortable with her rather quick (something HYBE valued a lot), and she was great at her job. Talented, bold, confident, friendly, the whole package.

On a more personal side, this was putting you on edge. How suddenly, all the guys would talk about was 'Joanna said this a rehearsal' or 'Joanna invited us out to eat'. It was always Joanna this Joanna that, and you knew they were just excited to have a new friend, to have someone who shares their passion, you couldn't help but wonder if their feelings for you were simply out of excitement. And now that you're not the newest thing around, would they still want you? Would they still talk about you with the same sparkle in their eyes as they do with Joanna? It left a pit in your chest.

And — yeah, calling her was the definitely the wrong move.

Finally, a long-awaited date with all of you. They were filled with energy, talking and joking on the ride there, and you felt your heart growing lighter, you still had them.

They even helped you get off the car with all the gentleness in the world, helped you get in your seat and made sure you were completely comfortable.

The lightness quickly weighed down into something much heavier when you saw Joanna walk in and make her way to the table.

And the weight felt like it had been dropped to you feet when the guys scooted to make space for her, Namjoon even standing up to hug her and letting her sit first so she'd be in between him and Jungkook.

How long has it been since they hugged you with such happiness?

"Oh my god, Y/N, hi! The boys didn't tell me you would be here."

Something about the way she said "the boys" made your hands itch, almost as much as your throat itched to say 'likewise'.

"Welp. I'm here. Haha."

Dinner wasn't fun, to say the least.

Joanna was blatantly saying shit to embarrass you the entire time, and it even worse, your boyfriends seemed to be soaking up her every word, laughing whenever she pointed out something embarrassing about you when she knew you in high school.

"Yeah! And when we choreographed together, she would always forget her parts." She lets out a giggle and Hoseok laughs too: what's so funny?

"It was only once or twice." You groan, mostly to yourself, but Joanna hears it.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Everyone laughs at her words again and suddenly, you start to think that staying home was the better option.

"I've always said she has the memory of a goldfish. Sometimes it felt like I was doing all the work because i constantly had to step in and help when Y/N froze up."

She turns to you when she speaks her next question:

"How are you doing now that I haven't been here to clean up after you? Are you making Jimin do it?" She laughs and nudges Jimin, who's sitting next to her, on the shoulder, and he happily shoves back with a bright smile on her face.

"I'm fine, it's rare that I forget stuff lately."

She gasps in a dramatic manner, you wish she would just disappear already.

"You? Not wasting time in rehearsal? Because you forgot? That's unheard of!"

You hate the way pretty much all of the guys laugh at her words: they know how much work you've put into being a good choreographer. Why were they laughing at you?

Suddenly, you feel the person next to you pressing up closer against you: Seokjin.

You look at him and he has a soft smile on his face, but not towards Joanna; his entire focus is on you.

"You have a really good memory darling. We can tell you've worked on it." The knot in your stomach softens its grip after hearing Seokjin's words, and for the first time since you got here, your smile is genuine.

"Anyways, how'd you injure yourself?"

"Oh, we were doing some cardio and I tripped. Fell at an awkward angle and it twisted my leg. Haha."

Joanna laughs a little too hard at this.

"I've always also said that for a supposed dancer you sure are clumsy as hell."

Some of the guys giggle at her comment, and you look down at your lap: why were they laughing at you?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokjin sit up a little straighter, and you suspect he's gonna say something.

"Supposed dancer?" He raised a brow and to most people, it would've seemed like he was just egging onto the joke, but you and the rest of the table could tell that there was a serious undertone to his question.

It was no secret in your relationship with the guys that Seokjin had a specific soft spot for you – in a relationship as big as yours, its bound that all of you will have your weak spots for one another: Jungkook and Namjoon, Jimin and Taehyung, Hoseok and Yoongi, you and Seokjin.

So you were more than relieved when he met your gaze from across the table; he knew you were uncomfortable.

And as everyone knows, he's not one to stay quiet.

"I just mean it's surprising that for someone so clumsy she went into the professional world where coordination is crucial."

Jungkook uses this point to tease Namjoon, and thankfully the attention is taken off of you. You catch Seokjin's stare again and this time it's accompanied with an apologetic smile and him reaching out his hand to hold yours.

As your hands meet on top of the table, you seem to be the only one who notices the look Joanna sends you at the display of affection.

•••

More days pass by and everyday they get home later and later until you're left going to bed on your own.

You'd made it a habit to wait for each other if one was out late, but it didn't happen often since you had almost the same working hours and when you went out, it was usually altogether.

You'd tried to keep that habit after your injury, but they were coming home later everyday, and you weren't sure you had it in you to keep staying up for them.

Especially on nights like this one, where when they do get home, you're dismissed almost entirely.

The door opens and you sit up, ready to greet them one by one with a hug and kiss, but most of them just mumble a "hey" or "hi Y/N" and walk straight to their rooms.

Only Jungkook and Seokjin genuinely acknowledge you, Jungkook giving you a hug and a peck on the forehead accompanied by a soft "Hi baby." before going to his room as well.

Seokjin also hugs you, but he picks you up while doing so: shifting you in his arms so he can carry you to bed with him.

As he begins to walk, your eyes meet and he sends a soft smile your way.

You barely start to relax in his hold when you realize that he's walking into your room, and you slightly panic at the thought that he's going to leave you alone in there.

Your slight panic turns into franticness as he sets you down and steps away from the bed.

"No! Don't-" Jin whips around at the sound of your voice, and you feel immediate guilt when you see his startled expression.

"Sorry, I- I know you're tired. Sorry, you can go."

Your attempts to decrease his worry don't seem to work, because he's already making his way back towards your bed.

"No, no. What happened? Whats wrong?"

"Its nothing." Seokjin gives you a stern look, you both know that lying to him is impossible.

"It's not nothing. Is it your leg? Or is it something else?"

"Its stupid" you mumble.

Noticing that you're unsure of yourself, he sits closer to you and brushes you hair out of your face in attempts to comfort you.

"Its not stupid if its bothering you" you feel your tears welling up again at how soft Seokjin's voice is. How soft he is with you.

"I just- I don't think I can be alone right now." You lean into his touch as you finally get at least some of the truth off your chest.

"You don't have to be. I was going to shower, do you want to join me?"

"I don't want to bother you."

"You won't."

"But my leg, I won't be able to stand for long."

"It's okay, we'll bring a stool in and I'll help you."

"But you're tired-"

"Never of taking care of you."

Something in your heart settles through the rest of the night, there is no other intention behind Seokjin asking you to join him.

He washes your hair and even dries it once you're out, he helps you get dressed and he goes to sleep holding you, and even if it's just for one night; all is right in the world again.

The next morning, Jin wakes you up and asks you if you'd like to come to rehearsal with the 7 of them. You're elated, to say the least. You knew it was a minimum thing, but your heart couldn't help but flutter at the thought that they wanted you around.

•••

Jin on the other hand, is pissed. Not at you, (never at you), but at his 6 boyfriends and how absolutely dense they could be, this being one of those moments.

He'd mentioned that you were coming with them, and all of them responded well: "I hope she likes the choreo!" "Yay! I want to hear what she has to say."

Their response to you tagging along wasn't the problem, no.

It was their response when he tried to tell them about how you were feeling that pissed him off:

"Wait guys, before we leave, I need to talk to you about something real quick."

All of them were attentive towards him immediately, so he thought they'd receive this better.

"It's about Y/N. And partially Joanna."

"Okay?"

"I talked to Y/N last night and she seemed upset. She didn't really want to talk about it but I'm almost completely sure that she's feeling left out, and I think it may partially be because of Joanna."

All of them begin to speak at once, until Taehyung's voice cuts through everyone else's.

"Why do you think it has something to do with Joanna?"

The 6 boys settle down and stare expectantly at Jin.

"Have you guys not noticed how backhanded all of Joanna's comments are towards her? Even when Y/N isn't present, she always makes a joke at her expense. And not to mention, we've been spending a lot of time with Joanna, much more than we've been spending with Y/N. I know if I were her I would feel hurt; being injured and spending the whole day cooped up alone while my boyfriends are spending all their time with someone who treats me like dog shit."

Jin wasn't sure what he was expecting the boys' reactions to be, but it definitely wasn't the outraged faces they were all giving him.

Jungkook is the first one to respond:

"I mean, I noticed the comments but I thought they were all in good fun? You know, since Y/N and Joanna have been friends for such a long time."

Taehyung cuts in next:

"And if Y/N is feeling left out, I mean I understand but what does that have to do with Joanna?"

Almost as if on cue, there's noise coming from the kitchen, meaning that you're awake.

Jin quickly gets up to go to you, but not before leaving the 6 boys with one final word, "Just pay attention to how she speaks to Y/N, you'll see what I'm talking about."

•••

It's hard to describe – the knowledge that you're being left behind without any obvious evidence surrounding you.

It's not something that everyone outside of your point of view might see, but you can feel it cutting through you deeply.

Not being able to do what you love, and on top of that, not being able to spend time with the people you love, it's a shattering feeling that claws through your chest.

Which leaves you where you are now: in the car with the rest of the boys on your way to rehearsal.

You thought that maybe being back in the studio would relight the spark that made the 7 men drawn to you in the first place, but even the car ride there felt cold and almost uncomfortable.

•••

The atmosphere changes the moment you step foot in the studio. It feels lighter, somehow. You don't know how to feel, not with the voice in your head insinuating that this lightness is because of Joanna; the guys are more at ease with Joanna than they are with you.

You usually hate being wrong: but now, you wish you could say the voice in your head was being irrational, yet you can't. Not when you turn around and see everyone besides Seokjin and Yoongi - who are off conversing to the side - gathered around Joanna, happily talking to her.

When did they stop looking at you like that?

Finally, she takes notice of your presence and makes her way over to you.

"Y/N, girly! Hey! Are you here to learn?"

You don't respond, confused as to what she's trying to ask you.

"Ya'know? Learn from the best! We've been so productive with this number."

She responds like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you almost feel offended at what she's insinuating.

"Oh, um- I'm here to see what the guys have done."

Joanna blinks at you, as if your answer threw her off, before continuing.

"Oh. Ok then. Cool! And are the boys cool with that?"

You can tell, she wants this to sound passive aggressive. Kind on the surface, but a clear jab at your insecurities.

Jungkook quickly cuts in;

"Of course. Why wouldn't we be cool with that?"

Joanna stutters through her response, being caught off guard by Jungkook as she thought no one had heard her remark.

"Oh! I don't know, you might get distracted? You know?"

"We'll be fine."

This time it's Jin who answers, and even if it's a little selfish, you're glad that his tone towards Joanna is automatically cold.

"Okay thennnn!"

She turns to you:

"But if you start being a distraction I'll have to ask you to step out. Heh, step out. That's funny."

She giggles at her little joke (at your expense), and makes her way into the practice room.

Rehearsal continues as usual, and you feel a bit lighter as the boys all make jokes and include you while they stretch and warm up.

They start to run through the choreography, and your heart swells with pride seeing them dance; all their hard work really does pay off.

As much as you wish to get up and dance with them, or even get up at all, you know you can't. But just seeing them perform will do.

Once they finish, you start to clap and Jimin and Jungkook turn towards you with a playful vow.

"Its looking really good guys!"

All of the boys respond with a 'thank you' and a smile.

"I do have a couple pointers about some things I noticed-"

"Okay, let's run it again!" Before you could finish your sentence you're cut off by Joanna's squeaky voice.

Thankfully, Hoseok cares about what you have to say, and the rest seem to agree as well.

"Wait, I wanna hear what Y/N had to say."

"Yeah! It's felt weird learning a brand new number and not having any of your input on it."

"Y/N, go on." Seokjin is the one who speaks last, and the look in his eyes tell you that things will be alright.

"Ok, so first thing make sure you guys are agreeing on your directions, make sure that it's either a complete diagonal or if its a slanted move so you all move the same direction-"

"Oh yeah, I explained that to them already, they know." You're once again cut off by Joanna.

You use this as a chance to tease the boys, as you always normally.

"Oh, then why are y'all making that mistake huh?" Your tone is playful, and you see Hoseok step towards you with all the intent of playing along, when a gasp coming from your right stops you both.

"Did you come in here just to criticize?"

Of course it's Joanna.

"Wha- no. I was just teasing them. The dance looks grea-"

"I told you you were gonna distract them, and what did I say I was gonna do if you got them unfocused?"

"I didn't mean to, I was just giving pointers-"

"I've been teaching them for the last few weeks, I know what they need to focus on right now."

"But I know that it can look cleaner than it did right now."

"Well this is my choreography! I know what's best! You don't get to come in here and just start shitting on my work because what? You're jealous?! You think you're better than everyone else?!"

You're taken aback when Joanna starts to scream at you, so much so that you try to step back, completely forgetting that one of your feet is injured.

As you place your foot down, a soaring pain strikes from your foot all the way to your thigh. A sob escapes you and that's when Jin's protective nature kicks in full force.

In the blink of an eye, he's crouching next to you and picking you up while everyone else in the rooms stands frozen in place.

The ice is shattered when a wail comes from somewhere else in the room: it's Joanna.

Everyone's head whips to her direction, but for very different reasons.

Jin, for one, is beyond disbelief that she'd go as low as fake crying to get the attention back on her.

The rest of the guys seemed concerned, but not because of her. Rather because they just saw her true colors, how Jin was right, how they'd neglected you.

Seokjin picks you up and rushes out the door, leaving everyone else in the room frozen.

•••

You don't really process anything that happens afterwards. You just know Seokjin is with you as you go to the doctor to get your foot checked out, and that's enough to push you into a state where you know you can space out.

You couldn't comprehend it, how you were hurt and the rest of them weren't there.

Did they even care you were hurt?

It didn't make sense, that you were asking yourself this. When had things gotten this bad? How could they have let thing get this bad? It left you aching more than your injury, and you think that shouldn't even be possible.

When you get home, you find all the boys kitchen, a mess everywhere -much to Jin's despair- attempting to decorate what you assume is a cake. They're all focused to the point where they didn't hear you come in, and if they did, they're really good at acting like they didn't. You want to hide in your room, maybe ask Jin to hide with you, play into their ignorance, but the petty part in you is much quicker.

"Joanna doesn't like cake."

You speak without thinking about it first, and it's clear that none of them were expecting a comment like that, not even Jin, because their heads whip around instantly to you.

You panic for a little, thinking they'll get mad, but Hoseok and Yoongi start laughing at Namjoon's terrified face, at the maknae line looking like they're deer in headlights, and at Jin's round eyes.

Before you know it, They're all running up to you, and Seokjin has to grab you by the waist to make sure they don't knock you over.

They all speak at once, and you can only make out some things like "are you okay? what did the doctor say? im sorry." What cuts through all the rambling is Namjoon's smooth voice, sounding a bit exasperated as he speaks: "The cake is for you Y/N. We were making the cake for you."

Oh.

"Joon! You ruined the surprise!" Jimin stomps his feet, but you know he's not actually upset.

"Well we couldn't just let her think that we were baking a cake for fuckin Joanna!" Namjoon defends himself.

Yoongi steps in front of the two and turns to you, "It was supposed to be a 'Surprise / I'm sorry / We love you / Get well soon' cake but you got here before we finished."

His genuinely dejected demeanor makes you giggle, he looks like a sad cat.

"It's okay-"

"No it's not. Cake or not, we're all really sorry- hold on, we should sit down for this." Jungkook grabs your hand and leads you to the couch, the rest following suit.

You all sit in silence for a second before Hoseok speaks up:

"Well I guess I'll start." He sits up a little straighter so he's facing you directly, and you feel nerves run through you: was he upset? Was he going to scold you?

The guys seem to notice how you tense up, because Hoseok's face falls a into a small frown, while Jungkook scoots closer to you and Jin places a hand on your thigh.

"Y/N, I am so so sorry for the way we've been acting, and the way we haven't been acting. You got hurt under our watch, we should be the ones taking care of you, no questions asked, and we've failed to do that. There's really no excuse for how inattentive we've been. In our heads, or at least my head, I didn't really see you all day, so I thought that everything was okay because I still got to wake up to you, I still got to come home and feel comfortable knowing that you were here: we had your company. But I failed to return that company, we all failed to give you the bare minimum, and I truly am so sorry."

For the time you've know Hoseok, you've only seen him cry once or twice, so when you see tears start to fall from his eyes, it shakes you up and down. Before you can go console him, Jimin speaks up from where he sits beside Hoseok.

"Hobi's right, Y/N. We didn't pay you enough attention. We were too worried about ourselves to consider how our actions looked to you. The whole thing with Joanna, we did spend a lot of time with her, but even then, all we did was talk about you. Not in a bad way, obviously, but you just always came up in conversation. I don't know why I thought that talking about you would translate as 'we're still giving you our attention' as if you could read our thoughts or something. But again, we were selfish and careless, and I can't apologize enough for how we acted."

You appreciate Jimin's attempt at lightening up the mood, and you appreciate his words overall.

The next hour goes by in the same manner. The boys apologize one by one, not to just you, but to Seokjin as well, and before you know it, there's no one in the room that isn't crying, all of you a teary and snotty mess.

"We love you so much, Y/N. Please let us make it up to you. I love you so much." Yoongi's the last one to speak, and he finishes while walking up to you and bowing at your feet.

The rest of the guys join him, even Seokjin, and you don't know what else to do except throw yourself on the floor with all of them and cry.

The night ends with all of you cuddled up on the floor, until Namjoon and Jin make you all get up so you could go lay down properly.

They guys don't let you walk, no, Jungkook carries you while Taehyung and Jimin squish at his side in an attempt to stay close to you.

You all manage to squeeze into a single bed with you in the middle, hands everywhere trying to keep you close.

You feel warmer than you have in weeks, and meanwhile the guys do have a lot to make up for, with arms wrapped around you and sweet nothings floating in the room, you think this is a great start.

[kanmom51]

A couple of words

So...

JK is with JM.

We all know that.

It's a fact, no matter what those that have their panties in a knot say, or more so, what they would want.

These assholes (you know who I'm talking about) can argue about it all they want. They can squirm and twist and scream and pray, but at the end of the day facts are facts.

JK and JM chose to enlist TOGETHER, through a process that has them TOGETHER, in the same unit, in the same base. Not same duties within the unit (the military utilizing their individual strengths), but all the same, at the end of the day they are TOGETHER.

It makes me laugh how there are those that still argue they aren't placed together, and then there are those that have obviously come to terms with the two being together in one unit (well not really, but have no arguments left as they keep being proven wrong), that now they have shifted their argument to the two not sharing same bed or quarters.

Like, haven't they had enough already? It's just so exhausting.

This incessant need to disprove what these two mean to each other. They are both in the military serving their country. A military that deems sex between two men (while on base, as limited by the supreme court) to be an offense punishable by incrassation. Are there queer men in the army? There most certainly are. Are there men sharing quarters and/or beds in the military? There sure are. JM and JK being in the military and as such being assigned to quarters by their superiors... would them sharing quarters or a bed add or take from what they are and mean to each other? It's stupid to think it would. Serving together is their choice. Being able to share quarter or a bed, well, that would not be entirely up to them, even if that would be a choice they would want to make.

I hope I am explaining this properly.

Bottom line is, they might be sharing quarters and even a bed, but even if they aren't, it doesn't take from what they are to each other or mean to each other, and it most likely wouldn't be by their own design.

What more do you want? Really? Would a selfie from their bed do it for you? Perhaps a shirtless one? Maybe a kissy kissy selfie? Not gonna happen. Not to prove a point for you, in any case. Oh, and btw, we did get many selfies from them in the past.

Same bed, shirtless, very suggestive ones as well. Didn't convince you then, and I am sure it won't convince you now either. You will always have a stupid excuse or explanation why it's not what it is. Just like you do now...

Seriously, the depth of denial at this point is past annoying. Because, no matter what you think about the state of their relationship (and by now you all know my take on the two of them, partners in long term relationship of course, but there are still those having a hard time to commit to it), you have to be an outright idiot not to see or understand and internalize that these two are together at this moment by choice (as no other member of the group and with no other member of the group). They have told us and shown us time and time again what they mean to each other, and this here is them telling us oud and clear that they couldn't go through these 18 months of military service apart from each other.

And yesterday it seems like JK had some time off from his very busy and laborious duties. Or, he chose to spend his couple of hours of rest between meals to go online and for us to know he was online. He actually seemed to have spent quite a bit of time on TikTok following a few more accounts and liking some clips.

He liked some Hobi clips (for his upcoming documentary and album), liked a couple of Fri(end)s' clips and he also liked JM's #thisisJimin dance clip for Closer than this.

JK chose to not only like it, but to comment on the clip as well:

An explanation perhaps? You know, for not liking this earlier, as he did JM's previous #ThisisJimin clips? And understandably so, given the clip was released 21 December 2023, seeing that they were both doing their basic training at the time.

And maybe this is a coincidence... maybe it isn't (you know what my feelings are about those Jikook coincidences), but this happening on 24 March 2024, exactly 1 year from the release of Face.

Idk man...

I gotta remember this is JK we are talking about here.

Same day as this was happening too.

Not saying a damn thing here...

Or am I?

[dragon-susceptible]

Lissa

I'm having some thinky thoughts about Lissa, Viren's ex-wife, Soren and Claudia's mom.

So from the way Claudia talks about her in season 2, she and Viren fought a lot, it wasn't a good environment for kids, and then she and Viren pressured their kids (each no more than 5) to decide which parent to stay with. I'm a little suspicious of the details here because how are you remembering that much at 3 years old, Claudia, and why would any adult expect you to make that kind of decision when you're still learning how to make sentences? Anyways my suspicions on the details aside, the major events of them fighting and Lissa leaving are backed up in Viren's story in Arc 2.

Here's the thing. I trust Viren's account more not because I trust him all that much more, but because he didn't actually let anyone see it. I think he was genuinely being vulnerable, being weak, and that's why he couldn't let Soren actually see it in the end.

So in Viren's account, he and Lissa weren't fighting all the time. It was something that developed in their desperation to help Soren, who was suffering with his breathing illness. Ultimately, it explodes into Viren physically assaulting Lissa for her tears to work the spell to fix Soren's lungs, which he frames as saving him. Lissa left him very quickly after that.

So here's the thing. We don't know enough about Lissa to really judge her. I could see how this might be a case of an immigrant woman who found herself swept away by this charming Katolian aristocrat, who maybe had a temper but he wasn't violent with people, generally, and genuinely loved him and built a family with him. Then one day he snaps, and she finds out he can be violent with people too, actually, even with her, and she's terrified and horrified, but - but he did it to save their son. She can't stand staying with a man who would hurt her like that, but if he's willing to attack her for Soren, surely he'll be willing to do anything to protect their children. They'll be safe with him, they'll be well-off with him. So when Soren clings to him she lets them stay, but has to leave for her own safety no matter how much that hurts, and because she has to cut Viren out so much, she never realizes how badly this backlashes on the kids.

Or she could have resented Viren, resented their relationship because how dare fate hand her the suffering of her firstborn, and then her husband turning abusive on top of it, maybe she was glad to be rid of all of them when she left

Hell maybe it was all an excuse and she's just a transient asshole who was looking for a reason to leave, and Viren just gave her one on a silver platter when he assaulted her

Maybe she was a genuinely loving wife and mother right up until it came to the issue of dark magic, and she hated Viren for using it on Soren and believed Soren to be "tainted" with it and that's why she didn't fight for them. Or maybe it was only an issue because Viren targeted her for the materials for dark magic, and it's not about the magic but every time she looks at Soren now she sees his father's cold face while he hurt her.

There's so many ways she could be a fucked up individual, and some of them she's not even the asshole. Maybe she genuinely thought the kids would be better off with Viren and she just had to stay safe, and that it would be better for them if she just disappeared instead of making them deal with the complications of parents who won't see each other. They were so young when she left, I can follow the reasoning. I think she's wrong, but I can understand it. Or she could be a bitch for any number of reasons.

Both of the kids seem to remember her with some level of resentment, but Claudia was so young she's likely pulling mostly from Viren's feelings about her. Soren talks as if he resents her but he keeps a portrait of her tucked into his armor, so he must have some . . . Curiosity, at least, or hope. It's just really interesting to think about.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Forget the horror here.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Words count: 1445

Rating: Mature (but there’s only allusions to smut this time)

Warnings/Tags: Javi’s POV for Poison and Wine, Internal conflict, sad thoughts, mention of Javi’s work, sweet Javi, bad at feeling Javi, love bites my friends, sad ending.

A/N: Poison and Wine can be found here, I promised a second part from Javi’s pov and here we are. I hope you’ll like this.

Titles comes from one of the most beautiful gut wrenching song I’ve ever listen, Spanish Sahara by Foals.

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

You are the easiest thing I deal with during the day. A relief, a safe haven to return to.

When I approached you for the first time I did it almost without thinking.

It had been a terrible day, I had lost half of my men in an ambush and that piece of shit had managed to escape again. The drug lord, may the devil take him.

I had entered the bar with an unbearable weight on my shoulders. I should be used to it but I'm afraid I never will. How could I get used to seeing death and destruction all around all day.  

You were at the counter, you were wearing a dress that slid down your hips in an absolutely crazy way, you were breathtaking.

You were laughing, talking to the bartender.

I had nothing to lose, I ordered a tequila and spoke to you.

We chatted for a while, you seemed so spontaneous, confident, funny.

And you were beautiful, you have eyes that could stop time.

I felt almost clumsy in front of you.

Like a young boy.

A really weird feeling for someone like me, I usually just take what I want.

I've paid for sex several times, I'm certainly not a saint.

I'm not even a total asshole, so I tried to treat you with respect.

I'm sure you knew exactly what I was looking for so I didn't look for excuses, it would have seemed to me to offend your intelligence.

You are a smart, proud, free and independent woman. Fierce and incredibly charming. You smell like sugar and taste like heaven.

I figured it all out that night and it hit me hard.  

That's how it started.

I was convinced that it could be a loophole, a distraction.

 I ask you to see me to shake off the images of devastation that I have to face every day.

It's easy not to think of anything else being with you.

A glance is enough for you to understand what I need.

I would never tell you about my job, I can't and in any case it wouldn't be fair.

That's not what I want to do with you.

I don't want to talk.

I don't want to analyze anything.

I just want to let go and forget the rest.

There’s too much pressure on me and I feel liberated with you.

I always try to be cautious and watch my back for my own safety but most of all because I would never want to put you in danger. You have always lived here so you know well what the situation is like in your country. You are certainly not clueless and you have your own problems to take care of, you don't need mine.

I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.

I leave you in the dark about this but I hope you have understood it.

You did, right?

 Sometimes I think you're too much for me, I don't deserve you.

 You are disarming.

 The way you melt under my hands drives me nuts.

The way we have sex is amazing, every time.

 When I’m with you, I feel like I finally find peace.

Your skin is soft and warm, your neck so delicate, your lips turgid and delicious, your breasts beautifully designed to fill my hands, your legs toned and sensual, your sex wet and sweet under my tongue. 

And your eyes.

 Your eyes are so intense, deep, every time I stare at them I feel a fire burning inside.

I noticed how they try to discover me, to understand something more about me, some secret that I try to hide from myself too.

Every damn time I sink into you I feel like I've been pardoned by God or whoever for him.

 I don't know how else to describe it.

 We are in a shabby motel and you radiate beauty around even in a place like this.

 I fucked you right away, without a word, it was one of the usual horrible days and I wanted to leave it completely behind.

I know I'm not an easy man.

My bad temper gives some problems even at work sometimes.

 I wish I could be more serene, have a more stable life, be able to offer something more than sex.

 I wish I could take you to dinner in a nice restaurant, give you flowers, make you feel like I care.

I would like to take your hands and tell you that you are the best thing that has happened to me in years. 

I would like to tell you how much you are helping me. 

I don't even know how I can think of certain things when the situation makes them impossible.

I became a sentimental fool.

 Sometimes I feel like you want to ask for more and every time I hope you don’t.

I can't, you know I can't.

Should I put up with seeing the same look on Connie's face as she watches Steve leave without knowing if he'll return?

Yes, I am a coward when it comes to this, my courage is all absorbed in work, even though I often feel like it's all for nothing.

I run from one side of the city to the other in an attempt to achieve something, to at least partially solve the chaos, the fear, the guerrillas. 

Every small victory pales into insignificance in the face of another death.

This place has a lot of hidden secrets, I can't imagine them all.

If I succeed in eliminating a small part of its evil, I know that there is still so much that it wouldn't take two lives to defeat it completely.

I feel like I will never be able to hold anything in my hands, like I will never get close to the end.

 I only feel some kind of comfort when I'm inside you.

I've been with a lot of women but none has ever made me feel like you do.

I can't tell you that.

I can't risk it all.

I can't let you walk into my life any more than I already have.

What if I let myself be totally vulnerable? What if you lost me? What if I lost you?

I closed my eyes to make you think I was sleeping.

You were watching me, I could feel your eyes on me.

 You looked away so I wouldn’t notice, but I know.

Damn it.

Please don't do that.

It crushes me.

I'm quickly getting attached to you and I feel it's the same for you.

I have to back off.

 I have to be able to leave you out of all the crap that grips me.

From the horror that haunts me.

Your eyes are fixed on a point on the wall, seemingly careless. 

I still feel your warmth, the taste of your skin, the sweetness of your body, your moans of pleasure.

You have a power over me that makes me restless, hungry, eager.

I reach out to stroke your arm and you give me a smile that hurts my soul.

God, you are so beautiful.

 I would like to start all over again.

I would like to grab your waist with my arm and draw you back to me.

I can't get enough. 

Every time I touch you, every time I kiss you, every time I hear your tongue dancing with mine, every time I bite your neck and feel your smile on my skin, every time I smell your fresh and flowery scent, every time I sense you tremble with pleasure, every time I hear you scream my name I hope it never ends.

I get up without saying anything.

It's time for me to leave.

I take my clothes from the chair, while I hate myself.

My fucking stubbornness, my fear of getting close to anyone for fear of hurting them, my obstinacy in living a lonely life.

I hate all this.

I have to live with it but it hurts like fucking hell.

I get dressed feeling like a bastard.

I just wish everything was different, easier, I wish I could have you every day.

I’m the fury in your bed.

One day I'll just be a ghost in the back of your head.

Tagging @aurorawritestoescape and @thundermartini that were both so kind and encouraging and enjoyed the first part of it ♥️

Thank you so much 🥰