#can you tell i like the hello neighbor books
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spring-vibes-only · 2 months ago
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They could never make me hate you Mrs tillman
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daradiostarzz · 5 months ago
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What is your Ted like? He’s so handsome 😘
Idk which one you're talking about but like... Both of them are absolutely horrible and abusive my moots can vouch (like the books!)
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One I took an absolutely extreme measure but both tend to have a narcism and need to be in control (both also get super guilt trippy with Aaron/Erin) it's just one is based on slasher and Patrick Bateman with the unempthatic nature but need to look like a good man and the other is basically a man child who controls his family
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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 9 months ago
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Childs play (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader [ex-Childhood best friend turned Fwb AU]) Part 1
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Hiiiii! I’m so freaking excited for y’all to read this I’m literally shaking! This will only be 1 part. (Edit: I’ve changed my mind it will get a second part but it won’t be put right away) Shout out to @chickenshit03 for beta reading the one shot. Absolute sweetheart 🫶🏼. Not proofread, enjoy!!
(Y/N)-Your name.
NSFW!! SMUT!! MDNI!! Cursing, light choking during the deed , protecting PinV, Miguel being a big meanie near the end, Comfort/Hurt, lmk if I can’t think of anymore
Word count: 4.6k
Part 2
Masterlist
Knock knock…
“Hello, I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I wanted to introduce myself, me and my family just moved in next door and I wanted to introduce ourselves.” Your mother said as she stood at her neighbors door, you hid timidly behind her leg as she spoke to a Hispanic woman with curly dark hair. Your eyes wandered around her living room, or at least as much as you could catch from your spot. Not paying any mind to the conversation they were having when your eyes spotted a young boy around your age, about five or so walking past with a few legos in hand.
Your shyness was quickly overtaken with curiosity as you went to pull on your mother’s hand, she must have been watching you stare at the brunette, because before you could even turn up to ask her if you could go play, she was already shooing you in the direction of him as her and the other lady went to go talk over coffee in the kitchen.
He didn’t glance up at you as you sat down in front of his spot on the living room floor, being too preoccupied on the Star Wars set he was working on.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“My name’s (Y/N).”
“Cool.”
“What’s your name?”
“Miguel.”
You paused, shifting to sit down better before speaking again.
“Can I help? I love legos.”
He stayed quiet, and for a second you think he’ll say no, until he shrugged and moved the instruction book so you both could read it, making your lips come up in a smile.
“Sure.”
“You can teach me to play street fighter a million times and I will never understand it.” You huffed as you dropped the controller on your lap and leaned back on the couch, the tv in his living room sounded out a “finish her” as Miguel’s character killed yours, you couldn’t even be bothered to remember the names, peeved off that’d he beat you for the upteenth time, him not even having the courtesy to let you win one round.
“I’m not gonna be sorry for you being bad.” He retorted in a teasing tone, sticking out his tongue at you, and blew a raspberry. Your arms quickly crossover your chest as you puff your cheeks out with a pout.
“You’re so mean to me Miguel, I hate you.” You mumbled the half-lie to the other ten year old, looking away as you felt your cheeks heat with embarrassment, you didn’t even notice his movements until you felt him grab for your hand, turning your head to realize he was now standing in front of your spot on the couch.
“You don’t hate me, I’m your best friend.” He states, making you nod your head in confirmation after a beat, “Good. Because you’re my best friend too.” You smiled.
“Can we play something else then?”
“Nope.”
“Ughhh.”
“(Y/N), it’s your turn to spin the bottle.” Mj’s voice snapped you out of your head, suddenly aware of all the other fourteen years olds turning to stare at you. Was it a bit embarrassing you were about to lose your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle?
Half-dried nail-polished fingers gently grabbed the base of the empty Coke bottle, praying to god no one saw the way your hand trembled slightly, as you gave it a good twist. As your eyes tracked the blur of clear glass, you got your lower lip, silently hoping it was someone who you wouldn’t fluster up in embarrassment when you had to tell them who was your first kiss in the four walls of the lunch room. Like Kyle, or Ben or-
“Oooo- you got Miguel!” One of the other girls giggled as your eyes shot up to where the tip was pointing and surely, there he sat in front of you. Miguel was good…yeah, great even! You trusted him, he was your best friend since you were practically in dippers…So with a fine silent look of confirmation, you crossed the circle, closing your eyes as your lips connected for the first time.
Is it normal for your heart to skip a beat during a kiss? God how red is my face right now? Have I been holding it for too long? I wonder if he’s enjoying it, he hasn’t pulled away so that’s a good sign right? I should probably stop now. It's been like four seconds.
You finally pull away, sitting down on your knees as you bring a hand up to wipe some excess saliva away from the cover of your mouth. The sound of the next person going to spin the bottle muffles out around you as you focus on the weird flutter in your stomach.
“SLOW DOWN MIG-YOU’RE DRIVING LIKE A MANIAC!” You yelled as your left hand flew to grab at your seat belt, right hand gripping the overhead handle so hard your knuckles were turning white, pushing yourself as much as you could into the passenger seat at you could while he just let out an eye roll and chuckle as you were being dramatic (you weren’t).
“I’m not taking driving advice from someone who doesn’t have their license yet.”
“You got your license yesterday! I don’t turn sixteen for another four months!”
“Don’t care, you could ever shut up or take the bus.”
You couldn’t respond right away because another scream came from your throat as he turned a corner.
“If I die in this stupid car, I’m going to haunt the shit out of you O’Hara!”
“I’m not gonna let you die, stop being dramatic.” He scoffed, finally pulling up to the school parking lot, finally slowing down as he looked for a place to park. His arm comes around the back of your car seat as he goes to backwards park in an empty spot. “See I didn’t let you die.”
“I’m actually traumatized…” You muttered, eyes still wide as you kept still in your seat. Miguel let out a huff and he goes to take your seatbelt off once the car was shut off.
“If I buy you some subway during lunch will you stop complaining?”
“…yes.”
“Maybe I could just take a gap year-or-or go to the community college nearby, just until I can transfer, then I can try for Columbia again?” You kept fumbling your words, looking at the rejection letter in your hands. If you tried to focus on it enough, you’d be able to hear the paper shaking lightly in your hands. Glossy eyes trying to rapidly blink away tears before they fell on the paper. Miguel quickly shook his head as he placed his coffee cup down on the table of the cafe you two would frequent.
“No. Not happening, I’ll just reject my application and we can go to Stanford together in California.” He told you, making you copy his actions as you placed the paper down next to your other University letters.
“Are you crazy? That’s your dream school! I am not letting you do that for me. I’d never forgive myself for that.” You admitted, looking at him in those familiar brown eyes, praying to god yours weren’t growing bloodshot from the emotional moment between you both. Miguel letting out a heavy sigh, his hand going to run through his pushed back brown locks as he looked down at his letters again. The silence that grew over you two was almost suffocating, a thing it never felt like around him. It made your heart ache, trying to keep back a whine and some tears as you closed your eyes and took in a shaky breath before opening them again and finally breaking the silence between you both. “I mean…FaceTime is a thing right?” Miguel raised a brow at your sentence, before it clicked in his mind what you were implying. Quickly shaking his head, his hand coming up to stop you.
“No. No. I can’t even go a week without seeing you, I’ve lived next door to you for thirteen years and you expect me to be okay with us being two thousand miles away from each other!?” You glanced around you when Miguel raised his voice slightly, luckily other than you and the owner the place was practically barren.
“Mig, we’ll figure it out! We’ll call and text, FaceTime, and I’ll come back for breaks! And besides, you don’t strike me as a type to enjoy California.” You attempted to lighten the mood, thankfully being met with an amused grunt and his lip twitching up slightly.
“Fine… just, promise we aren’t going to end up like all those friends who stop talking because we’re going to separate college’s alright?”
Your smile grew. “I promise.”
Ring…
Ring…
Rin- “Hey it’s Miguel,” your ears perked up, quickly scrambling up from your position on your bunk bed, where you were laying on your stomach, “I can’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message.” Beep.
“Hey Miguel… just wanted to see how you were, I finished my exams for the semester, and I’m going back to Neuva York tomorrow. I wanted to see if you’d want to hang out during the break, let me know… bye…” You mumbled before you hung up the call, tossing your phone on the other side of your bed. Running your hands through your head, letting out a heavy sigh. Closing your eyes to keep any forming tears of frustration from spilling out.
You and Miguel weren’t as close as you’d like to be anymore. How did a few months apart completely unwind the tight knit threat that had kept you both close for years? It had started out well, you did good at keeping your side of the promise and he did as well. Texting every hour, FaceTiming him every weekend, calling every night while you both studied, it almost felt like nothing had changed.
Then, classes became harder, you’d both start to develop new friends, new routines. The text became less frequent, now lagging to every few days, FaceTime sessions were now non-existent and your daily calls now became monthly, never lasting more than half an hour. You hated how you two were growing apart, and it hurt to see that Miguel didn’t seem to care. You didn’t have to see him in person to notice his new friend group was starting to change his personality. He was starting to seem more stoic, dry, it almost seemed like he was constantly agitated or something of the sort when you finally would get a hold of him. Still… despite the gradual change he seemed to be going through you still had hope that deep down he was still the same old Miguel you had grown to love and cherish. And that spark of hope only grew when you heard the faint buzz of your phone from the foot of your bed, quickly grabbing it to read a new message.
Text me when you get in tomorrow.
This was not what you had in mind.
Somehow Miguel had convinced you to go to some random bar that didn’t ID with him and his college buddies. “I’ll be fun” he said, “you’ll love them” he said. Now here you were forced to listen to some snobby trust fund kid bitch and moan about how he had to inherit his father’s company and blah blah blah. You weren’t even paying attention anyways, his words were going into one ear and flying out the other, opting to sip on your mixed drink to help keep you from banging your head into the bar counter. Tonight had simply e been the worst. Not to mention Miguel had been acting… different.
Maybe he just wasn’t good with distance, but it still struck you as odd how the second you were both finally in close proximity it was almost as if nothing had happened, like your friendship with each other wasnt badly strained for weeks on end. It didn’t stop there though, no no no. Because now that you were with him in front of his new friends and all dolled up he had been more… touchy, and not in a way he had been before.
A hand on your thigh, an arm around your waist, a finger idly twisting and twirling your hair. It was so… intimate… like he wanted them to think there was something there that was more than just a childhood friend. You couldn’t say that you hated it, it was just unexpected.
“Hey… let’s get out of here?” Miguel’s whisper snapped you out from your thoughts. The way his voice murmured lowly against your shoulder as he all but rubbed against it like a cat making your cheeks flare up and a shiver ran down your back. Quickly ignoring the feeling of the spike in your heart rate and the wetness growing in your panties, nodding as you go to stand up, not wanting to be in the over cramped bar any longer and just waiting to head back to Miguel’s place since you were staying there for a week. Feeling like your knees were going to give out from underneath you when he slid his large hand from between your shoulder blades and upwards to squeeze your right shoulder.
Not sure if your hazy mind was from the alcohol or from his actions anymore. Not sure if things would go back to how they were before you’d left when he went to leave sloppy wet kisses on your neck as soon as his apartment door was closed and locked. Not sure if you could look at him the same way after he made you see stars from the comfort of his sheets. Still you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, he felt too good.
“Fuck- felt so fucking good…” He hissed as he pulled out from between your legs, taking a moment to let himself to catch his breath before rolling the condom off and tossing it in the trash can. You didn’t respond, still out of it from the aftermath of experiencing nirvana in the form of drunk sex. Letting out a sigh as you turned to your side and closed your eyes as drowsiness starts to seep into your bones. Feeling the other side of the bed dip before a strong arm came around to hug your waist.
“…Miguel?”
“Yeah?”
“This… was a one time thing right?”
A pause, a heavy sigh before you felt his soft lips kiss the nape of your neck.
“… of course.”
A flash of light shined through the darkness of your studio apartment. You didn’t even need to check the notification screen in order to know who it was. Only one person would text you at two in the morning.
Come over?
If you told your high school self that the only time you ever saw Miguel was in the deeps of night while you were tangled in his sheets, she would have thought you were lying. The most fucked up part was that it was starting to affect you mentally, how your best friend had turned into a booty call because of one night from a drunk fuck seven years ago, it was painfully obvious you’d never get to the point where you’d be able to go back to the way you both once were. You couldn’t help but cling to the last broken bits he was willing to give you though. So every time he calls or texts you at random hours of the night since you’ve moved back to Nueva York, you’d show up at his doorstep like you are now.
“I know it’s late, I'm sorry, these Master exams are kicking my ass.” He apologized while letting you in after a few seconds. Closing and locking the front door before gently pushing you against it, his lips already finding their usual spot against the crook of your neck. Calloused hands began to slip underneath the baggy material of your hoodie, his large fingers gently grazing the exposed skin, you’ve learned to stop wearing shirts to these sessions a long time ago. “Need to blow off some steam…”
“Miguel…”The way you’d breathe out his name always made him feel like he had died and gone to heaven, your hands wandering upwards against the black fabric of his tank top. His lips separated from the blossoming red and purple mark they left in their wake so he can pull your jacket off before stripping off his own shirt. Your arms quickly wrap around his neck, any guilt that had been lingering in your mind quickly melted away when his hands ran down to your hips underneath your waistband, thumb fidgeting with the thin fabric of your panties. “Need you-“
“Need you too Cariño.” He muttered before going to place a gentle peck against the edge of your lips, you couldn’t help but let out a small whimper at the movement. You’ve noticed he never kisses you directly on your lips, always on the edge, on your neck or cheek. You would have felt your heart ache if the feeling of your core throbbing when his hand dragged your bottoms down to squeeze your ass wasn’t more overwhelming, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.
Half of the time you two didn’t even make it to the bedroom, finding a spot on the hallway wall or against the kitchen counter. This was one of those times, he stumbled over to the couch, too distracted on leaving hickies all over your chest and dipping his fingers into your wet cunt. You let out a gasp when you landed on the brown leather rather harshly, making the couch move a few inches from its original spot due to the weight of both of your bodies hastily climbing on top of it. He made quick work to strip the rest of your clothes from both of your bodies once he made sure you hadn’t accidentally hit your head. Quickly slipping a condom before lining himself up.
“Fuuuuck-fuck…” He groaned, as he pushed the tip of his cock between your folds. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream from the deliciously painful stretch that he always provides. Giving you a second to adjust to his length and girth before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours, each thrust making your silent whimpers and whines turn into pornographic moans and incoherent babblings. “Love filling you up. You love this cock don’t you?” He taunts, it was so cruel the way the words fell from his mouth but you loved it nonetheless. Nodding rapidly as you gushed around him for the first time tonight.
“Nah uh… need to heard you say it. Use your words.” He smirks, enjoying the plop plop sound that started to quietly reverberate off the walls of his living room. Glancing down momentarily to watch a thin layer of cum that was forming a ring around the base of his cock. “Tell me how much you love it.” He urged.
“Fuck-fuck… love it so much.” You moaned, overstimulated from your orgasm, squirming underneath him just the way he liked. He couldn’t help the way his ego swells at the way you feel apart for him.
“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” He cooed as he propped your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle, his sweet words always messed with your foggy mind. “Such a sweet little thing, all for me.”
“Don’t-don’t say that Mig.” You whined, head turning to the side, as your hand dropped from his chest to drop off the couch. His right hand quickly leaves your hip and runs up to your neck, keeping his grip light as he props your head back to face him with his index finger.
“Aww poor baby, can’t handle when I talk all sweet to her, huh?” He let out an airy half chuckle. Despite the honey-like toned he’d use, the underlying taunt was always present. “Let me make it up to you baby.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust deeper into your core, making your hips subconsciously jump up to meet his.
“Mig-Miguel, I’m so-so close.” You whimpered and whined, clenching around his length, his hips stuttering slightly as you felt the heat building in your lower belly start to grow with each thrust.
“Cum with me baby… Cum all over this cock.” He groaned.
“Fuck-Fuck.” With one final thrust, you finally came undone around him, his name falling from your lips over and over like a mantra. Miguel followed suit, stopping his thrust while fully inside your cunt, letting out a deep groan as he came.
“Shit… You okay?” He asked once he was able to collect himself enough, climbing off top of you before rolling the used condom off his softing member, picking up his forgotten boxers and placing them back on.
“Mhm…” You nodded, trying to stabilize yourself on shaky arms and legs. Miguel seemed to have noticed, picking up your clothes from the floor and making his way over to hand them to you.
“Let me get you some water.” He said before retreating to his kitchen. The only sound in the air now was the faint noises of him rustling around his cabinets, and the quiet shuffling of clothes. Hating the feeling of putting your legging and hoodie back on due to the thin layer of sweat still on your skin. Once you were decent enough Miguel came back with a glass of water and handed it to you. Mumbling a “thank you” before taking a sip. Miguel cleared his throat as he sat down on the other edge of the couch, eyes cast down, hands rubbing anxiously together, finally deciding to break the steadily growing awkward silence. “Look, (Y/N), I wanted to talk to you about something… something kinda important.”
You raised a brow, noticing the sudden change in his behavior, taking another quick sip before placing the half empty glass on his coffee table. “What’s up?”
He released a heavy sigh as he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, still not making eye contact as he continued. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just put it out there…” He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, “We need to stop seeing each other.”
Huh?
“I’m sorry what?” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop, your face quickly filling up with confusion and a bit of disbelief as you stood up. Miguel follows your actions as he puts his hands up in defense, but you continue before he could try explaining. “You can’t just fuck me on your couch then tell me afterwards we need to stop. You know how much of an asshole you sound?”
“I know, I know it makes me sound like an asshole.” He tried to reason with you, going to finally put on his shorts and tank top that were still on the floor. Not feeling like being half-naked during this conversation. “Look, there’s this girl I’ve been seeing and it’s getting pretty serious-“
“A girl you’ve been seeing?” You repeated in disbelief. “You can’t be for real.”
“Well, we never agreed to be exclusive. It’s not like we were going to start dating or anything.”
Ouch.
You had to turn away so they didn’t see the tears building in the corner of your eyes, but even with your face hidden your body language gave you away.
“I know we weren’t exclusive but fuck Miguel.” You shake your head, going to make your way to the door. “I’ve known you since we were five and you’re just gonna throw me away like some old toy?!”
“Hey-no. That’s not-that’s not what I mean, you know that.” He takes a step forward, grabbing your arm before you could get too far. “We can’t sleep together anymore, but we can still be friends.” You couldn’t help the scoff that left your lips, finally gathering yourself enough to pull your arm away and face him again, not caring if he saw the tears cascading down your cheeks. He’s made you cry one too many times, it’s about time he saw what he did to you. “We can still be friends! You’re still my best friend (Y/N)!” He couldn’t help but let his voice come out in more of a panic, a bit more rushed. You quickly shook your head.
“No. No, we aren’t best friends anymore Miguel, we haven’t been in a long, long time. I know that, you know that. So don’t pretend like we are just because your afraid of losing your emotional support fuck buddy.” You finally head toward the door and towards your car in the driveway, not turning to face him as you hear him call your name. “Don’t call me, don’t text me. If you're as serious about this girl as you say you are, you’d do the right thing and block me. Because I’m so tired of waiting around and pretending like one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m in love with you.”
You froze once the words came out, hand still on the car door handle as you came to the realization you finally admitted the secret you’ve been holding for the past ten years. Your free hand going to cover your mouth as you finally turn to look at Miguel, the look of shock from the confession was evident. You shook your head as you attempted to back track.
“Wait, Miguel I didn’t mean to tell you that-it just happened-“
“… You should leave.” His voice suddenly became stoic, his face hardening so it was hard to read his emotions. “This is just helping my case. Leave.” The tears flowed harder down your face as he slammed the front door shut. Leaving you to sob into the emptiness of the night as you finally let all the pain from the last seven years catch up to you.
You weren’t surprised to see your text bubbles turn green the next morning.
“I really think this one is it.”
“Me too!”
“He’ll love you in that dress.”
“Aww I can already see the waterworks.”
All you could do was smile, your hands repeatedly smooth non-existent wrinkles as you looked at yourself in the mirror, you looked like a real life princess. After what felt like hours you finally found the wedding dress. You couldn’t be happier.
“Alright Miss future Osborn.” Your maid of honor squealed, finally getting your attention, “You need to get out of that dress, you need to meet up Harry to look over the venue.”
You sighed, as you turned back to admire the white wedding dress one more time. “You’re right, I don’t wanna keep him waiting just cause I can’t stop staring at myself.” You giggled, before heaving to the back.
You and Harry have been dating for four years now, and he had proposed last month during your anniversary. You couldn’t be happier, he treats you like a queen, better than any other Man you’ve ever been in romantic contact with.
Once you had finally finished changing out of your regular clothes, you grabbed your phone out of your purse. Sending a quick text telling him that you found a dress, before doing a quick check on insta, wanting to look at the engagement pictures you posted on your page last week. But the soft smile on your face quickly dropped, like your heart did to your stomach when you checked your activity page.
Miguel.Ohara.99 and 4 others liked your post.
Miguel.Ohara.99 started following you.
1 message request from Miguel.Ohara.99
Fuck.
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @scaryplanetdestroyer @miguels-aranita @beezusvreeland @raginghomo62 @miguelbaby @thedevax @vera4luv @alialucille
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silencesscreams · 11 months ago
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"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii
sad beautiful tragic
james potter x fem reader (angst)
a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them
warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”
you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.
he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.
sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.
during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.
until he kissed you.
it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.
“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.
one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.
“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.
“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.
“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.
when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.
sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.
it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.
he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.
the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.
but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.
your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.
life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.
christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?
when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.
a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.
once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:
“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.
on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.
when you sat at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.
after taking a bite from your dessert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.
as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.
“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.
“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.
he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.
“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.
“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.
“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.
“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.
“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to, i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.
“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.
“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?
“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.
“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.
“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.
“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.
“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming
“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.
“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”
“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.
“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?
you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.
“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.
“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.
“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.
it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.
2K notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 11 months ago
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🧊just come over, would ya?: sim jaeyun
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.2k
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synopsis: snow storm causes the whole apartment complex power to go out, in which your hot neighbor offers to help keep you warm…
genre: neighbors au!, neighbors to lovers, smut
warnings: swearing, jerking off, fingering, finger riding, unprotective sex, cuddly + funny jake ♡
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Your whole body shook, pulling yet another blanket over your body. 
Your sweatpants, sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and beanie were not enough to keep you warm through this power outage. 
This was one of the moments you wished you had a fireplace in your small apartment, yet here you are. 
What was supposed to be a small snowfall turned into a snowstorm and the whole apartment complex’s power went out with no word on how long it would take for the power to come back on. 
Your teeth grinded together as you pulled the blankets over your head, pulling your legs to your chest in hopes of getting warmer. 
You tried to sleep, hoping it would pass the time, but due to your freezing, sleep was not going to come. 
You decided to check your phone in hopes of seeing a message from the apartment complex's owner about when the power would be back but instead saw a text from your neighbor. 
Jake: How are you holding up? Heard you sneezed earlier. The building is way too quiet.  You: Obviously I’m freezing.  Jake: Oh, you don’t have a fireplace, right?
You rolled your eyes at your text from him. He was clearly teasing you for not having one. 
Jake was always teasing you any moment he could get. You both attend the same college and have many classes together, so once he moved next door the amount of “good neighbor” jokes he would say was more annoying than his shit-eating grin when he’d say them. 
You: Jake, you obviously know I don’t have a fireplace, don’t be a dick :) Jake: Want to come over and use mine? The fireplace obviously, not my dick. 
You bit your bottom lip in debate. It would be nice to finally be warm, but the thought of being stuck with Jake for god knows how long made you irritated. Mostly after his joke just now.
You: No thanks. I’m good.  Jake: Y/N, I can clearly hear your teeth chattering through these walls.  Jake: I am trying to be nice here.  Jake: Just come over, would ya? Jake: The door is unlocked. 
You knew the best option would be to rush next door and sit in front of the fireplace with him.
Fuck it. 
You jumped from your bed, slipped your feet into your slippers, and rushed out of your room. 
The hallway was way colder than inside your apartment. The darkness of the hall reminds you of something from a horror film, the moonlight outside being the only source of light. 
You quickly jumped in front of Jake’s door, knocking frantically. 
After a soft “come in” was heard from the other side, you opened the door and quickly stepped in shutting the door behind you. 
You quickly took in Jake’s living room, his couch being pushed up closer to the fireplace. 
Jake raised a hand from his couch, “Over here.”
You kicked your slippers off, ready to sit close to the fire, only for your smile to turn upside down seeing Jake sprawled out, lying down. 
The only thing you could see was his eyes, the rest of him being completely covered by his blanket. 
You stared back at him? raising a brow, “Move over?” 
Jake furrows his brows, “No, Hi? Hello? How are you? Nice weather we are having?” 
You rolled your eyes, “Hi Jake, the weather sucks, move over, ya?” 
Jake lifted the blanket off his body, patting his hand to his stomach. 
You blankly stared at him, confused. Until it clicked in your head. 
Jake could read you like a book, your facial expression telling exactly how you were feeling, “Y/N, just come lay down.”
You shook your head, “No, I will sit on the floor.” 
Jake rolled his eyes this time. This was further than ideal for him too. All he was trying to do was be nice. Even with the fireplace he was still freezing and can only imagine how cold you were. 
“Y/N, we would warm up faster, it’s basic science and survival tactics.” 
You tucked your lip between your teeth. You knew he was right, plus he has his couch so close to the fireplace that you wouldn’t be able to fully sit in front of it anyway. 
You rolled your eyes and dropped your arms at your side, “Fine!” 
Jake smiled at you as you laid down on top of him, your head nuzzling in his neck. He threw the blanket back over your body, his arms wrapping around you. 
You hated to admit it, but this was nice. Your body slowly warms up, but obviously not fast enough. 
“If we strip down, we'll warm up faster.” Jake teased. 
You weren’t looking at him but you could feel his smirk that was slapped across his face. 
“Shut up, Sim.” you scoffed at him and a little chuckle left his lips. 
“Hey, I am just saying.” he shrugged his shoulders and you barely looked up at him, glaring at him. 
Jake absolutely loved teasing you. He loved how easy it was. You looked way too cute to him when he got you all mad. 
The way you’d look at him and the smiles you would try to hide when you thought he was being funny. It pulled at his heart more than he’d like to admit. 
Jake closed his eyes and wrapped his arms a bit tighter around you, his main focus to help keep you warm. 
Unfortunately laying in the same position was making you uncomfortable. You slowly started to wiggle around, trying to lay more comfortably. 
The friction of you moving against him was sending Jake’s thoughts into other places, biting down on his lip and steadying his breathing to keep calm. 
But you noticed all the well the bulge growing in his sweatpants against your stomach. 
“Sim Jaeyun,” you warned, shifting your leg up a bit, accidentally rubbing your knee against his hard length. 
“Stop moving then, jeez.” Jake spat out, his heart racing against his chest. 
You could hear how fast his heart was going, how it threatened to beat out of his chest. 
You just wanted to be comfortable, “Let me get comfortable and I’ll stop moving, I promise.” 
You slowly lifted your leg a bit more, Jake’s hand flying to your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.
“Y/N,” he softly breathed out. You looked up at him, seeing the lust that filled his eyes, “If you keep moving on top of me, I can’t promise I’ll stay on my best behavior.” 
The way his voice spoke those words sent chills down your spine. You’ve never seen Jake look so serious and so…hot. 
You’ve always been attracted to Jake, he was such a good-looking man. But the Jake in front of you with lust and want written all over his face was enough to dampen your panties. With the way your name rolled off his tongue in warning made something in you click. 
Jake slowly laid his head back down on the armrest, his grip on your thigh not leaving. 
With the way Jake looked at this moment, made you want to test his limits. The way his eyes searched for something on the ceiling to focus on while his heart pounded and his dick twitched against your tummy. 
The hand that rested on his chest, you slowly slid down, your fingers brushing his soft skin where his shirt slid up from your leg. 
Jake hissed at your touch, his eyes closing, “Y/N, this is your last warning.” 
But you kept going, reaching your thumb to slide against his tip over his sweatpants, a soft “fuck” leaving his lips. 
You moved your hand down more, all your fingers grazing his clothed hard-on. His hand leaves your thigh to grip your hand. 
“If you keep up-“
“Kiss me.” you interrupted him. And that’s all it took. 
Jake’s lips found yours, one hand was placed at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other went back to your thigh. 
Jake kissed you with such hunger, his hand squeezing your thigh tightly. 
His tongue found its way into your mouth and rubbed against your own as he moaned on your lips. 
You snaked your hand down his sweatpants and underwear, wrapping your hand around his length, your thumb rubbing the precum around his tip. 
Jake released his lips from yours, resting his forehead on yours panting with each stroke your hand made. 
Strings of “Fuck fuck fuck fuck”, rolled off his tongue as you pumped him. 
You released him, sliding both hands up his torso and pulling his shirt along with them. 
Jake helped you remove his shirt and right after removing your own. Your shirts and beanie being thrown off somewhere else in the room. 
Jake kissed you again, his hands sliding from the sides of your face down to your shoulders, his fingers looping at your bra straps pulling them down. 
With just two fingers, Jake unclasped your bra and removed it from your body. 
The skin-to-skin contact drove you insane with how warm his body felt against your own. 
Jake squeezed your ass, a soft moan leaving your mouth and oh god it was music to his ears. 
Jake wanted to feel every inch of you. To worship your body the way it deserves to be. 
“Take your pants off,” he whispered, his thumbs looping into your sweatpants. 
You sat up getting rid of your pants and panties, your hands reaching for Jake helping him slide his off. 
His cock slapped against his abdomen, the precum glistening from the light of the fireplace. 
Jake’s hand snaked between your folds, groaning, “You’re so wet for me baby.” 
His long fingers pumped in and out of you. You flip your head back and dig your fingers into his chest. 
You rolled your hips against his fingers. Jake bit his lip at the site of you riding his fingers, your juices coating them.
God you were a sight to see, your facial expressions sending Jake over the deep in. 
He loved the way your hips rolled against his fingers, he needed to see how they’d work with his dick deep inside you. 
“Baby,” the Aussie man pled, “I need you on my cock, please.” 
You nodded, lifting yourself and lining the tip with your entrance. 
Jake threw his head back onto the couch’s arm as you slid down into him, “Oh fuck baby.” 
You started rolling your hips, placing your hands on his chest for support.
His hands went to your breasts, cupping both of them. Squeezing them with every roll of your hips against his. 
“Fuck baby, you look so beautiful riding my cock. Such a good girl for me.” 
“Hmmm, Jake, you f-feel so good.” you moaned out, sitting yourself up even more to bounce on his dick. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Y/N. Oh, fuck me.” Jake groaned, his hands flying to your hips, slamming you down onto him. 
He helped you pick up speed, the knot in your stomach ready to burst. 
Jake knew you were getting close with the way your breath became unsteady and how you clenched around him. 
He felt like he was in heaven being fucked by an angel. 
Jake has dreamed of this moment since the day he met you in class and knew it was fate when he moved in next door. 
The moment he heard your soft moans coming from the other side of his bedroom wall he dreamt of being the one making you moan. 
He tried so hard to cover his ears, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to be listening to, but found his hand wrapped around his cock as he pumped himself to your moans. 
Now that he could hear your moans clear as day in his ears drove him wild. 
“Jake, I-I’m cumming.” you pant, your movements becoming sloppy. 
Jake pulled your body back down onto his, lifting his legs and wrapping his arms around your waist holding you down into place fucking into you. 
Your hands went into Jake’s hair as you chanted his name. 
“Cum for me baby girl,” he said between breaths, “Make a mess on my cock for me, ya?” 
You let go, the ecstasy washing over you. 
“That’s my good girl, so fucking good for me.” 
Jake fucked you into overstimulation, his cock twitching inside you, ready for release. 
“Jake,” you whispered into his cheek, placing small kisses. 
“I’m cumming baby, fuck, I’m cumming.” 
Jake connected his lips back to yours as he pumped his load into you, moaning against your lips. 
Jake loosened his grip on your body, slowly moving his hands up and down your bare back as the kisses went from lustful to soft and sweet, filled with passion. 
The only sound heard was your lips moving against each other and the crackling of the fireplace. 
As if on cue, all the lights in his apartment came on. The sound of the heating system starting up. 
“Guess the power is back.” You whispered against his mouth, slowly laying your head down on his chest. 
“I don’t know about you, but I was plenty warm.” Jake teased, earning him yet another glare from you. 
“And we are back to teasing, I’m going home.” 
“No no, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jake said, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “I am not ready for you to go yet.” 
You giggled, “You know we are neighbors, right?” 
“Mmhm,” Jake hummed, “Make sure you always treat your neighbor well, never know when another snowstorm will hit.” 
You couldn’t be mad at him for that joke. He did keep you warm and won your heart over. 
“Y/N?” 
“Yes, Jake?” 
“Let’s do this more often.
a/n: this was a bit rushed and I apologize, but I still hope you all enjoyed it!
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2K notes · View notes
sweatervest-obsessed · 1 year ago
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New Shade of Green
Pairing: Spencer x Reader (gn!)
WC: 2.7k
TW: implications of murder, serial killer talk, mentions of abuse, crying, anger, swearing <3, Men sucking so bad
a/n: This was a request, which you can see here. Jealous Spencer was so fun to write! Enjoy babes!!!
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"Oh my god. Shut the fuck up! I didn't know you were the consultant for this case!" You hopped up out of your seat on the jet to greet the man you called your best friend. 
His eyes lit up when he saw you, wrapping an arm around you, squeezing you tightly. "I assume you didn't read the text I sent you last week."
You laughed and pulled out of the hug slightly, hand still on his arm. "I never read anything you send me."
Spencer, whose hand you had abandoned when you got up to say hi to Oliver, was zeroed in on the fact that your hand was still on Oliver's arm, and Oliver's arm was still slightly wrapped around your waist. 
"Team, this is Oliver Swerdanski, my best friend and specialist in classics--" 
"Norse mythology specifically." 
It was not lost on the team that you clearly had a type. Oliver was about 6 feet tall, in a sweater, and wearing wired glasses frames. He was slightly buffer than Spencer, but not as tall. (something Spencer noted the first time you had introduced the two)
The team nodded and said their hellos, more interested in the shifting dynamics of the plane since you hadn't left Oliver's side, opting to sit with him on the couch instead of your usual seat by the window, next to a certain green-faced Doctor. 
The flight was going to be a long one. 
Eventually, Derek felt terrible enough for Spencer that he stopped by you and Oliver on his way to get some coffee. 
"So, Oliver, how long have you known our dear Y/N here." 
Oliver smiled over at you with a glint in his eye that most of the profilers on the plane noticed. Except for you. 
"Oh, well. We go way back." 
You nodded enthusiastically, just happy to have the company of an old friend. "We were neighbors growing up--you could say he's my childhood best friend." 
"That turned into one of your now best friends..."
You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Don’t push it asshat.”
Derek smiled slightly, realizing this was going to be an interesting case “Well, it’s nice to meet you Oliver.”
He left the two of you alone, taking your abandoned seat next to Spencer, a slight smirk washing over his face as he did. 
“Aren’t you the picture of joy this morning?” 
“Not in the mood, Derek,” Spencer mumbled, staring intently out the window, trying not to let his jealousy get the better. It’s not like it mattered since he was surrounded by profilers who could read him like a book. 
“What do you think of Oliver?” 
Spencer’s jaw tightened, and Derek chuckled. “Good luck, kid.” 
And with that, Derek left Spencer alone, knowing he had his plate filled with more than enough shit for however long this case would be. 
And it didn’t help anything that you were completely oblivious to both men: both of them filled to the brim with envy of the other, having what they each thought the other had—your attention. 
____________________________________________________________
Four years ago, Hotch had made you and Spencer share a bedroom, causing a chain of events to lead to the fact that you still share one now. 
Three years of dating had made you feel very comfortable in your relationship; You loved Spencer Reid. This was not some passing affliction, it was simply a fact of the universe. You would move hell and earth if he asked you to. 
But not right now. Right now? You kind of wanted to punch him. He was ignoring you, or at least that’s what it felt like. The car ride was completely silent. You could tell something was upsetting him, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure why he was so distant. 
“Spence?” 
“Hm?”
“Wanna tell me what’s wrong.” 
He shrugged, effectively trying to murder the conversation before it even had the chance to live. 
You frowned slightly, shifting in your seat slightly, and looking over at him. 
“What’s going on?” 
You heard him mumble something under his breath, unsure of what he was saying, but it just made you even more upset. 
“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”
“I said. I’m fine.” Spencer huffed. 
“Well, clearly you aren’t.”
“Believe whatever you want to fucking believe then.”
And that’s where the conversation ended, leaving you effectively lost. Especially since he wouldn’t hold your hand in the car ride back and then didn’t wait for you as he walked straight into the police station. 
This was going to be a long case. 
___________________________________________________________
And you were right. 
Spencer ignored you at every chance he could. Even in the hotel room, he’d go to bed without you, no holding one another, no late-night talks, nothing. He would just get ready for bed in silence and then turn away from you. 
And tonight, you couldn’t deal with it anymore. He had been ignoring you for over a week and now that it looked like the case was going to take longer, you couldn’t stand it. Instead of getting into bed, you grabbed your phone and wallet and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door behind you. 
You went down to the hotel bar and ordered yourself a tequila shot, downing it quickly before getting your regular drink. 
Oliver slid into the seat next to you, hand on your arm. 
“I haven’t seen you do tequila that fast since freshman year of college.” 
You gave him a dry laugh and took another sip of your drink. “Desperate times.” 
“Want to talk about it?” 
“Not really. I’m just. I’m aggravated.” 
“Come on, babe, it’s me.” Oliver rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “You can always talk to me—so tell me what’s been going on. Boy troubles?”
You sighed. “It’s just…I don’t know what’s going on with Spencer. He’s barely said like three sentences to me since the case began, and clearly, he’s upset with me, but I have no fucking idea why since he’s being a stubborn ass and won’t talk to me. How the fuck am I supposed to fix something if he won’t even tell me what’s wrong.” 
Oliver rubbed his thumb across your arm. It felt intimate because it was, but this was Oliver, who only had the best intentions for you, who you had known since you were a little kid.
“He sounds like a douche babe.” 
You leaned away slightly, face becoming unrecognizable for a moment. “Okay, well, that’s not what I said. He’s clearly just upset abou—” 
“You kinda did. He’s acting like you don’t exist, and clearly, he doesn’t care about how all of this is affecting you.” 
You went to rebuttal his claims because Spencer would never be that callous; he’d never treat you like that. But he kind of was. “It’s only because something is wrong and…”
“So he treats you like this whenever he can’t communicate with you.”
“Well not…he doesn’t…” You were starting to doubt yourself, unable to keep up with the accusations. 
“He doesn’t what. Because it sounds like you’re saying he treats you like shit when he gets upset with you…”
“What are you trying to insinuate? That he hits me? Oliv–”
“I’m just saying that behavior–”
What? Oliver, no. Stop twisting my words.” 
“I’m not twisting your words; I’m just stating what I’m seeing.” 
“What you’re seeing? You’ve been here for a week. You don’t know the past three years.”
“It’s been a week and he’s still treating you like this. And honestly, whenever I come around, he…” Oliver moved his hand to your thigh, causing you to frown deeply. 
“Oliver. Step off.” 
He shook his head. “You’re upset. And I want to help.” 
You shoved his hand off your thigh and stood up. You left cash on the bar, standing up and moving away from Oliver. 
Oliver watched as you walked away, frowning once you couldn’t see him anymore. 
____________________________________________________________
The next morning, Spencer was woken up, and you were curled into his chest, sleeping soundly. He couldn’t move. He ghosted his lips over your forehead, causing you to stir slightly, clinging to him more. 
“Morning.” He whispered to you. 
You hummed and gripped a bit tighter to him. “Don’t go.”
Your voice broke Spencer’s heart a little bit. It’s not that he didn’t feel bad about the way he was treating you, it’s just that Oliver kept provoking him, making him turn greener every single time he saw Oliver talking to you. 
“I wasn’t planning on it, sweetheart.” 
“Oh so now we’re back to nicknames.” You grumbled into his chest. “I’m still mad at you.” 
He signed and brushed your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry Y/N. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” 
“You can make it up to me when we get home.” 
“Deal.” He kissed your head again, just as your cell phone began to ring. 
_________________________________________________________
After two grueling weeks on this godforsaken case, everyone was ready to get home. 
The rest of the case caused serious tension for the group because the mythology was the only thing tying these murders together, and your geoprofile was all over the place, meaning these two killers were too good at what they were doing. 
Once you had been shot at, and nearly grazed by a bullet, you would have expected Spencer to continue to speak to you, but all he did was stare at you from afar. It was infuriating. 
You couldn’t get a read on him. For the rest of the week, he had been speaking to you, kissing you, holding your hand; then after checking on you while you were getting checked out, he stopped speaking to you. 
The entire team watched you and Spencer shift back into the dynamic duo you were, functioning better than before. They watched as Oliver got more frustrated as you continued to ignore him unless it was a necessary part of the investigation. Maybe you had figured it out–they hoped you had.
Instead of trying to deal with even more bullshit, you opted to sit alone at the back of the plane, headphones on. It was one of those many unspoken rules about the plane that everyone knew not to disturb you while your headphones were on unless they wanted to get bitch slapped. 
Well, everyone except for Oliver. 
You were deep in thought, trying to mull over why Spencer wasn’t talking to you–both times– going over every scenario you possibly could and figuring out what changed during that first day. 
Oliver got up, ready to go and talk to you, his intentions pretty clear from the look on his face, but Derek grabbed his arm, effectively yanking him back down into his seat. 
“What the fuck man?” 
“Don’t bug Y/N while they have headphones on.” If Spencer wasn’t going to stand up for you, then Derek absolutely was. Oliver might have been your best friend, but Derek was your family. 
“It’s just music…”
“Yeah,” Hotch spoke up, not looking away from the report in his hands. “And no one wants to clean up your blood when you get murdered for trying to interrupt that music.” 
“Look. As Y/n’s best friend, I’m outside of most of their rules–”
“I don't think so.” Derek stood up, fully ready to restrain this man. 
“What the fuck is going on.” You had stood up, and turned around, headphones out of your ears, and my god did you look fucking pissed off. “I don’t know why is everyone arguing so loudly, but if we could keep the volume at a fucking minimum that would be fan-fucking-tastic.”
The team stared back at you, except for Hotch who just had a slightly amused look on his face as he filled out paperwork. You glared at Oliver and Derek, who were standing opposite of you. “Can I help you two or…”
Derek shook his head. “Go back to your music. We’re sorry.”  
“Thank you.” You grumbled to the group, sliding your headphones back over your ears, attaching a ‘sorry’ to the group as you did so. You moved further back on the plane, sitting on the couch, glaring at anyone who looked at you. 
This has been a stressful two weeks for you. Oliver was acting all weird all of a sudden, –causing you to reevaluate your entire relationship with him, considering he was trying to make Spencer sound like a villain. And then Spencer, acting like a villain and ignoring you all week, then acting like nothing happened, and then ignoring you again for another twenty-four hours. You couldn’t take it anymore. And, on top of all of this, you had lost two more victims to the unsub, because one of the killers worked in the station, using his knowledge to avoid the BAU. 
You were overwhelmed and frustrated, and you just wanted some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask for? 
“I should go apologize–” Oliver didn’t move to sit back down.
Spencer stood up and shoved past Oliver, moving to sit on the couch with you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him. 
“Can I help you?” 
Spencer shrugged and opened his book, knowing you’d rather have whatever conversation he was willing to have now, in private. He opted to just read and be in your company. It was easily recognizable as the beginning of an apology, and you would take it. You maneuvered so your back was up against his arm, initiating the amount of touch you were willing to have, but also not crossing a line. 
The plane ride was silent the rest of the way. 
______________________________________________________________________________
“I’m sorry for this w–the past two weeks really. I-I’ve been really in my own head and–”
You let out a hefty sigh, tossing your keys on the counter and your bag down next to the door. Spencer followed suit, closing the door behind the two of you as you went into the kitchen to put on the kettle to make some tea. 
“Are you going to tell me what was going on? What the fuck happened?”
He sighed back at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you into a hug. 
And while you muttered your displeasure, you didn’t move away from him at all, opting to grouchily mumble in his ear, while Spencer ran his thumb up and down your back, listening to you mumble. 
“I–god Spence. You just dropped me like all week, and then suddenly—”
“I-I know. I was awful. I’m so so sorry.”  
“That’s not an explanation.” You mumbled into his chest.
“I….” Spencer swallowed whatever sort of pride he thought he would be saving and opted to tell you. “I…It was Oliver, and-and the way you were treating him, an-and you sat next to him on the plane and he was touching you and he was constantly holding you and stealing your attention away and—”
You pulled away slightly to get a look at your boyfriend. “Spencer Reid, were you jealous?” 
He cursed under his breath and rolled his eyes. 
You placed a soft kiss on his neck, causing him to hum. “You have nothing to be worried about Spence. You are it for me. No one can change that, especially not Oliver.”
Spencer looked down and smiled again. You smiled back at him, pulling him to you for a kiss. 
It was recentering your universe. Everything was the way it should be–your lips on Spencer's, his hands around his waist, and a glowing sunset peering through your windows. 
The kettle whistled loudly, causing the two of you to jump apart, startled at the sound. 
“That was a good start, Spence. Once I finish my tea, you can show me how else you can keep making it up to me.” You smirked slightly, turning around to take the kettle off of the stove and grab the tea and mugs. 
Spencer has never been so excited to drink a cup of tea, and honestly, neither had you. 
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pinkestofpanthers · 3 months ago
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some logan thoughts
a/n: i absolutely love desperate housewives, so this was loosely based on susan & mike, my favorite couple!
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you wanted him. he had only moved into the apartment building two days ago and you barely interacted with him, but you would be a liar if you said he hadn't made you feel some type of way. you didn't get the chance to introduce yourself; you could only dumbly smile and wave at him in the lobby as you retrieved your mail. however, you thanked whatever entity above that your nosy neighbor, ethel, was able to introduce herself with a basket of baked goods and housewarming flowers.
from what she relayed to you, he only moved a couple hours from where he previously resided in canada. he was a plumber who had been out of work for a while, but of course still carried his toolbox everywhere he went, leaving it in the bed of his truck just in case. ethel noticed how there was no ring on his finger, and that his apartment, though still stuffed with boxes, was only set up for one person to live there. you didn't miss the nudge she gave you as she told you this.
you knew he only lived four doors down from ethel, who lived just across the hall from you. it would seem random to show up, it's not like he moved in directly next to you. how could you have possibly approached him? you continued to think your options through, until you turned to the newspaper that had just been delivered this morning. he was a plumber after all, right?
frantically, you began stuffing pages upon pages down your garbage disposal. how exactly could you explain this happening? blame it on the pet cat you never had? the niece your brother never introduced you to, let alone didn't even have? you were sure an excuse would come to your head once the stranger found his way into your apartment.
that was, until, he was actually in your apartment.
"hello?" he called out to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. you smiled back at him and he asked again,
"so, how did you get this morning's news shoved down your disposal?"
you stammered, eyes darting around for some excuse you could pull out of thin air. after thinking it over for a solid five seconds, you decided to blurt out about the little "accident" your niece had when she visited earlier. you didn't want to embarrass her, so you waited to get help until after she left.
based on his reaction, you couldn't tell if he was completely sold on your lie or not. you hoped he took it for what it was and could spend an extra thirty minutes on the floor of your kitchen.
during that sacred time he spent on your floor, you had made some sort of small talk with the handsome man. finding out where he was from, why he moved, and that he was single (something he revealed after you asked if he moved here by himself). this had kept on until the time he asked for a hand off the floor, as he finished the little project you set up for him hours before. you thanked him and asked how much you owed, heading to grab your purse.
"it's no big deal, don't think you have to pay me," he responded to your ask, but you insisted. i mean, the man just cleaned out a whole book's worth of papers for you.
"there has to be something i can give you! i'll treat you takeout?" you were starting to feel bad. it wasn't fair that the man who made his living off doing jobs like this, who had been out of work for a while, had just finished fixing your garbage disposal, and was telling you to not pay him.
"how about that fancy little italian place up the block? tomorrow night. my treat, though," he said after thinking your offer over and you just scoffed.
"well, that defeats the purpose of me paying you back, don't you think?" you questioned, which got a chuckle out of him. he assured you it would be his pleasure to take you out, and that just going out with him would be enough payment. you thought it over and went back and forth with him until you ultimately agreed.
as you showed him out of your apartment, him with his tool kit in hand, he decided to say one more thing, something that would haunt you for the rest of the night until you saw him tomorrow evening,
"and next time," he smirked as he turned back to you, "just be a little more like nosy neighbor ethel and come introduce yourself. i'm sure your garbage disposal will be happy you did."
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theangelcatalogue · 7 months ago
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WHAT'S WRONG? || YANDERE FRANCIS X READER! || ★!
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★ - Romantic or Platonic(?)!
★ - Gender Neutral reader!
★ - One shot!
★ - Before we start: Idk why i did this, but i saw fics of him, and people going crazy over him, so why not?? I don't even write for that's not my neighbour, but i love the game! So let' go! Also sorry if is confusing! My mind is kinda tired and idk why i wrote this at 1AM(Is i wrote this at 1AM, remade some parts and posted it at 2AM) (Pls check Tw before reading it! <3)
★ - TW: YANDERE, DOPPELGANGER, BLOOD, BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR AND MADE BY A MINOR!!! PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING!!!
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   ˚๑ ✦ Y/N!!! ✦ ๑°
・・・ ★ ・・・
︶ ꒷ ︶ ꒷ ꒦
Just a normal day in work!
This work is not that bad, i mean, i have to focus in every single neighbor, check some papers and be careful because some of than can be actually doppelgangers that will kill me and the persons that live here? Yeah-
But is guess i am getting used to it! And some neighbors are really nice! And others are just weird and rude! But what i can do? People are like that!
It's kinda weird that no one is showing up now, but i can have some time to rest now! Just me, a good coffee and my jornal/book(it can be a jornal or a book!)
Now i am just reading, waiting for anyone, i mean the today's list is short today! Lucky me i guess? I get kinda focused in the reading, the content is kinda depressing and boring, but is what i have for now
" Hello Y/n. "
I heard someone saying, Oh! I can't forget this voice!
" Francis! Tired as always? Well, let's see if you are in todays list! "
I said not taking the eyes of my jornal/book, i am lucky that Francis is the one who showed up! He is kinda nice! Just a tired guy but hey! He is a hardworker!
" Sounds good for me. Here is my entry request and ID "
I could notice him giving the papers, now i notice his hand is kinda dirty and his voice is kinda off, more tired than usual...
" Oh! Thanks- "
I respond him finally taking my eyes of the book, now i can see Francis better let's say, he is covered in a red liquid with a weird smell
It is what i am thinking? Oh yeah! A doppelganger! But i never thought a doppelganger would commit a error like that, why blood...? Some are a missing eye, others just say peach and others are a long neck and etc, what if is not a doppelganger...?
" What's wrong Y/n? Something wrong about the papers? "
He says noticing that i am kinda nervous, i just pick the papers and the clickboard as usual, first thing to question?
His looks.
" Francis! What happend? You are corvered in...what is that? Can you explain? "
Francis just looks at his outifit and then back at me, the same tired look, but something about the way he looks at me is different, i can't tell what is
" Oh this? It's a new milk! Scarlett Milk! It's a Milk with Red coloring, and Yes, it's food coloring! Not used in clothes... "
" Really Francis? So tell me! How did you got corvered in...Scarlett Milk...? "
He was getting tired of me questioning i guess, okay, i have three options!
1. It's really a milk with food coloring
2. It's a doppelganger
3. Francis is a killer or just got crazy
Please let it be 1-
" Accident at work. Just that, can i go in? "
He asks me looking at me deep at the eyes, i feel like he is judging all my sins, i break the eye contact and look at the Red button and then at the phone
Should i call the police or my boss?
" Look Y/N, i am really tired, just let me in, so i can go take a shower and rest. Maybe after you are done, you can go to my room, drink some coffee together! I heard is your favorite drink, what about a coffee with milk uh? "
He says to me, i think he is getting impatient
OH REALLT Y/N L/N!? DON'T TELL ME
" I- "
" Come on darling. "
He gets closer to the window, supporting his one of his arms in the glass
" Let. Me. In "
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✦ - NOTES!!!
✮ " Sky wtf was that? " I DON'T KNOW LOL ✮
✮ The fandom go crazy about him gosh ✮
✮ Okay should i write for TNMN??? ✮
✮ Anyways have a good day my loves! <33 ✮
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justawritterwithideas · 2 years ago
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Boy Wonder and the Rockstar | s.r
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✩ previous part | next part ✩
summary: The BAU rushes to Washington after discovering that the lead singer of a famous band may be in danger, causing Spencer to come face to face with his past after 15 years.
general warnings: this series contains topics such as mentions of death, alcohol, drugs, strong vocabulary, as well as talk of heartbreak, disappointment and arguments. It also contains content regarding CM season 13, so it clearly contains spoilers.
chapter warnings: this chapter contains mentions of murder, vomiting, mistreatment, as well as the use of strong vocabulary. this is a spencer reid x famous!reader story.
words: 4,269 words.
a/n: hello! here i come with the second chapter of "boy wonder and the rockstar", i had fun writing this chapter as i also suffered from lack of creativity ( T T ), but finally inspiration touched me. I hope you like it. Remember to read the chapter cautions and have a good read.! English is not first language, so I may have mistakes, if so, I'm sorry. :(
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𝟎.𝟐: 𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫.
For many people, memories that are related to times in their lives relate to certain aspects of the five senses, whether it's certain sounds or textures, music that brings them back to that exact memory, or simply tastes of foods that remind them of what their loved ones used to make.
For Spencer, it was smells.
Despite possessing a memory that makes him remember even the smallest detail of what happened the day before, his olfactory memory was much more developed than other senses.
During his childhood, or what he considers childhood, his memories smelled of the pages of old books that his mother read to him and her perfume, impregnated in the bed sheets when they sat together to read some classic of literature. When he was in his youth, sometimes the smells reminded him of the charcoal in his pencil, writing mathematical exercises on white sheets, or sometimes the smell of chlorine, because of the thousand times bullies forced him to go to the bathroom.
But during his college days, he always thought that the smell that would be his favorite was the soft smell of the library, of wood and humidity; but no, those memories had the smell of freshly brewed coffee, cherries and menthol cigarettes.
His good memories always brought smiles to his face in the middle of nowhere, as if he was remembering one of those old bad jokes they used to tell him and he couldn't find the humor in them, or maybe the less thought out answers to such logical questions. His good memories caused his stomach to clench tightly and his chest to feel heavy, as if a stone was replacing his heart.
Spencer knew why. Why his body felt that way.
But he didn't want to admit why.
Because if he admitted it, he knew the only reason he did would make him regret it, he would have to give reason to his sentimental side than the rational side.
And he hated not being right.
"Spence."
J.J.'s voice brought the boy back to his desk, taking his eyes off the nearly iced coffee with a pound of sugar to keep him awake.
He'd been daydreaming about Y/N's laughter in his ear for nights now, just like when they had sleepovers at her apartment. He couldn't get her out of his head, let alone get the smell out of her hair when she was the small spoon.
"What, what's going on?" the opposite replied, looking at the blonde. She seemed to be trying to decipher what was going on in her friend's head.
"I'm asking you, is something wrong, are you sleeping well?"
"Yes." Bullshit.
"Are you sure? Your eyes say otherwise." The black circles under his eyes gave him away.
"I've been sleepless for a few days, but it's because my neighbors won't let me sleep." Another bullshit.
"You should talk to them, you know." The boy nodded, giving the blonde an elongated smile and returning to his paperwork.
"Really all right?"
"Yeah, J.J. It's fine."
"'S okay, you know what you can tell me."
"Yes J.J., thank you."
The answer didn't leave the blonde satisfied, but she made an extraordinary effort to ignore his attitude and return to the desk with Luke and Matt, who had been staring at him for a couple of minutes.
"He's rambling again." Commented J.J as she returned, who kept her eyes on her best friend and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.
It was usual at this time of year, when the leaves were beginning to turn their last summer colors, that Spencer would go blank staring at a spot in the room more than once.
No one quite understood why that happened to him, the only one who knew was Gideon. But he never shared any of Spencer's secrets, not even if a gun was held to his chest.
"Guess whateee, my dear friends!" The conversation was interrupted by a cheerful and enthusiastic Penelope, who commanded everyone's attention with her sonorous voice.
"What's going on, Garcia?" Luke turned to see her, who was coming with an envelope in her hand.
"Your genius did it again, rub the wishing lamp and I got tickets to the best concert of the year - Paradox in Virginia! Can you believe it?"
"You got them!?" J.J. was the first to startle, coming closer to see the tickets for the most anticipated concert of the year.
"That's right, my dear friend! A girls' night out to see Paradox. You, me, Emily and Tara."
"No way, god. I'll talk to Will and rest assured I'll be ready for that night." J.J smiled hugging her friend's arm.
"What's Paradox...?" muttered Luke, causing Matt to turn to look at him. The poor Luke was trying to comprehend what his friends were talking about.
Was he too out of date on pop culture or were they speaking in some kind of secret code?
"Oh Luke, why did you ask that?" Matt shook his head, earning a glare from the blonde couple.
"What did you say, newbie, don't you know what Paradox is? Oh god, no way. I'll have to bring you up to date with a course on what today's music is right now, follow me." Penelope motioned to the boy, who turned to see Matt who was lifting his shoulders laughing.
"No Penelope, you're not going anywhere. We have a case, and it's urgent. There's no time, meeting room now."
The rest of the people turned to look at each other, abiding by their boss's orders as they saw her so anxious and serious about a case.
That didn't look good at all.
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The adrenaline and euphoria of last night's show, plus the last two dates, had been enough of a stimulant for Y/N to fall asleep in bed once they arrived at the hotel. Her whole body was exhausted, and at that moment all she wanted was some chamomile tea and a thousand hours of sleep.
She loved her job, of course she did! But she was mentally and physically exhausted from giving almost 15 concerts without a break, from one state to another, with more cups of coffee and energizers in her body than times where her eyes closed to sleep.
And the only time she found peace and quiet was when her body was being moved from one location to another, so, at that moment, her body was resting in the comfortable seat of the SUV after being driven to an interview and returned to the hotel to rest.
She felt her limbs meld with the seat, feeling like she was in heaven itself where her muscles all over her body were relaxing after days.
Her peace didn't last long when she heard a soft call.
"Psss, Y/N."
The, now, blonde heard the call from Felix, also known as the band's drummer and her best friend.
"What? You ruin my beauty nap."
"What did one wall say to the other?"
Y/N could hang him right then and there.
More the tiredness in her body made her think, trying to devise the best answer to get him to leave her alone.
"What?"
"I'll meet you at the corner."
"I'm having the biggest self-control to not kill you because you just interrupted the only moment of peace I've had these past three months, asshole."
"You haven't been able to sleep?"
Y/N denied with her eyes closed, desperate to get back to her attempt at sleep.
"Not a single moment, I woke up three times last night and that was the best attempt at sleep I've ever had."
"Your pills aren't working?"
"They're placebos, they won't make my body calm down just like that and go back to my eight hour sleep cycle that I'd had for the last two years without touring." The young woman opened one eye, looking at her friend. "I just have to get used to it, I have to get back to the cycle of excitement I used to have when it was tour after tour."
"Maybe if we talk about that thing that bothers you-"
"No way."
Y/N knew what he meant, knew it was talking about a certain doctor who gave her goosebumps every time she thought about him and took her back to her college days.
Why was she still thinking about him? It had been almost 15 years since they last spoke.
Y/N looked at the date on her phone.
No, she was wrong.
It had been 15 years since they last spoke.
Today was 15 years since she had received the last letter from Spencer with her name written on it.
The last time she felt the smell of his perfume on the sheets and his ugly doctor's handwriting on a sheet of paper.
The last time she saw written "wherever you are, whatever you do or whoever you are with, you are always on my mind and in my heart, Y/N."
Last time she saw written "Love from Quantico, dr. Spencer Reid. I'm also known as your #1 fan, but only you know that."
Was that the reason she hadn't slept well that night? Yes.
Was that the reason she hadn't slept well for that last week? Yes.
Was that the reason why, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him smile? Yes.
Was she going to admit it? No.
Never.
"Y/N..."
"I don't want to talk about it, Felix. Don't insist."
"But, Y/N-"
"Let it go, Felix. Really, don't insist." Tyler's voice made Felix turn to look at him angrily.
Tyler and Shawn, the guitarist and bassist respectively, shook their heads and made an "X" symbol with their fingers, muttering at the same time "don't do it, don't be stupid."
"Enough kids, let it go. In two days we have a very important concert to give in Seattle, so I don't want any fights."
"You heard him, Felix." Y/N smiled opening her eyes, looking in the direction of Gerald, her manager.
Thank you, Y/N murmured in the man's direction.
Gerald just raised his shoulders, noticing how the van parked.
"Okay, down."
Tyler and Shawn were the first to get out, followed by Y/N and then Felix.
Felix hated to come off as meddling in Y/N's life, so whenever he meddled too much in the girl's life, he simply knew that seeking forgiveness from her was his best option.
"Sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to insist."
"It's okay, Felix. I know you meant no harm, but I don't want to talk about it."
"And when will you?"
"I don't know, I guess when I'm ready."
"It's been 15 years, Y/N."
"I know, but I'm still not read-"
"Miss Autumn?"
Y/N turned to see the receptionist, who was holding a package.
"A package has arrived for you."
"Thank you, do you know who brought it?"
"No miss, I'm sorry."
"No worries, thanks again."
Y/N received it, walking to the elevator along with Felix after seeing how the package had a sticker on it that said "express delivery."
"What did you order, compulsive shopper?" Gerald turned to look at her, causing Y/N to deny in confusion.
"Nothing that I know of, I promise."
"Maybe it's a collaboration, Tiffany's already started putting the ads with your face all over it." Shawn smiled, elbowing the arm of the store's new ambassador.
"A gift for you to occupy at the next gig." Gerald replied, nodding softly as he looked down at his phone.
The box was small and covered in the typical plastic they place around it. Compact enough to drop a set of jewelry on behalf of the brand, but it seemed odd that it came directly and without warning.
The group made their way to the small meeting room where they had set up everything they needed, ready to hear the itinerary Gerald had prepared for them about their upcoming events.
Y/N's fingers went to open the package once it was placed on the table, watching as  the "Tiffany & Co." logo on its little sky blue box.
"Okay guys, tomorrow you have rehearsal from noon until three in the afternoon, then you'll have an interview on a radio station near the sta-"
A beautiful gold ring with a navy blue gem in the middle was the first thing that caught the young woman's eye, perfect for the occasion. But it was heavier than usual.
"Then you can go eat and rest, we'll still have dress rehearsal, so you can get ready-"
A shout coming from Y/N deafened the group of people, causing them all to look in her direction.
Her skin was as white as paper, her eyes fixed on the box she had just opened and her face with an expression of pure terror from an experimental horror movie.
All eyes went in the direction of the box, which Y/N felt like everything she had eaten that morning was going to spew out of her mouth right then and there.
"Shit."
The beautiful ring encircled something.
A human finger.
A human finger that stained the bottom of the box.
A human finger that was accompanied by a note.
"I hope you enjoy my gift, my sweet star. I made it just for you, good luck at the concert."
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"This morning at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel in Washington, the lead singer of the band Paradox received a package. Inside was a human finger with a ring on it." Emily was passing around the photographs that had been sent by the Washington police, it showed just what she had just described above. "According to the receptionist it was dropped off by someone from a package store. The police questioned him and he said it had arrived with yesterday's load of packages."
"From where?" Luke asked.
"They don't know, they collect packages from all over the country so they don't know where it came from. They're looking for the tracking code of the branch they sent it from."
"How grotesque, who would send such a thing to an artist like her?" Tara looked at Emily, who sighed.
"But what do we have to do with this case?" Rossi looked at his tablet, zooming in on the picture of the ring.
"The DNA results came back to find out whose finger it is." A photograph of a stranger appeared on the TV screen. "He is Bruno Colombo, an Italian artist and the owner of that finger. We just got word that his lifeless body was found in his art studio."
"He's Autumn's ex-fiancé." Penelope commented, surprised at all that was going on. "In 2016, he and Autumn got engaged after dating for two years, but after a few months it was discovered that the engagement ended after Autumn discovered him and an art gallery owner having sex in his studio. According to him he did it because he wanted to make an exhibition that would portray Autumn's true feelings, and this way he could see her feeling of anger and sadness. There are still people who idolize him for that."
"What a jerk." Matt muttered.
"And how come no one noticed his absence?"
" According to this, he was isolating himself when he was setting up exhibits so it wasn't out of the ordinary for him to suddenly disappear."
Spencer felt his heart pounding, why would he get like this over a clear case of a stalker obsessing over a music star?
It's not like he even knew her.
"Apparently, this relates to a series of related cases over ten years that the only common element is this band, Paradox. No one has ever linked them before as none of the modes of operation are the same, the only factor that unites them is the viciousness with which they are carried out and the band, of course." Emily sighed, showing the various faces and deaths that surrounded them.
"Race or religion has nothing to do with it, it seems neither does gender." Spencer commented, quickly reading each of the bodies found. "But it looks like they all had an encounter with the band or one of the members. From 2008 when the first body was found until now."
"The director asked us to take on this case, the level of this band is insane and it seems to be going against the vocalist, Autumn. They are currently on a world tour after two years of no activity, plus not much is known about her in general." Emily turned to look at Penelope. "Garcia, you're joining us on this trip. You serve us better back in Washington than you do here at Quantico. Reid and Lewis will go meet the M.E., the rest of us will go to the station and then we'll all go to the Queen Elizabeth Hotel, we'll meet the band and their manager." The whole group was surprised, especially Penelope who held a surprised expression. "Wheels up in 30."
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Y/N always thought that the whole thing about having human parts shipped to you in a box was part of fiction. At best, news fiction.
But what she had just experienced was surreal.
Her body was shaking with a cup of tea in her hands, feeling her hands stinging around the cup.
"Who the fuck would send something like that to Y/N? No one we know is capable of doing anything to her, they would fuck up their careers if they were exposed like that." Tyler turned, annoyed, in the direction of Y/N. "Who did this to you, are you hiding something from us?"
"No, Tyler. I'm not hiding anything, why would I hide the fact that someone sent me a fucking human part on my name to a hotel in the middle of our comeback tour? You're blaming me for something, huh? Tell me to my fucking face, Tyler."
Y/N stood up in exasperation, letting the hot water spill onto the floor.
"I don't know, you tell me, Y/N. If you got sent a finger."
"Go straight to hell, Tyler. Right straight up." Commented the girl raising her middle finger.
"Enough! Both of you." Gerald's loud voice interrupted them, separating the band's strong personalities. "Right now we can't fight. They just sent a fucking human finger to Y/N, we can't get mad about that, we should be worried."
"Finally someone with sense." Y/N sat back down, setting the cup aside.
"What are they seeing so much of us, why aren't they doing anything? They should be looking for the person responsible." Felix got up walking towards the officers, being stopped by Shawn.
"Hey, they're doing the best they can. If we go in there and raise our voices, we're going to hinder the investigation, don't be a dickhead."
"Damn it, this can't be happening." Y/N stood up, starting to walk over to her purse to pull out a cigarette and place it between her teeth.
"You can't smoke in here, Y/N." Gerald's warning went in one ear to the girl and out the other, flicking her lighter. "Y/N."
"What, look at the shit we're in, I just got sent a fucking human finger from who-knows-who and you're asking me to keep my cool!? I can't! There's a crazy person out there sending me that shit with 'nice words'." The girl threw the lighter at who-knows-where, finding herself on the verge of an anxiety attack. "Don't fuck around and leave me alone to have a smoke, Gerald."
The group fell back into the same silence that surrounded them four hours ago, letting the cigarette smoke flood their nostrils.
They were desperate, they needed to get to the root of this.
Y/N knew it. Right now she was the eye of the hurricane, who that box and message were addressed to; the same person who had sent her that, had taken it upon himself to send her flowers and letters with the same nickname, "my sweet star."
At first she thought it was nice, of course it's nice when you get your favorite flowers along with letters of good cheer and best wishes, but it's not nice when you get a gift like today's.
But her attitude would get her nowhere, she was annoyed and exasperated, but they didn't deserve that kind of treatment.
"I'm sorry, but this is too much for me, I can't handle this alone and my attitude isn't helping anything. " Y/N commented, taking her eyes off her cigarette and looking at the people closest to her. "We should be in this together."
"I'm sorry, kid. I got upset that I couldn't help you, that you didn't know who sent you that." Tyler sighed, giving the girl a rueful smile.
"Don't worry about it, Ty. I'm really sorry, everyone."
The girl took another puff on her cigarette, letting the minty flavor cool her lungs.
"The FBI is here."
The announcement made everyone look at each other, taking their last breaths and letting Y/N finish what she was doing, the only thing keeping her sane at that moment.
"I'll see you downstairs, okay?" Felix left a kiss on the young woman's forehead, taking his leave to get on the elevator.
Y/N found herself alone in the room, again feeling disgust rise in her throat. She couldn't get the image of that package out of her mind, how was someone capable of writing those sweet words and sending something as grotesque as that.
The girl's hands gently stroked her cheeks, waking up and she shook her head. She would make one last stop to the bathroom before heading downstairs, so she could go more consciously for who-knows-what things would make her talk.
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The BAU met up with a group of people who, thanks to the way Penelope was getting excited, could be sure it was Paradox.
All along the way, Spencer had listened to Garcia's theories and who it could have been. He loved listening to her talk, but his head was somewhere else, somewhere else but there.
Something inside him sensed something, something he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was his thoughts of the past that had been running through him since morning.
"Agent Prentiss, I'm Gerald Murphy, the manager of Paradox." The man shook hands with the woman, who was looking over his shoulder at three people. "These are the members of the band: Tyler, Shawn and Felix."
The three let out a wave into the air, giving them a smile of sorts.
Spencer knew they weren't entirely happy they were there, he read it in their body language.
"I understand there are four of you in the band, here I see three." Emily looked directly into Gerald's eyes.
"Yeah, Autumn, the vocalist, is upstairs finishing something. But she's coming down now, right?" Felix nodded, watching the FBI agents.
Felix crossed glances with Spencer, feeling that familiar air from somewhere.
Spencer felt that familiar air too, but maybe he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.
"Please, let's go somewhere more private. That way we can talk more quietly."
Gerald motioned to the three men, who plunged inside the room, followed by everyone else.
The BAU settled down in front of the four people seated on the couches.
"If you like, we can wait for Miss Autumn." Emily glanced at the group, all of whom nodded.
"It's for the best, she's the most affected." Felix looked in the direction of Tyler and Shawn, who simply nodded in unison.
"You've never received anything like this before?" Luke directed his question at the group of people, causing Tyler to let out a sarcastic laugh.
"You think that's a normal thing to receive, a human finger? Please, be realistic."
"Tyler, shut up." Shawn motioned, slapping the young man's knee.
"That's a stupid question of his, since when is getting shit like that going to be normal?"
"Tyler!" Shawn gave him a stern look, turning his gaze back to Luke. "I'm sorry, we're touchy about this that just happened."
"My question was out of line, it's my fault." Luke admitted, turning to look at the rest.
"When is Autumn getting here?" Felix's question seemed to work magic, smelling her best friend's signature scent.
A strong smell of cherries and menthol tobacco made Spencer shake his head.
It wasn't time to remember Y/N, it wasn't time to focus on something like that.
It felt like his head was playing a joke on him, as if she was suddenly here. But the smell didn't go away, in fact, it intensified to the point that Spencer could feel his head hurting.
"Sorry I'm late."
Spencer felt his entire body freeze, as if he were turning into an ice cube.
The voice he thought he would never hear again.
The voice that escaped so much in his dreams.
He could hear it there, like an echo in his head.
His head turned, catching the figure that had just entered with some haste.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Autu-"
"Y/N."
The girl looked up, meeting Spencer's hazel eyes.
No way, Y/N thought.
Her heart stopped, as did the time around her.
Standing in front of her was a much older and mature Spencer Reid, but with that same lotion that made her dizzy.
The woman's mouth opened slightly, feeling the air in her lungs catch and no words came out of her mouth.
Her lip quivered, her pulse altered.
"Spencer."
Oh fate, how cruel did you have to be?
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@alexa-33 | @ahhhhyesk | @imthefuckingleader | @narmothewraith | @kneelforloki | @niyahwhoreworld | @lexie0037 | @deadunicorn159 | @corpsebridenightamare | @preciousbabypeter | @sakuramadae | @zzz000eee | @runefirestarter | @sebastiansstanswhore | @whateverrrrrrrrs | @xsarcasticwriterx | @chris-seb-marvel | @bellaramseygfsblog | @lillysbigwilly | @dezibou | @astrophileous | @ily2lia | @sophiario | @valenftcrush | @oxace-of-heartsxo | @spencerrxids | @w31rdg1rl | @ineedsomezzz | @yeehawbitchs | @coolstories66 | @baku-hoes-blog
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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
a lot of love, alme. ❀
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penelopepine · 7 months ago
Text
Don't be a stranger! Pt. 4
Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
Johnny has silently been sitting across from him for 20 mins now; his eyes were narrowed with a wide smirk on his face. It was clear that he had something on his mind that he wanted to bring up, but Simon is refusing to be the one to bring it up first. 
“So…Lt.” Johnny leaned forward, “Who did you meet?” 
Simon paused with what he was writing and looked up to meet Johnny’s eyes. The two of them were close, but he doubts that the other can read him so well to know that he met someone while away. “Why do you think I met someone?” 
"It's written all over your face, and I'm reading you like a book." 
"My covered face?" 
"It's written on your mask then, either way I can tell." 
"Hmm." 
Simon decides to do what he does best and ignores the conversation; if he doesn't react Johnny would eventually get bored of poking and leave him alone. This must be the most interesting happening in the sergeant's life though because he doesn't seem ready to let go.
"Is this mystery person a new friend or partner?" Johnny continued to stare at Simon as if he was actually trying to read him.
"Do you have anything you need to be doing right now or do I need to find you something?"
Right away he watches as Johnny jumps out of his seat and walks towards the door with his hands up. That grin hasn't dimmed even the tiniest bit though as he turns to Simon once more, "Oh by the way the reason I came to find you was that the mail room says they have a care package for you." With that Johnny is quickly out the door. 
Simon glared at the spot the other once stood. That explains what had Johnny so bothersome he supposes then. He'll also need to talk to the mail room about not announcing what he's getting to nosy sergeants. 
With a huff he stands from his seat and also makes his way to the office door. Simon isn't going to show it, but he is always very excited whenever he gets another package from you. He's been away for a little over a month now. The two of you have talked over the phone plenty of times, but there's something more intimate about exchanging letters and packages with one another.  
Once reaching the mail room he is quick to gather his things, and make his way to the confines of his private space. He would have made it there without any interruptions, but he just had to run into Price on his way. 
"Ghost." Price smiles and gestures towards the box, "What you got there lad?"
"A box, sir." 
"From anyone special?"
Simon wasn't sure how to answer that because you were special to him, but he really didn't want anyone knowing about you right now. He's not ready to share who you are and what you mean to him yet. It's bad enough that Johnny already has an inkling about who you are; bad things always seem to happen when everybody finds out.  
As if sensing his internal struggle, Price asks, "Is this the same person who gave you that bracelet?" 
Looking down at his wrist the bracelet was out for all to see. Simon swiftly moves his sleeve to cover it once again out of sight; giving Price a hard stare. "It might be." 
Price gives a small chuckle and as he walks past gives him a pat on the back, "Well then, I won't keep you any longer."
Not needing to be told twice Simon rushes to his room. Right away he opens the box from you; right on top is a note reading, “Facetime me, if you can, while you open the rest of the box!!!” 
Looking at the time you should be home already. Good, he’d hate to miss a chance to talk to you. Simon takes a few moments to make sure his space is presentable for you before calling.
You answer on the second ring. Your face appears on screen with a wide smile as you move about the room. “Simon!” 
There it was again the feeling of his heart threatening to burst from his chest. You’re able to stop all other thoughts as soon as you say his name, “Hello, love.”
"How have you been? Did you get my package? I put an extra special item in there for you!" 
"Oh really? Well let's see what's in here then." Simon pulls the box into the camera view, and takes out the first item. It was a large container of chocolate chip cookies. He had asked for more after the first time, and now you always add baked goods whenever you send him anything. 
"Those are to share by the way. I packed extra so your friends could enjoy some too!" 
That was another thing he really admired about you. You were always thinking of others and wanting to help when you could. He had told you all about the team; little stories of them around base or out at the pub. You also asked about them once in a while; wanting to make sure everyone was doing ok. "They're my coworkers." 
"You can't lie to me Simon. I know you care about them more than you would a normal coworker."  The camera view on your end now showed you in the kitchen preparing to cook dinner for yourself. "Take out the next one!"
"Whatever you say love," he reaches back in and in hands now sits a tin of his favorite tea. 
You gasp and lightly clap, "Here it is!" 
Simon had complained during one of the phone calls that he hadn't had a good cup of tea in ages, and whenever good tea does come onto base it's usually gone within the hour. "I don't deserve you, love, thank you. This is going to make my time here much more enjoyable."
"That's what I like to hear! Just let me know when you run out and I'll be sure to send more." Simon would do anything to make sure that the smile you're giving him never leaves your face, "There should only be one more thing in there now!"
Pulling out the last thing was a small envelope. At first he thought it was a letter, but after opening it he found that the envelope actually had several polaroid pictures inside. Carefully he pulled them out and examined them carefully. 
One of them was of a sunrise on the street he had always walked you to work on. Another was one of your hands in the shape of half a heart in front of his flat door. The next one was you; you were smiling at the camera, at him. 
"I got a polaroid camera just a bit ago, and thought you'd like some pictures of home." 
“They're perfect.” These were worth more to him than you would ever know, “What about you, love; did you get your package?” 
You grab the phone and start to walk again, “Yeah, let me show you what I did!”
The camera is soon flipped and there on your living room window sill are all the rocks he has been sending you. 
“What’s the story behind this one?” You hold up the most recent rock he had sent you. It was palm sized and vaguely resembled a mountain peak. 
“That’s the very stone that took down Johnny.” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, “He was running away from Gaz, and before either could get very far Johnny trips and falls straight on his face. It deserves the honor of being in your company for that.”
The two of you continue to talk as you make dinner for yourself. Talking about your day, work, and future plans for about another half hour. He can’t stay with you forever though, and he still has things he needs to do today. 
“I’ll call you later love.” 
The two of you exchange goodbyes and Simon is left with the silence of his room, wishing that he could be with you right now. 
Looking at the time he noted to himself that Price has a briefing planned in just a bit. He placed some aside for himself for later before grabbing the box of cookies from you and started to make his way towards the meeting room. 
Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown
@141tfsan @arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind
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hauntedwitch04 · 7 months ago
Text
Neighbor
Steve Harrington x reader
Words: about 0.8k words
Warnings: smut, possessive!Steve, swearing, kinda voyeurism, not proofreaded
Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, hope you like it, your witch Becky
Requests are open I Ask
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 13: Caught masturbation
-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-..-
Steve Harrington and you have been neighbors since you were born. When you were younger you spent hours and hours playing in the backyard, and when your parents forced you into the house, you kept playing in your rooms, since your windows were in front of each other. You used to spend hours looking out, imagining adventures and exploits of the older heroes, playing at being big, not knowing that after all, you grow up too fast.
You and Steve remained very good friends until high school, when he decided that you were not popular enough to be seen with him and that he needed to find new, "cooler" friends to really be somebody. This of course had made you feel very bad, but fortunately you had met other people, better than King Steve, who had become your friends, like Robyn, a skinny blond girl who played in the school band and was a real genius as well as being a very good friend. You and Steve didn't even say hello to each other anymore when you walked past each other to go to your rooms Those windows that used to be portals into each other's world were now nothing more than what they really are: cold pieces of glass, allowing each other to peek into the other person's life hoping it would be worse than their own.
Everything had remained that way until this evening.
Steve recently returned from yet another party; he doesn't even know how he managed to get home to tell the truth, since he doesn't even remember getting into the car.
The boy is lying on the bed, still looking at the ceiling and wondering how many drinks he has had, when he realizes that your bedroom window is open, which is not so strange since it is the middle of summer and the muggy heat is unbearable at night, but usually the curtain was always drawn so that no one could see your little piece of heaven.
Steve, confused by alcohol does not realize what he is doing, and so in the dark, he sits on the bed and starts looking at you, trying to figure out what you were doing.
Your room has not changed that much since you were children, but some posters and books now adorn those walls that little you had so insisted on, being your favorite color. The desk is covered with open school books and notes, while on the floor was a pile of clothes, probably dirty, among which Steve could make out some clothing you had worn in the past few days.
The boy's eyes roam all over the room, trying to absorb the details of your life, looking and hoping to recognize deep down the little girl he was in love with as a child. All until he sees you.
You're lying in bed, in semi-darkness, but somehow Steve can see you, wearing a simple tank top and a pair of summer shorts, hoping to fight the heat; but it's not how you're dressed that shocks the boy, but what you're doing.
Your eyes are closed, while your head is resting on the pillow. Your right hand squeezes your right breast, since you are not wearing a bra, from above your shirt, while your left hand is in your shorts. Your mouth is ajar as you let muted moans slip from your lips as you chase your pleasure.
Steve freezes for a second looking at you knowing it is wrong what he is doing, yet he cannot shake his eyes off you. He feels his erection growing in his pants, to the point that it hurts so much that he can no longer avoid touching himself, first from above the fabric, then in desperation, he unzips the zipper of the jeans he is wearing and pulls out his member, beginning to lightly massage it. All this without ever taking his eyes off you, as if you were a magnet.
She watches as your fingers continue to circle your most sensitive spot, faster and faster and hungrier. Your breathing becomes labored and uneven, until a few minutes later you reach orgasm. Slowly your fingers stop moving, and you try to catch your breath. Your eyes are still closed and you can't see in the house in front of you, your neighbor masturbating at the sight of you climax.
Steve also comes to orgasm, a couple of minutes after you do, thus making time to hide well in the shadows, when you open your eyes, looking around as if you have the feeling you are being watched. He watches you settle down for a moment, before getting up to go to the bathroom, and at that moment Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High School, decides something.
The next orgasm you have will be at his hands.
TAGLIST
@digitalhearts @samanddeansannoyingsis @minkiles @ash04w3 @123345566 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @nightfiress @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr @starsval @imaraccoon @CaptainsBaby @titinkaaa @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @aunicornmademedoit @AlohaStitch0626
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octuscle · 6 months ago
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Hello, support? I think I need your help. I am opening a new nightclub in a couple of nights, but I am having a lot of problems finding a bouncer for the door! It seems it is a troubled neighborhood so almost no one wants to work as security here! And the few who are willing are asking for a fortune! And I don't have the skills to do it myself either! Can you help, please? I have invested a fortune and I really need to open ,and safely!
Your mother asks you if you have a job for the son of your hairdresser's neighbor's friend. For whom, please? You ask for the name. You look for a profile in the social networks. The only thing you find is the homepage of the local high school's debate club. He's obviously the president there. Holy shit! What's he going to do as a bouncer if there's a problem? Argue the people who cause trouble to death? Your mom sent a phone number. You give him a call and ask if you can meet up, you might have something for him. He says he's at the mall right now. That works for you, you're close by. You arrange to meet …. In the bookstore!!!
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His name is Hank. And he looks like a Hank. You didn't expect anything else with that name. Actually, you can end the conversation right away. Hank looks at you… A book about Siegmund Freud and the Vienna School in his hand. He says that you don't look like you could have an intellectually challenging job for him.
You reply that you're looking for someone who can deal with people. For someone with a C- grade point average, that should be challenging enough.
Hank puts the book about the 2022 football season back on the shelf. He thinks that doesn't sound so bad now. He wants you to tell more.
You say it's cool that he's interested in football. He's looking for someone who has the qualities of a good linebacker. Someone who can take a beating and still remain a wall.
Hank rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck muscles. Pretty impressive neck muscles. He says he's not averse to a good brawl. On the football field. But not off it either.
"Lit" you reply. And you tell Hank that you like his haircut. It looks brutal. Fits the job you're looking for. Hank strokes the back of his shaved head and neck. He does his best to flex his biceps to the max. His hair on top is fixed with so much gel that it almost looks like a helmet.
"Yo dude, I'm always grinding at the gym till 10pm. Can't make it earlier. Cool with that?" asks Hank. "No sweat," you reply. "The club doesn't pop off till 11 p.m. anyway, so if you roll in later, I'll be the bouncer till then. Deal, bro?" Hank gives you a fist bump that almost breaks your ankles.
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You couldn't ask for a better bouncer than Hank. An impressive figure who attracts guests like moths to a flame. But who also doesn't talk back. Hank has his door under control. And all he wants is for you to organize some steroids for him and that he doesn't get stressed when he fucks a guest in the staff bathroom during his breaks. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you are his object of desire.
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valeriianz · 2 months ago
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8 for the smutty thingy? 👀
(vroom vroom wheel wheeel gasoline vroom vroom speed speed 🏍️🏍️🏍️wuuuuuuu)
*arrives 9 months late, crawling out of the floorboards covered in blood* hi 🌼i hope you like this lol
from a prompt list: A and B are on a motorcycle trip. The constant movement, vibration and touching is getting them excited.
--------------------------
Dream curses under his breath, nearly tripping over his long legs as he slows from a run to a miserable walk, exhaling a loud groan of misery as he watches the bus take off from the stop he had meant to be at just two minutes ago.
Checking his watch, Dream wonders about ordering an Uber, or telling his date he’d be 20 minutes late. He wonders if that’s kosher; arriving late to a second date. Being late to a first date was more unforgivable– first impressions and all that, and Dream had been punctual then. 
Before he can truly overthink it, Dream decides maybe 20 minutes wouldn’t be the end of the world; he can wait for the next bus.
He’s walking back to his apartment, a block away, drafting the apology text in his mind, when he spots his downstairs neighbor coming out of his building. 
Dream unconsciously combs a hand through his hair just as the man looks up, spots Dream, and smiles.
“Hey, neighbor.”
“Hello,” Dream greets back. He’s still a little out of breath and he can almost feel the flush high on his cheekbones from the sprint he’d just attempted.
His neighbor– Hob, his name is Hob– gives Dream a brief once-over as he closes the distance between them.
“Miss your bus?” He rolls a large motorcycle helmet around and around in his hands.
Dream watches him, finally coming to a stop before Hob, just outside their apartment building.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
Hob shrugs, looking down at his helmet. “I saw you leaving.”
Dream blinks. You were watching me?
He hadn’t seen Hob as he raced down the stairs, his light jacket fluttering behind him as he tore around the corner and feebly tried to chase down the moving bus. So it makes Dream curious… if Hob watched him as much as Dream did.
Hob’s main mode of transportation was his motorcycle. The sound of it roaring to life, Hob revving the throttle, became a sort of pavlovian response in Dream. He’d rush to the window as soon as he’d hear it start, nearly pressing his nose to the glass (or opening the window altogether) just to catch a glimpse of Hob tearing out into the street. Sometimes Dream would be lucky, and catch Hob just as he exited the building, watching how the man would swing one strong leg over the large bike, settling himself in, getting comfortable.
It was Dream’s biggest guilty pleasure, watching Hob on his bike. There was something inherently erotic about the whole thing; Hob mounting his bike in his torn jeans and leather jacket. Dream could almost feel his grip on the handlebars, his fingers through Hob’s hair as he slicked it back to slip his helmet on. It felt so silly, getting excited over something as mundane as sitting on a bike. And it probably would have been… if Hob wasn’t anything but mundane.
Hob had carved out a home in Dream’s subconscious from the moment they met.
It had been when Dream was moving in. It was a hot summer day and unfortunately the building didn’t have an elevator, which meant multiple trips up and down the stairs, lugging boxes and directing his sister, Dee, how to turn the couch around a corner. Dream felt his legs starting to protest in earnest not 15 minutes into going up and down three flights of stairs. Coupled with the August heat, he had felt himself getting delusional as well. It was the only excuse why, on his ninth, tenth, or twentieth trip back up the stairs, with a heavy box of books in his hands, Dream kicked open the door to his apartment– wondering why Dee had shut it– and halted in the doorway.
The first thing Dream had seen was a large flatscreen TV, potted plants everywhere, a huge black leather couch, and a shirtless man on the floor.
Judging by the rock music that was playing, and the man’s position on the floor– on a mat– he had been working out.
And Dream had stared, the fact that this wasn’t his apartment hadn’t yet entered his muddled brain. So what he blurted out was,
“Do you come with the apartment?”
The man on the floor– sweaty, tan skin, hair everywhere, oh my god– rearranged himself to sit on his butt with his hands flat on the floor, an easy smile on his handsome face.
Then Dream’s words came back to him, making him flush from his hairline all the way to his shaking fingers still clutching the box against his chest.
“Wrong apartment,” the gorgeous, half-naked man said, his eyes were chocolate brown and so warm. “2F. You’re right above me.” He helpfully pointed a finger up to his ceiling.
“Right…” Dream eloquently said. His arms were beginning to shake from the strain. “Sorry. Uh…”
Suddenly the stranger, his new neighbor, was standing and making his way to Dream. A broad chest and corded biceps commanding all his attention and wiping Dream’s brain clean.
“Would you like a hand with that?” He gestured to the box and, before Dream could say no, thank you. I am perfectly capable of carrying my own items into my home, the man gently moved his hands under the box.
Dream allowed him to take it, his shoulders sagging in relief. The man nudged his head.
“Lead the way?”
As easy as that. The man introduced himself as Robert “But you can call me Hob, all my friends do,” said with a wink and a grin. Dee had given Dream sideways looks the rest of the afternoon, pleased with the additional help and all too aware of the besotted glimmer in her brother’s eyes.
It’s only been a few months since then, the humid summer heat transitioning blessedly into crisp, cool autumn and giving Dream plenty of time to get over his silly little crush on his downstairs neighbor.
Except that… he’s pretty sure Hob likes him, too.
“You were watching me?” Dream says aloud, deciding, fuck it. He was feeling bold today.
Hob laughs guiltily, ducking his head.
“Maybe,” his smile morphs into a grin. “Where are you headed? I can give you a ride.”
Dream’s heart trips in his chest, hope curling around his stomach and kicking up a swarm of butterflies.
This is not the first time Hob’s offered Dream a ride on his bike. Dream always declines, nerves getting the better of him but also, he truly had a fear of motorbikes. And he would always let Hob know, too, how “that thing is a death trap,” before turning the corner to wait at his usual bus stop.
Dream had never been on a motorcycle in his life and truly had no interest in starting now. Except… he does have an interest.
In Hob, specifically.
So, taking a breath to steel himself, Dream at last nods, his own lips cracking into a wide smile at the baffled look that passes across Hob’s face.
“What?”
Hob laughs softly, shy. Dream could lose himself in that laugh, it never sounded condescending or cruel… just always full of joy and ease. 
“Just happy that you finally said yes.”
Something swoops in Dream’s stomach. Elated but also a flicker of anxiety creeping up his spine over what he’d just signed up for. Not only facing one of his biggest fears, but also realizing that he’ll be wrapped around Hob, on his bike, finally able to feel how warm he would be against his chest and between his legs…
“Wait right here,” Hob’s smile is dazzling now. “Let me grab another helmet.”
Dream waits. He takes out his phone, staring at the contact for the man he’s meeting up with, and considers canceling. It would be rude, especially with such short notice. But Dream can’t deny how utterly atrocious company he’ll be, thinking about Hob the entire time.
Before Dream can make a decision, the heavy front door to the building slams shut and Dream looks up to see Hob jogging down the stairs, making his way back to Dream and tossing him a helmet.
Dream barely manages to catch it, the reality of the situation settling into his bones and suddenly freezing him to the spot.
“You look nice by the way,” Hob shoots the compliment easily, smiling as he walks past Dream to where his bike is parked at the curb just a few steps down the sidewalk. “Where are you headed?”
Dream’s legs move on autopilot, following Hob and swallowing his unease.
“Uh, Verona’s. On Main street.”
There’s a brief hesitation in the way Hob turns towards Dream once they reach his bike, his eyes flickering with something Dream isn’t able to parse.
“Oh. The Italian restaurant?”
Dream nods and he doesn’t miss how a thoughtful expression crosses Hob’s handsome face, his brows creasing slightly before he turns again, touching the handlebars before he resigns himself to something and swings a leg over the bike’s seat.
He scoots up slightly. 
“C’mon.” Hob slips the helmet over his head, obscuring his visage and turning halfway to pat the seat behind him. It’s a large bike, and there’s plenty of room for Dream to swallow his nerves and shove his own helmet on and slip onto the seat.
The helmet is tight, but not uncomfortably so. Dream can hear himself breathe, which brings attention to how terrified he is, his heart rate drumming wildly.
“Closer,” Hob pats Dream’s knee and then his side. “Don’t get self conscious on me now.” His tone is light, cheery. Probably to ease the worry of Dream being a passenger on a motorized death sentence. 
Dream holds his breath as he slips down the seat, nestling his crotch against Hob’s ass and pressing his chest into his back. Fuck, fuck, fuck–
“Arms around me,” Hob instructs, seemingly unaffected by Dream’s shaking hands ensnaring around his middle.
Dream does as instructed, wondering if Hob can hear how his nerves are screaming in a frightening mix of arousal and trepidation.
He doesn’t watch how Hob starts the bike, suddenly it’s just on. Igniting with a roar and an idle sputtering that makes the entire vehicle vibrate and makes alarm bells shriek in Dream’s ears. He tightens his grip around Hob, arms and legs.
Dream thinks he feels Hob chuckle. 
“Hold on tight.”
Dream does not need to be told twice.
Hob’s leg kicks back, his wrist flicks gently and he’s pulling out of his parking spot, his head on a swivel as he checks behind him and front, before the engine truly snarls to life and lunges into the street.
Dream squeezes Hob’s middle as their speed increases, his head pointed down against Hob’s shoulder as he fights down the urge to scream. Hob is so warm and firm in his embrace, and Dream can feel the wind whipping past him, the motorbike vibrating under him, and the muffled sounds of the motor in his thick helmet.
It’s exhilarating, and terrifying. Dream gasps loudly as they make a turn, his grip on Hob becoming impossibly tighter as they zip through traffic.
“You alright back there?” Hob yells, his helmet turning slightly.
“K-keep your eyes on the road!” Dream shrieks. 
Hob laughs, his head facing forward again. The sound of Hob’s laughter, even muted by their helmets and the wind, compels Dream to relax. He takes a chance to lift his head, watching the scenery speed by, and bit by bit Dream unwinds, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth. He focuses again on Hob, how comfortably Dream fits against his backside, how calm and loose he is operating the bike, as if having a human-sized constrictor crushing his sternum and thighs is nothing.
Dream takes a deep breath, his pulse jumping as they hit a bump and his crotch unintentionally pushes against Hob’s ass (which, now that Dream is calming down, he’s able to notice how softly and teasingly it cushions his narrow hips). He turns his head, resting the side of his helmet against Hob’s shoulder as he unclenches his fingers from Hob’s jacket and instead carefully slips his hands inside of it. His hands still shake slightly, but the warmth from Hob’s body– prominent even through his shirt and the cool wind– eradicate that tingling feeling in his knuckles from gripping for too long.
Dream exhales, his eyes fluttering shut as he gives his trust completely to Hob. There is still that flicker of fear, but as the minutes drag on, Dream becomes used to the bike. 
And, unfortunately– Dream feels himself flush– he is aroused. 
It is easier to focus on how embarrassingly flustered he swiftly becomes, his breathing coming out shaky and labored, his cock taking interest now in Hob’s plump ass, even between two layers of jeans. The bumps in the road and the vibrating seat certainly don’t help.
Before he knows it, Hob is slowing, and when Dream opens his eyes, they are at the restaurant.
Dream blinks. He had forgotten that he was going on a date. And not with Hob.
“Here you are,” Hob announces, bending a leg out to prop up the bike.
“Ah, thank you…” Dream coughs slightly and swallows. He does not untangle himself from Hob. He feels his neck heat up as, all at once, he realizes he’s hard.
He wonders if Hob can feel it, he certainly brings no attention to it. Doesn’t shove him off or give any further indication of their current location.
“You, ah… are you meeting someone?”
The bike is idling, their helmets still on, so Hob has to raise his voice, and it makes Dream flinch. But he doesn’t take off his helmet. Or move. He merely nods. Hob somehow catches it in his peripheral.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” He shakes his head and Dream’s stomach clenches.
“What’s wrong?”
Hob laughs, but it’s not the usual carefree laugh that Dream so often thinks about, fantasizes about hearing late at night, alone in his bed, taking himself apart to visions of Hob smiling and laughing and moaning in delight as he touches Dream all over–
“I had no idea you were– you know– taken.” His voice is quiet, guarded. “Wouldn’t have been so obvious.” His fingers clench around the handlebars. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortable? Ah… something lights up within Dream, a surge of confidence rushing through his veins. 
“I am not uncomfortable,” Dream says simply. He takes a steadying breath and tightens his hold around Hob, his fingers digging into his ribs and– throwing caution to the wind– cants his hips up just enough to bring attention to his erection pressed against Hob’s ass.
Dream can hear the sharp catch in Hob’s breath even through the helmet.
“And you weren’t being ‘obvious.’ If you were, I would have taken the opportunity to make my interests known much sooner.”
A hand covers one of Dream’s, making his breath hitch. Hob’s head turns to look over his shoulder.
“Then who is waiting for you?” He inclines his head towards the restaurant.
“No one.” It might be cruel, but Dream realizes there is no one else he’d rather be with at the very moment. He doesn’t want to wait a moment longer now that he knows the longing in his chest is reciprocated. Dream wants to keep the man in his arms and never let him go.
Dream squeezes his thighs around Hob and hooks his chin over Hob’s shoulder, their helmets tapping together. 
“Take me home, Hob.”
Dream can feel how Hob’s breathing has picked up, his back flexing against Dream’s chest as he wastes no time in retracting his foot from the ground and speeding back towards home.
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icyg4l · 25 days ago
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PAC: how to feel more festive
hello divas! today’s PAC is going to be short and simple. i am doing a holiday themed reading that will advise you on how to handle halloween, thanksgiving and christmas! also, if you would like to book a reading with me, don’t be afraid to do so! so without further ado, select the pile that resonates with you.
left-to-right: (1-3)
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pile one: put yourself in a position to give. be a good host! one thing that you can do is give out clothes/food to the homeless or go to goodwill. give out candy to trick or treaters. make your home a safe haven for the month of october for your friends & family. take the initiative to be grateful for the things that you have. if you don’t need it, then don’t stress about it. give away candy (even the leftovers) to trick or treaters in the neighborhood. if you’re an adult who lives in a neighborhood with no families, perhaps you could host a little gathering with your neighbors/co-workers on halloween/thanksgiving/christmas. it costs nothing to think of others. :)
cards used: prince of cups, 6 of discs, the empress, the chariot.
pile two: if you’re introverted, now’s the time to get out of your comfort zone. you know of all the parties that are to come. you know of people who are hosting said halloween/friendsgiving/christmas parties. put yourself in a position to have fun! you may have had trouble balancing your energy between work/school/life but you got it babe! go outside. go to the movies to see a horror movie. go to a haunted house. go to a museum that specializes in horror. for those of you who are a bit more brave, go visit a graveyard & pay tribute to your ancestors. go ice skating. book the ticket to visit your family/friends back home. literally just go outside of your house for onceeee.
cards used: the star, 7 of cups (rx), 2 of wands, 6 of discs.
pile three: take more risks! if you’ve been thinking of dressing slutty for halloween, do it. if you’re worried abt being cold, wear fleece leggings. substitute the mini skirt for a longer skirt. you have a lot on your plate, i can tell. however, this holiday season is all about choosing comfort versus choosing to step out of your box. do you want to leave your hometown for the holidays or do you want to stay? you need to work on being more decisive. holidays seem to stress you out a lot. treat yourself to a self-care day or go down to the spa. now’s the time to get grounded, my dear.
cards used: queen of discs, 9 of wands, 2 of discs, 9 of swords.
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thetiredasthmatic · 2 years ago
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Welcome Home, Y/n.
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Synop: You were tired of your family life, tired of having only once time to enjoy yourself. So when the opportunity permits, you choose to go Home.
A/n: please take it easy on me..I lowkey think this sucks but I hope you like it 😭
Your mother never allowed you to have access to media, whether it be your own cell phone to have contact with your friends, or a T.V. to enjoy yourself.
Your brother(24) and sister(26) were only allowed to have that stuff as your mother would routinely tell you(19) that you didn’t deserve it. That it would rotten your brain and that she was the only thing you needed to listen to.
It was a culture shock each time you went over to your best friend's house, (the few times your mother allowed it.) She always showed you knew things, like her many game systems, her favorite t.v shows and her favorite websites to visit.
(F/n) felt bad for you, so she wanted to show you what all you missed out in your younger years.
Today was one of those days.
“Y/n! You like old cartoons, right??”
She asked excitedly, and the question made you tilt your head in confusion.
She held a devious grin on her face as she reached under her bed to pull out an old box.
"I found this while at my grandma's! She doesn't know I have it, but I did some research on it, and apparently, it's an old cartoon from the 70s!" She says happily before pulling out some of the old merchandise.
You could see from the worn-out name on the box that it was called Welcome Home, and from what you could tell, it was a puppet show similar to Sesame Street or the Muppets.
You reached your hand in the box to pull out what seemed to be like a concept book. When you opened the book, you were enamored with the colorful characters and the cute designs.
Your eyes immediately drifted to a blue pompadour having puppet, it's deep eyes looking back at you, almost like they were staring right at you.
Or through you…
"Wow…"
"Cool right? We can watch some episodes online actually!" You watched as your bestie set up her laptop.
"There's a restoration project going on and the first few episodes have been released!" (F/n) giggles in excitement as she moves things around in her room.
Your eyes were glued to the screen as the color puppets roared to life on the screen.
"Hello Neighbor~, Welcome back to the Neighborhood!" The blue haired one, that your friend called Wally Darling.
Apparently according to her ramblings he was the main puppet in the neighborhood. He liked painting, apples and you assumed eye contact. Or maybe that was just how he looked.
"Ooo~ You like Wally don't you Y/n?"
"F/n…shush. I just think he has a cool design."
F/n let out a gremlin like giggle as she explained the plot of each episode as you watched. Each time you felt like Wally's eyes were only on you.
Like everytime he was on screen, supposedly talking to another one of his neighbors, his eyes would be staring right back at your.
F/n explained it away as that just being his character, but you felt otherwise but decided to be quiet about it.
Either way you found a grin making its way on your face as the puppet talked on the screen. The kindness that they showed each other and the way they treated each other as family….
It made you a bit sad.
Damn even a puppet show had a better life than you did.
—---------
Despite you not wanting to make your parents upset. Your best friend made you take her laptop with you.
It was small and looked like a notebook. She knew how your home life was, and she wanted you to be able to have fun.
So here you were, back at home, up in your room, on the laptop she had given you.
You decided to do your own research on the puppet show and found a website attached to it!
You smiled brightly as you decided to search through, learning more and more about the characters, the show, and the whole restoration project.
You even found yourself doodling the characters, especially Wally.
It was just something about the main puppet that had you drawn to him. He was a charmer, a little mischievous and really adorable to you.
You could've sworn he was talking to your through the website.
Everytime you came across an image of Wally, it seems like his eyes would drift from the direction they were originally to look at you.
'You're looking for me?'
'You're so pretty neighbor'
'Won't you come home?..'
Were some of the messages you got as you browsed the website and you felt like eyes were boring into you. Even when you finally finished and closed your laptop for the day. You still felt the eyes on you.
But it was more comforting that the eyes of your family.
You were the youngest of three. It was seen as the failure of the family due to your anxiety and depression.
It often keeps you from doing tasks or having normal friendships, and instead of getting you help, your mother babies you and treats you like a child.
Preventing you from having friends or trying to better yourself. Always holding your siblings in a higher regard.
It's probably why you felt more comfort in a damn children's t.v. show than your own family.
"You're so much more welcoming than my home…" you muttered and sighed. You flopped back on your bed and stared up at your ceiling.
"I wish I could join the neighborhood…maybe then someone will treat me nicely.. "
You felt like someone was intensely staring at you as those words left your lips, though your room was completely dark.
You then heard the footsteps of your mother coming down the hall. You hurriedly pushed the laptop under your pillow and made it look like you were asleep.
You hated that you weren't allowed to do the things your siblings did.
You were infantilized, and all you wanted was freedom. Freedom to do as you pleased, freedom and a loving family that treated you as equal…
You wanted a place where you could truly be yourself, not hiding behind some facade you were forced to live behind.
You sighed as you felt yourself drifting off into sleep, a soft monotonous voice heard lulling you to sleep.
"Come home darling…"
"I'll be waiting for you…"
‐—---------------
You yawned as the sunlight beamed on your face. You rubbed your eyes before going to get out of bed only to fall out of it.
You expected to hit your hard floor but landed on a fluffy rug.
This made you shoot up in confusion before you realized you were not in your own home.
You heard footsteps coming towards the room you were in and you were frozen in your spot on the floor as you saw the door open.
"Neighbor…are you alright in here? I heard a thud?"
You stared in disbelief as your eyes locked with the dark ones of Wally Darling.
You blinked and rubbed your eyes again, even pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. When you felt the sharp pain of your pinch, your eyes widened in realization.
Wally was standing in the doorway, staring down at you watching your every move.
"Are you alright, Neighbor?" Wally asked again and You quickly got up and went to hug Wally tightly.
The male froze and nearly went limp in your arms, not knowing what to do.
This is not what he expected at all! He was expecting someone who was scared, angry, and wanted to leave.
Instead He had you in his arms, thanking him and excitedly rambling on about what you were going to do.
To say he was confused was a severe understatement.
He had taken an interest in you as soon as he saw you beside F/n. He listened in to your conversations and learned as much as he could about you.
He knew your favorite color, he knew about your home life, he knew about your love for cartoons and colorful things.
Wally learned a lot in that short span of time.
So when your friend offered her laptop for you to take home. Wally took that as an opportunity to invite you home. He just wasn't expecting someone so eager to join him I'm the neighborhood.
He heard you ask to join the neighborhood, and Wally was practically beaming with joy.
He was so excited to finally have a neighbor who wanted to stay!
You let the male go, smiling and thanking him. Pulling him along excitedly to go and meet the other neighbors.
You were an enigma to him.
Hes had many neighbors come and go, many of them failing to see the greatness that he saw in this little humble town.
But you.
You were excited to make new friends, excited to start a new.
You were excited to finally have a chance to be you.
And Wally wanted to be by your side as it happened.
"Well, let us go meet the others, shall we?"
—----------
Im sorry if this is trash, i just wanted to try my hand at writing for Welcome Home 😭
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yan-lorkai · 3 months ago
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I didn't like the result of this oneshot to be honest, idk, the idea was good but the writing turned out bad along the way. But this had been sitting on my drafts for quite a while so I'm just gonna post it so I don't have to look at it whenever I open my drafts. Maybe you darlings can find something about this enjoyable, maybe not.
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You wake up slowly, the first light of dawn slipping through the gap in your curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. The soft illumination reveals the familiar shapes of your bed, wardrobe, a small table, and a few scattered books.
You reach for your phone and check the time: 7 AM. For a few moments, you simply lie there, processing the fact that you were awake so early, trying to recall if you had any dreams. You vaguely remember a loud noise but can’t quite place it if it was real or part of your dream.
Stretching lazily, you begin to shake off the remnants of sleep. As you become more alert, the sound you thought was part of a dream becomes clearer, vivid. What initially seemed like distant murmurs from your neighbors now grows distinct, nearer.
The voices aren’t coming from outside — they’re inside your house. Someone - not one but two people - were inside your house right at that moment, talking excitedly in whispers and murmurs. You blinked, confused, questioning if your mind was playing tricks on you.
"Jamil, this place is incredible! Look at all these things!" The voice is energetic and familiar, bursting with excitement. You can almost picture the person’s smile just by hearing it.
"Please, Kalim, don’t touch anything until we figure out what’s going on," Another voice responds, calm but firm, tinged with exasperation. It’s a voice you recognize as well. "We need to understand where we are first. I’m still investigating."
Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, your feet meeting the cool wooden floor. You hesitate, wondering if you should grab something for protection, but there’s nothing within reach. A book, a vase, a shoe, nothing that could injury or incapacitate a thief. With your heart pounding and without thinking much, you open the bedroom door.
In the hallway, you see something that wasn't expected: Kalim, with his silver hair and colorful attire, is curiously examining the objects around him, while Jamil, his eyes sharp and arms crossed, surveys the scene cautiously.
"Oh my God…" Your voice is barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief. You close the door quickly, trying to wrap your mind around what you’ve just seen. After a few more seconds, with your heart racing, you open it again.
"Uh, hello! I’m Kalim and this is my friend Jamil. I think… we got lost and ended up here. What place is this?" Kalim asks, his sweet smile making your heart skip a beat. Your face heats a little as you struggle to find words.
This time, Kalim and Jamil, your favorite characters from Twisted Wonderland, are standing right in front of your door, Kalim’s hand raised as if he was about to knock. You freeze, staring at them as they stare back at you.
It's a little awkward, really. Being so close to them like that, seeing how different they are from their 2D version. Kalim shifts the weight from his leg to one over the other, a smile growing on his face.
Is this real or a dream? You can’t tell.
Realizing you need to respond, you clear your throat and explain that they’re in your house and tell them the name of your country. Jamil looks puzzled for a second.
"I beg your pardon? Could you repeat the country name?"
You do, aware that it doesn’t exist in their world — not from what you remember, there wasn't an equivalent of it in their world, still you just started playing so you didn't know much about it or about them, as you were still in Savanaclaw chapter. Kalim and Jamil exchange glances.
Jamil, clearly uneasy, speaks up. "We need to find a way back home. Could you possibly help us?"
As he begins explaining how they ended up here - through a portal that appeared from thin air and brought them there, you notice from the corner of your eye Kalim wandering around, his curiosity piqued by everything in the room. He picks up a book from the shelf, flipping through it with childlike wonder, occasionally letting out a delighted squeal when he spots a particularly beautiful picture or drawing. It's cute to see.
"Look, Jamil! This book has so many interesting stories!" Kalim turns to you, eyes sparkling. "You have so many beautiful things here. I wouldn’t mind staying a little longer."
You smile, feeling more at ease. "Well, that’s good to hear, because magic isn't real here nor anyone knows how to use it, so I’m not sure how much I can help you two."
Jamil nods, his expression thoughtful as he processes this new information. He falls silent, clearly rethinking his plans. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is — more so than you imagined. A selfish part of you doesn’t want them to return to Twisted Wonderland, even though you know they have people waiting for them back home.
"Can I make breakfast for you two?" You offer, hoping to lighten the mood. Kalim’s face lights up instantly.
Kalim has his siblings, his parents, so does Jamil. Despite your thoughts, you want to help. You’ve read enough isekai stories to understand how painful it must be to be away from everything familiar. They've might love here for a few weeks but then homesickness will kick in.
"I’d love that! Especially if it’s something different from what we eat in Scarabia," He responds, placing the book back on its original place.
Kalim eagerly sits down, his eyes darting around, taking in every detail of your kitchen. Jamil, on the other hand, sits more cautiously, his posture straight and alert.
As you head to the kitchen, still surprised and speechless, Kalim and Jamil following closely behind, both still taking in the unfamiliar surrounding. You gesture for them to take a seat at the small kitchen table. "Make yourselves comfortable. It might not be as grand as what you’re used to, but I’ll whip up something tasty."
As you start gathering ingredients, you hear Kalim ask, "So, what kind of food do you usually eat here? Is it spicy? Sweet?"
You chuckle at his enthusiasm. "I have a bit of everything. But I think you’ll like pancakes. They’re sweet, especially with some syrup or fruit."
"Pancakes?" Kalim repeats, the word foreign yet intriguing to him. "That sounds delicious!"
Jamil, still cautious but visibly more relaxed, adds, "It might be best to eat something simple. We don't know how long we’ll be here."
You nod, understanding his concern. "Don’t worry, pancakes are quick and easy. We can figure out the rest after breakfast."
As you prepare the batter, Kalim continues to pepper you with questions about your world, about you or your family, about this country or the culture. He’s fascinated by everything, from the kitchen appliances to the types of food you describe, from the legends and old myths to the songs and stories. Jamil listens quietly, occasionally nodding, but it’s clear his mind is focused on something else - probably the situation they’re in and how to resolve it.
After a few minutes, the kitchen fills with the mouth-watering aroma of pancakes cooking on the griddle. Kalim’s eyes widen as he watches you flip them with practiced ease.
"Wow, you’re really good at this!" Kalim exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat.
You smile, enjoying the warmth of their company despite the odd circumstances. "I’ve had a lot of practice. Plus, pancakes are pretty tasty so I eat them often."
As you serve the pancakes with syrup and some fruits, Kalim eagerly reaches for a plate, his excitement contagious. Jamil takes his with more restraint but seems genuinely curious about the taste.
Kalim takes a big bite and his eyes widen in delight. "These are amazing! Jamil, you have to try them!"
Jamil cuts a small piece, his expression remaining neutral as he tastes it - he was wearing that same neutral face as you cooked, watching over you like a hawk so you wouldn't try to poison Kalim. But after a moment, a small, appreciative smile appears on his lip. "They’re quite good."
You feel a sense of satisfaction seeing them enjoy something so simple. As you sit down to eat with them, Kalim continues to chatter, sharing stories about his world, his life at Scarabia, and all the adventures he’s been on, all which you know about since you spent so much time reading his and Jamil's vignettes. Jamil, while more reserved, occasionally chimes in with corrections or additional details, his tone always careful but respectful.
The conversation flows easily and you find yourself getting lost in their stories, almost forgetting that this whole situation is surreal. But eventually, the reality of it starts to settle in again and you realize that, as much as you’re enjoying their company, you need to help them find a way back.
"So," You begin, setting down your fork, "do you have any idea how you got here? Maybe we can figure out a way to reverse it."
Jamil straightens, his expression serious. "It’s still unclear. We were performing a task in the Hall of Mirrors when a portal unexpectedly opened. I tried to close it, but it pulled us through before I could react."
Kalim, still enjoying his pancakes, adds, his mouth half full as he respond to you, "I thought it was just another adventure, but now… it seems more complicated than that."
You nod, trying to piece together what they’re saying with your limited knowledge of their world. "I don’t have magic, but maybe there’s something here that can help. Books, maybe? Or something from the internet?"
Jamil raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Books and the internet? Perhaps there’s information that could be useful. We should start with what you have here."
Kalim, still beaming from the breakfast, jumps to his feet. "I’m ready to help! Where should we start?"
You glance around your home, thinking about where to begin. "I have some books on mythology and folklore that might have similar stories. And I can look up anything online that seems relevant. We’ll figure this out together."
Jamil nods, his expression a mix of determination and gratitude. "Thank you. Your help is greatly appreciated."
As you all prepare to dive into research, a sense of fear is palpable in the air, almost as if they were afraid they wouldn't be able to return home. Wishing on a star was something you used to do, you wished hard for things to happen, for things to be possible. And now they were. Jamil and Kalim were here, by your side, Kalim sitting beside you while Jamil was resting his face on his hands, tired. And as you begin your search, you can’t help but feel that this something out of a silly story. And you're going to do your best to send them back home.
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