#mon scribbles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

golden-cherry · 10 months

Text

deal - cl16 (8/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It's always nice meeting new people. Especially British ones.

Warnings: fluff, flirting, one swear word, social media aspect

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: this chapter is for everyone who send me kind words when I was feeling down. even tho I don't answer every single message, I read everything you send me. I love you.

You look desperately at the piece of paper in your hand.

You have the chicken breast, the avocado and the kale and garlic. According to the signs in the shop, two aisles down are the jars of sun-dried tomatoes that you also need. But where the heck are the sesame seeds and chilli flakes?

You rub your forehead with the back of your hand.

For twenty minutes you have been walking through the supermarket, which is so much bigger than the one around the corner from you. Ten minutes ago you put the chicken in the shopping basket, which is hanging down on your elbow. And since then you have been wandering the aisles with little success, trying to find the rest that Charles scribbled on the piece of paper.

When you left the bedroom this morning, your roommate had already disappeared. He had stowed his sleeping things in the wardrobe and tidied up the living room. Even the dishes had disappeared from the sink. Apparently he got up very early.

After drinking a glass of orange juice, you found the note on the kitchen table that Charles had left there.

"Bonjour,

Je suis à la salle de sport ce matin. I'm at the gym this morning.

Pourriez-vous acheter ces choses pour le déjeuner ? Could you please buy these things for lunch?

Merci, mon ami.

Charles

PS.: Mes amis et moi sortons ce soir et j'aimerais que tu viennes avec moi. My friends and I are going out tonight and I would like you to come along".

Next to it was another piece of paper with the shopping list for the bowl his nutritionist had picked out for him. Judging by the ingredients, Charles has good taste and for a moment you had considered buying a double portion - one for him and one for you - but the toast lying in your kitchen is about to go bad and you are reluctant to throw it away. Besides, no food in the world can beat a good sandwich.

But reading the list, you also realise that the small supermarket around the corner would not be enough to get everything.

The employee you asked a few minutes ago gave you a rough direction where you could find the sesame seeds, but he disappeared so quickly that you couldn't follow up. And since then you've been standing in a corridor that looks like you might find them here. But you've read through every label on every shelf, and although your French has improved - and you have a translator app on your phone - none of them sounded remotely like sesame or seeds.

"A pretty lady wasn't on my shopping list today, but I can be spontaneous," you hear someone with a British accent say behind you.

As you turn around, a young man is standing in front of you. He is a little taller than you and wears a black hoodie with his hands in his pockets and a black cap on his head. Although it is winter, his skin is tanned, and as he grins broadly, you see a small gap between his white front teeth.

You hesitate for a moment, trying to gauge whether he is really serious, and glance briefly at your shopping list before turning to face him fully. "An overeager man is not on mine either. And unfortunately, since I have to stick to my budget, I can't be quite as spontaneous."

His grin widens even more. "So the pick-up line was that lousy?"

His smile is so honest and friendly it's infectious. "Terrible."

The young man presses his tongue into his cheek before pulling his hand out of his jumper pocket to hold it out to you. "Lando. Nice to meet you."

As you place your hand in his, you feel the warmth of his skin. "Y/N."

Before you can respond, Lando snatches the piece of paper in your hand. His eyes flicker over the ingredients on it and then over the contents of your shopping basket. "You've been standing here for ten minutes. Do you need any help?"

You narrow your eyes and try to reach for the list in his big hands, but he is quicker. He pulls his hand away. "Have you been watching me? See if the note says stalker."

He pretends to go through the ingredients again, but his gaze lingers on you again after a few moments. "Stalker it doesn't say, but helpful stranger it does." He holds the note up to your nose. "Right under chicken breast. See. Right there. In invisible ink."

You push your lower lip forward and consider whether you should accept his help. The only thing against it is the fact that you can usually help yourself. But since he has already noticed how helplessly you search for the missing groceries, the argument is not exactly convincing.

"Alright." You extend your arm and wave it in a semicircle in front of you. "Show me the way."

Lando leads the way as you follow him through the shop. Despite his jumper, you can see that his cross is relatively wide. Not as wide as Charles, but still enough to be noticeable.

"You don't seem to be from around here, do you?" asks Lando as you walk past the cheese shelf. He looks down at you.

"I've actually lived here for months, but I've never been to this supermarket," you admit, shrugging. "The stuff on the list isn't for me, it's for my roommate. I'm not much of a bowl fan."

The helpful stranger stops abruptly in front of a shelf, causing you to bump lightly into him. You can still feel the hard muscles through the many layers of clothing. "What are you more into?" When you look at him with a raised eyebrow, he rolls his eyes. "Food-wise, I mean."

"Culinarily, I'm afraid I've stayed at McDonalds level. Or frozen pizza." As Lando grins, you lightly punch his arm. "I know, I know. Like a kid."

He reaches out and takes a packet from the shelf, and as he puts it in the basket, you see that it's sesame seeds. He then takes the basket from your hand. "So I don't need to take you to a super fancy, expensive restaurant? You'd be happy with take-out as well?" He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

Apparently he can't help it. But you find his boyish charm not annoying, rather amusing.

You raise your hand and poke your index finger against his chest. "You could buy me a can of soup, too, and I'd be blown away."

Lando is too surprised to retort, so he lowers his eyes to the list in his hand. You can still see the blush that comes to his face. He clears his throat. "Chilli flakes should be here somewhere too. Ah, there. Right behind you." He leans forward a little and reaches past you. As you inhale, you can smell his perfume.

"Thanks for your help, Lando," you say as you stand together at the checkout a little later, putting your purchase into a bag. "I don't know what I would have done without you." Your smile is genuine and you're glad he returns it. If it hadn't been for him, you'd almost certainly still be standing here tomorrow looking for the ingredients.

"I'm glad I could help." As you take your groceries from him, he shoulders the bag and shakes his head. "Would it be weird if I asked you if I could walk you home?"

"It would." You've both known each other for a few minutes and for sure it's unwise for a young stranger to find out where you live. Yet something about him makes you trust him. As Lando's mouth curls into a thin line, you smile kindly at him. "But weird is okay."

His expression brightens instantly. "Great. Show me the way. I'll follow you."

The walk home takes thirty minutes, but it feels much shorter with Lando by your side. He's two years older than you and incredibly funny, which is why your stomach starts to hurt from laughing at some point. He talks about what it was like growing up in England and that although he has his permanent home here in Monaco, he still works there.

"So you're always flying back and forth? Isn't that very tiring?" you ask him. The house where your home is located comes into your field of vision. In a moment you are about to say goodbye and somehow you have a feeling that he would make an attempt to ask for your number.

"It's very exhausting," he confesses, but shrugs. "But you know yourself what it's like to live here. Monaco is beautiful and I love it. Besides, many of my friends live here. It's definitely worth the stress for me."

You stop at the front door and Lando's smile disappears from his face as he realises that your time - for now - is up. He hands you your groceries, which he's been carrying for you like a gentleman for the last half hour.

"Thank you. For your help and the nice company," you thank him and fish the front door key out of your pocket.

Lando puts his hands back in the pockets of his jumper, undecided whether to hug you goodbye or not. "I have to thank you." He pulls his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. "Can I see you again? Maybe for dinner? I'll get your favourite can of soup too," he grins and you have to laugh out loud.

"I'd love to," you reply. Why green eyes and dimples suddenly flash in the back of your mind, you don't know.

"Great. Do you have Instagram?" he asks and you look at him, confused. He raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck nervously with it. "I'd ask for your number, but I don't think you're someone who gives out their number to helpful strangers just because they're friendly."

You turn your head and point to the front door. "Well, you already know where I live, after all. And yet you ask for my Instagram?"

He licks his lips once with his tongue. "I didn't mean to be too forward."

You look down at your shopping bag, then back up at him. "You? Forward? No way."

You tell him your Instagram name and he saves it before you say goodbye with a hug that, in retrospect, you might find a little too brief. But Lando doesn't seem to want to cross any lines, which is why he only puts one arm around you to pull you close for a moment, not pressing you tightly against him but leaving some space between you.

"I'll get back to you," he says as you put the key in the door lock and turn it. "Promise."

When you enter the apartment minutes later, Charles is sitting on the couch, staring at his laptop, which is on the coffee table in front of him. You feel his gaze on you as you close the door behind you and slip off your shoes.

"Bonjour, Y/N." He gets up and follows you into the kitchen, where you take the groceries out of the bag and place them on the countertop. "Thank you for shopping. Did you sleep well?"

You did indeed. Whether it was the wine or the fact that you really enjoyed your evening with him, you don't know. When you woke up this morning and found that Charles had already left, you had been a little too relieved. The thoughts you harboured towards him last night make you feel guilty, so you decide to repress them and forget about them.

Everything that happened last night was purely amicable, which his "mon ami" on the note also confirms. Secretly, you are glad that he sees it that way too. If he were to give you signs of being interested, you would have to think seriously about the whole situation. And you don't want that.

You're happy living with Charles. And even though you've only known each other for two days, you're sure he's a better friend than anyone else has ever been. No one in your old group of friends had ever been so friendly, so helpful, so caring.

If that's how friends behave, then you never really had any.

"Well," you answer him. "I'm still alive, although I didn't lock the door yesterday. That certainly lets me sleep well."

Charles smiles and reaches for the chicken breast, which he rinses and seasons as you put a pan of oil on the hob. "Or maybe I just want you to feel safe. And someday, when you're not expecting it, I'll catch you," he jokes.

"And that's exactly why I was serious about my offer last night," you return, watching as he puts the chicken into the hot oil. You hear it hiss and bubble. "That you can sleep in bed tonight. I don't mind. After all, it's your bed. And it's only fair that you use it."

Charles turns the chicken in the pan and looks at you. "And you're not just doing this so I won't murder you while you sleep?" His grin widens.

"That, my friend, is a nice side effect."

While the chicken sizzles away, you prepare the avocado and Charles the kale. "It's all right, Y/N. It's only been the second night on the couch. And I promise you nothing will happen that would make you lock the door."

"But last night you -"

"Last night the wine was talking out of me when I sent you the picture," he interrupts. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." His smile is gentle. "That's what we agreed and that's what we'll stick to."

"That we agreed, I know," you confirm, digging a bowl out of the cupboard. Charles fills it with the ingredients and finally puts the roasted chicken on top. You turn off the hob. "But I don't think we have to stick rigidly to that rule for this," you point to the space between you, "to work. We're friends, not strangers. And as your friend, I can't have you breaking your back."

You see Charles swallow before turning away and picking up the bowl. Apparently he doesn't know what to say in response, because he changes the subject as you sit down on the couch together. "So, are you coming tonight? We were going out for dinner and then to a club. You don't have to come if you don't want to, of course, but I'd love to introduce you to my friends. We're a cool group and I think you'd fit in quite well." He spears a piece of avocado with his fork. "Besides, maybe I can take your mind off your asshole of an ex-boyfriend that way."

That's right. There was something.

You haven't had to think about him since last night. About him calling you all the time and spoiling your mood. That he cheated on you a while back and broke your heart.

Charles managed, with just a film and his company, to make you forget the pain and anger. In his presence you felt comfortable, warm, which was perhaps also a little due to the wine. And as you thought back over the evening, a feeling spread through you that you could not describe.

The only word you can think of to describe this feeling is Charles.

"I didn't mean to remind you," your roommate says softly when you don't answer him. His eyes are fixed on his food. "Sorry."

You shake your head, more to let him know that your thoughts are not about your ex-boyfriend, but about Charles's kindness and care, but apparently he takes it as accepting the apology. He exhales in relief.

"So? Are you coming with me later? With my friends and me?", Charles asks again.

Isn't it too early to meet his friends? You two haven't known each other for very long either. But after all, you would be there as his roommate slash friend, not as his girlfriend. So for him, there's no reason why you shouldn't be there. So there is none for you either.

"Do I need to wear anything nice? My wardrobe isn't exactly the most elegant," you confess, pointing to the oversized jumper hanging from your shoulders and the black leggings down your legs.

Charles' gaze moves from your face, across your torso, down further to the tops of your feet, which are inches away from his. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You look beautiful in anything."

You hope he doesn't notice how hard you have to swallow the lump in your throat. "Then I'll come with you."

Satisfied, Charles puts a piece of chicken in his mouth and chews on it. As his cell phone vibrates on the table in front of you, he stiffens a little.

From your position you can see that an unknown number is calling him. And you can well understand his reaction to it. You definitely wouldn't answer a call either if you didn't know who it was from. A short time later the phone is silent again and the screen goes black again. Charles visibly relaxes.

"I think calls from unknown numbers are totally nerve-wracking," you try to lighten the situation a little. "There was a time when I let the phone keep ringing, but now I just press unknown callers away."

Charles looks to you. "Would you press my call away?"

You draw your eyebrows together. "Well, since I don't have your number, I probably would."

Your roommate presses his tongue into his cheek. "Then it would be better if I gave it to you, no?"

Without a word, you hand him your unlocked phone - which looks really puny in his big hands - so he can punch in his number before calling himself. As he hands it back to you, he picks up his own phone to put your number in, deleting the unknown call.

"Give me your Instagram, please."

You look at him uncertainly, but give him your name. "Do you need anything else? My credit card number? Birth certificate? National insurance number?"

"No, you dickhead." He taps away on his phone and a moment later a notification pops up on your screen.

bawsixteen started following you

You open the app and click on his account and on the "Follow" button and a few moments later his entire profile is visible to you. He hasn't posted many pictures, some you recognise from Jori's place, but one in particular catches your eye.

"So, tonight we're going out for dinner. Around eight, so we have to leave around around quarter to." Charles puts the empty bowl on the table and turns to you. "I have to leave in a few minutes. Will you be okay on your own until then? I don't think I'll be gone too long."

You wonder if he's going to the woman he spoke to on the phone yesterday. "I'm an adult, Charles. I'll be fine," you smile. "Maybe by then I'll find a nice potato sack to wear later."

Charles laughs, gets up and goes into the kitchen to wash the bowl. "If you can find a second one that might fit me, bring it along. Then we could go in matching clothes. That would be something." You hear him turn on the tap at the sink. "Well, if you find one, you can call me."

"As long as you promise to answer." You turn and lean your arm over the back of the couch to watch him. His back muscles stand out under his shirt and you can see them moving.

Charles looks over his shoulder at you and smiles. "Deal."

liked by joris_trouche and others

bawsixteen: 📍📸 the most beautiful place in Monaco

next part

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc prompt #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc headcanon #charles leclerc instagram au #carlos sainz #lando norris

1K notes · View notes

runawaymac · 2 days

Text

wow what an oc

#transformers #maccadam #mon scribbles #transformers oc #oc: bogy #me and my not thought out poses

62 notes · View notes

twisted-wonderland-shenanigans · 10 months

Text

Twisted Monsterland: Messy Toddlers

Little kids can always cause a mess, whether it’s with paint, markers, food, or dirt and mud. It’s a fact of life, and while a hassle to clean up, it can be fun!

So what happens when you have a tiny human living amongst the monsters in Twisted Wonderland who tends to get messy? How about we take a look at some of the dorms and see!

//At Savanaclaw//

Mini!Yuu: *playing in a mud puddle, singing random things as they smoosh and stir the mud with their hands*

Grim: “What’cha doin’, Yuu?”

Mini!Yuu: “Makin’ mud pies for everyone!” *pulls out clumps of grass before sprinkling it over the mud pile* “Time to add the sprinkles~!”

Grim: “What a waste of perfectly good grass…”

Ruggie: *walking up to the two* “There you are, Bugaboo. What’cha playing with this time?”

Mini!Yuu: “I made a mud pie!” *scoops up the pile, globs falling onto their clothing as they hold it up to him* “Try some!”

Ruggie: “Oooh, looks pretty tasty.” *pretends to get a piece and chews, grinning as he gives a thumbs up*”"Mmm…perfect blend of flavors, though you might wanna ease up on the seasoning. Shishishishi~!”

Mini!Yuu: “Hooray!”

Ruggie: “Wouldja look at the time? It’s almost time for you to head back to the teachers, and you’re a mess.” *hoists them into his arms* “Come on, it’s bath time.”

//At Diasomnia//

Mini!Yuu: *playing with finger paints on a canvas*

Lilia: “I’ll be right back, little one. Silver? Would you keep an eye on the little one while I’m gone?”

Silver: “Of course, father.”

*ten minutes later*

Lilia: “I’m back.” *pauses before snorting, smiling at the sight of Silver asleep on the couch with paint on his face and tusks* “My, my. Had I known you needed a bigger canvas, I could have gotten a white tarp for the floor.” *glances over at Malleus before bursting out laughing* “Oh! It looks like you two are having fun.”

Malleus: *sitting nearby with mini!Yuu standing on his lap, painting his horns with bright colorful flowers* “The Child of Man wished to do face painting.”

Mini!Yuu: *has paint on their face that looks like scales and sticky fake stones on their forehead like Malleus’* “I’m making Mr. Horns feel pretty!”

Lilia: “So you are, little one. And what are you supposed to be?”

Mini!Yuu: “Silver made me look like a dragon, just like Mr. Horns! Rawr!”

Lilia: “And a mighty little dragon you are~!”

//At Pomefiore//

Mini!Yuu: *scribbling on a wall in the hallway with a pen they found, singing a happy song as they’re drawing swirls*

Epel: *comes across Yuu and yelps* “Yuu, no! What are you doing?!”

Mini!Yuu: *startled* “Drawing?”

Epel: “Oh no…oh no, Vil is going to throw a fit if he sees this!”

Vil: “If I see…what?”

Epel: “Ack!?”

Rook: “Ooh, it looks like mon chou is showing their creative spirit!”

Mini!Yuu: *nervously looks between the wall and Vil’s stern stare* “Am…I in trouble?”

Vil: *hums for a moment before kneeling down, pulling out his own pen* “Your form is good, though perhaps we can add a little something to this one.”

Mini!Yuu: “What?”

Vil: “I’m thinking…leaves would be a good start.” *begins drawing, creating beautiful shapes following the swirl that get bigger and bigger* “What else should we add to it?”

Mini!Yuu: “Mmm…flowers!”

Vil: “Very well. Will you help me draw them?”

Epel: *staring wide eyed between them and Rook as the two continue drawing, leaning in to whisper to Rook* “Am…am I dreaming? Vil would have gone bonkers if any of us ruined the walls!”

Rook: “Ah, but why stifle the creativity of our little mon chu when they are clearly expressing their individuality? Even Roi du Poison sees the beauty in this.” *goes to kneel next to them, pulling out his own pen* “May I join in?”

Epel: “…huh.”

(Later, the art is still on the wall, a mix of child-like drawings mixed with elegant and fun pictures depicting rabbits, apples, and a peacock)

//At Heartslabyul//

Mini!Yuu: *sitting on a stool, watching Trey mixing dough into balls for bread and trying to mimic him with their own ball of dough*

Trey: “Oh, I need to get the butter out of the fridge. Sit tight, okay?” *dusts hands off and goes over to the fridge*

Mini!Yuu: *hums as they look at the one they’re working on* “Mmm…needs more flour!” *reaches for the bag of flour, trying to lift it up*

POMF!!

Mini!Yuu: *coughs as they’re covered in flour, the bag on the ground and the counter coated in flour*

Trey: “Huh?? Pfft…I should have known something like this would happen.” *reaches out to pat away some of the dusty flour* “Guess when we’re finished baking, it’s bath time again.”

//----------//

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head, but these are just some cute things that came to mind~

The Pomefiore part was actually based on this one post I came across, though I could only find the pictures. While I had initially thought of it happening at Heartslabyul or even Scarabia…I just got soft thinking of Vil indulging mini!Yuu and helping to create good art QvQ/)

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland monster au #twst monster au #savanaclaw #diasomnia #pomefiore #heartslabyul

289 notes · View notes

rosehxnt · 8 months

Note

Hi there! Since requests are open, could I request Floyd or Rook (whichever you feel you could write best/are comfortable writing) with a s/o who is very expressive with their emotions, and very easy to read? Like you can visibly see how they feel just by their face, and they have pretty obvious and dramatic reactions,, I just think it would be cute! Thank you so much!

an open book i’d gladly read

characters: rook hunt warnings: french, mentions of money struggles

It’s not like it would be a struggle for him to read you if you weren’t as expressive as you are, he is incredibly observant after all. He does, however, enjoy seeing the building happiness in your expression whenever he greets you with his flowery words. Rook was well aware how dramatic some of your reactions could become, so he strived to bring out the best of them, often upping his already dramatic flare.

Lately you'd been eyeing a certain item whenever you two went to the store together. It was a book from your favorite author but you could barely pay for food so you were waiting for the dreams of reading it to pass. Lucky for you, Rook took notice of your disdain and took it into his own hands to get you a copy for a surprise gift. "Good morning, mon cherie," he said, hands behind his back. You squinted your eyes, suspicious of the hunter. Nevertheless you responded. "Good morning to you, mon chasseur. What do you have behind your back there?" "You've caught me! I've brought you un cadeau, mon amour." "You didn't have to get me a present, Rook," you respond. "I don't have anything to give you either." "There's no need for you to give me anything in return, I know your happiness will be enough. Now hold out your hands." You held your hands in front of yourself eagerly despite your feeling bad at not having anything to gift in return. Rook placed the present in your hands and almost immediately you could tell it was a book wrapped in a ribbon. It couldn't be...a smile spread across your face. "You may open your eyes," Rook said, ready to take in your expressions. Open your eyes you did, as soon as you read the title the excitement couldn't be contained inside your body and you began to take small jumps in place, rocking back and forth on your feet. "Thank you so much!" You held the book to your chest. "You're the best." "Open up the front cover, mon cherie, there's more surprise to be had." Rook smiled softly as you followed his instructions. You looked down at the penmanship scribbled on the first page. It was a message for you to enjoy the story, signed by the author, addressing you by name! "Rook this is so cool, I love it so much!" You enveloped him in a tight hug. "I'm gonna read it right away." "Tell me all about it when you're done." He held you close to his chest.

a/n: first ever request wow, i hope you like it! m.list & rules

#ediewrite #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #twst x reader #twst imagines #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #twisted wonderland rook #rook x reader

204 notes · View notes

cemeterygirlrocks · 8 months

Text

NOT WHAT YOU THINK I AM —DR. SPENCER REID

Summary; The team is lead to believe that Spencer is the one in charge, and you don’t deny it. That is, until you’re both alone.

Contents; handjob (male receiving), dacryphilia, blackfem reader, sub!spencer, dom!reader, not much use of Y/n, workplace sex, cum eating, overstimulation.

“She always follows around you like some lost puppy, damn Y/n.” Morgan snickered, you knew he was just teasing, he knew better than to be serious.

You didn’t even realize,

Spencer would always help you with stuff. Your work, when sauce would make its way outside your mouth, even fix your hair for you.

You didn’t realize how under his control you looked, never crossed your mind. Both Spencer and you knew who was in charge, and he didn’t stray far from that in the bedroom.

You looked at him like he was God, but you never noticed. You’ve always stared at him like that.

So when Spence started acting more dominant in the workplace it didn’t bother you not one bit, even the teasing from Morgan.

It was pretty normal, normal things he’d do in public also.

He would lead you places, sometimes have the last say. Feed you, pull you onto his lap.

Only when Hotch wasn’t looking.

When rumours popped up saying Spencer was in charge of you, telling you what to do, how to act. Even going so far as to saying what he told you to do you did, no questions asked.

It was somewhat true, but it was only because you loved him. Of course you would do what he said, and so would he to you.

The shock you went through when you found out your sweet Spencer was the one spreading those terrible rumours.

When girls came up to you it started to become a problem. Telling you how lucky you were that Spencer was yours, how good he must be in bed.

He wouldn’t even lay a hand on you with your permission. It only made your anger grow when Morgan and Garcia joined in with the teasing.

You stared at him from your desk, watching him scribble down words you didn’t care about. Your blood was boiling, you were so mad inside but you looked so sweet on the outside.

Your pouty lips, skin glistening. It was truly a sight to see.

Spencer knew you were looking at him, he could feel your stare. That same stare that made him shiver.

You never acted dominant at work. You were soft and caring, never even rolled your eyes. It wasn’t like you weren’t soft and caring at home, but you never let bedroom you and work you mix.

Your Christian Louboutins clicked on the ground as you jumped off your desk, making your way towards your baby.

A black skirt molded around your body, a black blouse holding up your pretty titties to match with two buttons undone.

Once you got to his desk you could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Boohoo.

Lowering yourself down towards his ear, “Spence?” You whispered, a smirk falling onto your face.

He nodded, wrong answer.

“You know I like words. You don’t wanna disappoint me, right pumpkin?” His head falling into his hands made you giggle.

His heart was racing, just like how it did every time you guys went home.

Holding your warm, soft hand out towards him you smiled softly, “C‘ mon baby, gotta talk to you.”

The man gulped, looking up at you with his big puppy dog eyes. You knew he was trying to apologize, knowing exactly what he did wrong.

Emily was watching, and noticed Spencer’s sudden change. She knew something was up.

Shaking your head you kept your hand out, your eyes glaring at him, “Don’t keep me waiting Spencer. Let’s go.”

He listened, he always did. So when he grabbed your hand his stomach caved in when you tightly squeezed it, making him follow you where ever you were taking him.

When you guys were out of view from the team he started speaking quietly, like someone was gonna somehow hear him.

“Is something wrong Y/n? You can talk to me.”

Rolling your eyes, you peeked into a room that wasn’t occupied, it was dark, with the window slightly open showing a hint of light.

This was it.

Pulling him into the room, you shut it and made sure not to lock it.

“Sit.” He looked at the chair than back at you, confused.

He was right to be confused, he knew you didn’t mix home with work.

Putting a hand on your hip you kissed your teeth, “Do I have to say daddy for you to listen?” Stepping closer to him you internally grinned when he took a step back.

He was trying to hold in his whines, clearly wasn’t doing good enough because you heard him.

“Please daddy? Sit down?” You laughed, running your hands through your long, soft hair.

“Stop.” He mumbled. Frowning, you tugged on his tie, “Hm? I can’t hear you. Daddy can you speak up?”

He was psychically in pain, he knew he shouldn’t have spread those things. It was a matter of time before you found out.

“Is that how you want me to act Spence? The way I am right now isn’t good for you?” His eyes widened and he shook his head quickly.

“No! N-no. I like the way you act. I love it, please? M’sorry.”

You tsked, pouting. Pushing him down into the chair you thought about what to do with him.

“Are you satisfied? I can go now?” You shook your head smiling brightly.

“Take off your clothes Spencer.” He raised his brows, heat raising to his cheeks.

“Hu—Did I stutter? Clothes off, now. Keep the tie, hurry don’t make me bored.”

He shot up, pulling off his sweater before unbuttoning his shirt. He kept looking at you, a whine escaping his lips when he saw how annoyed you looked of him.

Made him so sad, now he just wanted to please you. Whatever you wanted him to do he’d do it.

No questions asked.

When he unbuttoned his pants and let them flood around his feet the man looked up at you for approval, you didn’t give it.

So he slid off his boxers, his hard on slapping against his pale stomach.

“Hmph, alright.” You looked uninterested, something he hated so bad.

“Please, I’m sorry,” You motioned for him to sit down, and he did, “Don’t matter now, want you want me to do now daddy?”

“No, please no,” Tilting your head you bit down on your plump, juicy lips, “What? You want me to sit down instead? Have you hurt me?”

Spence sniffled, he could feel the tears coming, “I want you to touch me, you can hurt me a-all you want. I’m yours.”

“Seemed like the other way around.”

Your hands crept down to his cock, squeezing the base. A yelp left his lips and you quickly covered it with your hand.

Something about him being completely naked and you all the way dressed made him twitch. Anything you did could make him cum, that’s one of the reasons you had to do multiple rounds with him.

Taking his pre cum and spreading it all over his member, you began making your pace. Starting soft from the base, you squeezed and turned once you got to the tip, his breath shaky and his hips stuttering.

“Shh, you want the whole team in here pumpkin? Have them see you looking like a slut, after you ran your mouth?” His big eyes locked with yours, you could see them fill with his salty tears.

When he blinked, you felt the wetness on your hand.

“Crying isn’t getting you out of this. All because you just had to be dumb, why Spence? I hate treating you bad, but you’re always in need of a punishment.”

Your hand fell from his mouth to his neck, gripping it tightly while pressing hard kisses and bites to his neck. He was so pale they were gonna be marks very soon, and he knew you didn’t care.

“I should find another boy, somebody who won’t be so bad. You think so?”

You were gonna do what you wanted, when you wanted.

“Hah.. fuck. No please, m’sorry, y-you know I’m sorry. I can.. can prove it to you. J..just let me.”

“Boohoo, if you don’t cum right now I’m gonna leave you here and take your clothes. You want that baby? Have them see how weird and sick you are?” You went faster, smirking when his chest fell closer to you, his forehead sweating.

You pulled him to your face by his tie, his tongue was at the side of his mouth, licking his dry lips. “Dr Spencer Reid the genius is a freaky pervert who likes to jerk off in the office.”

He couldn’t help but cry, you were always serious. You would ruin his career, and you both knew it.

All he could was apologize, mumbling incoherent apologizes while trying to keep his eyes open.

“Whose in charge?” Your hand wasn’t slowing down and he could feel the knot form, he needed to let go.

“Y-You.. fuck it’s you, pleaseee.” His voice was raspy and he knew he was about to come, you did too. That’s why you only started to focus on the tip.

He tried kissing you to mask his moans but you rolled your eyes, moving your face away from him. Spence had no other choice but to bite down on his bottom lip to hide it, it hurt so bad but he couldn’t make a sound.

His stomach clenched before he hurled towards you, breathing heavy through his nose trying to contain himself. You smiled to yourself, watching it flow out.

“Mhm, so much cum baby. Making me so proud. You know what?”

Stopping for a second, you let him look up at you, asking you to go on.

“I think.. you can do another one.” You scoffed when you heard him whimper. He couldn’t take it.

“Can.. can I just, just prove it to you. Let me touch you, can make you feel s’good. You know I can.”

While looking at him in disgust, you started your movements again. This time when he bit down on his lip, he drew blood.

It only excited you.

“What makes you think I even want you touch me? Don’t make me mad. Sluts don’t touch, you got it?”

“I-I, I’m gonna cum.” He didn’t respond to your statement but you didn’t care, your eyes watching the blood dripping his bottom lip.

“So soon? I think you can hold it pumpkin. Or else we’re just gonna have to another round?”

He nodded slowly, his head turning into the mush, “Aww, is the genius just a little whore now? Can’t speak, can’t even keep his pretty little eyes open.”

Trying his best to keep his eyes open, he looked up at you. Dried tears along with the new ones, bloody pink lips, hot red cheeks.

He looked to die. So cute, your dumb little slut.

“I can cum? Oh please let me cum.” You thought about it for a second, speeding up your movements while doing so. He choked on a moan, rolling his eyes back as your hand only focused on his burning hot tip.

“P-pleasee.. I’m so—fuck! Momma please, fuck please. I cant.. You know I-I can’t take it.”

“Please, yes you can. Don’t tell me what I know. I’ll count to 10, then you can cum, mkay?”

He desperately shook his head, he wasn’t gonna last. His legs were shaking, and he couldn’t keep his eyes from rolling back.

“One.” You twisted and turned, the gross sound of you twisting and his gasps the only thing you could hear in the room.

“Six.” He was so close, so close he could feel it.

The man was looking at you the entire time, he wouldn’t take it eyes off you even if he couldn’t keep them open.

“Nine.” He was waiting for you to say ten but you wouldn’t. Spence couldn’t help but beg, but still you didn’t open your mouth.

It truly was funny to you, you liked the way he looked a mess. “Ten.” You mumbled annoyingly.

You didn’t want it to end, who would? “H-holy… mmfuck!” You covered his mouth once again as he let loose, he shot so much out it surprised you.

He shuddered every time you rubbed him up and down. His eyes were bloodshot red, hair all messed up and the tears looking so pretty, stained on his face.

You took his cum into your hand, coating them on your fingers you pushed them into his mouth. You had a strong grip on his hair, your manicured nails scratching scalp.

It made you giggle when his eyes shot open, he still was a good boy, making sure to clean your fingers dry.

“Good boy.” He had a dopey grin on his face, looking up at you in awe. You repeated his action, til he was all clean.

Pressing a deep kiss onto his lips it took him back, he couldn’t catch up. He was so tired, the man wouldn’t last at work.

You tasted the blood on your lips, making him wince while you moaned into the kiss. Still having a strong grip on him you tugged his head back so you could make dark marks on his neck and chest.

He couldn’t fight, he was too into it.

You stepped back, looking at what you did. “Hmph, what am I gonna do with you.”

By the time you got him all dressed again, and looking somewhat presentable the work day was basically over.

The clicking of your heels made the team turn towards you with their brows raised.

“Spence isn’t feeling so well, he’s all hot and not doing so good. I’m gonna take him home, bye guys!”

Morgan and Rossi eyed each other, then turned towards Spencer.

They couldn’t tell what he looked like, but JJ and Emily were smiling to each other in the back.

“Be good!” Emily called out, shrugging when Morgan looked at her strangely.

Xoxo, liah

#black!fem!reader #dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #black fem reader #black reader #black!reader #blackfem!reader #pain kink #dacryphilia #sub spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x black reader #sub!spencer reid #sub!reid #sub!spencer

173 notes · View notes

formulaforza · 1 year

Text

love letters-- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 440 a/n: this is actually. so bad. i promise the other ones will be better.

He left it in the DVD case of your favorite movie, knew you’d be opening it a few days after he left. Watch it on streaming, he always told you, but you found something nostalgic about watching the same physical DVD every time you felt sad. Some people had their guilty pleasure foods, you had your guilty pleasure ancient DVD player.

Like clockwork, he left for the triple header on Monday, and by Friday night you were pulling the DVD out of the entertainment center, cuddled up with popcorn on the couch, using the movie as an escape from how much you missed your boyfriend.

You opened the plastic case and a white envelope fell into your lap, your name scribbled in familiar handwriting across the front. Read me, it said, with four exclamation points. You carefully opened the sealed envelope and pulled out a letter, written on a page from his racing journal. It was dated just over a week prior, and he drew little hearts around your name at the top of the page. Mon amour, the letter started, and you were already ready to burst into tears. A love letter? Cheeseball. You texted him, knew it would be hours before you got a response.

Mon amour, I am thinking about how much I will miss you, about how much I always miss you. It is so hard to be away from you. You are truly my best friend, my partner, my companion, and there is nothing I do that I didn’t wish I could share with you. I long for your touch when I am awake and I dream of your smile while I sleep. Nothing is going to go wrong while I’m gone, you told me yesterday with such confidence I almost believe you can will it to be true. Know that if anything doesn’t go my way, I will spend every minute waiting to talk to you, to be soothed by your words and your innate ability to make everything feel simple and clear and easy. I am so in love with you it is pathetic, grateful every day that you continue to choose me, to love me in all my flaws and imperfections and chaos. You are watching your favorite movie on that stupid DVD player. Mon ange, you are my favorite movie, and I would buy infinite DVD players if it meant I could continue to watch. Enjoy your movie, eat all the buttered popcorn you can, and don’t miss me too much. I will be home before you know it, reminding you just how much I adore you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Charles.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fic #cl16 #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #mack's 10 days of fluff #day 1

506 notes · View notes

fruit-salad-ship · 1 year

Text

She's returned from Hisui, some mons find her out in the field in the same spot where she was taken, unconcious and hurt badly, but alive, Val in her arms even in her state. Theyre rushed to the labs, and despite brutal injury, should be fine. Val's put in the ICU, the staff do not leave her alone, if anything were to happen to that pokemon Peach would lose it.

The professor herself is taken home, dosed to the hilt with pain meds, and put in bed after being cleaned up a little, checked out. Some broken ribs, fractures in the hands, a knuckle completly shattered, the healing mons come to her, repair what they can, but theres not a lot to be done about broken bones, those just take time.

Grey cannot explain the clothes, the scars that she never had, healed and seemingly old now, nor the changes in her physical apperance, hairs longer than it was that morning, she's somehow bigger? the notable white streak in the hair??? Only thing she's got on her is a half filled notebook tucked away in a pocket, small but hers, full of scribbles, sketches, mons long extinct in some cases, unusual variants, some kid he's never seen, Val, scenery. Plum in particular thumbs through it for a long while, unaware that this woman had any artistic skill, but it had to be her right? Thats her hand writing... some of it in Ancient Hisuian????? A pretty dead language these days. She said she was from Sinnoh but didnt expect this level of knowedge from her.

Takes 13 hours for her to wake up, the longest 13 hours theyve sat through, neither able to sleep, pacing around the house. When she's finally awake, totally buzzed from painkillers, nothing feels real, its out of body, touching stuff is abstract, the feeling is all wrong, heads fuzzy, she hit the deck pretty hard during the battle with Arcaeus, body went through a lot, she recalls falling for a long time, the impact should have broken her back, cracked her head, but here she is. She must be dead, this is a dream, being back home again like this is not new, she's had this dream so many times since leaving.

It is Val, waking in the ICU and demanding Booker comes to see her immediatly that is the turning point. Since peach left, she'd used taste to ground herself, when dreams felt too real, when reality felt off, taste stays the same. There when youre awake, gone if youre in a dream, or even an illusion. Val tells the Teddiursa to get some potent tasting berry and force feed Peach, only then will she realise this is the real timeline she was suppost to be in. Bob ambles in and sits with Val for the rest of her rest, old friends.

Once Peach realises she's home, truly, her thoughts immediatly go to her partner, and despite dizzy head and a body full of breaks and bruises, she gets on her feet, staggers her way to the labs, finds her partner, in just a bad a way as she is. The two sit together and say nothing, they dont need to. She waits until Val wakes up again, in and out of rest, petting bob as he dozes close. They've gone through hell and back, and now, with her partner, she makes the joke, the one she's sat on the whole time, recalling their original weekend holiday plans.

"Maybe we'll get to go camping now." knowing neither want to be anywhere but curled up at home right now. They fought god and came out alive, fuck camping.

Days pass recovering, neither well, but alive, repairing, it takes time. And in that time, Peach tells her loved ones everything, every lie, every hidden secret, all out on the table, Val even shares some memories with Grey and Plum, who have both a million questions, and new found deep understanding for her personlaity and behaviours now. She is sorry, painfully so, and sees she's made a lifetime of mistakes, too afraid to lose what she'd gained, the good in her life something she was not willing to risk, but in being secretive, she was putting them in danger. If they left now, she would understand, theyre free to do whatever they need to. Grey looks at Plum, a moment passing, before the pair get up. Peach thinks to leave, accepting it, but they wrap her up in their arms and squeeze as much as her damaged body can take.

They're sad for her, she has not had it easy by any means, but after being handed that shitshow of a childhood, Peach made something good of her life, and that takes real strength.

#i said id doodle it all #and i did #prof.peach #doodle #pokemon

697 notes · View notes