#And he's asked me “are you really using that? ):” 3 times now

[houseofaegon]

SKINNY DIPPING pt. 1 ✩ Wally Clark

Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader

Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)

Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.

Author's note: God bless Milo Manheim!!!!!!!!!! I love this idea of having a bucket list of things they want to do before crossing over. It might be cool to make it into a series. idk. We'll see. :) For now, enjoy!! I hope you guys like it. <3 xoxo, nai.

Word count: 1714

Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn.

masterlist. part 1. part 2.

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Wally had been wandering the halls of the school, bored out of his mind, his thoughts drifting aimlessly as he just tried to make it through another day—not that he ever expected much on a normal one, at least. But then, there were those days. The ones that turned into trouble. The kind of trouble that you made happen.

It didn't really take much to turn an average boring day into something unforgettable when you were involved. You were the life of the party. You and Wally? Every single time you two were together, trouble seemed to follow.

And today? Today was no different.

You had both made a promise long ago: make eternity fun. It was a pact, a way to deal with the fact that you two were dead, with no going back to your old lives. So, you'd sworn to make the most of every single day, even if it meant causing chaos along the way.

You'd even written down an entire bucket list with him. Wally named it "100 things to do before crossing over." You two hadn't really crossed off many of the things you'd written down; some of them were not very possible, given the fact that you two couldn't really leave the school grounds. But that didn't stop you from trying to make every day feel like it mattered.

After walking aimlessly around the school, Wally finally spotted you, sprawled out on the bleachers of the football field. The sun was making your skin glow, and despite the fact that you couldn't tan anymore, you still seemed to soak up every single ray as if you were trying to relieve the feeling of it. One arm draped over your eyes, one leg over the other. Wally smiled; you always found a way to look effortlessly cool and beautiful, even in moments like this.

Wally climbed up the steps, settling on the one just below you, his eyes studying you. "We're gonna have field day in an hour," he said, his voice light. "Mr. Martin wants to do something...different. A bonfire or whatever. I don't know. Rhonda told me."

But you didn't respond. Your silence made him arch an eyebrow.

"You good?" he asked, his tone shifting to a more serious now. He wasn't too used to you being so quiet.

You opened your eyes, lazily glancing at him. “Just thinking,” you murmured, your voice soft.

“Dangerous,” he teased, though he could tell something was off. You smiled at him, rolling your eyes, but he noticed they didn't have that usual sparkle.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked again, a little more worried now.

You propped yourself up, your gaze flickering to the school building for a moment before focusing back on him. “Yeah,” you said, your voice steadier this time. “I’ve just been thinking about that list we made.”

“The one with a hundred things we’re supposed to do before crossing over?” Wally asked, smirking. “We’re halfway through, but there’s still plenty of time left.”

He watched your expression closely, trying to figure out what was going through your head, but you were unreadable as ever.

You shook your head. “We haven’t really crossed off much…” You trailed off for a second, your gaze flicking to the sky before you let out a sigh. “I just feel like... days are getting boring, Wally.”

He tilted his head. “Well, let’s do something not boring, then. Something stupid.”

“Define stupid.” You raised an eyebrow.

Wally’s lips curled into that signature cocky grin. The one that always meant he was about to take things to another level.

“Number 16,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

“Do you expect me to remember?” You shot back, trying to act nonchalant, but there was a flutter of excitement in your chest.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Skinny dipping, dumbass.”

You froze for a moment, processing his words. Your mind raced, the idea catching you off guard. It was reckless, a little insane—but totally on brand for the two of you.

"You're serious?" you asked, staring at him with a mix of disbelief.

Wally leaned forward slightly, his voice low, his gaze burning with that familiar mischievous fire. “Dead serious.”

You couldn’t help it. A wicked smile spread across your face as you locked eyes with him. It was just a stupid thing to do. Just another one of your meaningless games. No harm in it, right?

"You're insane," you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself off the bleacher to stand right in front of him. You looked down at him, your gaze meeting his with a challenge in your eyes.

Wally just shrugged. “Yeah, well, eternity wouldn’t be fun if we weren’t at least a little bit insane.” His eyes traced the curve of your body, the unspoken tension between you both suddenly feeling palpable, thick in the air.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the heat that seemed to spark between you both. “I swear you’ll get us caught.” You half joked, but the wild idea was starting to feel too good to back away from.

“Let’s make it quick then,” he replied. “We’ll make sure no one sees us.”

"I swear, Wally, if we get caught... I'll kill you," you warned, your voice a mix of a playful threat.

Wally chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "You wouldn't," he teased, but there was a spark of mischief in his eyes that made your stomach flip. "Besides, it's not like anyone's out there anyway. Everyone's off by the bonfire, telling ghost stories or whatever it is they do. We're fine. I'm sure they won't miss us."

You shot him a skeptical look, doubting if you should agree to it but you craved the adrenaline more.

"Come on," he grinned, grabbing your hand. "Let's go have some fun."

The thrill and the adrenaline coursed through you as you followed him, letting him guide you through the school. Wally was always the one to get you into trouble, but you couldn't deny how much you loved it.

As you both snuck through the hallways, being very careful to avoid Rhonda, Charley, Mr. Martin, or anyone who might spot you. You both could hear the muffled sounds of chatter echoing from the field.

When you finally reached the indoor pool, Wally paused at the entrance, opening the door slowly, and scanning the room. It was empty. The sun was almost gone, and the full moon shone brightly through the roof, illuminating the pool in a way that made the entire space feel almost otherworldly.

Wally turned back to you, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we have the place all to ourselves."

"Good," you smiled. "Kinda wanted some alone time, y'know?"

Wally's smile grew bigger, his gaze deepening. He took a step closer to you, his eyes locked onto yours. "I was actually thinking the same thing," he said, his voice low, more intimate. There was a flicker of something between you, a feeling that had been there for a while but neither of you had ever acknowledged it. "Just you and me."

"Just you and me," you repeated slowly, the words lingering in the air between you two.

For a second, everything faded away. The pool, the school, the world—it all felt distant, like a memory. It was just you and him, standing there in the moonlit pool, the adrenaline cursing through your veins.

Wally's hand was still intertwined with yours; his touch was warm, and even though you were technically dead, you still felt alive in moments like this. His gaze never left yours as he stepped closer, his breath becoming quicker.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice a mix of excitement and something else, something deeper, though it was hard for you to place.

You met his gaze and smirked. "Dead serious."

Wally's lips curled into a grin, there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes and it made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze on you caused your head to spin, his presence was overwhelming. He leaned in, his voice lowering to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "Just us?"

"Mhm," you nodded, your gaze never leaving his.

There was a subtle shift in Wally's demeanor, a possessiveness in the way he looked at you, but it wasn't the kind that felt controlling, it was the kind that made you feel like he was claiming this moment, claiming you, without saying a word. The air grew heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts, you couldn't really tell if it was the adrenaline or something else, but you felt your heart pound louder in your chest.

"Yeah?" Wally repeated, a challenging tone lacing his voice, his smile never wavered. He stepped a little bit closer, closing the distance between you, his body just a fraction of an inch from yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension between you so strong, so thick you could almost touch it.

You tilted your head slightly, feeling the weight of his gaze, how it seemed to pierce right through you, taking in every single inch of you. His pupils were wide, dark, hungry, and the intensity of his stare made your heart race faster than before.

There was no going back now.

And honestly? You did not want to.

"Yeah," you whispered, a little breathless, words barely escaping your lips.

Just you and him, no distractions, no one to come between you two, no rules, no secrets, no limits.

Just you and him.

"So...Skinny dipping?" his lips brushed against your ear, his voice now a low whisper.

This might actually be the worst idea you've ever had. You'd suggested skinny dipping as a joke, both drunk and laughing while writing the list, not actually expecting him to go forward with it.

But here you were, bodies so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, the air thick, almost suffocating. His eyes so dark, filled with something you couldn't quite describe, but you knew this wasn't just about a dare anymore.

This wasn't just a game.

It was about to become something entirely different, something that could change everything, ruin everything, but... maybe, just maybe, you wanted it to. 

[moody-alcoholic]

Inspired by: Service Dog Johnny by the amazing void-my-warranty. I had the idea of; what if the roles were slightly different. What if Johnny invited Simon to come and fuck his girl to get over his fears.

Anyway. I'm super nervous about this because I really don't think I can do SDJ justice but enjoy none the less. Also void if you're seeing this you're awesome thank you for gifting the world SDJ.❤️

Part 1

Summary: John MacTavish x reader x Simon Riley (kinda), WC: 3.2k

CW: +18 content MDNI, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, angst, implied past abuse.

Enjoy <3

---

It’s Friday when Johnny springs the news his friend is coming round that evening. He didn’t give you much time to prepare, or get the house clean but you do the best you can. Johnny does go to the store for you and picks up some beer for them both. 

“You don’t need to do anything special.” Johnny says opening a beer. 

“I don’t mind, it's not that big of a deal, I like cooking.” You say, he comes over and wraps his arm round your waist kissing your neck.

“What exactly does he need help with?” You asks stirring the food. 

“Well, it’s.” He sighs, taking another sip of the beer. You turn to look at him, he seems nervous. 

“Would you ever be up for a threesome?” He asks suddenly. The question shocks you a little, you reach over and pick up your glass of wine. You weren’t expecting that, not the most unusual thing Johnny has asked you about when it comes to sex though.

“I mean, would you?” You ask taking a sip to quell the nerves. 

“Depends on who the other person is.” He says, running his hand through his hair. You take another sip and put the glass down. 

“What has this got to do with Simon? Is he the person you would want to have a threesome with?” You ask frowning. He takes another swing of his beer. 

“It’s not that simple.” Johnny says, you shake your head, now you’re even more confused. 

“I want to help him have sex.” Johnny says, holding his hands out. 

“Help him have sex by having a threesome?” You ask. 

“There’s more to it than that. It’s not just a threesome.” Johnny says. “He’s, he’s been through alot. Being intimate, it’s something he’s not very used to.” 

“Okay. Is he shy?” You’re not sure what to say, you've never even met him. 

“Shy? No, not Simon, well-” Johnny’s sentence gets cut off by the ringing of the door. 

“Just trust me, okay?” He says coming over to you and resting his free hand on your shoulder. You nod, you trust him. Now all of a sudden you feel nervous, you weren’t nervous before now, Johnny leaves the room to answer the door. So he’s invited Simon round for sex? Did Simon ask for this or is this one of Johnny’s master plans?

Or well, maybe he’s not here for sex because Simon has intimacy issues apparently. He should be talking to a therapist, what does Johnny expect to do? You have to keep a straight face though, you don’t want to make him more uncomfortable then he probably already is.

You turn off the stove hearing Johnny laugh as he comes in with Simon. You turn and smile at him, you put your hand out to shake it as Johnny introduces you. He’s not what you expect and he doesn’t seem shy. 

He’s massive, bigger and taller than Johnny, he’s definitely good looking, fit, brown eyes and blonde hair. With the way he holds himself you can tell he’s a soldier, Johnny does the same when he’s nervous, he probably doesn’t even realise it. 

“Thank you for cooking, you didn’t have to.” Simon says as you all walk over to the dining table. 

“I told her the same,” Johnny says, nudging him.  

“I don’t mind, besides when was the last time you had a home cooked meal?” You say going back into the kitchen while Johnny and Simon sit down. You finish your glass of wine swallowing the nerves, it’s going to be fine. What's the worst that could happen, you all have sex? 

That wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

…

Johnny and Simon seem to get on great, after a beer they both relax. You just enjoy listening to them talk about their last deployment. You don’t mind letting your second glass of wine mull you out. After everyone is finished and your stomach’s have settled Johnny insists on moving to the living room.

You all end up on the sofa, you find yourself relaxing against Johnny as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe Johnny won’t bring it up or maybe he’s waiting for Simon to bring it up. It’s not your job surly, you look up at Johnny, blinking at him, maybe he’ll get the idea. 

He smiles and kisses your forehead. Maybe not. You sigh looking back over at the bottle of wine and unopened beer cans on the table. 

“When was the last time you got laid LT?” Johnny asks suddenly. You snap your head back up to look at him. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face looking over at Simon. You hear him clear his throat, now you feel bad. Fucking epitome of subtle as always Johnny.

“Why do you want to know?” Simon replies, you look over at him. He’s resting the beer on his knee, he doesn’t seem nervous. More irritated that Johnny asked him. 

“Just looking out for you Si. Need you to blow off some steam before we’re back to work and you’re busting my balls again.” Johnny chuckles, at least that makes Simon smile. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask him trying to steer the conversion away from the awkwardness hanging in the air. 

“No.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat. You let out a breath sitting up. Johnny frowns at you. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You say, Johnny smiles his hand resting on your hip for as long as can. 

When you make your way back down you hear Johnny talking. You hang back for a second and eavesdrop. 

“I wanna help you Simon.” Johnny says.

“You don’t have to.” Simon replies.

“Well of course I don’t have to. I want to.” Johnny replies, Simon sighs and you hear a can open. “I think it would be good for you, if you want. We’ll take it slow, promise.” 

You feel a lump rise in your throat at Johnny’s words, you always knew he was close with his unit but you didn’t know he was this close. You let out a breath and slowly walk back into the room. You see Johnny move his hand off Simon’s thigh and you go over to pick the empty cans off the table. 

“Need anything?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level. Johnny and Simon both shake their heads. You go into the kitchen anyway to throw out the cans. You hear Johnny coming in, his hands slip round your waist. You smile at his touch and turn to face him. 

“Do you mind doing this?” Johnny asks, his thumb comes up to brush your cheek. 

“Do you?” You ask. He smiles, nodding his head. You smile back, reaching up and kissing him. 

“We’ll take it slow. You want to stop at any time we will.” Johnny says his hand rubbing your arm. 

“I don’t think it’s me you need to be worrying about.” You say. 

“Sorry I sort of sprung this on you, I didn’t know if he would agree.” He says, you frown. 

“Did you speak to him about this before tonight?” 

“I hinted at the idea.” 

“Hinted?” You scoff. “John MacTavish, you're the least subtle person I have ever met.” You wrap your arm around his waist pulling him against you. He hums with that cheeky grin on his face. 

“What happened to the bra?” He asks. You smile. 

“One less obstacle.” He kisses your forehead. You follow him back into the living room, Simon has moved onto the recliner. This time when you sit back on the sofa you don’t lean against Johnny. 

Simon seems to be suddenly extremely interested in what’s going on on the news. Johnny’s hand lands on your thigh and rubs it. He turns and leans in to kiss you, he takes his time mapping your mouth out, you relax into the kiss forgetting Simon’s there for a second.

Johnny’s hand slips up your shirt groping your breast. You hum in his mouth and he pulls away from the kiss. He removes it, gripping the hem of your shirt. You raise an eyebrow at him, what you’re just going to fuck while he watches or maybe joins in.

Johnny tips his head to the side smiling. You swallow the nerves and hold your hands up so he can slip your top off. A satisfied noise leaves Johnny and before you can start to feel really embarrassed about anything he’s already locked his mouth round one of your nipples.

You can’t help moaning and running your hand through his hair. He had it cut while he was away, you want him to grow it out again so you have something to grip onto. Johnny’s tongue flicks your nipple and he gently nibbles it before he pulls his mouth off with an audible pop. 

“What do you think, Si?” Johnny asks, looking over at him. You look over to see Simon press his lips together. “Pretty ain’t she?”

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as he nods, it doesn’t last long though. Johnny pulls you closer to him, planting his lips on yours and pressing his tongue in your mouth while his thumb rubs circles on your nipple still wet from his mouth.

He breaks from the kiss pressing his forehead on yours. “How ‘bout you go show Simon how good you are?” He says, it’s almost a whisper. You nod and he gives you one last quick kiss before you stand up. 

Johnny's hand lingers on the small of your back for as long as he can as you step over to stand in front of Simon. He doesn’t look that nervous, you know he is though, the way his lips are pressed together avoiding your eye line. His hands gripping the chair arms. You’re not sure what to do, make sure you don’t freak him out is probably a good start. 

“I’m not a virgin.” He says, you clench your jaw feeling awkward. “It’s just been a while, I'm out of practice.” 

“How long?” You ask.

You bring his hand up and place it on your breast. “I like having my nipples played with.” You say letting go of his hand, encouraging him to squeeze. You smile at him, you need to keep yourself open and calm. 

“Couple of years,” he says, like it's the most embarrassing fact in the world. Now you just feel bad for him, again. You reach down for the hand resting on the chair arm and pick it up. You can see the bulge in his pants, that's good, one less obstacle you need to worry about. 

His hands are rougher than Johnny’s, his grip is tighter, you’re not sure if it’s out of nerves or not. If he relaxes it will be easier, you don’t think that's going to be happening any time soon. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you reward it with a hum, trying to make your body relax even more. 

His other hand comes up to your other beast and before you know it he has both his thumbs running over your nipples. It feels good, if this were any other situation-or Johnny you might be able to cum just like this. 

You feel Johnny step up behind you, his hands land on your waist as he pulls you back against him. 

“Wanna see what else she likes?” He asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. Simon looks up at him and nods. Johnny leaves you and Simon drops his hand as you both watch Johnny move the coffee table out the way. When he’s done he goes over to the sofa and pulls the throw down on the floor, sitting down with his back against the sofa. 

“Come.” He says gesturing at you, you raise an eyebrow and walk over anyway, he spreads his legs and pats on the floor between them.

“Pants off, back on my chest.” He says, you nod pulling them off. This time you don’t get embarrassed thinking about Simon seeing you. You sit down between his legs and rest up against his back. You look over at Simon who’s face has turned a light red. Maybe this is too much, too fast. 

He hasn’t said stop though. Johnny reaches over and pulls your knees up so Simon has a perfect view of you spread out against him. You can feel his own cock pressing against your lower back, his hands run down your thighs eventually pressing on your clit. 

You try not to squirm, keeping yourself still. You let out a breath as Johnny moves his fingers round soaking them in your juices before pressing them back on your clit. You moan this time at the new sensation, his fingers pressing little circles with ease. 

That’s good though right? You should be looking like you’re enjoying yourself. This is a fun activity not something to be afraid off. 

“She likes this too, Si. Wanna feel?” Johnny says then presses a kiss into your neck. You watch as he shifts in the chair, for a second he looks like he doesn’t know what to say. He lets out a sigh and stands up out of the chair, he steps over then kneels down in front of you. He watches for a second as Johnny changes his strokes. 

You see Simon swallow before he reaches out. Johnny’s fingers are replaced with his. It’s a whole different sensation. His movements are slower, more unsure but the pressure is there and from having them both play with your nipples your body is slowly building up to that sweet release. 

“Put your fingers in her.” Johnny says after a few seconds. Simon looks up at him then quickly to you, you smile and nod at him. He shuffles on his knees again taking his fingers off your clit almost like he’s unsure. 

You watch his adam's apple bob then he presses a finger into you. You can’t help moaning, his finger stops, you smile at him and he continues to press it in until he can’t anymore. You feel Johnny’s cock twitch behind you. He’s enjoying this, he moves his fingers back to your clit. 

“Feel good love?” Johnny asks in your ear, you nod. “Use your words darlin’ tell him how good you feel.” 

“Your finger feels good Simon, you can use more if you want.” You say looking up at him. You think you see the faintest smile creep onto his lips. The next time he pulls his finger out he adds another. The new stretch makes you part your legs further, scooting your position slightly so his fingers rub against your g-spot with each thrust. You moan again, this time tipping your head slightly. You want to come but not until Simon’s ready, you don’t want to scare him. 

“See not so scary after all.” Johnny says, you can hear the smile in his voice. You look up at Simon who seems like he’s in a world of his own, maybe that's where he needs to be to get through this. You wonder what happened to him, you didn’t bother asking Johnny. It must have been something horrible. 

You let out a moan trying not to clench down on Simon’s fingers, you don’t want to spook him. Johnny hums in your neck, you know he’ll know you’re close, sometimes it feels like he can read your body better than you. 

“What to make her cum?” Johnny asks, you almost want to nod and scream yes. Simon looks up again, he hesitates for a second, his fingers stopping in you. He nods and you smile at him. 

“Just don’t take your fingers out okay?” Johnny asks, you swallow, you don’t want either of them to take their fingers off you. Simon nods again, his fingers start moving again, he makes sure to press in all the way. He speeds up too, you’re not in control anymore, maybe it’s for the best. 

Johnny’s fingers on your clit are relentless, you’re focusing on not spooking Simon or clenching around his fingers until you cum. Johnny hums in your ear and it sends shivers down your spine. He can tell your close cock twitches behind you. You’re not sure if you need to give an audible warning to Simon though. 

Your breathing increases as does your moaning, you’re close and you need to make your mind up. 

“Johnny.” You call his name, it’s almost like you need to wait for his permission, you’re not sure what to do.

“Yeah baby, come for us.” His voice low in your ear. Christ, that's all the permission you need, you tip your head back and close your eyes moaning as you clench down on Simon’s fingers. He stops moving but you don’t care. Johnny rides you through the orgasm as Simon’s fingers leave you. 

“See, not so bad.” You hear Johnny say. You open your eyes as you feel Simon get up to his feet. 

“Si?” Johnny asks as he moves to leave the room. You sit up.

“Bathroom.” Is all he says as he leaves the living room.

“Is he okay?” You ask leaning forward between Johnny’s legs. You turn to look at him watching out the door. You both hear the downstairs toilet door close. Johnny looks back over at you and smiles, you can see the concern in his eyes though, he’s not as slick as he thinks he is. 

“You did great.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you. You can’t help feeling like you’ve done something wrong though. Maybe it was all too much for him. 

“I’ll go check on him.” Johnny says helping you to your feet. You smile at him and nod. Maybe he just needs a second. You feel bad all of a sudden. Johnny leaves and you shiver, the room suddenly feels cold. You’re just standing there naked, you’re not sure if things are going to continue. 

You reach over pulling the other throw off the couch and wrap yourself up. At least this way if he wants to keep going you don’t have to go through the hassle of taking all your clothes off. You want to sit down but your curiosity gets the better of you and you head over to the living room door. 

You hear the toilet door open. No one says anything, you make sure to keep out of sight of the hall, trying to focus on listening. 

You hear Johnny sigh. “You did so well mate.” There’s a sniffle in response, is he crying? Now you really feel bad for eavesdropping. 

“Wanna stay the night?” Johnny asks, there’s no response.

“Want a mask?” He asks, you frown, a mask? “Guest room, in the chest of drawers.” You hear movement and step back over to sit on the sofa. You’re still getting comfy as Johnny walks in. He smiles at you and comes over to sit next to you. His arm comes round your shoulders and he pulls you up against him. 

“Simon’s going to stay the night.” He says kissing the top of your head. You nod trying to swallow the guilt of eavesdropping on their conversation. Johnny reaches over to pick up the remote and unmute the TV. 

“Is he okay?” You ask. 

“He’s fine. He just needs a minute.” Johnny says. You nod 

“Thank you.” He says. “Really I mean it. You didn’t have to do this.” You look up at him and smile, it makes you feel all warm inside.

“I love you johnny.” You say. 

“I love you too.”

---

[sunshinehaze1]

Sizzlin’

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: Your friend convinces you to attend a BBQ at her boyfriend’s friend’s house. The last thing you expected was meeting Frankie.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. meet-cute, drinking (beers), slight dubcon (both reader and Frankie have had 2 beers, Frankie checks in), f!oral (it is Frankie, duh!), protected PiV, no use of Y/N

a/n: This was written for @yxtkiwiyxt’s NHIE Challenge. I received the prompt, “Never have I ever slept in someone else’s bed.” I LOVED this challenge and this was so much fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Thank you to my beautiful beta reader @80ssong 🥰

word count: 5,176

ao3 | ml

"Come on, his friends are really hot!"

Sabrina has been bugging you to attend a BBQ with her boyfriend's friends this weekend. They've been dating for over a year, and you've hung out with him a few times, but his golden retriever puppy energy can be overwhelming. He's a great guy, though, and he makes her happy. You're thrilled your closest friend has found someone who treats her right.

You roll your eyes. "I'm not looking to date right now."

"Who said anything about dating?" your friend counters. "You could just have some fun."

You brush her off at the suggestion. "Please, will you just come? His friends are a lot of fun."

Finally, you relent. "Ok, fine, I'll go. It's not like I had any plans this weekend anyway."

Sabrina lets out a delighted squeal and wraps you in a bear hug. "Perfect, I'll send you the address and meet you there at 3."

"Should I bring anything?" you ask as you walk your friend to the door.

"They're simple guys. Beer will do just fine." Sabrina waves goodbye and closes the door behind her.

—

With the address in the GPS and a couple of six packs in the passenger seat, you begin your drive. You're nervous about being in a new place and meeting new people, especially those who are "really hot." It's early fall in Florida, so you can still get away with wearing a sundress. The heat won't take a break for at least another two months, so you wear your favorite one to boost your confidence. "Fake it til you make it," right?

You pull into a quiet neighborhood. The streets are lined with older homes shaded with mature trees, dripping in Spanish moss. The GPS pings as you approach your final destination, and you park on the street in front of a one-story brick home with a driveway full of pickup trucks and Jeeps.

Before you exit the car, you take a final look in the rearview mirror to adjust your hair and ensure your makeup hasn't melted off. Taking a deep breath, you grab a six-pack in each hand and head toward the house.

—

"Pope, for fuck's sake!" A broad-shouldered man, who fills the entire door frame, swings the front door open just as you reach for the doorbell. Your arms flail in surprise, and you fumble to keep the beer from crashing onto the pavement.

"Oh, shit." the man startles. "Sorry about that; I was just going out to get something from my truck. Here, let me help you with those." His calloused hands brush over yours to grab the cartons from your hands.

"Um," you stammer. "Thank you." Sabrina definitely wasn't exaggerating. Benny's friends are hot—at least this one is.

You take him in, starting with broad shoulders covered in a washed-out maroon t-shirt underneath a chambray button-up. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his sinewy forearms. You notice a small bullseye tattoo on his hand resting between his thumb and index finger. A ballcap with an unfamiliar logo sits atop a mop of brown curls, which peek out in the back. His eyes are a rich brown; crinkles form at the corners when he smiles wide, dimpling his right cheek.

You follow him inside the house. He sets down the beers and extends his hand to greet you. "I'm Frankie. You must be Sabrina's friend."

"It's nice to meet you, Frankie." His strong hand wraps around yours, and you introduce yourself.

Frankie quickly excuses himself and heads back outside to his truck.

—

"HEEYYYYYYYY!!!" you hear Sabrina sing-song as she walks into the house from the backyard. "You made it!" She greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. She whispers in your ear teasingly, "So, I see you've met Frankie."

Shyly, "Yeah, we met. Almost lost a few beers in the process."

"I'm so glad you made it!" She drags you behind her toward the backyard. "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

You were surprised to see only Benny and two other men outside. This was a more intimate gathering than you had realized, immediately putting you at ease.

Sabrina introduces you to your host, Santiago, or "Pope," as you soon learn. Benny is two for two on the handsome friend count. He's shorter than Frankie, has dark hair and features, a broad smile, and a gregarious personality.

Next, you meet Benny's older brother, Will. Blonde hair, blue eyes, much more reserved than his brother. A strong, silent type. He seems content to be in his own world while he attends the grill.

You hear the grind of the sliding glass door behind you. Frankie walks through the threshold, waving a stack of folders in the air. "Got 'em!"

"My man!" Santiago slaps him on the back, "Thank you."

With his mission accomplished, Frankie finally has a chance to take you in fully. His gaze travels the length of your body, taking in your soft features and plush curves and admiring the cut of your dress, which perfectly accentuates your breasts, hips, and ass. The short length leaves your bare legs on full display.

—

The backyard is beautifully appointed with sable palms, hibiscus bushes, and a well-manicured lawn. There is a jacuzzi to the right of the grill, which doesn't surprise you; Santiago seems like a lady's man. No bachelor pad would be complete without a jacuzzi. Adirondack chairs encircle a small fire pit in the back corner of the yard. You reckon it only gets used during the short window when it is cold enough in Florida to have a fire and not melt.

"Food's almost ready," you hear Will call out.

Sabrina looks to you. "Come help me get the sides?"

You follow her back inside to the kitchen.

"What did I tell you?" Her eyes widened. "They're all hot, aren't they?"

You respond with a shy smile, "Yeah, you weren't lying."

She nudges her elbow against your arm while holding a bowl of potato salad. "I saw Frankie checking you out."

"You…" stammering out skeptically, "…no way?!"

"Yes, way! You look hot in that dress; why wouldn't he check you out?!"

You attempt to conceal your smile by focusing on the tiled floor. "He does seem nice."

"Oh, honey, he's not just nice! He's sweet, funny, and gorgeous," she whispers conspiratorially, "And it looks like he's packing some serious heat."

"Sabrina!" you scoff, playfully smacking her. "You're not supposed to be checking out your boyfriend's friend's package!"

"Says who? I can look, and you can touch to prove me right." She leaves you speechless, holding a tray of crudites, as she walks back outside, cooing to the boys that it's time to eat.

You make your way to the table with bench seats on either side. After you set the tray on the table, you take a moment to contemplate how to sit without exposing yourself in your short dress. Slowly, you lift your leg to straddle the bench, but your sandal catches, and you're thrown off balance. You brace yourself for an embarrassing fall until you feel strong forearms wrap around your waist to hold you steady. Frankie walking by at just the right time.

"Whoa, you alright there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." sheepish and embarrassed, "Thank you."

He grabs your hand and says, "Here, let me." You begin your second attempt at climbing over the bench, flattening the back of your dress underneath you before you sit down.

Frankie looks down at you. "Would you like a drink?"

"That would be great, thank you." Anything to wash down the embarrassment and cool off from the heat of Frankie's touch.

He fishes out a bottle of beer from the cooler. Out of your periphery, you ogle him as he's bent over. His shirt stretched across his back, rugged khakis taut over his ass. You're suddenly much thirstier than you thought.

He returns to the table and sets the bottle before your plate. You feel the warmth radiating from his chest against your back, his bicep less than an inch from your face. A slight turn of your head and your nose would be in his armpit. You hold your breath, afraid that if you let yourself breathe in his scent, you'd succumb to the physiological response. That and the fear of getting caught sniffing a man you just met in front of his closest friends tempers your impulse.

Frankie sits across from you while the rest of the group sits around the table. Serving platters are passed around until the plates are full.

Frankie finds himself distracted by your sweetheart-necklined dress as everyone begins to eat. The hem curving over the top of your breasts, meeting in the middle at a point, which draws his attention to the tease of cleavage. He's completely ignored the clamor of conversation around him. Suddenly, a baby carrot lands in his lap, and he's brought back to the present. "Hermano, did you hear what I said?"

Frankie stumbles a response, "What's that?"

"Malo." Santiago shakes his head and huffs a laugh, "Pretty girl in front of you, and you lose all sense."

You feel the attention of the table shift to you and quickly avert your gaze, picking at the food on your plate and fixating on the pattern that outlines the rim of the dish. Your cheeks heat from the eyes burning into you. You're cautious about looking up to gauge Frankie's reaction; you don't want to become even more flustered.

Frankie flings the carrot back at Santiago, "Shut the fuck up, man!" But he's quick enough to bat it away before it hits him. The rest of the table erupts with laughter, allowing the awkwardness of the moment to dissipate, and you and Frankie join in.

Will asks, "So, how long have you and Sabrina been friends?"

You're thankful for the segue. "We lived on the same street growing up in Orlando. She followed when I moved to Tampa a few years ago for work."

Sabrina chimes in, "Yeah, you wouldn't make it here without me!" You both giggle.

"Sabrina tells me you all served together in the Army?" the men nod in unison.

They briefly share how Frankie, Santiago, and Will met in basic training. Benny joined their unit a couple of years later. They share minimal details about their deployments, not wanting to dredge up too many memories of that time, especially with new company present.

They've all retired from the Army and returned to civilian life. Will tours the state, speaking with personnel considering retirement from service. Santiago runs a security firm where Benny works. Benny is also an amateur MMA fighter, which Sabrina isn't fond of, but even she can admit he's really good. She's even told you that watching him fight does turn her on.

Lastly, you learn that Frankie has transitioned to civilian piloting and leads helicopter tours of the Bay. He has a four-year-old daughter, Lila. When he talks about her, his eyes sparkle. Clearly, she is the light of his life.

You hesitantly ask about her mom. You're nervous that this guy you've developed a crush on in a short period isn't single. "We split up over a year ago. It wasn't working, and we can be better parents to Lila this way."

You're impressed with Frankie's maturity and self-awareness, which enable him to have an amenable relationship with his ex. As a child of divorce with parents who were unable to put their grievances aside, you know how vital co-parenting is for a child. "I'm glad you could figure out what works best for you both and Lila."

Frankie nods before he takes a swig of beer. You watch as his thick fingers wrap around the bottle's neck. You're fixated on his throat; his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows the bitter IPA—the prominent vein on the side of his neck, with moles that dot along his tanned skin.

You and Frankie have been in a bubble. The friends surrounding you have been long forgotten as your conversation flows naturally. He has a calming presence that makes you feel comfortable and at ease. He's confident and funny, with a raspy laugh that takes over his whole face and radiates through him and a smile so broad that his eyes disappear.

Subtle flirting has become more overt. Your hands brush against his when you reach for the bowl of chips at the same time. You accidentally bump into him when you stretch your legs in front of you underneath the table. But he doesn't pull away, the rough sole of his shoe brushing gently against your bare leg. You glance at him with a sheepish grin, and he returns with a toothy smile. Fuck, he is handsome. Your eyes remain locked on each other, heat coiling within your body, and you sense the same in Frankie.

"I'm going to grab more ice for the cooler from the garage." Frankie stands up from the table, his eyes silently communicating to follow his lead.

As you get up from the table, you take his cue and ask, "Do you need any help?"

"Yeah, that would be great." A sly grin emerges. "Thanks!"

Frankie follows you through the door, his hand brushing softly against the small of your back. The contact sends shivers down your spine, and your pulse quickens as you feel his warm palm against the thin material of your dress.

"Garage is this way." Frankie guides you down the hall to the right of the kitchen.

When you turn the corner, Frankie is immediately on you. He is unable to hold back a second longer. He has you pinned against the wall, his arms bracketing you above your shoulders. Hunger swirls in his eyes, and you feel his breath against your cheek. He's so close to you that you're sure he can hear your heart beating.

"You are so god damn pretty." his finger trails along the strap of your dress and loops underneath, "And you're fucking killing me with this dress. I needed to get you alone."

A sigh escapes your lips, overwhelmed by his closeness and his touch on your bare shoulder. Unable to speak, Frankie fills the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

All you can manage is a nod, your bottom lip held between your teeth in anticipation.

He leans forward until his plush lips connect with yours. A moan escapes you both at the contact. What begins as a sweet, chaste kiss quickly becomes more intense.

He licks at the seam of your lips, seeking permission to enter. The bill of his hat hinders him, but he quickly flips it around to devour your mouth fully. It's a flurry of tangled tongues as he licks into your mouth. A groan escapes him when you grab his bottom lip between your teeth. A gentle nibble quickly soothed by the swipe of your tongue.

With his arm around your waist, he pulls you closer to him, the weight of his bulge pressing against your thigh. You feel wobbly even though you're sandwiched between Frankie's solid frame and the wall, forced to grip his shoulders for purchase to remain upright. Your fingers map the sinew of muscle along his traps and deltoids as he dives in for another kiss. Which somehow leaves you even more breathless than the last one.

The feverish kiss continues as he pulls you further down the hall. Twisted limbs tripping over each other, bumping into the walls, leaving picture frames askew. Spurts of laughter echo through the hallway as you fumble around, fingers tangled in the fabric of each other's clothes. His wide palms rest against your hips before snaking around to grip your ass cheeks. You can feel the slick arousal pool in your panties.

Emboldened by the drinks you had earlier and Frankie's attention, you suggest finding somewhere more private.

Frankie growls and grips your wrist, taking you further down the hall until you reach a threshold with a closed door. His arm reaches behind you to turn the knob, and you both fall into the dimly lit room. Dark curtains are draped in front of large windows, and the setting sun peeks through the gap in the fabric where they meet. You and Frankie stumble your way further into the room, hands groping manically over each other's bodies.

You slide Frankie's button-up shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Then, you tug the T-shirt underneath from the waistband of his pants. His hands travel under the hem of your dress, his fingers dimpling into the supple flesh. He shuffles you toward the bed and tosses you against it, giggling as you flail backward onto the soft mattress.

"Fuck, I could get used to that sound." he huffs.

Propped up on your elbows with one leg crossed over the other, you give him a coy smile. Frankie's eyes burn with lust as his gaze trails up your bare legs to your core. "I'm going to need you to open up, baby."

You slowly uncross your legs and spread them into a wide v. Frankie watches you intently, eyes focused on the pull of your dress up your thighs exposing the gusset of your panties, enraptured by the blooming wet spot caused by your arousal.

He hums as he falls to his knees. Leaning into your center with a deep inhale. "Fuck!" His palms warm on your thighs, his eyes pleading, "Can I?"

"Can you what, Frankie?" you tease.

"Can I taste you?" a desperate tone to his voice, "Please?"

You nod, and he's on you within seconds. His fingers slip into the sides of your panties, and you lift your hips so he can pull them off. Your slick folds glisten in the soft light of the room. "Fucking gorgeous cunt."

"Frankie, please."

"I got you. I got you."

The swipe of his tongue through your folds emphasizes his reassurance, and you cry out with relief. The whiskers of his beard brush against the sensitive skin. Frankie moans into your core as the sweet, musky taste of your arousal dances across his tongue. A sample is not nearly enough to satisfy him; he dives in for more.

Desperate for better access, he spreads your thighs further apart, pushing your legs up until your thighs meet your stomach. He holds you down with his palms flat against the back of your thighs. He leaves a wet trail along your skin as his arousal-soaked lips slowly kiss up and down your thighs. A gentle bite on your ass cheek sends a jolt of surprise through your body that you can't help but squeak out a laugh.

You can't even recover before the tip of his tongue journeys across your outer folds, looping around to the other side before sliding through your seam again. Up, up, up until he reaches your clit. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub. Sucking it into his mouth, lapping kitten licks with the tip of his tongue. Your body writhes below him, pulsating need coursing through your veins.

You reach between your legs, eager to feel any part of him, and yank the hat off his head. You fling it behind you, where it lands on the floor with a thud. His gorgeous hair is now unencumbered, your fingers free to roam through his soft curls. You grip the brown locks between your fingers and pull him further into your pussy, his nose bumps against your clit as he eats at you. "Fuck, frankie, you're incredible."

And he is. He really is. The best head you've ever experienced. Somebody who was a stranger just a few hours ago. You can't recall the last time you've been with such an enthusiastic lover. Especially one that is so wanton, eating at you, bringing you intense pleasure, and not making you feel like its a chore or an obligation.

You practically had to beg your ex to go down on you, and when he did, he expected you to return the favor. It never was about your pleasure. Frankie is different. He eats at you like it's his only way of survival, as if he'll die if you don't come by his tongue.

He groans into your cunt, shockwaves pulse through your body, at the precipice of your orgasm, "I'm so close."

Frankie, seeking relief from his painfully hard cock, reaches down to unfasten his pants. He releases his cock from his boxer briefs with a sigh. With a swipe of his hand, he gathers the precum that has leaked from his tip to coat his cock before he begins slow strokes up and down his length while he continues to devour your pussy, suckling at your clit. You're near the edge, ready to tumble forward as your legs shudder, the grip on his locks tighten. Your pussy begins to flutter around his tongue as you tumble over the edge, coating it in your release. "Frankie. Holy shit." you try to catch your breath. "Oh my god."

You lift his head from between your legs, and he reluctantly pulls away with a disappointed whimper. "Too much." you pant, "You're too fucking good at that."

Between your thighs, a crooked smile appears through his slick lips and his glossy eyes connect with yours, "Fuckin hell, you taste good."

Frankie moves from the floor and crawls up your body. The weight of his cock resting against your worn out pussy. He leans down to kiss you, leaving a trail of nibbles along your jawline until he reaches that soft spot behind your ear. Licking and sucking down the column of your neck to where it meets your shoulder. His tongue swipes along your collarbone as he slips the straps of your dress down your shoulders to reveal the lacy cups of your bra.

His lips traverse the plane of your chest, hot breath hovers over the supple skin spilling out of the cups. He grips the fabric of your bra between his teeth and pulls down one cup and then the other to release your tits. He lathes over each nipple, pulling the hardened buds between his lips, flicking them with the tip of his tongue before a gentle bite and releasing with a pop.

You emit a low moan at the combination of his mouth on your tits and his dick sliding through your soaked folds, the tip brushing against your sensitive clit.

"You're so beautiful." Frankie shakes his head in disbelief. "Do you want to keep going?"

As if it were even a question. Of course, you want to keep going, but you appreciate Frankie's check-in. You grabbed his head between your palms and brought him closer, eyes locked on his, sealing your enthusiastic "yes!" with a feverish kiss.

With that, Frankie sits back on his haunches and searches the room. He knows he doesn't have a condom in his wallet. He hasn't needed one in a while. Even if he did have one, it would have expired anyway. As he becomes more acquainted with his surroundings, he slowly realizes where you are and breathes out, "Fuck!"

You sit up in bed, holding the top of your dress against your chest. "What's wrong?"

"We ended up in Pope's room." he runs his palm over his face, scratching the whiskers of his chin. "And I don't have a condom."

You push aside the inevitable embarrassment you'll face for fucking in your host's bed and suggest with a mischievous grin, "Surely, Santiago has condoms."

The distraught look on Frankie's face disappears with a broad smile, and he shifts on the bed to open the nightstand drawer. When he opens the drawer, a Costco-sized box of condoms greets him. Relief washes over him, and he's grateful he doesn't have to cut things short with you.

He reaches into the box and pulls out a foil pocket. You lean back, propped up on your forearms to admire Frankie as he tears open the package between his teeth while stroking his cock with his other hand. Sabrina will be happy to know she was right. His cock is beautiful. Thick, long, and uncut. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him roll the condom down his length. His eyes never leave yours.

"Don't worry. It'll fit; I'll go slow." He reaches up to the neckline of his shirt, gripping its back and pulling it off in one smooth motion. "Lay back, baby."

He positions himself back over you. The broad expanse of his tan chest blocks the view of your surroundings. Not that it matters anyway; all of your attention is on Frankie. Captivated by his gorgeous face and the moles that scatter along his neck and sternum. You've already forgotten you're in Santiago's room, about to fuck this beautiful man, on his bed. He leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips as he notches his tip at your entrance.

"You ready?" You nod, eager to feel him inside you.

It's been so long since you've had sex and you've never had a dick as large as Frankie's. As promised, he took things slow, feeding his cock inch by inch. Allowing time for your body to adjust before going further. There's a pleasurable stretch as your walls accommodate his girth and length as he reaches the hilt, kissing your cervix. "Pussy is just swallowing my cock, baby."

"It feels so good."

"Yeah?" He searches your face for any sign of discomfort. "You ready for me?"

"Yes! Fuck me, Frankie!"

Frankie pulls out until just the tip rests at your entrance. You whimper at the loss of him inside you, but he quickly soothes you with a thrust of his hips into you, pushing you further up the bed. He pulls out slowly, repeating the motion a few more times before he lands on a steady pace that has you seeing stars. "Hnngh, she's so tight." he moans, "Fuckin hell!"

"Harder, Frankie." you pant louder than you anticipated, "I can take it! Please, fuck me harder!"

Frankie slows his thrusts and quickly closes his palm over your mouth, "Shh. Shh. You gotta be quiet."

You hear the din and laughter from the backyard. You had been so distracted by Frankie's dick, you forgot you weren't entirely alone. "If I move my hand, can you be quiet?"

You nod. Frankie reignites his pace with more fervor this time. The tension built up over the afternoon finally comes to a head. Low moans rumble through you with each thrust. Your legs wrap around his hips.

"That's a good fucking girl." He reaches between your bodies to thumb at your clit. "I feel you squeezing me. Need you to come for me."

You scramble to reach the pillow behind you and hold it over your face to muffle your scream as you begin to pulse around his cock. Frankie continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his own imminent. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's spilling into the condom before he collapses onto you, breathless.

Your fingertips trail along the plane of his back and shoulders as his cock softens inside you. He peppers feather light kisses along your cheek before he reaches your lips and seals it with a searing kiss.

He pulls away to scan your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Perfect. Fucking incredible, Frankie"

—

You and Frankie sit together at the edge of the bed in your half-dressed, disheveled, fucked out state. The two of you savoring the afterglow of an incredible fuck and also delay the inevitable for as long as possible. You rest your head on Frankie's bare shoulder and express your embarrassment at a whopper of a first impression with his friends.

Frankie reassures you that it isn't that big of a deal. He kisses you gently on the temple and encourages you to get up so you both can rip off the bandaid. He scoops your dress up off the floor, and you flit around looking for your panties and bra while stealing glances at Frankie as he gets dressed.

When you're finally presentable, Frankie opens the bedroom door, motioning for you to go before him. As you head down the hallway, you're greeted with a chorus of cheers and slow claps.

"So, where's the ice?" You hear Benny boom out.

The group erupts in laughter, and you bury your face into Frankie's bicep. Standing next to Benny, Sabrina catches your eyes. With her palms facing each other, she subtly moves them closer and further apart, eyebrows quirking up. You avert your eyes to avoid her silent inquisition. You won't be able to handle her smugness over being correct about Frankie's size right now.

Frankie turns bright red while he stomachs pats on the back from his friends. Santi grips Frankie's shoulders from behind with a shake. "'Bout time you cleared out those cobwebs, hermano. But did it have to be on my fucking bed?"

—

You head back outside with the group for one last drink. Sabrina approaches you with a smile and wraps her arm over your shoulder to follow the guys. Another round of drinks is passed around, and fortunately, the topic of conversation has shifted quickly from your dalliance with Frankie.

Frankie sits next to you at the table, his thigh pressed against your bare skin.. He rests his hand just above your knee, offering a gentle squeeze. When you look up at him, his gaze focuses on you, and he smiles warmly.

The sun set a few hours ago, ushering in chillier air. Frankie notices you shiver. He pulls off his button-up and places it over your shoulders, returning his hand to your bare leg. You lean into him, savoring his warmth.

A few hours pass before you decide to call it a night, and Frankie offers to walk you to your car.

"It was really nice meeting you." You catch him nervously rubbing his hand against the back of his neck.

You grab his hand and squeeze, "You too, Frankie. I had a great time."

He smiles at this. "I'd love to see you again. Take you to dinner."

"I would love that!"

When you reach your car, you exchange numbers. With your back pressed against the door, Frankie's arm propped against the frame, he leans in for one last kiss. He squeezes your hip before he pulls away to open the door for you and as you turn to enter your car, he teasingly smacks your ass.

Before he shuts the car door, he offers, "Drive home safe. Let me know when you get home."

"I will." You nod. "I'll see you soon, Frankie!"

Frankie waits until you drive off before he turns to go back inside. A wide smile stretched across his face. A smile that won't be going anywhere any time soon. He's excited to find out what the future has in store for him, especially if that future includes you.

Thank you so much for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏼

tagging some folks who engaged in my WIP posts on this fic: @peepawispunk @burntheedges @joelmillerisapunk @baronessvonglitter @ak-vintage @probablyreadinsmut @goodwithcheese @almostempty (please let me know if you’d like to be removed)

[miedei]

plots and plans

the team's gotten to know spencer's gf very well... but now there's a new face in the bau (aka emily gets initiated into the team... by meeting mystery girl!)

a/n: this fic took an ungodly amount of time its been in my drafts for months but <333 mystery girl <333 (this is fr just a bau team fic at this point)

(look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), the team plotting, use of y/n eugghhhhh

wc: 3.4k

part one | part two | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

SSA Emily Prentiss is perfectly wonderful. Garcia thinks so, and so does Morgan. Sure, they miss Elle, and they miss working with her, but leaving the BAU was something she’d needed. Besides, Penelope wasn’t letting Elle out of the team’s outings anyway. 

So, the two of them really have nothing against Prentiss. She’s kind, good at her job, and fits into the dynamic of the team well. However, at the end of her third case with the team, something of interest happens that makes them start to plot against her. Lovingly.

Morgan’s on the phone with Garcia, letting her know that the unsub was in custody, when Emily comes up to him, tapping his shoulder. Without hanging up, he draws the phone away from his ear, turning to her questioningly.

“Morgan. Can I ask you something? About Reid?” At his sound of agreement, she plows on.

“Does he… He’s so young. Do you think he’s had the social experiences he needs?” She shakes her head slowly. “He’s so sweet that it makes me worry. I mean, a kid going to university at 14, that’s got to make you miss out on a lot of things, right?” She gestures to Spencer, and Morgan turns to see him. 

Spencer is fiending off the officers mobbing him with thanks and congratulations for his breakthrough on the case. A smile creeps up on Morgan’s face, watching him fiddle with his hands and bow his head nervously, trying to find a way out of the group.

“I mean, yeah, Reid’s a little clueless in some ways, but I don’t think it really affects him too much. He’s learned to adapt quickly.”

Emily frowns, still looking at Spencer. “I feel like there are things everyone deserves to experience, you know? He hasn’t been able to do so many things because he’s achieved so much. I mean, he’s never even dated someone, has he? Did you see the way he handled that witness?”

Morgan bites back the urge to laugh uncontrollably. Earlier in the case, Spencer was interrogating a witness, Morgan, Emily and Gideon watching through the one-way mirror. He recalls the way the woman grabbed hold of Spencer’s patterned tie, twisting the fabric in her fingers with a sly smile. Spencer, the sweetheart he is, had recognised the flirting, but did his best not to mention it, pulling his tie out of her grip multiple times as he stuttered through his questions, until Gideon came in to save him. 

Morgan recognised that for what it was, Spencer’s incredulity that anyone other than you, the person he’s so obsessed with, would ever try something with him. 

But Emily, poor, sweet, Emily, had assumed the same thing the rest of the team had, years ago. That Spencer was nothing more than an inexperienced nervous wreck, that had never even kissed a girl. Morgan shamefully remembers the time he’d been proven wrong of this same assumption.

Emily’s face is so earnest, that Morgan almost doesn’t want to pop the bubble, disturb her impression of Reid. Instead, he just pats her shoulder with the hand not holding his phone.

“Trust me, Prentiss. Reid’s missed a few things, but he’s fine.”

Walking away from her, he remembers that he didn’t hang up the phone, bringing it up to his ear to hear Garcia speaking rapidly, clearly having heard his exchange with Emily.

“-and she doesn’t know! Oh my god, you hunk, wouldn’t that be so good? She’d experience what we did back then and-” Morgan cuts her off. 

“Babygirl, what? I didn’t catch that first bit, who’s going to experience what?”

Garcia takes a deep breath, and Morgan can picture her smile. “Okay, I know you're always thinking, ‘what is the wonderful thing about having the most beautiful and brilliant woman you’ve ever seen in your life?’, and, sweetheart I’ll tell you. It’s that I have a wonderful, wonderful brain, and I have a plan we have to set in motion.”

Derek sighs, but he knows he’s all in before she even says the word. “Alright, princess. Hit me with it.”

Garcia insists that the plan must be unfolded in three stages. Three stages, in order to make sure that Emily’s introduction to you will be just as bewildering as it was to them.

Stage 1: Confirmation. 

Emily’s assumption of Spencer’s inexperience had to be nurtured, demonstrated to her, to lull her into a false sense of security, the way the team had for far too long. 

Morgan and Garcia begin just one week after the case, a paperwork day where the team is confined to the bullpen for hours. Emily is sat at her desk, across the aisle from Morgan’s, when Garcia walks by, a phony excuse for her presence spilling out of her mouth. 

“Just got to drop these files off to Gideon!” She speaks too loudly, to no one in particular, and Morgan groans internally at her unsubtlety. Emily quirks an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t say anything, even when Garcia taps her nose in a very exaggerated manner. 

No time to cover up for her, Morgan’s got work to do, and a time limit to boot.

“So, Prentiss. You’ve had three cases here so far, you’ve gotten to know the team. I wanna know, what are your impressions of all of us?” Emily narrows her eyes at him, but swivels her chair so she’s facing him. Bingo. 

He grins as she leans forward, speaking lightly. “My impressions? What, you want me to profile you guys?” 

He holds up a finger. “Ah ah ah. I’m a profiler too, don’t act like you haven’t been doing that to us since the day we met. Now, tell me. Why don’t you start with, say, Reid?” He winces internally, hearing the eagerness in his voice. Despite that, Emily replies readily.

“Well, I’m probably just going to tell you things you already know. He’s brilliant, insecure, anxious about not only himself but us, worries about his mother all the time. Socially unsure of himself, especially in non-professional settings.” As she speaks, Spencer walks into the bullpen from Gideon’s office, accompanied by Garcia, whose eyes are filled with poorly-contained mischief.

“...and, my good doctor, she was flirting with you! Didn’t you see the way she tried to give you coffee for free?” An expression of puzzlement flits across Spencer’s face, looking at Garcia as he grips the file in his hand. 

“Garcia, why are we talking about this again? That happened weeks ago, and I still don’t think she was doing anything more than-” She cuts him off with a palm facing him, barreling forward with her rant, eyeing Prentiss blatantly as she speaks.

“You never think they’re doing anything more until they’re the ones gripping those little ties of yours. Spencer, you don’t think anyone is ever flirting with you!” Prentiss nods at Morgan, speaking under her breath with a smirk.

“Uncomfortable in non-professional settings, especially romantic ones.” She sits back in her desk chair, swivelling away as Garcia ushers Spencer to his desk, ignoring all of his questions. 

Spencer sits with a huff, confused. He pulls out his phone surreptitiously. 

SPENCE <3: They’re being weird. Again.

Garcia has filled JJ in, and she is ecstatic. She still remembers the horrifying embarrassment that she hadn’t realised something so huge about her best friend. It might be a little juvenile, but it will definitely bring her a little comfort if Emily, profiler extraordinaire, makes the same mistake. 

It’s five days later, and they’ve moved onto the second phase of the plan.

Step 2: Doubt.

Garcia has decided that sowing seeds of confusion, the way the team had been confronted that one time at the bar, was the way to make sure Emily has the full experience of being one-upped by that infuriating man, according to her.

JJ’s role is the whisperer, making sure that Emily witnesses suspicious activity. She’s taking this immensely seriously, Garcia having impressed upon her the responsibility of this guise. 

Walking past Spencer’s desk, she shoots a glance at Emily, confirming her distraction, before speaking into the room, “Everyone had a good day off yesterday? Spence, went to that exhibit at the Living Museum?” 

A dreamy smile flashes over Spencer’s face, before he makes sure to school his features, allowing only a small grin to remain. “Um, yeah. We went to go see the aviary, they’ve got some new Southeast Asian birds in.” Yes. JJ resists the urge to smirk, but her hopes are quickly dashed when Spencer moves on without a word. “I think Gideon would really enjoy it actually, I’ve been meaning to…” She groans internally, tuning out of his meandering ramble about bird migration patterns. There’s no way Emily clocked that tiny ‘we’. 

JJ isn’t one to give up easily, though. Any good plan requires patience, so she waits another day before attempting again.

The team is on the jet on the way to a case, and JJ is sitting strategically at the table with Emily, Derek, Spencer, and Garcia on the grainy laptop screen. Garcia’s hands fly around animatedly as she finishes describing the state of the case. 

Hotch raises his head from the case file, proceeding to assign everyone preliminary tasks, when JJ nods at Garcia subtly, and watches as she begins to rush around her office in a whirl, finally snatching up her cell phone. It’s a wonder that no one else notices the rush of movement on the screen, leaving JJ holding her breath, hoping that Emily or Spencer don’t catch wind. 

Finally, two minutes later, Garcia sits back down at her desk, feigning nonchalance. 

“Yep! Okay, sounds like you guys all have it under control, so— I’m going to go, do my techy things in my techy room. Okay? Garcia out!” 

The image of her disappears from the screen, and JJ grips her mug tightly, fearing that Garcia gave it away. Gideon chuckles, but other than that, it seems that everyone has written it off as a regular Garcia-ism. Thank god. Hotch continues his spiel.

A few seconds later, Spencer’s cell phone rings, the ringtone different from the one everyone is used to hearing when he’s called by one of the team members, but JJ recognizes the 8-bit rendition of Vivaldi’s Summer that you helped him set up for your number.

She can see Emily tilt her head from next to her, but JJ resists the urge to look up, keeping her eyes trained on the case file in her hands, and nodding along with Hotch’s words. 

The sound of Spencer rustling around for his phone meets her ears, and the subtle sigh of happiness that he lets out when he sees the caller ID. The beep of him accepting the call and standing to walk to the kitchenette float through the cabin, and the whispered ‘excuse me’ when he walks into the curtained room.

JJ can almost hear the confusion radiating from Emily, knowing that the newer agent’s utterly baffled at the sight of Spencer missing out on the discussion currently happening.

She can only pat herself on the back for having maneuvered Emily into the seat closest to the kitchenette, too, because the way she stiffens when hearing Spencer’s saccharine-sweet voice say ‘hey, angel’ is just the cherry on top.

JJ whips out her cell phone, texting Garcia discreetly that the plan was a success, receiving a flurry of emojis in return. Unseen, Gideon looks over her shoulder.

In the kitchenette, Spencer furrows his brows, confused. 

“Wait, Garcia told you I needed to talk?” 

Your tinny voice flows through the phone and into his ear. 

“Yeah! She texted and said you asked for me but wouldn’t call for some reason? I don’t know, it was strange. You know I don’t call you when you’re on a case, but I thought it was an emergency or something.” 

He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. 

“I told you, they’re being weird! I asked Morgan what was going on and he just laughed.”

Your matching sigh rings out. “If they’re not going to tell you, I think there’s nothing to do but let it happen until it comes out. They always tell in the end, anyway.”

His shoulders slump in annoyance, but he begins to nod. 

“I guess you’re right. It’s still annoying.”

The case wraps up four long days later, and the team pile into a booth at O’ Keefe’s all in similar states of sleep-deprived delirium. Spencer would much rather be at home right now, but Garcia was persuasive as usual, crooning on about how ‘your ladylove gets you every day, can’t you give us one evening?’. 

Despite his love for the team, their increased strangeness hasn’t abated over the days they were working. 

Even now, JJ, Derek and Penelope sit across from Spencer in the booth, huddled around each other and whispering behind cupped hands. Granted, they weren’t this obvious over the last few days, but their drinks have only weakened their resolve to not let Spencer and Emily in on whatever they’re doing, not broken it. 

Making up his mind to ignore them, Spencer has resorted to leaning into the other end of the booth, chatting idly with Gideon, Hotch and Emily. Hotch is smilier than usual, three beers deep and showing them a seemingly endless amount of baby pictures of Jack from his wallet. 

He can’t help but smile at the grainy photos of the chubby baby, grinning to himself at the memory of the last time he saw Jack. 

He’d been leaving the office to meet you, and ran into Hotch and Haley in the elevator, stroller in tow. The image of you excitedly waving at little Jack, holding out your hand and letting him grip on to your index finger is burned into his brain. He’ll probably never forget it, eidetic memory or not. 

The multiple drinks he’s had allow a lovestruck look to settle on his face as he half-listens to Hotch’s tales. They also make sure that he doesn’t notice the puzzled look that Emily flashes at him, same as the ones she’s been sneaking for days now. 

However, no amount of drinks can let him ignore the strange way that Gideon is acting. The stately profiler is normally rather talkative on nights like these, subtly teasing the team or devolving into long tangents about an old far-fetched story. 

Tonight, however, he’s silent, merely nodding along to Hotch’s words. 

Spencer can’t help but be weirded out, especially when he catches Gideon looking over at him with an expression of repressed mirth, as if he knows something Spencer doesn’t. It’s slightly infuriating, the way it feels as though everyone is keeping things from him these days. 

He knows it’s not exactly the smartest thing to do, but he offers to go to the bar for another round of drinks. If they’re going to be weird, he might as well have something to help tide him over. 

You’re at home when Gideon calls, informing you that Spencer’s gotten more drunk than usual, and it’s probably a good idea that you come get him. 

As you pull on your coat, you can hear Spencer ranting loudly about Rachmaninoff in the background, laughing to yourself when Gideon assures you that he’s fine. 

(Curiously, you hear an unfamiliar voice question Gideon, ‘Who’re you calling?’ before he hangs up.)

Arriving at the dimly lit bar, you crane your neck to try and glimpse Spencer and his coworkers, coming up blank. 

You’re just about to call Gideon again when a suspiciously swaying, lanky individual catches your eye. Sure enough, Spencer is standing by a wall, gripping a glass in both hands and staring into the middle distance, seemingly alone. 

Pocketing your cell phone, you make your way over to him, feeling a familiar infatuated smile start to bloom on your face. 

“Hey, handsome. You here alone?” He blinks rapidly before focusing on you, eyes widening dramatically. 

“You’re here! How are you here, I thought-” He hiccups, the action causing his entire body to wobble, your hand shooting out to steady him. 

“I thought you were at home!” He takes the hand you have on his waist, tugging you closer until he can drape himself against your side, tall frame hunched over you. 

You have to giggle, widening your stance so you can support the two of you as you look around the bar, hoping to find any of his coworkers. 

Unfortunately, you come up blank, assuming they're in the booths towards the back that you can’t see. Sighing, your hand comes up to rub at the nape of his neck, causing Spencer to sigh happily, bending even further so that his face is buried in your hair. 

“Spence, where’s the team? We’ve gotta say goodbye before we go,” You murmur softly, feeling him relax further and further. His voice is higher than normal, muffled due to his refusing to raise his head from yours. 

“I dunno, they’re sitting… somewhere, and Emily said she’d come find me after I came here. Did you know, she listens to Eric Carmen? I was telling her about the lawsuit Rachmaninoff’s estate filed against him, and…” 

He must keep talking, you can feel the vibrations against the crown of your head, but he’s shifted his face to where his mouth is pressed against your scalp, taking with it any hope of understanding his words.

You’re waiting patiently for him to finish, when a dark-haired woman catches your eye. She stands a few feet away from you, peering at you curiously, as if trying to suss something out. Her face is obscured due to the shadowy lights, but she looks vaguely familiar. 

Stopping your ministrations on Spencer’s neck, you entreat him to look up. 

“Hey, do you know who that is?” He raises his head with a heaving sigh, as if it’s taking all his energy. He nods once, before returning his face to your hair, snatching your hand and placing it on the back of his neck again. 

“Yeah, it’s Prentiss.” He falls silent after that, but at least he gave you something. 

You’ve heard a lot about Emily Prentiss from him, although you haven’t had the chance to meet her yet. Waving her over, you smile brightly. 

“Hi! You’re Emily?”

She walks over to you, expression wary, until she catches a proper glimpse of Spencer’s face, at least, what’s visible of it. 

“Reid? It is you…” Her face is bewildered, confused, looking at you. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You stick out the hand that Spencer isn’t holding hostage, shaking hers.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, his girlfriend. It’s really nice to meet you, I’ve heard great things from Spencer and the others.” She looks more stunned, if that’s possible, but stutters out a greeting. 

It reminds you of the time you met the rest of the team, the way they’d stared incredulously at you when Spencer introduced you. Thinking back to Penelope’s multiple texts confirming that you weren’t coming tonight, it seems you’ve figured out why they’ve been acting weird.

You can’t help but smile pityingly at her, knowing how she’s feeling. Gesturing at the man clinging on to you, you give her an out from the conversation.

“I think I should be taking him home. Would you mind telling the rest where we went? I don’t want them to worry.”

She nods wordlessly, watching after you as you slowly lead Spencer out of the bar and into the night. 

SSA Emily Prentiss is a profiler. A spy. She’s accustomed to learning everything there is to know about an individual within a few days of knowing them. It’s for these reasons that she stands, dumbstruck, in the middle of O’ Keefe’s. 

Spencer Reid has a girlfriend. And she didn’t figure it out??

She resolves to go back through the profiling notes she’d taken in her time at the academy. Maybe twice. 

Shuffling back to the booth, she’s stuck in her head, eyes wide and thoughts flickering at ten times their normal speed. It’s clearly noticeable, Derek looking concerned when she slides into her seat once more. 

“Prentiss? Are you okay?”

She reaches out to snag her beer, turning the glass in her hand. Her voice is low, still confused as to how she missed it. 

“Spencer’s girlfriend came to take him home.”

Her words incite identically incredulous squawks from JJ, Morgan and Garcia, all of them incensed. 

“You met her? She wasn’t going to come tonight, we had a plan!” Penelope exclaims in frustration, looking around the table. 

Gideon merely shrugs, his amused half-smile finally emerging. 

“Plan took too long. Took it into my own hands.”

Morgan has to hold Penelope back from lunging at him.

[dfstolenart]

Oh baby | Criminal Minds

.・゜✭・. Spencer Reid x F!Reader .・゜✭・.

Summary: you and Spencer unexpectedly become parents despite not being together officially

A/N: This is probs my fav fic I’ve written, so far. Hope you guys love it<3 lmk your thots:D also not proof-read I just wanted to get something posted.

BYR(b4 u Reid): Kind of a situationship?, nervous and scared Reid | kissing lol <- [warnings]

You woke up feeling absolutely miserable, maybe even worse than a hangover. A wave of nausea hit you hard, sending you rushing to your bathroom.

Dropping to your knees in front of your toilet, you barely had a second to catch your breath before you started throwing up, your stomach twisting with each heave “gross” you muttered

Flushing the toilet, and brushing your teeth you run to your alarm reading the time 7:30 am

Thirty minutes before you had to be at your desk

You throw on something work-appropriate but comfortable, not having energy to put much effort into your appearance after the rough start to your morning

As you walk towards the door, your eyes flicker to your calendar. Something makes you pause, and you decide to check it

A sinking feeling settles into your stomach when you see it’s around the time you’re supposed to start your cycle, but you quickly brush it off not wanting to stress yourself out even more

Cycles change all the time you convinced yourself it was just happening to you

As soon as the elevator doors opened, you hurried out, making a beeline for your desk.

“Just in time.” Spencer noted as you arrived

“I was worried I was going to be late.”

“You had exactly one minute to spare.” He held up a cup of coffee “I picked it up on the way.”

You took the cup but eyed him skeptically before grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards a quieter corner, his brows furrowed in confusion

“It’s a nice gesture, really,” you said as you lifted up the cup “But this looks a little suspicious.”

“Getting you coffee is suspicious?” He questioned

You sighed “I just don’t want the team in our business. They’re already catching on, and I’d rather keep this between us.”

He considered that for a moment before nodding “If it helps, I’ll buy Derek coffee tomorrow to throw them off.” He suggested

You couldn’t help but smile “you’re annoying.”

Spencer chuckled, then, to your surprise, laced his fingers with yours “you know.” He said matter of factly “If anything looks suspicious, it’s you pulling me somewhere private for a conversation.”

You nodded agreeing with him “You’re right.” and with that you let go of his hand “I’ll talk to you later.” you say as you walk away from the tall gorgeous man

You’d be lying if you said you didn't miss the way your fingers felt together or the sounds that leave his mouth when he laughs

It was like music to your ears

You know you shouldn't feel that way since what you guys have isn’t official, and you didn’t want to get hurt.

A few days have passed and it was like each day was worser than the last, now it was headaches, fatigue, nausea all creeping in at the worst moments

But you're convinced its just a bug, between the stress of the last case you and your team did and the lack of sleep it makes sense that your body is shutting down

Except, your girl friends at the BAU don't believe that one bit

“Geez, you look pale.” JJ says as she leans against your desk, arms crossed “And she’s been running to the bathroom a lot.” Emily joins in

You wave them off “I'm just coming down with something”

“Yeah that's what you said yesterday, and the day before.” Penelope recalls “What is this an intervention?” you question

“Nope, just your friends worried about you.” JJ says as she shared a knowing look with Emily and Pen

“It’s nothing.” you assured them

“Hey, I brought you some tea.” Spencer says as he joins the group, setting a cup down in front of you. His eyes scan your face with concern “you look sick.”

Your stomach twists at his comment “Do I really look that bad?” you ask feeling a bit insecure

Spencer's eyes widen slightly, he stumbles on his words “No-no, not bad. I just meant… you seem unwell. That's all.”

Emily smirks, shaking her head “Way to go, Dr. Reid.” she grabs her files and walks off

JJ gives you a sympathetic look as she stands “And that's our cue to leave. Come on, Penelope.” Garcia leans in as she follows JJ “Feel better sunshine.” she says before disappearing down the hall

Spencer shifts on his feet “I’m sorry. I shouldn't of had said it like that.”

You sigh, feeling guilty for your reaction “It’s okay. I’m just feeling extra sensitive today. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”

He studies you for a moment, then lowers his voice “Have you thought about seeing a doctor? You've been sick for awhile now.”

You shake your head quickly “It’s not that serious.” but Spencer doesn't look convinced “Well…If you need anything, I'm right here.

You offer him a smile “Thanks, Spence.”

As he walks away, you stare at the tea he left behind. The more you think about it, the more unease settles in your chest. What if this isn’t just a stomach bug? What if it’s something worse.

And worse than that, what if you’re right?

As soon as lunch rolled around, you grabbed JJ, Emily, and Penelope by the arms “Come with me. Now.”

“Where are we going?” Garcia asked, eyeing you curiously “A store.” You hesitated, lowering your voice “I need a test.”

All three of them stopped in their tracks, wide eyed “Like a test test?” JJ asked, eyebrows raised, you nodded the fear in your eyes answering for you

“Okay.” Emily said already walking “Let’s go.”

“Wouldn’t you want to do this with…you know, whoever might’ve done this?”

“Uh, no. He’s busy.” You said quickly, leading them toward the exit, but just as you reached the door, Morgan and Spencer appeared

“Hey, where are you guys headed?” Morgan asked “Yeah, I thought we were all getting lunch at Caesars.” Spencer added, Rossi standing beside him

JJ reacted fast “We’re getting medicine for y/n” Spencer frowned “Oh I can come. I know which one will work best.”

“No, no, no, we got it.” Garcia said quickly waving him off Spencer narrowed his eyes, clearly sensing something was off, but eventually nodded “Alright. See you later.”

The four of you bolted out the door.

Inside the store, you stood frozen in front of all the pregnancy test selections, overwhelmed.

“Why are there so many?” You groaned, scanning the shelves “These are easy to read.” JJ said, grabbing a Clear Blue and handing it to you

You grimaced “Do I have to put it on the register?”

Emily snorted “You literally profile murderers for a living, but you’re scared to purchase a pregnancy test?”

“No wonder you might be pregnant” Garcia teased “Were you too scared to buy condoms too?”

You shot them a glare “Hilarious.”

JJ rolled her eyes and grabbed the test from your hand “I’ll put it down.” you sighed in relief “Thank you.”

At the register, you all smiled stiffly at the cashier as he rang it up. He barely acknowledged you guys, but that didn't stop you from feeling widely judged.

Back at the BAU, the four of you rushed to the restroom.

“Pee on the stick, wait five minutes, and we’ll either celebrate or cry.” JJ instructed “Your call.”

You exhaled, feeling like you were preparing for battle “Alright.” Stepping into the stall, you did what you had to do, then set the rest down on the counter, turning it away from you

“Timer is set.” Garcia announced, your heart pounded, you knew what the results was going to be, and that terrified you more than anything

The four of you sat in silence on the restroom floor, gross, but none of you cared right now. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air

“Time’s up.” Garcia finally said glancing at you with concern, you swallowed hard “I can't look.”

“Want us to?” Emily offered you nodded “Please”

JJ picked it up first. The three of them leaned in, their expressions unreadable. Then, without a word JJ handed it to you

Your hands trembled as you looked down

Pregnant

Your heart dropped, and a lump formed in your throat, but you refused to break. Not here, not now. Instead, you slowly nodded, forcing out a breath “okay”

“So…is this good or bad?” Garcia asked, studying your face, you opened your mouth, then closed it “I don't know.” you admit

“Are you going to tell him?” JJ asked gently, you nodded “eventually.”

Emily places a reassuring hand on your shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze “We’ll give you time to process, when you're ready, we’re here.”

Each of them gives you a small, comforting smile before slipping out of the restroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling

“Why? Why? Why?” you whispered to yourself

This wasn't just about you.

This was about Spencer.

Your coworker.

A man you weren't even in a relationship with.

How the hell were you going to tell him?

You stepped out the restroom, exhausted and ready to be anywhere but here. Your body felt heavy, your mind even more so. All you wanted was to crawl into bed and shut the world out.

“Hey! We’re still on for tonight?”

The familiar voice made you stop in your tracks. Of course it was Spencer.

“Tonight?” You frowned, genuinely confused

He gave you a puzzled look “Movie night? At my place? Like it has been every Friday for the past six months?”

“Oh…right.” You let out an awkward laugh, and rubbed the back of your neck “Sorry, I’m just- are you sure you want me there? I don’t want to get you sick.” You say even though you knew what you had wasn’t contagious

“I’ll be fine.” He said with a small smile “I can disinfect everything.”

You hesitated before nodding “then, I’ll be there.” “Great.”

Silence settled between you two, he looked at you like he knew something was off, and part of you wanted to just say it right then and there.

“Well, I should get back to my files.” You said quickly making an excuse to leave.

Before you could slip away, he gently grabbed your hand “Are you sure you’re alright?” His voice was quieter now, more concerned.

“Yes, Spencer, I’m fine.” You forced a reassuring smile, but his eyes searched yours unconvinced

“Did I…do something?”

“What? No!” Your stomach knotted at the thought of him blaming himself “why would you think that?”

He hesitated “Just how you’ve been acting recently, I want to know if it’s because of me.”

You sighed, squeezing his hand before pulling away “It’s not you, I promise.”

He nodded but the uncertainty was still there “Okay.”

With that, you turned and walked back to your desk, diving into your files, forcing yourself to focus. For a couple hours, it worked. You got lost in the work, grateful for the temporary escape— until a voice whispered right into your ear

“So… who’s the father?”

You jumped, nearly knocking over your coffee “Jesus Garcia.” She grinned unapologetically “Sorry, did I scare the baby?”

You glared at her “No, you scared me.” She leaned in closer “Can I take a guess?”

You gave her a warning look “You don’t know him.”

Garcia scoffed “Sweetie, I know this guy. Anyone with a pair of eyes can tell just by the way you two interact. You guys are getting it on.”

Your face burned “Penelope.”

She wiggled her eyebrows “So, it is who I think it is.” You sighed, lowering your voice “You have to keep this a secret. Please.”

She immediately sobered, nodding “Of course, but you are telling him, right?”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Spencer who was talking to Hotch across the room “Yeah.”

“I’m happy for you guys, no matter what you choose to do.” Garcia said warmly you gave her a small grateful smile

“Thank you. I just- I don’t know what to do. I know my options, obviously, but I don’t think I can go through with that. But at the same time, I don’t want to do this if Spencer isn’t ready. I don’t want to hold him back.”

Garcia shook her head “Look, he loves you. It’s so obvious the little things he does for you, the way he talks about you when you aren’t around. He is going to be ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, looking down at your hands “we’re not even together.” The admission felt embarrassing, like it somehow made everything worse

“Honey, you know Spencer. It takes him awhile, but he’ll come around to making it official. He’s just scared.” You exhaled leaning back into your chair

“Yeah…maybe.”

“not maybe— definitely” she corrected “Just give him time.”

The work day ended, and you had finally returned home, you threw yourself on your bed still in your work clothes but too lazy to change

You laid there deep in your thoughts until you drifted off to sleep

You weren’t sure how long you had been out but there was knocking at your door that woke you

You looked through the hole and seen it was Spencer, he looked worried “Spencer?” You question as you open the door allowing him to enter

“I was calling, you never answered. I got worried.” He tells you as he looks at you scanning to make sure you were alright “I fell asleep, I’m so sorry.” You apologize “no it’s okay. I’m just happy you’re safe.”

“Today was exhausting.” You admitted. He gave you a look of understanding “Can I do anything to help?”

Your cheeks warmed at the sincerity in his voice. He was always quick to offer whatever he could “No, it’s alright.”

“Are you sure? I give great massages.” He teased, a small smirk playing on his lips, you let out a small laugh “I’m sure, Spencer. How about we just watch a movie?”

He nodded, clearly liking the idea “what are you in the mood for?”

You thought for a moment. After everything today, you just wanted something comforting, something that reminded you of simpler times

“The Fox and the Hound.”

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft smile “That’s a good one.”

“Can you set it up while I change?” You asked “of course.” Spencer replied without hesitation

You stepped into your room, closing the door behind you. As you emptied your pockets your fingers brushed against the pregnancy test. You sighed, staring at it for a moment before tucking it away in your nightstand drawer

Once you had changed into something more comfortable, you walked back out, expecting to see Spencer in the living room but he wasn’t there. You glanced around and spotted him in the kitchen.

“I decided we needed popcorn.” He casually said as he poured some into a bowl “That’s a good idea.” You smiled

Settling on the couch, you grabbed the remote as Spencer joined you, sitting down beside you with the bowl in hand.

You pressed play and it didn’t take long for you to immersive yourself in the familiar comfort of the movie

The movie held your full attention, so much so that you barely noticed every time your hand brushed against Spencer's in the popcorn bowl.

It had always been your favorite movie as a kid, but now watching it while being pregnant, it felt different.

Then came the scene, the scene that always broke your heart as a child and even now as an adult

The little old lady drives off in her car, away from the Fox leaving him in the woods to be free. It felt like it hit you harder then ever before, and suddenly you couldn’t hold back the tears

Spencer turned his head, noticing the way your shoulders shook “Are you crying?” He asked softly “no.” You lied even as you wiped at your cheeks

You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, trying to play it off. Spencer shook his head, shifting to face you. Without a word, he reached out, gently brushing away a stray tear “Hey, it’s alright. It’s a sad scene.” he agreed

Your eyes met his “I think I could use that massage now.” a small smile played on his lips “I think you could too.”

You turned around, away from his gaze, and pulled your hair to the side giving him full access to your back. His hands found your shoulders, pressing in firmly. The tension in your muscles melted under his touch.

“You’re tense.” He murmured. You sighed, eyes fluttering shut “that feels good.”

“So, what’s been on your mind?” He asked your eyes snapped open “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been really stressed lately, today especially. You told me it’s not me, so… what is it?”

You hesitated, knowing this was the moment. You couldn’t keep avoiding it.

“Spencer.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper, his hands stilled “yeah?”

You turned to face him, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. His stomach dropped, he didn’t know what you were about to say.

“Hold on.” You murmured, quickly getting up. You rushed to your room, grabbing the test from your nightstand. When you returned, Spencer was watching you carefully, his brows furrowed in concern

You sat down, heart pounding “I have something to show you.” You say as you hold out the test to him, Spencer took it hesitantly, his eyes scanning the results

His lips parted slightly “oh.”

That single word terrified you

You weren’t sure what he was thinking.

Spencer on the other hand, his mind was racing so fast he couldn’t form a single coherent thought. His fingers tightened around the plastic stick.

“Say something.” You say as you watch him intently, his head snapped up, eyes wide, searching yours as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces “You’re…pregnant.” He said

You nodded “yeah.”

Spencer swallowed hard, looking back down at the test, then back to you “it’s mines..right?” He questioned hopeful that you wouldn’t have been with anyone else “of course it’s yours.” You said quickly, feeling a strange mix of emotions, offense, anxiety, fear.

“Right. No, I-i didn’t mean it like that, I just-” he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he tried to process “This is…a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Spencer went quiet again, his mind clearly catching up to reality.

And then, finally, he looked at you “How are you feeling?” He softly asked “I don’t know. Scared, overwhelmed.” You admitted

Spencer nodded and reached for your hand, taking it in his, it felt warm and grounding.

Spencer hesitated for a moment before taking his hand away and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper. He held it up between you.

“I’ve been carrying this around for a while.” He admitted “It’s a list… of all the reasons I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Your breath caught “Spence-”

“I’m not finished.” He said quickly, his eyes pleading with you to let him get it all out “I’ve been planning to tell you for so long. Too long. I should’ve said something the moment I realized it was you.”

You just stared at him, heart pounding, and he cleared his throat “I even calculated the probability of a successful relationship based on compatibility factors and shared interests.” He let out a small, nervous laugh

That made you smile. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a soft squeeze

“I want to be with you.” He said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable “But don’t say yes because of the baby. Say yes because you want me the way I want you.”

His eyes searched yours “say something?” He whispered, you swallowed hard, then nodded towards the paper “Can I read it?”

Relief washed over his face as he handed it to you without hesitation “You just carry it around?”

He nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at his lips “It reminds me of you. So even when you’re not with me, it still feels like you are.”

Your chest ached, and you smiled at him with tears in your eyes “I want to be with you.” You say

Spencer had never felt anything like this before, it was overwhelming in the best way, pure happiness, the kind he never thought he’d get to have.

Despite the fear of the unknown, he knew one thing for certain, he was happy it was you he was going to experience this with.

He pulled you into him, the embrace feeling both familiar and new. This time, there was no more unspoken words, no more uncertainty. Just the two of you, together, exactly as you were meant to be

“So…do the girls know?” He asked, remembering how strangely they all had been acting at lunch, you nodded “They were with me when I found out.”

Spencer exhaled, his eyes softening “I wish I had been there.”

“I know.” You murmured guilt tugging at your chest “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head “I just, I don’t want to miss anything. Not with you, not with this baby. Every doctors visit, every sick day, every moment, I want to be there.”

His sincerity made your heart ache in the best way “I want you to be there too.”

His fingers gently tilted your chin before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It was soft, and lingering.

When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, asking for more, you gave in without hesitation.

After he pulled away, he smiled, his eyes full of wonder “I can’t wait to see you grow.” You brushed a hand over his cheek, returning his smile “I can’t wait to see you become the best dad.”

Should I make this into a mini series ? Where the next part can be them telling the team? 🤭

[kindaasrikal]

Hold onto me if you must, a blade that rusts.

Sorry guys i cant hold back the rant my art posts always have i yap too much

Anyways an alt colour and silly version (and now ANOTHER alt version because I’m indecisive)

They so silly look at them they definitely wont murder each other <3

I spent a time amount of time on it that should’ve felt long but didn’t, i had way too much fun with the fill in lasso tool that made my life easier when i had no idea where to go after the sketch. And how to do the line-art for it, my God the amount of times i suffer when at that phase.

If I’m being perfectly honest, i think this is okay, but i’m not entirely sure if it’s good. Like i feel like it could be sm better. Anyways i just remembered exactly why i did this drawing and its because my amazing mutual @rusted-fairy-wings sent an ask on my birthday to draw possessed Kai and this is the result omg thank you sm for that its like you slapped me with the realisation i’ve never drawn them like this before. I know its not really possessed Kai but i hope it gives the same vibes 😭

Ehehehhe i feel like a cool pro posting a little coloured quote with my art damn

Also i took the rust thing because, you knowwww, Kai was a blacksmith and fire can cause rust. And i think if Morro were to possess Kai, that guy would put in so much effort to ruin himself so Morro wouldn’t and couldn’t use him as a tool. Especially with such a huge loss of control as a man who is so used to being in control with everything he’s been through. But thats why i used ‘hold onto me’ rather than ‘hold me’, because Morro would either gain entertainment from Kai’s suffering, would feel some sort of kinship with Kai due to their similar (yet differing) circumstances, or because he knows how to use Kai in the state he had forced himself into against the ninja.

Okay i’ll stop yapping take this i’ll run away now

Edit: okay im gonna edit and change the colours and positioning for this in the morning so look out for that 😭

Edit: okayyyy ive changed the colours and positioning a bit in a new ver but im scared it looks bad now so i refuse to touch this again anyways

[peachway]

My Fault (Lando's version <3)

✦ characters - fem!reader x Lando Norris ✦ warnings - mention of drugs, bit violence and little blood                    ✦ word count - 4.1k

A/N - I do not own the plot and except for few, all the characters belong to Mercedes Ron. The London Nick has my heart and he's literally Lando Norris so I decided to write a My Fault: Lando's version <33 I have changed the plot just a tiny bit. And in the series i have a used nickname for the FEM OC, 'FRESA'. happy reading ✨                                                                

Third Person’s POV -

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and blueberry muffins filled the air as Charlotte platted everything with beautiful flowers. She wanted to make breakfast for her daughter all by herself. She knew Fresa was going through a tough time after her recent breakup, and Charlotte was determined to help her daughter heal and move on.

With a warm smile, Charlotte carried a steaming mug of coffee into upstairs, where her daughter was curled up on her bed, lost in her thoughts. The sight of her little girl made her heart ache.

"Hey, sweetheart," Charlotte greeted softly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and a faint smile touched her lips as she saw her mother, "I'm fine mom. I called Theo but he didn't pick." she sniffs.

"Oh it's okay, it's just a little break. This happens in long distance." Charlotte said stroking her hair

"Why does it feel like we have broken up?"

"It's going to be fine, give it a little time." Charlotte soothes her, "Now come on, breakfast is ready."

"Mom, I'm not hungry," Fresa said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Come on, baby," Charlotte coaxed, her voice soft but firm. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

"Just the coffee is fine," Fresa replied, retreating further into the cocoon of her blankets.

"I have a surprise for you," Charlotte offered, her smile widening, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

"Come join me downstairs." She said.

Fresa finally agreeing slowly got out of bed and followed her mother downstairs.

"Oh wow these muffins are really good."

On the kitchen island was Fresa's bestest cousin, Chloe.

"Chloe!!" Fresa screamed, her face lighting up with immense joy. She ran and threw herself into Chloe's arms, the two girls hugging tightly, their laughter filling the room.

"Surprise!" Chloe giggled.

The joyous reunion then settled into a comfortable hum, all sat down for breakfast.

"Wow mom you made everything?" Fresa smiled, impressed by the efforts.

"I can cook you know!" Charlotte laughed.

"I did made the muffins...I well helped with the batter." she admits and to that everyone chuckles.

"So baby I was thinking," she began, "Chloe is here for 3 days. So you both can go wherever you like, whatever you want to do, you can go crazy....and since it's your vacations, you can go to London with Chloe."

"London?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Yes. You know to see your dad." she said.

"Mom?" Fresa protested because her and her father's relationship wasn't in very good terms.

"You love Chloe right. Dad loves you too. I know he's done some stuff but he loves you baby." Charlotte says, "And you can also surprise Theo!"

"I don't know mom." she mumbled, taking a bite out of croissant from her plate.

"It'll be fun." she encouraged.

Fresa was initially hesitant, eventually agree. She did need some fresh air. And above that, she wanted to surprise Theo so bad.

Just as they landed Chloe informs that her dad had to go out on an important meeting and he was out of state and it brought a sigh of relief to Fresa. She still had to face him via FaceTime, however.

"Flight was alright, princess?" Clifford asked, his image flickering on the screen.

"Yes Dad." she replied.

"I'm out of town so stay with your sister for some time hmm?" he said, "I'll be there in few days."

"Okay." she replied.

"Call me if you any problem at all okay?" Clifford smiles. "Yes daddy." she nods.

"Chloe.." Clifford calls out.

"Take care of her. I don't want her to be involved with those guys. You Understand?" He warned.

"Understood uncle." she smiled.

"What was that about?" Fresa asked as soon as the call ended.

"Nothing." she dismissed.

"Listen baby, my boyfriend and I have take some time off work and are we currently living in one his villa near the forest."

"Okayy.." Fresa nods.

"So I'm gonna take you there. But please don't tell this to your dad. Please I request you." Chloe says.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because my boyfriend's father is kind of a rival to your dad and it's very messy. So please.." said Chloe.

"It's okay it's fine." she nodded.

Within an hour they had reached the beautiful villa. It was too perfect, mesmerising and straight out of a fairy tale. The modern white architecture blended seamlessly with the verdant darkness of the surrounding forest. Inside, the air was cool and subtly perfumed with the scent of flowers.

The first thing Fresa noticed was a framed photograph hanging on the wall in the living room: Two boys, standing on a race track against a race car. She could see the intensity in their eyes.

"Is nobody home?" she asked as only the butlers were present.

"Well, Liam is at work, and I think his brother might be in his room." Chloe replied, He's a dick. Don't fight with him,"

"Why would I?" Fresa raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't particularly have a good influence. He's a good guy, but don't get too involved with him, okay?" "Okay." she nods.

"You can change and relax a bit, then we'll go somewhere nice in the evening." She said removing a strand of hair from Fresa's cheek.

"Can I just go to my room and disappear with my books?" Fresa said.

"No absolutely not. I won't leave you in here like a gremlin rat." Chloe laughed.

Y/n puts on her bathing suit and decides of read her favourite book by the nice warm sun. She sat by the edge of the pool, her bare feet dangling in the water. She opened her book, the gentle breeze rustling the pages, it was very peaceful and soothing. She felt a little good after months.

But her calm thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, explosive splash in the water. The splash drenching her and the book. She glances over to see a grinning idiot in the water.

"Sorry!" he called out.

He propelled himself towards the edge. His broad shoulders slick with water. Dark, wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, and the sun gave his skin a golden hue. But his eyes— were the prettiest blend of green and blue.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"This is my house. Who are you?" he countered, hoisting himself out a little. The water cascaded down his hair.

Fresa’s eyes narrowed. "Either you're Liam or his...dickhead brother."

"Lando," he said, the grin widening. "The dickhead brother. I was told you were coming. Not so nice to meet you?"

"Fresa," she replied, with a curt nod.

"Wow worse than I imagined." He laughs to himself.

"Why were you on the swimming pool edge if you didn't wanted to get wet." he asked.

"I just wanted to read and now you ruined my favorite book." she said as water dripped from pages.

Lando's grin only widened. He came a little closer, "Come on, Fresa, lighten up. It's a pool, meant for swimming, not sunbathing with literary casualties."

The tension was broken by the sound of the back door sliding open. Liam and Chloe emerged, hand in hand.

"I get you two have met?" Liam chuckled, glancing at Lando. "Fresa, this is Liam, my boyfriend." Chloe introduced.

"Hi!" she smiles backed.

"Well her name is actually y/n but we call her Fresa since she was 2 because she loved strawberries.." Chloe explained.

"Strawberries seriously." Lando snorted.

"And that is my asshole brother." Liam chuckles with a playful jab at Lando.

"Are you done?" Lando sneered and dives back into the water.

Later at the brunch table Liam and Chloe discussed about the next plans since Fresa had come to spent her vacations there. Lando sat across from her, his wet hair now dried and curled, framing his face. He looked at her taking a bite of toast and smiled. Fresa rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him, and focused on her omelette.

"So we can go out for a nice dinner tonight." Liam suggested.

"Oh no listen bro tonight-" Lando began, but Liam cut him off, "No! Anna is coming today. You're not going anywhere."

"Who's Anna?" Fresa asked.

"His girlfriend." Chloe teases.

"Thank you for answering" Lando smiles mockingly.

"Lando you can't run from it. We're going out, dinner at 7. And you can't leave the house till then." Liam ordered.

"You're not dad." Lando retorted, standing up and leaving the table.

The evening approached and everybody was ready to go out. Fresa went with Liam and Chloe whereas Lando went separately in his McLaren. Fresa was nesteled in back seat, imagining Theo face when she’ll surprises him tomorrow and about all the things they’ll do together. It was cheery drive. But the good time was limited. Fresa receives a text from her friend who was in London, attached were the photos of Theo kissing another girl. Fresa's head started hurting and she couldn't control her tears as they overflowed her eyes. She didn't wanted to ruin the mood so she didn't say anything to anybody.

After reaching the restaurant Fresa tried to be composed and to stop her emotions but she failed. She stared at the menu, the fancy letters unreadable to her.

"Chloe?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Just then, Lando's phone rang, a sharp chime that cut through the restaurant's soft murmur. He excused himself and moved away from the table.

"Yes, baby?" Chloe asked "Can I go home?" she said.

"Is everything alright? You don't look good." asked Liam. "Just a headache," Fresa lied,"Can we please do this dinner later?"

Chloe squeezed her hand, her touch comforting. "Of course, no problem. I'll call you a uber." Her eyes, though, were sharp, searching. "But if there's anything at all, you can tell me, okay?"

Lando returned, his expression tight. "Listen, Liam... I have to go." "Where?" Liam asked.

"Work," Lando replied. "I swear to god, if you're again going to that bloody—" Liam began, but he cuts him off, "No, this is important. It's Lion. He called, he wants to meet at his place."

"Okay, go." Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly, "Wait, take her too," Liam ordered, gesturing towards Fresa.

"No. She can go by herself!" Lando shook his head.

"Lando!" Liam sighs.

"She's your girlfriend's sister, your problem not mine." He argued.

"Come on Lion's place is on the way to our home...go drop her home, then you can go wherever you want." Liam insisted.

"Fine." Lando rolled his eyes, "Come." he said to Fresa, his tone rather rough, offering no comfort, only a means to an end. The night, which had started good was now a mess of broken trust and forced companionship.

The silence in the car stretched. A little uncomfortable, as Lando sped away from the restaurant.

"So you like racing?" Fresa asked to break the silence.

"I loved it. Me and Liam both," Lando replied.

"That picture.." she said, remembering the photograph on the wall.

"It’s me and Liam. We used to go karting and racing together." Lando nodded.

"You don't go anymore?" she asked.

"No, I left. He made me." a shadow passed over Lando's face, "My dad." he said.

"Your dad?" Fresa looked at him.

"Please don’t talk about him. I don't talk about my dad," he said, his voice clipped.

"Why are you getting all prickly and irritated. Such a Typical spoiled brat." she said.

Lando's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. The car swerved slightly, and Fresa braced herself. "What did you just say?" His voice was low. "Aren't you a spoiled brat too? Doesn't talk to Daddy but is still here to meet him. She hates him but loves his money." He said.

"You know nothing about me," she said, her voice a low, tremor.

"You know nothing about me either. Yet you judged me. I'm not a spoiled kid" he countered.

"Okay leave it. I don’t know what I just said." Fresa gave up.

"Is this your way of apologising? Because you're terrible at it." Lando scoffed, the bitterness clinging to his tongue.

"Why should I apologise? I've been told you're a dick and you're kinda proving that right now." she said.

"You're the one who started it," he snapped.

"I told you to drop it," she hissed.

"I would have if you had simply just apologised." said Lando.

"I'm not apologising." Fresa glares.

"Get out." he suddenly says, his voice cold and flat.

"What?" Fresa stared at him.

"I said, get out of my car," he repeated, his eyes fixed on the road. "I'm not taking you home."

He pulled the car to the side of the road.

"You're not serious?" Fresa's eyes widened.

"Dead serious," he said, his voice hard. "Get out."

They were far from the city, on a dark, deserted stretch of highway.

Fresa glares him, she gets out of the car and slammed the car door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet night. Lando drives away leaving her all alone.

He rushed through the dimly lit streets. The roads seemed the type where all the illegal shit happens. He reached at the location and pulled up beside the Camaro there. Lion was slumped in the driver's seat, his face pale and streaked with blood. "What the hell happened to you?" Lando growled, his voice tight with anger.

Lion's palms were sweaty, his eyes wide with fear. "Nothing, man, I tripped. But forget that, I have a bigger issue!" He held up a medium-sized package, his hands trembling. "My brother told me to deliver it here and told me not to open it, but I'm an idiot. It's cocaine!"

"What the hell Lion! If you wanted money, you could've just asked me. Why are you doing these kind of things?" Lando cursed, his frustration boiling over.

"Forget about that, man, help me out now!" Lion pleaded, his voice cracking. "Don't go in there then," Lando said, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the pub.

"They'll kill me, Lando!" Lion cried, his voice laced with panic. "Well what do you want me to do?" Lando asked, his patience wearing thin.

"Come with me, I will mess things up! I need some support," Lion replied, his eyes pleading. "No!" Lando shook his head

"Okay, let's go back home. The person I was supposed to deliver this will come after me because this is worth 1 lakh pounds! And I will die just because you didn't come with him there!" Lion said, his voice rising in desperation. "God, you're so dramatic. Okay, Fine." Lando sighed.

Just as they were about to go in Fresa slid into the back seat of the car. "What the hell are you doing here?" The already angry Lando snapped.

"I left my phone in your car!" she countered, a simple shrug dismissing his expressions.

Lion, perched back. "That's your new girlfriend?"

"Shut up!" Lando retorted, his face flushing. "I had called you a cab and rather than going home you followed me?"

"Yes. I had the location on so it was pretty easy." she replied.

"You could have waited for me to come back home!" he scoffed.

"You irritated me so much, now I’ll irritate you. What are you doing here anyways?" She asked.

"We need to go—" Lion began, but Lando cut him off with a sharp glare. "This isn't a game, Fresa. You need to leave. Now." he ordered.

"No" she replied with a hint of defiance.

"Ugh, my god. Okay, stay in the car. We'll be out in a few minutes," Lando said but was she going to listen? No.

While Lando and Lion disappeared into the dimly lit back room to deal with Ronnie, Fresa, alone, wandered to the front of the club. She tried to blend into the shadows, but Ronnie's brother, Robert, had already fixed his gaze on her. He slid into the seat beside her,

"Hi" he greeted.

She doesn't say anything, just smiles back.

"Not much of a talker I see."

"Drink?" He said pushing over a gin to her.

With the anger over Theo she gulped it down without thinking much.

Meanwhile, in the back room, tensions were escalating. Ronnie had discovered a discrepancy in the weight of the package Lion had delivered.

"It's opened," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Dunno. I just delivered it as it got," Lion stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"It's missing 100gms ," Ronnie said, placing the package on a scale.

"Come on man it's just 100?" Lando said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You know how much it costs? That's gonna cost me thirteen thousand pounds," he glared.

"Thirteen thousand??" Lando repeated, his eyes widening.

"It's uncut. Pure." Ronnie said, "now I need my money."

"Fine. I'll get the money to you by tomorrow," Lando retorted, trying to maintain a composure.

"Tomorrow?" Ronnie shook his head.

"Look I can't just magically get that kind of cash okay? There's a limit on the ATM." Lando argued, frustration taking over him.

"Alright, fine. Go," Ronnie nodded, his eyes still holding a threat.

Lando and Lion sighed in relief, eager to escape. They hurried back to the front of the club only to see Fresa stumbling towards the exit door with Robert’s arm draped around her shoulder.

Lando ran over and pushes him away.

"Easy there boy" Robert yelled.

"Fresa!" Lando called. He cupped her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek.

"She's a beauty isn't she." Robert smiled smugly.

"Fresa, look at me," Lando said, his concern growing into a burning fear.

"Lan..." she slurred, her words barely coherent. One drink couldn't do that and as far as Robert's reputation goes, he definitely drugged her.

"Here." Lando carefully lifted her onto a nearby table. Then, he turned to face Robert and his goons, his eyes a cold, unwavering stare.

"What?" Robert sneered.

With a swift, brutal movement, Lando's punch landed Robert's face. When the first blow didn't bring the man down, he struck again, this time breaking his nose. The guy falls down on the ground with the force and the temperature in the room rises.

Robert wastes no time in giving the fist back to Lando. From then it all became a chaos. Ronnie came to the front and joined in the fight. Everyone started hitting each other like crazy, they'd hit with whatever is nearby, the glasses, alcohol bottles, chairs and what not.

Nobody touched Fresa. She was just sitting in the corner, not understanding what was actually happening in front of her. When she saw a woman pointing a knife at Lando's back, she quickly grabbed a glass from the table and breaks it onto her head.

"You bitch!" The woman shouts. She slashes Fresa in her stomach and Fresa punches her back, both fell down to the ground fighting further.

"FRESA!" Lando yells as he tries to fight off Ronnie.

Suddenly faint siren could be heard outside and it wasn't long before the cops got there.

"POLICE, STAND DOWN!" The officers barge in with guns.

They got hold of Lando, Lion and Fresa and some others but Ronnie and Robert had slid out the back door. "Damn you officer, those goons ran away." Lando cussed.

"Lando Norris, you are enough for us." The officer said snapping handcuffs around his wrists.

This was bad. He was trying to get way from these types things as much as he can and now Fresa was a part of this too. She was trapped in a war she didn't understand. He needed to get her out of this. He needed to fix this. Ronnie already hated Lando and he surely won't let this slide.

As soon as they reached the station, Lando reached out to his lawyer friend, Anna. And secured their release by the following afternoon. Lando decided it was best for Fresa to stay away from her home right now so he took her back to his villa.

Fresa cleans up and sat on the kitchen island, her head pounding, her stomach churning. The aftereffects of the drug were still lingering, blurring her thoughts and making it difficult to focus. She felt disoriented and vulnerable.

Lando came in from upstairs and glanced at her as he made some ginger tea. "Here, it'll help," he said, giving her a steaming cup. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I just got drugged, stabbed and arrested. In one day! Oh I'm doing awesome!" she replied.

"I'm sorry." Lando apologises, his eyes filled with genuine regret.

"Where's Liam?" She asked.

"Dad called him back for an important case so he and Chloe went back. But they'll be here anytime soon."

"Does he know how much of a saint his little brother is?" She chuckled.

"No please don't drag my brother into this. He's clean. He'll kill me if he knows I'm involving in such things. Sorry please." Lando pleaded.

"It's okay. It was really my fault." She said.

"You told me not to come but i didn't listen and took that drink. God how stupid am I....I guess I was angry."

"On whom?" Lando asked, his voice gentle.

"My boyfriend, Theo....It was almost over between us when he moved here in London and I was trying to mend it. I thought it was because of the long distance thing but it turns out he was cheating on me."

"What a loser." Lando scoffed.

She chuckles and then hisses as she shifts in her chair and feels a sharp pain. Last night's wound.

"Can I see it?" Lando asks.

Fresa lifts her shirt and and he saw the red bandage gash above her waist, to the side. "You're bleeding through." Lando said, his brow furrowing. He hurriedly grabs the first aid box and guided her to the couch.

Then he carefully cleaned the wound. His touch surprisingly gentle. Fresa gripped Lando's shirt as the antiseptic stung, a sharp, clean pain. "I'm almost done," he reassured her.

The scent of antiseptic filled the air, an oddly comforting aroma. Fresa's gaze drifted to Lando's face, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was so close, every detail of his expression magnified.

As he finished bandaging the wound, his fingers brushed against her skin, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

The silence continued with only the chirping of birds outside. Lando's gaze lingered on her lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. She closed her eyes, feeling his lips brushing against her cheek.

Then his lips moved to hers, a soft, tentative exploration. The kiss was gentle, hesitant. But as she gave him access, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Her hands found their way to his hair, her fingers in the soft curls.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. A soft smile played on his lips. "Do you want go to a party?" he asked.

"A party?" she chuckled.

"No no! Not like last night. Liam and Chloe will be there too!" He laughed.

"So you're not angry at me anymore?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, still am," she replied, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "But maybe tomorrow, right now I'm in a little pain," she smiled.

"Wow, Chloe, look, the house is standing," Liam laughed as he entered with Chloe. Seeing them, Lando moved away, and Fresa adjusted her shirt back.

"What you kids do when we were out?" Liam asked, settling onto the couch.

"Played in the sand" Lando sneered.

"What happened to your hands?" Chloe asked, noticing Lando's reddened knuckles.

"What happened to you?" Liam asked, seeing Fresa's forehead wound.

"I, uh, don't know...I think I was drunk and I fell," she stammered a little.

"And you went for a boxing match, didn't you?" Liam glared at Lando. "You do boxing?" Fresa asked, looking at Lando. "I've told you a million times to quit, but you never listen, right?" Liam continued. "You didn't take Fresa with you, did you?"

"No!" Lando and Fresa replied in unison, their voices too quick, too synchronized, making them even more suspicious.

"Anyways where's Anna?" Liam asked.

"She's late, she had some important work so she'll come by tomorrow morning." Lando answers and Liam nods.

Anna. The words echoed through Fresa's ears. Did she just kissed Lando despite him having a girlfriend? Guilt washes over her.

[4.1k words]

[writeriguess]

So happy to have you back my heart feels complete again. Would you write alpha ghost x omega reader? Lt.Ghost is on base in a meeting with tf141 and they get a call about a break out happening an apocalypse is about to happen and ghost jumps up tells his team how he has a bunker at home but he needs to get home now and they ask follow him home and are surprised to find a shy short curvy American omega

author's note: Glad to be back <3

Beneath the Mask

The tension in the briefing room was thick. Task Force 141 sat around the table, going over the latest intel, the rhythmic tapping of fingers against the wood the only sign of impatience. Ghost sat with his arms crossed, silent as he listened to Price, but his focus was split. Something in his gut itched, an unease clawing at the edges of his mind. He had felt this before—this deep, bone-deep instinct that something was about to go terribly wrong. But this time, it wasn’t just a mission. It was you.

Then the call came.

A prison break. But not just any escape—mass chaos was unfolding. Civilians were fleeing in droves, and every government alert channel blared the same message: An outbreak is happening. The world as they knew it was falling apart.

Ghost shot to his feet so fast his chair nearly toppled.

"I need to go. Now."

"The hell do you mean, mate?" Soap’s brows furrowed. "We need a plan—"

"I have a bunker. At home. Prepped for this kind of thing." His voice was sharp, commanding. "I need to get there."

"Home?" Gaz echoed, exchanging glances with the others. "You actually have a home?"

Ghost ignored the jab and turned to Price. "You lot can come with me or figure your own shit out. But I’m not waiting around for this to get worse."

That was all the convincing they needed. Within minutes, they were in the air, heading straight for Ghost’s home—a place none of them had ever seen or even heard about.

The drive up to the property was tense. The roads were already beginning to empty, the eerie silence only broken by the occasional panicked voice on a radio transmission. The city had been bad, but the countryside was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Ghost barely spoke, gripping the wheel tightly, his entire body locked with urgency. Soap, Gaz, and Price, on the other hand, exchanged silent looks in the back of the vehicle.

They knew Ghost was secretive, but this? A hidden bunker, a home he’d never spoken of? It wasn’t just paranoia—it was preparation. But for what exactly?

And then, they arrived.

Tucked deep into the countryside, the house was unassuming—modest, quiet, surrounded by thick trees that concealed it from view. It looked almost too normal for someone like Ghost, but the moment he stepped out of the car, his posture changed.

The hardened soldier was gone, replaced by something more primal. More urgent.

He strode to the front door and unlocked it, stepping inside as the others followed. The house was warm, cozy even—nothing like what they expected. A fireplace flickered in the corner, the faint scent of home-cooked meals still lingering in the air. The walls were lined with books, photographs, pieces of a life that none of them had imagined Ghost having.

And then, they saw you.

You stood in the middle of the living room, wide-eyed and clutching a thick blanket around your shoulders, your scent blooming in the air—sweet, familiar, uniquely his.

Short. Curvy. Omega.

Ghost exhaled sharply, his instincts settling the moment he saw you safe.

"Simon?" Your voice was soft, tentative, and laced with relief.

He closed the distance between you in two long strides, cupping your face gently, scanning you for any sign of harm. "You okay, love?"

You nodded, eyes flickering behind him to the stunned group of men still standing in the doorway, jaws slack.

"What the fuck…?" Soap muttered under his breath.

Gaz blinked. "You—you have a mate?"

Price let out a breath, rubbing his temple. "Christ, Ghost. You really don’t tell us a damn thing, do you?"

Ghost ignored them, focused solely on you. He ran his thumb along your jaw, his voice softer now. "Pack a bag. We’re going underground. Now."

You didn’t hesitate, nodding as you turned to grab what you needed. The team, however, still looked like they were struggling to process what they were seeing.

Soap let out a low whistle. "An Omega. Your Omega. Bloody hell."

Ghost shot him a warning glare. "Not a word."

Soap held up his hands, smirking. "Didn’t say a thing, mate. But I’ve got questions."

"Not now."

Price sighed, adjusting his vest. "Let’s move before things get worse."

Ghost didn’t let you out of his sight, keeping you tucked close as he led you towards the entrance to the underground bunker. He could already smell your anxiety, the way your body hummed with unease. His arm slipped around your waist, grounding you as he pressed a reassuring kiss to your temple.

"I’ve got you, love."

The entrance to the bunker was hidden beneath a reinforced hatch in the back of the house. Ghost opened it with practiced ease, revealing a well-lit, fully stocked underground shelter—walls lined with supplies, weapons, everything needed to survive for months, even years if necessary.

Soap let out an impressed whistle as he stepped inside. "Damn. You weren’t kidding about being prepared."

"Never am."

You settled onto the bed tucked in the corner, fingers gripping the fabric of Ghost’s sleeve as if to make sure he was really there. He sat beside you, his large frame practically dwarfing you as he pulled you into his arms. He needed to feel you close, to know you were safe.

Above them, the world was descending into chaos. But down here, with you curled against him, Ghost knew one thing for certain—

He would protect you. No matter what it took.

[xiepheer]

HIHIII i loved your truth and deceit fic :33

could i pretty please request a shadow milk x clumsy reader :3?

The Master of Deceit and his clumsy one!

Shadow Milk cookie x Clumsy reader

Hey guys! Hope yall like this! Also feel free to ask requests! Any cookies I will do! Thank you so much for the support everyone!

First off, he doesn't expect his dearest lover to be clumsy!

So whenever you're in his dimensions, he would watch over you just incase you tripped and fall into an endless void.

Now having you clumsy is what he likes. He likes to protect you.

He would act like the hero when you almost fall in a void or endless river.

When you were hurt while you tripped, he would be desperate to help you and get you up.

"Pookie are you okay? Are you hurt? I'll bring help!" He says,desperate to help you.

He breathed a sigh of relief when you confirmed that you were fine and not hurt.

Now he would use you sometimes for his shows where you have to do carnival tricks and when you fall (which is definitely on the script), he saves you so the crowd applauds.

And of course he doesn't only use you, he loves you. He would depend on your answer if he asks if you want to be in the show.

Now since he deeply cares about you, he brings you everywhere with him.

No matter the situation, he knew he would be desperate without you if you hurt yourself in the process of being clumsy.

He would ask Black Sapphire Cookie to watch over you whenever he couldn't because Black Sapphire Cookie is who he really trusts you to be with.

He does trust Candy Apple cookie but he knows that she's gonna do something to you.

When he got sealed in the tree, he could only hope that Black Sapphire Cookie and Candy Apple cookie is taking care of you.

Now they do take care of you.

Candy Apple cookie just can't accept the fact that he cares about someone clumsy and fragile than her.

Now Black Sapphire Cookie would shake her jealous thoughts away, telling her to accept their fate or surely they will pay.

"Eugh!! What does Master Shadow Milk cookie see in that clumsy fragile cookie!" She huffed. "I did everything for Master Shadow Milk cookie but all he does is ignore me! I even put my best syrups on!"

She basically threw a tantrum on Black Sapphire Cookie while you were somewhere in the sphire. Hoping not to be clumsy and fall again.

"Cut it out! Master Shadow Milk cookie clearly cares for that cookie so accept it!" He said to her.

"And we can't do anything about it!" He said to her.

Now she DID eventually accept it but also feels jealousy time to time.

When Shadow Milk cookie gets realesed from the tree, the first thing he searches is You.

When he found you, he checks you up in case you have any physical bruises or scars.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he checked and you weren't hurt.

And now he brings you all the time, everywhere.

He brings you with him and make you watch him cause destruction.

Now you can't do anything about that. You know he's just ensuring your safety.

Now the reason why he brings you with him was because you are clumsy. Constantly after walking a bit, you would trip.

He would catch you of course and play as the prince in your "Save me!" Princess role.

He would ensure your clumsy butt doesn't get in trouble and would ensure that you're safe.

Hey everyone! I'm so sorry if this isn't for your liking, feel free to tell me which part you didn't like!

Also I encourage everyone to ask for requests! All cookies are involved!

🫶🫶

[valentina-writes]

The Distance He Keeps

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and you have been best friends for centuries. But all of a sudden he won't talk to you anymore.

words: 1.5k | Masterlist

This is a 3 part series. The other parts will be released in the next days. I hope you enjoy xx

A/N: I honestly don't know if any of y'all are still here, but I'm kinda back! This was not requested, it's kind of a try at starting to write again. I can't promise that I'm going to be really active again and for now I'm not taking requests. We'll see how it goes :)

I was late for dinner, I realized as I hurried through the front door and foyer of Rhys's townhouse and into the dining room. The inner circle, my friends, my family, were gathered around the long wooden table. All of them were already here, eating, laughing and talking. Their words didn't quite reach me. The only empty seat was my usual one, next to Azriel, who had his wings neatly folded behind his back and was engaged in conversation with Rhys. I squared up my shoulders and excused my late arrival: "Hi everyone. Sorry I'm late, work was terrible". The latter was directed mainly at Rhys. I'd have to have a talk with him later. The rest of my friends greeted me, smiling. Only Azriel didn't. In fact, he did not even look my way. My heart froze in my chest. He had been ignoring me for weeks. My breath hitched as I waited for any sort of reaction, but he resumed his conversation as if I weren't there. My eyes started burning at his disregard and I fought to regain compusure. For a split second I contemplated winnowing away on the spot. But this was our first dinner like this in weeks and I could make this uncomfortable for him too.

With long strides I walked over to Cassian, who was seated next to Nesta. I stopped next to him and he happily said "Hi Y/N". Well, this was going to be awkward. My only response was "Move". The conversations around me came to a halt as Cassian's expression turned to amused confusion. "I… what?". My heart hammered in my chest and heat rose to my cheeks. I did not dare look up to see if Azriel was finally acknowledging me. "I said move", I repeated. And then, quieter, so only he could hear it "Please". He stood up without conplaining and from the look I saw in Nesta's eyes, I gathered she must have said something through the bond to make him comply. I slid into Cass's seat and started to fill my plate as conversation around the table resumed as if nothing had happened. But something had happened. For 300 years I'd had my spot at this table. I had never sat elsewhere. Until today. I mumbled a thanks to Nesta and started eating, when I felt Rhys at the edges of my consciousness, stroking softly against my mental shields to be let in. In response, I slammed a second wall down and shook my head at him slightly. He didn't try again.

Dinner was tense. I tried talking to Nesta, but I was so busy not to look the way of the tall shadowsinger that several times she had to ask her questions twice before I realized she was still talking to me. Nobody addressed my entrance. Inside me, my blood was boiling, my heart a pile of glass shards. I had tried to excuse Azriel's behavior during the past weeks. Most of the time I convinced myself that he was simply too busy with work to spend as much time with me as he used to. But this was different, we were at home for Cauldron's sake. He was supposed to be different here, he was supposed to welcome me with a warm hug and hand me seconds at dessert. How could he all of a sudden not care anymore at all? I was so lost in thought that I barely registered Rhys standing up and proclaiming: "Excuse us, Y/N and I have to talk about her work". For a second, I merely stared at him, then I dropped my fork and knife on the table and stood up. It was comically obvious that this was not about my work. When we had just crossed the threshold into the foyer, I heard somebody whispering: "Azriel, what the fuck is going on?". His only response: "I need to go".

Rhys brought me into his study and shut the door. I sunk down into one of the armchairs and waited for him to take a seat. Instead, Rhys leaned against his ornate desk and rubbed his forehead as if in pain. "Y/N", he started after a while, "please, what is going on between him and you?". Pain flared through me at his mention. "Nothing". Rhys's lips twitched into a smile and then he was laughing. "You have been part of my inner circle for more than 300 years. Azriel, I know even longer. He is like my brother. Don't think I wouldn't notice that there is something terribly wrong". Tears burned in my eyes again. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep this from Rhys. Maybe it was a good thing, being able to confide in someone, I beckoned myself. Things were horrible already. This would merely be the last nail in my already finished coffin the Mother had built me. "The day after starfall I came into work", I said, a tear sliding down my cheek. Rhys came closer and knealt down in front of me. "And he just… wouldn't talk to me". A sob escaped my lips. Rhys took my hand in his and his face turned into a frown. "At first - I - he…. I thought he was just busy, but it didn't get any better. It only… only got worse". Tears were now streaming down my face. I could barely see Rhys out of my teary swollen eyes. "We haven't talked in weeks. Months even. At work, he doesn't let me go on any missions and instead makes me do paperwork. We don't train together anymore. We don't spend time anymore. Worst of all, he won't even look at me and I just don't understand what I did wrong". The last sentences were almost inaudible over my sobs. Rhys gently pulled me up by my hands and drew me into a tight hug. My hands clasped around his back and I cried and cried until his shirt was wet and my eyes dry. "Do you want me to talk to him about this?", he asked softly. But I shook my head no against him. "This is bad enough as is. I don't want Azriel to withdraw even more. I thought we were best friends. But I'm so… alone", I croaked. Best friends. We had been inseperable for so long, I almost didn't remember a time before Azriel. His bedroom was next to mine. We worked together, trained together, ate together, spent our free time together. And now that he was gone, the better part of my life was missing. Tears threatened to well up again, but I surpressed them. Rhys hummed softly. "What do you think could have caused this?". I rummaged through my memories, trying to take ahold of the root of all evil. And was catapulted back in time to starfall.

Azriel looked radiant in his dark blue suit, the same color as his siphons. Slow music was playing and we were entwined, dancing to it, as the first souls began their journey across the night sky. My cheeks were flushed from being so close to him and was grateful for the darkness surrounding us. Instances like this one were rare. He almost never let anyone touch him, not like this, at least. "It's so beautiful, isn't it?", I asked him, "But isn't it sad how all souls have to make this journey alone?". He stopped our movements and looked away from me at the sky, as if for the first time that day. "It is. But I don't know if they are truly alone. Wherever they go, I think they will meet again". Thousands of comets rained from the sky. I smiled at his thought and hugged him a little tighter. I hoped he was right. No matter what came after this life, whatever existence the Cauldron had in store for us, without Azriel it would be meaningless. "Do you think we will see us again?" Our eyes met. The golden specks in his were glowing in the starlight and my breath hitched at the softness of his gaze. There were a million questions in this simple one. Words that had been stuck in my throat for hundreds of years, that always went unsaid, that I had been choking on for eternity. "I will find you, no matter where. I promise". My heart skipped a beat. "I love you, I always have", I wanted to say, but it only came out:"And I will find you". His wings cocooned me in, blocking out the noise and light. When he unfoldet them again slightly, we were standing on a deserted terrace under the stars. "Azriel, I…" His face came closer, our lips almost touching - but there was somebody watching.

"Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My. Head. RHYSAND", I nearly screamed as I wound myself out of his embrace. "We are very good friends and I know you know almost every thought in my head. But this. This is fucking private". Now, I was seething. How could he? My innermost thoughts, my most guarded memories. I wanted to curse the Mother for putting me through this misery. "I don't know if you noticed, but all of your walls were down. You were practically inviting me in", he reasoned, eyes glinting. "Again, you can see anything you want. But not this", I repeated. My hands balled into fists at my sides. Thick iron walls fell down around my brain, shutting him out. "Interesting", he mused, chuckling to himself. "I think you should talk to him. I don't think you need to worry at all". I was already striding out, planning on fetching Cassian to channel my anger into sparring. "I love you, Rhys, you're like a brother to me. Please keep that in mind when I say go fuck yourself". A hearty laugh sounded from behind me and a whisper in my mind said: "Soon you will understand"

[e-dubbc11]

Such a Flirt

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader; supporting character Sam Winchester

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ please or I’m telling on you) fingering, oral, p in v protected sex (be safe out there everyone), couple of swear words, love confessions

Word Count: 3.3K-ish

Summary: Dean and Sam ask for your help getting information from a bartender at a local bar. You’re a smooth talker and can get info from anyone but Dean hates having to watch you flirt with handsome men.

A/N: Fair warning, there’s only a little plot with this one. I really just wanted to get to the smexy time. I had the strongest urge to write some smut for this smexy son of a bitch, I don’t know why but I’m just very much in love with all things Jensen Ackles right now(I’ve watched Tracker, My Bloody Valentine, and started watching season 3 of the Boys again plus random episodes of Supernatural) I can’t wait to meet him in October! I hope you like this one!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Dude, why are you grinding your teeth like that?” Asked Sam.

Dean’s eyes were fixated on you as you flirted with the bartender. You were trying to see if he knew anything about a man who was in the bar a couple of days ago.

Later, the man couldn’t explain why he had beaten his girlfriend to death after being seen in the bar with a beautiful woman who was definitely NOT his girlfriend.

“Does she have to flirt so hard with that guy?!” Growled Dean. “He’s not even that good looking!”

Dean angrily took a sip of his beer and continued to watch you like a hawk.

Sam rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together in a straight line and tried to continue talking about the case with Dean but he was more interested in what you were saying to the bartender.

“She’s trying to get information for us, Dean. Relax.” Said Sam.

The boys didn’t always need a third “FBI agent.” Sometimes they just needed help getting information from the opposite sex. Men were a lot freer with their words with you rather than the “feds.”

You mostly hunted on your own but they would call you from time to time when they needed your…”wits,” so to speak. Plus, you liked to watch Dean struggle with his feelings for you and you very much liked him back but it was fun to make him jealous.

**********

Before leaving the bunker, you had asked, “What kinda bar is it?”

“What do you mean what kind? It’s a bar, y/n.” Answered Dean.

“Ok, I realize that, Dean but is it a biker bar, a country western bar, one that doesn’t have a theme? I need to know what kinda clothes to bring. I threw a whole bunch in my car, I’ll bring the one outfit I need, and pick up the rest back here before I head home.” You replied.

Sam was already on his laptop doing research so he did a quick search and found the bar’s website online.

“Looks like it’s quite the nice place, y/n. Reviews say it’s an after work hot spot for bankers, real estate brokers, professionals, etc.” Said Sam.

You replied, “Soooooo a little swanky, but don’t dress like a high end call girl, got it. You guys will fit in perfectly wearing your FED suits.”

You decided to go for the “classy attorney” look but without a blazer. A Kelly green fitted silk blouse, black wide-leg pants that had black studs on the seam, and black ankle boots. Your perfectly chosen outfit, paired with a black structured tote bag seemed like impeccable choices.

Eat your heart out, Dean Winchester.

While they were out eating lunch, you did your hair and makeup. You didn’t do this super girly stuff very often but you liked…feeling pretty. The times that the boys needed you to turn on the charm and bat your long lashes to get information, were really fun for you.

Drawing on your black winged eyeliner after having a little too much coffee proved to be difficult sometimes but you were a professional and could probably do it with your eyes closed if you needed to.

A medium tone matte eyeshadow and a bold lip completed the look while a strobe light like highlighter emphasized the high points of your face.

Satisfied with your look, you watched a little tv before changing clothes. They would be back soon to pick you up for drinks after they talked to the local cops.

While in the bathroom, you heard the door open and Dean called out to you.

“Y/n?! You better be ready; we gotta go!” Said Dean.

You emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with the exception of your shoes.

“Ok, ok keep your shirt on, Winchester. I just need my boots.” You replied.

After slipping into your boots, you picked up your bag and finally had a chance to look up. For once, Dean’s brow wasn’t furrowed and you could see his hypnotizing green eyes much better which caught you off guard.

“What is it? Do I have something on my pants?” You said, gazing down at your pants then turning in a circle with your head over your shoulder, trying to look at your own ass.

Dean was speechless and couldn’t get any words out so Sam answered as he tossed a burger at you, “Nope, all good. Let’s go. You can eat in the car.”

They walked up ahead as you locked the door behind you.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? You were staring at her.” Said Sam.

Dean replied, “She looks too good, Sam.”

“Can you wrestle with your feelings for her another time? She’s supposed to look nice.” Sam said.

Nervously, Dean whispered, “Well she’s distracting! And I don’t have THOSE kinds of feelings for her.”

“Whatever you say, dude.” Replied Sam with raised eyebrows.

You covered your mouth so they wouldn’t see you crack a smile.

While riding in the car, you leaned forward so the boys could hear you better. Making sure he could feel your breath on his ear, you said, “You two can go in first, have a seat, and I’ll make my way in after a few minutes. You can keep an eye on me as I walk up to the bar.”

A sly smirk stretched across your lips as you slinked back into your seat and looked at Dean in the rearview mirror, trying his hardest NOT to appear flustered but failing miserably.

You could have made it easy and told Dean how you felt about him but he deserved to be on the receiving end of the teasing. Women made it easy for him, just falling at his feet which meant he had his pick and he hated every time you teased him.

And now, drinking at the corner of the bar, you could feel him burning a hole in your head with his angry stare. It appeared that Dean couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. Sam tried to grab hold of his jacket but he missed and Dean started to walk over to the bar when the bartender walked away to wait on someone else.

“I’m getting some good stuff, Dean. Get outta here!” You whisper yelled at him without looking and without drawing attention to yourself.

He nonchalantly whisper yelled back at you, “You’re being a little TOO friendly with him, don’t ya think?”

“I’m perfectly capable of weaseling information out of a dumb bartender. Now get outta here before I kick your ass all over this bar!” You growled.

“Need something, friend?” The bartender asked Dean.

A tad flustered, Dean replied with a narrowed expression, “Two more beers, buddy. Thanks.”

You got what you needed from the bartender and after another hour or so, you paid for your drinks and left. Dean and Sam followed you out a handful of minutes later.

“Can we get pizza?” You asked.

Dean was always in a better mood if he was fed properly so as a peace offering, you bought pizza on the way back to the motel. And of course, Dean picked up more beer.

Settling in with your dinner, you told them everything Jeremy, the bartender, told you about what he witnessed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn’t know the two of you were on a first name basis.” Said Dean.

You rolled your eyes.

“Will you let me finish, please!?” You asked.

“Dean…let her finish. Come on.” Said Sam.

Dean continued to pace back and forth while you talked.

“…So the woman that he left with, Jeremy had never seen before. And this guy hung on her every word, gazed at her like she hung the moon, she said all the right things. Almost like he was legit under a spell or something.” You finished.

Sam had his laptop open. His fingers swiftly typed words into the search engine and he then flipped the screen around to show you and Dean what he found.

“I think we might be dealing with another siren.” Said Sam, confidently. “Two other women were murdered by husbands or boyfriends after encounters with beautiful women at that bar. Sirens need love and they compel people to kill to show devotion to them.” He turned to Dean. “Remember that one we dealt with before? The time where we were trying to kill each other?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I try not to though.”

Preoccupied with Dean’s eyes, they had darkened a little to match better with the green shirt you had on, you covered your infatuation by pushing the chair across from you out from under the table.

“Take a load off, tiger. You’re makin’ me nervous with all this pacin’ around you’re doin’.” You said in between bites of pizza.

The Winchester brothers were your second family and you knew them well, especially Dean so you knew when something was really bothering him. And right now, something was definitely bothering him.

Sam’s face was buried in his laptop, it was quiet in the room except for the sounds of fingers moving across a keyboard, and the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Something about you being there was keeping Dean on edge so you finally decided to break the silence.

“Dean? Come on. What is it? You’re being extra grouchy right now, so grouchy that pizza couldn’t fix it. Ever since I walked outta the bathroom earlier, you’ve been short with me.” You said, calmly.

He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and traced the outside of his lips with his thumb and forefinger before narrowing his eyes at you.

You knew that look. The look of an extremely handsome literal green-eyed monster glaring at you from across the table. Dean was close to blowing a gasket.

He pointed at you and in his low gravelly voice said, “I don’t like it when you flirt with other men. There! I said it, ok!? You happy!?”

In one fluid motion, Sam closed his laptop, grabbed the keys to the car and said, “I’m gonna go talk to the cops again. Lemme know when you two work THIS out.”

You started to say, “O-ok, well just be—“

“Yep, I’ll be careful. I know what to look for. I’ll see ya guys later.” Said Sam.

The door closed behind him, the Impala roared to life, and Sam drove off, leaving you and Dean alone in the motel room.

“Well that was weird. Anyway…Dean, I’m just doing what you guys asked me to do! You needed me to get information, so I turned on my charm and I got what we needed just like any other time you’ve needed me for something like this!” You said with a raised voice.

Dean stood up from the table and loosened his tie a little. Unbuttoning the top button on his dress shirt, he didn’t take his gaze away from you.

“You don’t have to be THAT good, ya know! They eat it up every single time! Lemme ask you this…did that Jeremy guy ask for your number?”

Seeing Dean this upset made you think that he didn’t just have a little crush on you.

Feeling a little warm, you unbuttoned a couple of buttons on your blouse and stood up also. You were reluctant to answer him but finally said softly, “Yes, he did.”

“HA! I fuckin’ knew it! They always do and did you give it to him?” Asked Dean.

You started to answer before he interrupted you, “Dean…”

“Did you!?” He asked again.

Not wanting to confess your feelings first, you tried to stall.

“No, I didn’t!” You shouted.

The table was in between the two of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, your jawlines tight with anger and frustration, and the sound of your heart beating inside your chest was deafening.

“Oh yeah?! And why should I believe you, y/n?!” Dean growled.

“I’ve never given any of them my number, Dean! Not a single one!” You bellowed.

His expression softened as he asked, “Well…why not?”

After a long day, you couldn’t help but collapse onto the bed. You allowed your legs to give out and sat down on the edge of the mattress before answering him.

“Why do you think, ya big dumb animal?! Because the only guy's number I want in my phone is yours, Dean! And Sam’s but for different reasons. You know what I’m trying to say, stop looking at me like that.” You said, nervously.

He walked around the table, gazed down at you with his beautiful green eyes, they were the color of fresh blades of grass, and leaned over to inch his face closer to yours. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose was so youthful and adorable. You swallowed hard as you felt his breath against your eyelashes.

“And why do you think I get the way that I do when I see you flirt with other guys? You know why, don’t you sweetheart.” He said, melodiously.

Dean’s lips were ghosting over yours. You were silently begging him to just kiss you and kiss you hard. All the tension that had been building over the years was coming to a head right now. His tie dangled down from around his neck, you were dying to just pull him on top of you and find out what he tastes like…all of him.

“Because you want me as much as I want you?” You replied, gently touching his tie.

Still holding his tie, you inched yourself up toward the headboard. Dean followed your lead as you removed his tie and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

“I want you more.” He purred into your ear before his perfect lips crashed onto yours.

Dean covered your mouth with his own, devouring you with every kiss he placed on your lips, neck and jaw. You won the fight to be on top, although you were sure he let you win, and you continued to unbutton his shirt while he grasped clumsily at the buttons on yours.

They were small so he was having a hard time with them until you stepped in.

“I’ll do them, baby.” You whispered as he haphazardly tossed his clothes to the side.

You stood up and let your pants fall to your ankles while you finished unbuttoning your silk shirt. His desire for you was very apparent by the large tent in his boxers that you felt against your core as soon as you straddled him. The bottom of the shirt brushed against his thighs and goosebumps peppered across his skin.

You decided to let him finish undressing you.

Dean’s hands gently pushed your shirt off of your shoulders and all that was left was the black lace bra that was barely containing your breasts that he could not wait to get you out of. The man was a pro at unhooking your bra with one hand. If you didn’t want him so badly, you would have stopped to give him shit for it.

He lightly nipped the skin down the side of your neck, making you gasp when he got to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You felt like you could have come just by him biting down on that sweet spot. The growing ache between your thighs was torture and you desperately wanted him to touch you.

Like he read your mind, his strong hands migrated from your breasts down to your waist. Reaching in between your thighs, Dean teased your entrance with one finger, then slid another inside with ease.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He whispered as a strangled moan escaped your lips.

To suffocate your screams, you bit down on your lower lip as he continued to move his talented fingers, hooking them in just the right spot to make you see stars, and drew circles on your clit to really tease you.

“Dean!” You pleaded, just before you hit your peak and tightly clenched around his fingers.

“You can be loud, baby. These kinds of places are used to noises like that, if ya know what I mean.” He said with a wink and a smirk.

You smiled back, pressed your lips to his, and lightly bit down on his bottom lip before starting to pepper kisses down his chest.

After pulling down his boxers, you took him into your mouth. A deep guttural moan and words of praise fled from Dean’s lips when your tongue circled the underside. That made him draw in a sharp breath as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, that feels good, sweetheart.” He hissed and mumbled something else incoherently.

Crawling up his body, he slipped on a condom and then as you straddled him, you replied, “My mouth isn’t just for flirting, Dean.”

He slid into you with ease, burying himself to the hilt, causing you both to gasp before he cut your moan short with a hard kiss. You circled your hips slowly, allowing him to go deeper inside you, and it sent sharp tingles down your spine.

You pulled him in close as your walls began to tighten around him, clinging to him like your life depended on it with your climax starting to build.

Dean’s body was a warm cradle for yours as his fast abrupt strokes were about to send you over the edge and fast. But he loved to look at you so he pulled away slightly and watched your pleasure surge through you.

As you were riding out one orgasm, Dean managed to pull another one from you as you loudly called out his name like no one else was around which made him feral.

His movements became faster, more brutal, pulling out of you just so he could slam into you again and again as his body went rigid underneath you. Crushing your waist, his arms were wrapped around you so tightly that all of the air escaped your lungs.

His release came hard and fast, followed by a strangled moan while your bodies trembled from overstimulation. Dean’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he tried to catch his breath while you leaned in for a gentle kiss and let your fingers glide through his soft brown hair.

Collapsing on top of him, you smiled against his chest as his fingers tickled the outside of your arm and the only thing you could hear was Dean’s heart beating rapidly against your ear.

Trying to get your breathing under control, you covered yourself with the sheet and finally managed to ask, “So…does this mean you don’t want me to flirt for information anymore?”

Dean kissed the top of your head and replied, “As long as you come home with me, I’ll allow it.”

“ALLOW IT?! You’re not the boss of me, Winchester.” You said, sarcastically.

He licked his lips as you looked up at him through your long dark lashes.

In barely more than a whisper, he said, “Well what if I told you you’re really pretty and that I might be…in love with you?”

“Awww…you’re really pretty too!” You said, jokingly.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, I’m tryin’ to—“

Wrapped up in the sheet, you sat upright, cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, your tongue slipped into his mouth to tangle with his as a low growl escaped his lips.

“I might be in love with you too.” You whispered against his mouth.

Chasing each other’s smiles, he continued to kiss you until you heard a key in the door. Sam walked in, took one look at the two of you and without missing a beat said, “Oh good, you two worked it out. So I was thinking, I might know who—“

He stopped, looked at the two of you and shouted, “Guys…that’s MY bed!!”

You and Dean started to laugh.

Oops.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @deans-spinster-witch @savorxe

If you would like to be added to(or removed from) my tag list(s) for this smexy Winchester, just let me know!

[xoxochb]

dated february 28

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

this has been the most uneventful and boring and stupid week of my life.

I’ve been sick since saturday with the flu and while it is for the most part gone it’s still there faintly.

but at least I get to be babied by percy. or really that’s until I start complaining and complaining and then he ignores me. I pull his hair and that gets him talking. kinda like a children’s toy !

I think he’s been doing something differently because he’s looked extra nice this week. maybe he’s pregnant and that’s why he’s glowing. he told me once that female seahorses get the males pregnant because they have a pouch which can carry the eggs.

I asked him once if he’d like to be seahorses with me so I could get him pregnant. he said “no thank you” but offered to impregnate me instead. unsurprisingly, I said “no thank you” and to wait until we’re older. that made him happy so I was happy too.

but I seriously think he’s doing something though. or maybe it’s just because summer is on the horizon. I can’t wait until it’s hot outside and I get to see him shirtless every day. though I do during winter too anyways…

on that thought, I do everyday. but you get the point, it’s still nice.

he convinced mr. d to let him take a week long trip to see his family. which I’m happy for him because I know he misses them. but I’m going to miss him too! maybe even more! :(

but luckily I’ve prepared myself for this moment! I took a couple of his clothes back to my cabin so he can’t find them so when he leaves, his clothes will still smell like him so I can wear them. and cry in my bed maybe possibly probably.

percy asked me not to cry while he leaves but it’s hard not to because we’re together 99% of our lives and when he’s gone it’s kinda boring.

and it’s sad because I’ll miss him.

but I won’t think about this until the time comes.

today I made a playlist for us. it’s songs I like that remind me of percy and some of him and me both. I almost let him help me find the perfect songs but I knew he’d end up making it just a bunch of led zeppelin songs so I decided against that idea.

but I did make him sit through the entire playlist and rate each song. he said it was a 10/10 playlist because I made it. I guess that’s progress!

percy told me he was going to make a playlist himself for me so I’m kinda excited to see what he’s putting on it. and kind of nervous you never know with him.

he’s kind of suffocating me right now. he passed out after we shared a bowl of ice cream but I presume that any minute he’ll be up and bouncing off the walls. by then I would become sleepy. that’s a later problem though…

for right now I’ll just enjoy watching his peaceful state. I like watching him sleep it’s nice. he’s very pretty and I like his hair. and his eyes, sea green is my favorite color. but his eyes are closed right now. I’ll take a look later.

I think I should go to sleep before he wakes up so well actually get around to sleeping tonight because most nights we don’t sleep and stay up until, like, three in the morning and that’s usually when he crashes.

then we miss breakfast and he cooks me something for brunch. today he made me heart shaped pancakes and they even had chocolate chips!!!!!! I gave him a large kiss in return. he asked for more since he had even taken it upon himself to add powdered sugar. I told him tonight.

and that idiot remembered. so as he asked, I granted.

but I just keep talking….. I should rest my eyes and my wrist before it falls off.

xoxo, sweet girl <3

[wvffles]

ohhhhhhhhh goshhh 😩 the anticipation continuessss

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.” “She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

the fact that this is how he sees their story, yet he's still chosen to be a dirty lying no good scoundrel really grinds my gears. like he needed to forget his name? I could smack him with a frying pan rapunzel style for the same effect lol

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

my immediate thought was well try harder 😭 and i did feel bad for a second, then I finished the chapter…i stand by my statement 😅

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

so real lmaoo

her inner conflict tugged at my heartstrings, i'm just glad she's giving herself some grace at least <3 it’s a difficult situation all around

the flowers!!! 😩 oh dean :( and michael is truly a classic douche like sir you cannot just magically make it better with some flowers and dinner 🙂‍↔️🤚🏽

Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

i would get so violent are you kiddingg meeeee

it’s bad enough he’s sleeping with a floozy on the regular but to take his wife’s money as well to fund that is actually beyond ballsy and insane. i hate them, justice for my girl fr 🫶🏽:(

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

ngl I had to put my phone down for a moment and yell into a pillow because dean, what the hell man 😩

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

oh dean, getting stabbed would’ve probably hurt less

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

mine’s breaking too dean 😔 i’m just glad he’s trying to ‘fix it’ somewhat immediately instead of just letting her leave like that.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

yeah my heart is definitely broken 🥺 i’m glad they didn’t end things off with hostility and got to have that bittersweet moment at least 😔

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

oh they’d work on me for sure 😭

Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

…

Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

my heart aches, this chapter was so sad 😩 (not in a bad way!!🫶🏽) I feel for all three of them 😔🤍

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

ahhhhhh the cliffhanger! i’m guessing he found something illegal and/or dangerous 🤔 the preview is making me anxiousss, he better not hurt her! 😩

this was a wonderful chapter, very excited to see the drama unfold!!💗💗

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Now we get into the aftermath of the night before, with all the insecurity and heartbreak to go along with it. 💙

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angsty angst, trauma/PTSD, and a cliffhanger…

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 4: Complicit

Sam would give Michael one thing. The guy damn well knew how to drink.

He didn’t stop all night, throwing back whiskey like it was cheap beer. His words began to slur, his movements sloppy, but he was still coherent. When he got up to visit the men’s restroom, Sam got up as well. Maybe he could get Michael talking.

Sam stopped the other man from tripping into the urinal. The two laughed it off, with Michael thanking him before he unzipped to finish his business. Sam did the same.

After washing their hands, Sam looked over and noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on his own reflection in the mirror. It was becoming a rough sight—his blonde hair no longer neatly coiffed, purplish rings under his eyes, the stench of alcohol clinging to his skin and clothing.

“You all right there, Milligan?” Sam asked.

Michael ran a hand over his face, sighing when it didn’t get any better.

“Fine,” he replied. “So, Winchester. What did you say you do for work again? Something about your own business?”

Sam nodded. “I started up a law firm.”

That much, he had to be honest about. It was all too easy for someone to look up his name in the directory.

“Sounds like a good outfit,” Michael said, with an incline of his head. “Every lawyer I know wears a Rolex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at his father’s watch. “Well, I’m not quite there yet.”

“Someday soon, I’m sure,” said Michael. He bumped Sam conspiringly on the shoulder.

“And you?” Sam asked. “What’s keeping the lights on at your place?”

Michael raised a hand to sort through his unruly hair, a dirtier blonde in this unflattering light.

“Well, you could say I’ve inherited a business of my own,” he said. “I run a meat packing plant down in the district.”

Sam’s attention piqued. There had been a meat rationing during the war, even some rumors and propaganda about “meatleggers,” black market operators.

“How’s it been with the rations?” Sam asked. “Been hard to even find a good carton of eggs lately.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “Been on the turnaround, actually. I’ve been able to make some connections with vendors outside the city. A little grease on the palms makes a little go a long way, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly smiled and nodded. A little grease on the palms, huh?

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Michael snorted. “Now you’re talkin’. That’s all we can do, you know. Try to make a thing work, with whatever scraps we get. Try to stay afloat.”

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Michael made a low sound of approval. He became more contemplative, crossing his arms as he once again glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam’s gaze on the other man was perceptive, gaining ever closer to what seemed to be eating at the very core of him. Whether Sam actually believed what he was saying or not, each of his words was a test, a subtle nudge.

“You know,” Michael said. “I was shot down in France.”

Sam sobered further. Leaning against the counter, he retrieved two cigarettes and a lighter. He didn’t often smoke, but he thought it might keep the other man talking. He handed one over to Michael, and he took it gratefully. They lit up together and coiled musky tobacco smoke into the air.

“Where?” Sam asked.

Michael snorted, huffing a bit of smoke. “Lord knows. But when I woke up, I had stitches from here to here.”

He gestured to the back of his head, all the way to above his brow. It explained a small, but noticeable scar near his temple.

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.”

Michael shook his head. “The next chance I got, I married her.”

Sam’s brows rose. He knew you had been a nurse, but he hadn’t known this part of your story.

“A wartime romance, huh?” he said. Michael quirked a smile.

“She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

He hesitated, his eyes somewhat glazing over. He stared over Sam’s shoulder at something only he could see.

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said. “Sometimes, you need to forget your own damn name. Forget that your entire life and mortgage is in a warehouse that might as well be a freezer full a’ dead cow meat. And still, it smells a hell of a lot better than lying on a dirty cot—where the last guy who had your spot probably got his leg sawed off.” 

Michael considers the cigarette in his hand for a long while before he takes another puff.

Sam exhales smoke as well. He spent the last three years behind a desk, but he sees the same shaken core in Michael Milligan that he too often sees in his older brother.

“You know, Winchester, there’s two kinds of men,” Michael said, just a hint of a slur in his voice. “The ones who pray to live…and the ones who beg for it to be over.”

“And what kind of man are you now?” Sam asked. His tone was loose, but his gaze was sharp.

Michael snorted. He dabbed the butt of his cigarette on the inside of the sink before he threw it away.

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

He rolled his shoulders, as if to let the weight of his words and everything that came along with them to roll off his back. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom, leaving Sam considering more than just half a cigarette.

That night after Dean left, you slept in the guest room instead of your bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep next to Michael when he stumbled in at four in the morning, especially now that you had seen his game with your own eyes. 

However, you also felt complicit yourself the next morning. You felt…ashamed. You took your vows seriously. You had never in your life thought you would be someone so brazen. You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

And yet. All while you got ready for work, hearing Michael’s snores from the other room, your mind was filled with warmth and memory—of Dean. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his lips, and of course, his hands. You couldn’t decide which of them was your favorite, but his hands were high on the list. 

You shouldn’t have let him in, you reminded yourself. You nibbled on your lower lip while you prepped the coffee maker. You should have told him goodnight at the door and saw him off. You should very well not have invited him up to the apartment, let alone drank with him, or let him touch you…

You paused while the sound of percolation and the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. You looked up at yourself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The woman looking back at you was conflicted at best.

Yes, you felt guilty. But at the same time, you didn’t. Was it really betraying your marriage if your husband had been doing far worse, and for God knew how long?

No. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a sham. A mockery of the very thing.

You frowned angrily and almost slammed the carafe on the counter when the coffee was done. Forcing yourself to take a few steadying breaths, you allowed that hate and anger to slowly drain out of you, and you smiled.

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

What the hell am I doing?

Dean stared at the two bouquets of flowers. One was a bound bunch of red roses, the other was wildflowers and other colorful ones he didn’t know the names of. He was having a hard time deciding, namely because he didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked.

Because after all, he barely knew you.

He sighed down at the roses. They were pretty, but expensive. He could imagine your surprise, followed by your smile—the one that actually lit up your eyes and changed your whole face, made you sweeter, almost shy.

I’m buying flowers for a married woman.

The thought managed to make him pause, with a rough exhale of breath. The truth was, he’d crossed the line with you. More than once.

The hard part about it was, he didn’t really care. He did wonder if you cared.

He wondered if you’d be embarrassed to see him again. He wondered if you wanted to keep last night a memory, and nothing more. He wondered if he was better off booking his train home now, and leaving some kind of note for you with Sam. Dean didn’t think he wanted to see that look of mortification on your face, the whiskey finally cleared from your mind to see what he really was: a man with no job, no commitments, and very little prospects on the horizon.

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” a young man said from Dean’s left side.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him.

“Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

When the florist asked about you as well, the mention of your name rang between Dean’s ears. A feeling like inky claws raked through his chest; he raised his head from the roses and finally recognized Michael Milligan. He was the same man Dean had spotted in your wedding pictures hanging on the wall last night, right in the foyer.

“She’s all right,” Michael chuckled. “Truth be told, I’ve been working late this week. Hoping to surprise her tonight, take her out to dinner. Somewhere nice, you know.” 

“Oh, really? Why don’t you take her to that nice steakhouse off of Broadway…” the florist twittered on as he continued to ring up Michael’s order.

Anger and disgust prickled under Dean’s skin, his fists clenched at his sides. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and lay your husband out flat. If he thought one little bouquet and a Salisbury steak was going to wash him clean, then he was an idiot as well as a selfish bastard.

But Dean knew, deep down, that Michael would be just as justified to throw a swing right back at him.

So Dean left the flowers, the flower shop, and the entire busy street and all its blaring sounds behind.

During your lunch break, you quickly made the trek over to Sam’s office. He’d called you this morning with a story that only confirmed everything you’d inherently felt, and yet, some of it still managed to shock you. 

You didn’t even have the patience to wait until after work, but when you got there, he reassured you. It had taken him a few rounds of poker and discreetly following Michael and Dolores after they exited through the back of the club…but Sam had gotten the evidence not long after. They weren’t exactly discreet in the alley. Or in the nearby motel.

You had the envelope in hand filled with the pictures he’d developed from his camera.  

“You don’t have to look,” he advised. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I want to see it,” you said. You took the pictures out, and your expression didn’t change as you look through them all. Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He was sincere, with those hazel eyes of his.

You nodded and gave him back the envelope. “What’s next?”

“I went ahead and filed the petition. I’ll take this right to the clerk’s office myself.”

“How long will it take to be over?”

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured.

A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

“Oh, I meant to ask…how’s your brother?” you said.

Sam began to smile, but he tempered it. “He just called before you came in. He let me know he was stepping out for a walk.”

“Oh, really? Did he happen to say where?”

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Well, look who’s here?” he teased. “How’d you find me?”

“I stopped by Sam’s office,” you said, holding onto the lapels of his coat. A cold November wind pushed at you both, ruffling your clothes. “The paperwork is on its way. Soon enough, I won’t be a married woman anymore.”

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, but it didn’t altogether reach his eyes.

“How soon is soon?” he asked.

“A few months, according to your brother.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

That made you pause, tilting your head in confusion. Though you supposed it made sense. He was only here visiting his brother. He was planning on going home eventually.

But surely, that was before we… You lowered your gaze.

“Back to Lawrence?” you asked. Again, he nodded.

“I need to take care of some things, figure out my next move,” he said.

You pulled away from him to brace yourself, and not just against the cold. “Well, when will you be back?” 

He stayed quiet, worrying you even more. There was a deep pit forming in your stomach, churning with unease.  

“Dean?” you prodded.

He stepped back in to grasp your arms gently.

“Sweetheart…the truth is, I don’t have much to offer you,” he said. “I don’t have a business to inherit from my folks. I don’t even have a job. I’m a man who was about as useful as a jackhammer, until the war ended.”

You frowned, resting a hand against his chest. “Dean Winchester, that’s not all there is to you.”

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

You snatched your hand back, hurt filling your eyes. You turned to walk away before he saw your tears. You should have known. You should have known a man like him would never be serious. Not about you. 

As soon as he let the words go, Dean realized what he was doing. Yeah, he was frustrated, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It couldn’t be aimed at you.

God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, or for you to hate him. He really couldn’t stomach either thought, so he relented and reached out to grab at your hand, before you could get too far. 

“Wait,” he said, managing to pull you back to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged your hand to try and free yourself from his grasp. 

“You know what, maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice wobbling with anger, dismay, and tears. “Maybe I ought to stop letting a man get even an inch into my heart. At this point, it’s my own fault.”

“Stop,” Dean demanded. “No, it’s not.” 

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just an idiot,” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears as they fell. “But you…you deserve to be happy. With a man that can take care of you, protect you. A man who has a little more of his life figured out.”

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.”

Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

You stepped back and straightened your clothes. You took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm you, and you uttered a humorless laugh.

“I suppose it makes sense. Why would you want anything to do with me?” You gestured down at yourself with a dismissive hand. “A-a walking mess. Even when I am divorced, that’s how people will see me. Damaged goods. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

You covered your face against Dean and the rest of the world, and after weeks and months, you finally allowed yourself the one thing you hadn’t since your first inkling that your husband was being unfaithful. You finally allowed yourself to break.

The first sob shuddered through your body, followed by hot tears. You squeezed your eyes against them and wiped at your face in vain.

Dean broke too, in his own way. He gathered you into his arms, where he shushed you gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“I wasn’t giving you an excuse,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to push him away, the deep, steady timbre of his voice pierced you and soothed you at the same time.

“I meant every word I said. I may not be the right guy for you, but don’t you dare take a scrap of what anyone else might say, you hear me?” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful. You don’t suffer fools like me, and you’re better than that sad sack excuse of a man deserves.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but you’re not a fool.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue with you anymore. He just kissed you, deeply, thoroughly, the way you always imagined a kiss should be.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

You met him with as much as he gave and reached up to touch his cheek. It felt a little rough under your fingers, just like you remembered. You would probably always remember that feeling, long after you left the park.

That evening, you packed as many bags as you could. You put together the savings you’d been collecting for a few months. It had been at your coworker Jess’s advice, ever since you started feeling the inkling that something wasn’t right in your marriage.

After you were all packed, you took one last, long look at the space you had tried to make your home. With one last tear trailing your cheek, you stepped out of the apartment. You took the bus uptown, where you later checked into a hotel. 

When your husband finally got home from work, he would find a one-page letter written in your own hand. 

For once, Sam was actually home in his apartment. He was helping Dean take his suitcase to the front door after calling a taxi to come shortly. Sam wasn’t happy about it though.

“You don’t have to go so soon, Dean,” said Sam.

Dean gave a humorless laugh. He grabbed his coat from the rack and threw it on.

“I’ve gotta get back to the house. It’s already been empty too long,” he said. Three years too long. “Fact is, I’m just getting in your way here.”

He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes as he went to the door, but Sam stopped him with a pressing hand on his arm, tugging him back.

“Hey,” Sam said, his brows furrowed. “That’s not true. Where’d you get that idea?”

Dean raised his brows. “You mean the way you’ve haven’t been home more than a few hours a night? The way the only time I see you is if I go find you at that office. You should open up a Bed n’ Breakfast there. You’d make a double killing in this town.”

Sam wilted. “Dean, we opened the firm barely a month ago. I’m just trying to—”

Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, relenting.

“Hey, look. I’m not judging you, Sammy. I’m not,” he said. “You’re building something. I know that. I just need to go figure out how to do the same, whatever that means for me.”

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

The corner of Dean’s mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon,” he said.

“How soon is soon?” Sam asked. It was something their mother used to say to John whenever he called late, promising he’d come home after long days in town buying supplies for the farm.

“The divorce papers will be served to Michael Milligan,” Sam added, pointedly raising his brows. “She…could use your support.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of you. His hand slipped from Sam’s shoulder.

“She’s got a strong head on her shoulders. She’ll be all right,” he said. He heard the honk of the taxi outside. He grabbed up his hat, set it on his head, and took up his bags. He turned back to Sam at the last moment. “I’m sure you’ll look out for her.”

It was somehow both a question, and an imploring charge. Sam sighed, but he nodded in agreement. His brother could be so very stubborn. Once he got an idea of what he thought he needed to do, there was almost no talking him out of it.

Sam opened the door for him and walked him out to the car, helping him with his bags. Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you.

Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.

Dean released him first with a smile, and a heavy pat of Sam’s shoulder. He turned and climbed into the cab’s backseat. Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

Dean took up his suitcase as the train pulled into the station. He stepped up onto the platform and retrieved the ticket from his pocket, but he paused, hearing a familiar voice shouting his name.

He turned his head and saw Sam rushing to meet him at the platform.

“What’s the matter? What’re you doing here?” Dean asked in surprise. He didn’t like the wary apprehension written across Sam’s face.

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

AN: Come on, we needed at least one cliffhanger in this series! 😘 What do you think Sam rushed over to tell Dean? What did you think about their "goodbye," as well as her and Dean's goodbye? ...And are you ready for all the drama that's about to go down? lol 

Next Time:

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. Maybe it was Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there both disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand. 

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you.

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[rayyanishere1]

"Studying? Yeah, Totally."

A Short FiddleStan Oneshot

(Part of the Loser Ford AU, but isn't relevant to the lore whatsoever lmao)

One night, Ford announced that he'd be at the library for a couple of hours.

"Knock yourself out, Sixer."

Once he left, Stan and Fiddleford looked at each other.

"Wanna..?"

"You don't even have to ask."

Stan led Fiddleford to the couch with only one motive in mind.

Forcing him to watch trashy television! They spent good money on that TV, and by God, they were gonna use it.

"Ladies and Gents, welcome back to 'Your Guess Could Be Royally Wrong!' The show where you don't win prizes, but you don't get punished, either. I'm your host, Zain Squalus—"

Ah, yes, gameshows. The peak of entertainment.

"Is this really what you wanna watch?"

"It's either this, weird chick dramas, or the news."

Welp, can't argue with that.

Fiddleford tried many times to make a move; pretending to yawn to wrap his arm around Stan's shoulder, not very subtly inching his hand towards Stan's thigh. Hell, he tried to go in for a kiss at least 3 times!

Without fail, something would make Stan dodge his advances. Oh, he suddenly has to shift a little in the opposite direction to grab something, oh, something shocking happened and he needed his whole body to react to it.

Seems fate was planning on cockblocking Fiddleford today. Not cool, man. Not cool.

During a commercial break, Stan left to get some snacks. That gave Fiddleford some time to think.

It was obvious that subtlety was getting him absolutely nowhere. He just had to be a little more direct, right? Yeah, that's definitely it.

Stan returned with a bowl of chips and sat back down. Now was time for Fiddleford's master plan.

He used every tactic he knew all at once. Wrapping an arm around Stan's shoulder, leaning in closer. Maybe he should also try getting Stan's mind off of this weird gameshow he was so invested in...

"You know, Stanley, we're home alone."

"I would hope so, yeah."

"And we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, we are! We're watching Your Guess Could Be Royally Wrong, the totally original gameshow based in Oregon."

"I just thought that, with Stanford gone, we'd be doing something else."

"...I don't follow."

That's Stan Pines for you, folks. The dumbest genius on Earth.

"Stanley..."

Fiddleford didn't know if he wanted to laugh, cry, or scream. Instead, he decided that his plan of being direct was the right way to go.

"Stanley Pines."

"That's my name. Am I in trouble?"

"You're going to be if you don't kiss me right now."

"Haha, what?"

∆∆∆

The TV buzzed on in the background as they practically devoured each other's faces.

"Fidds, if you were this—hah—pent up, you could've just told me.."

"I tried to! For an entire hour!"

"Wait, really?"

"Lord, yes! I suppose something was keeping you from noticing."

"Uh huh.."

Deeming the couch to be too uncomfortable, Fiddleford took it upon himself to bring them somewhere more suitable for their.. Activity.

He picked Stan up like he weighed nothing and carried him to the bedroom.

Many kisses later, the two were shirtless and all over each other. It was like they were trying to fit multiple days worth of making out into one session. To be fair, though, it wasn't often that they had alone time like this.

Stan pulled away for a moment, much to Fiddleford's dismay.

"Ford's been out later than usual. He could come back any minute..."

Just as he said that, they heard the front door open.

Oh, God.

They rushed to put something on, not bothering to check what they had grabbed. If Ford saw them like this, in their shared space, Lord knows they'd never hear the end of it.

"Wait, are you wearing my—"

Too late to change now!

A few lazy knocks came from the door before Ford went in. He didn't even look at them, he just dropped his bag on the floor and flopped face first onto his bed.

Stan sighed in relief. It was a good thing that Ford was so tir—

"Wait."

The couple tensed up, expecting to get berated for their "inappropriate behaviour." Instead, Ford just took his glasses off and put them on his side table before promptly passing back out.

That was close...

[maskedcrawford]

Code Red

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: That time of the month comes and GD helps you through it.

Warnings: Mentions of blood. Nothing too bad but its there. GD being an absolute sweetheart<3

A/N: Thank you darlin' for the request! This was super cute and I hope it's what you wanted, if not feel free to let me know!

Masterlist

Requests: OPEN

“This should be the last box,” you say as you and Jiyong are now standing in the living room of his penthouse looking at the boxes of your things. Moving in with him was really exciting and when you had said yes to the idea, he couldn’t of been more enthused.

“Great, how about I make us some dinner and we’ll unpack some after we eat?”  He puts arm around your waist pulling you close.

“Sounds perfect.” You give him a chaste kiss before he walks off to the kitchen. You get a large comfy blanket out and snuggle up on the couch with it. You doze off for a short while and before you know Jiyong is gently shaking you, telling you to wake up.

“Hmm?” you focus your eyes on your boyfriend.

“Dinner’s ready, jagi,” he smiles. You nod your head, still a little fuzzy from sleep. He prepared your favorite dishes and brings out a bottle of champagne.

“To new roommates,” he winks as he fills up the glasses. You giggle and clink the glasses together.

“I love you,” he blurts and you feel a slight blush rush your cheeks.

“I love you, more,” you say before you both start to devour the meal on your plates. Turns out moving in can work up quite the appetite. After dinner you two begin to unpack your boxes. Jiyong takes some of your things to the new shared bedroom and as you grab a box off the floor you notice something red on the couch where you were sitting and your face goes pale.

“Oh no, no no no,” you drop the box as you whisper to yourself. You dash to the bathroom and just as you suspected, your monthly visitor had arrived. You sigh dramatically and search around the bathroom for pads or tampons. He didn’t have a single one. Your stomach twisted in knots. The back of your sweatpants is now stained with the same blood that was on the couch. You groan.

“Y/n?” you freeze and look at the door.

“Ye-yeah?” you call out trying to sound casual.

“Everything ok? You’ve been in there for a minute,” his voice is dripping with concern.

“I’m, uh, I’m,” you sigh.

“I need a tampon.” You say slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, ok. I can run out and get some,”

“No I have some in my bag. And Ji?” you call out.

“Yeah?”

“Can you grab me another pair of sweatpants?” your voice is sheepish and he tilts his head at the door.

“Sure, give me a second,” he makes his way to the kitchen to grab your bag and get your product. As he checks the boxes to find your pants he notices the red stain on the couch. He quietly grabs some cleaner and scrubs the area cleaning effectively taking out the blood. He gets your pants and brings you what you need.

“Can I come in,” he asks as he knocks on the door.

“Yeah,” you were standing there waiting for him. You take a few minutes to get yourself cleaned up and when you come out he’s gone. You check your phone for a text.

Be back soon babe.

You furrow your brows but quickly shrug as you grab a few things from your toiletries box and put them in the bathroom. As you walk out you remember the spot on the couch and grab some cleaning supplies only to find it was gone. You face flushes a little and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You really do have the best boyfriend. Just then you hear the door open and shut behind him. You take the cleaning products to the kitchen and see Jiyong with a couple of bags.

“What’s all that?” He gives you a grin and pulls out your favorite candy, a new stuffed animal, some medication, and a heating pad.

“I thought these might help.” He says shyly and you smile down at the floor for a moment.

“Come on, let’s go lay in bed,” he grabs the stuff he bought and takes you to your new room.

“Wait, hold on,” he says dramatically earning a confused look from you.

“We must do this right,” he gives you a cheeky grin as he sets the bag on the table in his room, you stand right outside the door way.

“What do you mean?” He comes by your side and puts his arms under your back and the backs of your legs, picking you up bridal style.

“Ji,” you giggle. He carries you over the threshold and sets you on the bed gently, giving you soft sweet kiss.

“I’m pretty sure that’s only for when you’re married.” You smirk.

“Then we’ll call that practice,” he winks and you blush as you get underneath the covers. He grabs the heating pad and candy and lays beside you.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” you mumble as he turns on your favorite movie, Rapunzel. He scoots his body next yours, snuggling up into. You stroke his hair.

“Anything for my lady,” he says as he places a delicate kiss on your stomach before laying the heating pad over you stomach.  

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[semisslave]

♡ Give me your sound, making your song going loud... ♡ (pt. 2)

Contents: WLW, Guitarist!Se-mi x Singer!R

Warnings: none!

Part 1

After you woke up, you showered really fast. You put on a pink crop top, a short black skirt, pink boots, a black hat, pink sunglasses and a pink with black bag. You put on some makeup and stylize your hair. You were really nervous because of today's results (and seeing Se-mi again). You grabbed your phone and saw a message in your band's group chat

"Mi-na will pick everyone up at 12 pm."

You applied some perfume and waited for them to come. They picked you up and went to the same place as yesterday to announce the winner.

All the bands stood on stage, nervous. The announcer started naming the bands from least voted to most voted. He ended naming the other places and stopped in the two last places, the finalist, Lost kisses, and The Roselights. He said that they would continue after a break.

You go to the backstage with all the other bands, some of them were leaving disappointed and some others wished you luck. You just sat on a chair and started scrolling nervously through your phone, trying to distract yourself.

Se-mi walked towards you and sat beside you.

"We're both finalists now... I'm glad I have a decent rival"

Rival? Is that what you were to her after what happened yesterday?

"Yeah... Good luck, Se-mi." You said smiling

"I like your smile, I guess that'll be the only good thing about you winning."

You smiled and blushed. How could she be so mean and sweet at the same time?

"You smell nice. What perfume is it?"

"It's a mist... Strawberry pound cake from Bath & Body works."

"Sounds like something that could give me diabetes... But it suits you." She said jokingly.

"Thanks...?"

"Well... good luck, pretty girl" She said before she walked towards her band mates.

"What was that?!" Asked Ji-hye, one of your band mates.

"We were just talking..."

"I hate that bitch, she's always so mean to everyone... She didn't tell you anything bad, did she?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Good, we'll have to be on stage in 5 minutes and prepare to receive our answer... Let's just hope we win... I'll see you there."

Now, you were standing on the stage, nervous, waiting for the answer that could change your whole life

"Thank you to every voter who participated in choosing our next big band! We'll finally tell you who the majority chose... The winner of this competition is..."

You grabbed the hand of your band mate, Mi-na, trying to remain calm. Se-mi seemed very calmed even tho this could change her life too. She even winked at you when the countdown started on the screen.

3

2

1

"Congratulations to The Roselights for winning and becoming Sony Music's next artists!"

You hugged with your band mates, crying, and not believing what was happening right now.

Se-mi just stared codly but gave you a small smirk before leaving the stage with her band.

You felt kinda bad now.

You and your band went backstage after celebrating. You found Se-mi alone again sitting on a chair.

"Congratulations..." She said to all your band. They just ignored her but you didn't.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry..."

"Why would you be sorry?" She said lifting you chin for you to look at her. "Your band was great too, you deserve it."

You smiled and thanked her.

"I need to rest after all this stress, but we should hang out some day."

"That'll be great... Rest well, see you anytime soon."

Se-mi smiled and kissed your hand as a goodbye. Then, she left, leaving you blushed and confused.

"She really is an opportunist" Said your band mate Hye-ju

"What do you mean?" You asked confused.

"I mean... We won and now we're signing with Sony Music, and suddenly she decides to be kind to us after all this time being rude. She's using us, using you to secure a place in this industry... She'll become your friend and then probably will try to ride on your fame after we debut."

"I never thought it that way..." You said thinking about it, it could be right or it could be wrong, but it hurted you.

"You're way too innocent when it comes to seeing through people, ___." Said Hye-ju after grabbing her things. "Are you coming to drink with us to celebrate?"

"No, I'll pass this time. I'm really tired."

"Well, next time it'll be... You must be really tired because you never reject a drinking invitation" She says chuckling as your band mates got into the car.

"I... I am"

You went back to your house thinking about what happened and what Hye-ju said about Se-mi... Was that true? You knew people had sex without giving it a meaning or developing feelings, but the way she took care of you after it was what made you feel butterflies. How she cleaned you up being extremely delicate, how she kissed your forehead after cleaning you up, how she brought you home making sure you arrived safe and sound and how she called you pretty every chance she had... Fuck, you were in love.

Many weeks passed after your band signed with Sony Music and now was working in their debut album under Sony Music.

Your "friendship" with Se-mi got stronger, even tho you still had some doubts on her intentions, you couldn't say no every time she asked you to go to the mall, to a restaurant or to fuck to relieve stress.

This time you were leaving her apartment that she shared with her band mates. She went with you to the elevator and said goodbye to you outside the building. You were walking until you noticed Se-mi's favorite headphones in your bag. You started doubting if you should return it to her now or just wait until the next time you see her. You decided to go back since they were her favorite ones.

You arrived to her apartment door but just when you were about to knock you heard something, something you wish you didn't hear...

I know this is bad, don't remind me 😭🙏

Listen to Cotton Candy by Loossemble btw, that's where the title came from (Promoting my girls)

Promise I'll drop a part 3 soon