#i did not expect to be sitting here making 9 more gifs but here we are!!!

[expelliarmus]

[ronanlynchbf]

hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT

[janeyseymour]

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- part 2

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- Part 1.

Summary: Melissa has always shown up for you, from the start, in ways Millie knows Carrie could never.

WC: ~3k

���—

For as much as Melissa did wonders with my momma, that’s only the beginning. What Carrie didn’t do for me, Melissa did that and so much more.

——

“I didn’t do much for you, kid,” the redhead looks to your daughter with a look. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

“You haven’t even started reading,” Millie points out. “Stop talking and just read.”

“When did you get so bossy?” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully.

“Being a mother to a hard headed four year old will do that to you,” your daughter quips.

——

Growing up and adjusting to this new life was an easy transition. I had already lived with Melissa for a months at this point, and that was like a whole lifetime at my young age. The woman that would eventually become my step-mother, and then my mother, showed up for me in the biggest ways, but also in the smallest ways- ways I didn’t even realize she could.  A few months into my momma being with Melissa, Momma signed me up for gymnastics class for the first time. I was beyond nervous. But Momma assured me that it would all be fine- it would be good for me. Melissa showed up to the first practice, running into the gymnasium viewing room, after a meeting at her job. My eyes lit up as soon as I saw the red ponytail make its way in. She didn’t have to be there for me, but she was.  Carrie wouldn’t have shown up to my first gymnastics class. She probably wouldn’t have even known Momma signed me up until the money came out of the account despite my mother definitely telling her about it. And because Carrie would have only seen the money come out, she would’ve flipped. But Melissa did. Melissa came to every class from that day on. She bought me more leotards and scrunchies than a girl could need. Melissa showed up to every showcase, every meet- cheering me and my teammates on with the same levels of enthusiasm as any other parent. Thinking back on it, it was probably more than what the other parents did- I could pick her voice out among the crowd every time. My Melly was always the loudest one there, cheering as loudly as she could. Carrie would’ve never, but Melissa did. No matter what I did, my Melly was always there. 

——

“I’m here!” Melissa came sprinting into the gym. “I’m here!”

“Hun, you didn’t have to rush here,” you chuckled as she settled in next to you, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. It was clear she had pretty much run here. “Mill would’ve told you all about it when we got home.”

“And miss her first gymnastics practice?” Melissa scoffed. “Over my dead body, Y/N.”

Millie caught side of the red hair, and her eyes lit up. The slightly nervous body language turned into the bright little girl that you were used to seeing. Her wave was enthusiastic as ever.

When the practice was over, Millie came running out. When you had expected her to come running into your arms with giggles, showing off the stamps on her hands that her teacher had given her, she went right to Melissa- practically tackling her.

“You came!” your daughter squealed.

Melissa hugged your daughter with the same enthusiasm. “Of course I did, Mill! Did you really think I would miss this?”

It was Millie’s first meet- the first time she would ever stand in front of a judge and do her routines. Melissa and you were sitting in the stands as you watched her warm up. Your heart was racing, but you tried to appear calm. The redhead was decked out in team gear and taking pictures of almost every move your little girl was making.

“Mel,” you chuckled softly.

“What?!” Your girlfriend scoffed. “If you think I’m not taking pictures and videos through this whole thing, you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“Melissa,” you scolded her quietly. “We are at a children’s gymnastics competition. Watch your mouth please. I don’t want to get kicked out of the first one.”

“If you think I’m not taking pictures and videos through this whole thing, you’re freakin’ crazy. Better?”

“I’ll take what I can get,” you rolled your eyes as you pecked her cheek.

You were a nervous wreck any time that your daughter was on any of the apparatuses. Melissa was all grins, and she was so proud to announce that Millie was her girlfriend’s daughter whenever she’s finished. Millie ended up winning, standing on the top platform of the podium with medals around her neck, a trophy in her hand, and a dazzling smile on her face. She made eye contact with you, and then with Melissa. 

When your daughter was finally allowed to make her way over to you, she came barreling into your arms. It was warm, and it was perfect. And then she was in your girlfriend’s arms, and Melissa told her how proud she was of her- how she was a great athlete, but more importantly she was a great sport to her teammates and the other competitors.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” Melissa had whispered to your little girl, doting a few kisses to the top of her head.

“I am,” Millie replied. “But I’m hungry. Can we go home?”

“Yeah, baby,” you chuckled. “Why don’t we grab some food on the way back?”

Your little girl shrugged. “I’d rather have Melly’s cooking.”

For the rest of your daughter’s gymnastics career, it became tradition for the three of you to go home and enjoy some of the redhead’s cooking.

——

“Those were… I do not miss almost having a heart attack every competition,” you chuckle softly. 

“You’re so dramatic, Momma,” Millie tells you. “I was perfectly fine. Never even got hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you protest. “You just wait ’til Hadley starts doing more than cartwheels and forward rolls, and then come talk to me.”

“Would you quit talking?” your wife groans. “I wanna keep reading about how great I am,” she adds in a singsong voice.

You roll your eyes, but you lean into her touch again and begin to read the next page. 

——

When I was ten, I was hellbent on getting a pet. Carrie never fathomed the idea of having a pet in our house, but Melissa was open to it because I wanted one. She didn’t necessarily want one, claimed that she would be the one to have to take care of it in the end.  Momma wasn’t too keen on the idea either. Still, on a day where Melly and I had off school and Momma was at work, Melissa took me down to the pet store. We left hand in hand giggling about the fact that we had just bought a guinea pig that we both absolutely fell in love with. Momma wasn’t too happy to see that we had gone behind her back and adopted an animal without talking to her first, but when she saw how excited we were, she couldn’t resist.  Melissa and I adored Sweet Cheeks (yes, that was my guinea pig’s name). We spent hours building him a hut from popsicle sticks, laughing until we were red in the face when I accidentally glued my fingers together. We used to practice my reading with him. Having him in either one of our arms at any given time was the usual.  Carrie would’ve never. She would’ve called that thing a rat- would’ve insisted that we get rid of it had Momma and I brought Sweet Cheeks into the house. But Melissa did.

——

“We had that thing for years,” you mumble. “I swear, the two of you were more excited to see Sweet Cheeks than you were me.”

“Could you blame us?” Millie giggles as she leans over her daughter to kiss your cheek.

You gasp, affronted. “Amelia!”

“Had’s the same way with our dog,” Noah promises you. “Don’t take it personally.”

——

When I was eleven, my momma and Melissa got engaged. She even asked me, a silly little eleven year old, for my blessing. And while we had planned how she would propose, Melly blew it the night we got the ring at dinner. Still, it was the perfect proposal.

——

“Millie!” Melissa knocked on your daughter’s bedroom door gently as she pushed it open. “Can we talk?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No,” the redhead chuckled. “Why do you always think you’re in trouble when you don’t do nothin’ wrong?”

Millie shrugged. “What’s up?”

“I have a serious question for you,” Melissa sighed as she sat on the bed. “You know… your momma and I have been dating for a little bit now.”

“Yeah?”

“And I was wondering… if you wouldn’t mind if I asked her to marry me?”

Millie’s froze for a few seconds before all but launching herself at your girlfriend. “Really?”

“Really,” Melissa smiled. “I- I love your momma, and I love you, and I- I think it’s time we make it official.”

“Ask her. Do it. She’ll say yes.”

It was a week later that Melissa took Millie out for a girls day over the weekend. You were not invited- they were ring shopping.

Three stores and eight thousand dollars later, your girlfriend and daughter came home from their day out. You were settled in on the couch, a book in your hands.

Upon hearing the front door open, you closed your book and prepared for Millie to come flying in. She did exactly that, tackling you in a hug.

“Did you two have a good girls day?” you chuckled.

Melissa nodded as she made her way over to you, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Kid had the time of her life at the arcade.” A lie, but you fell for it- the redhead would take your daughter to an arcade.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Well, I’m going to start dinner,” Melissa told you. “I hope you’ll join me.”

The three of you made dinner together in the same warmth that you always did- always light, always full of laughter and joy.

But then you sat for your meal, and the redhead began to squirm in her seat. The thought of not being engaged to you was driving her crazy, and the ring box felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket.

“You okay?” you furrowed your brows, concerned for your girlfriend.

The redhead bit her lip, mumbled a soft apology to your daughter, and then dropped to one knee right then and there.

“Melissa, what are you doing?” you gasped, not quite catching on yet. “Did you just- are you okay?”

The teacher pulled the ring box out of her pocket, opened it, and took a deep breath. “Y/N, I was gonna wait to do this at dinner tomorrow with Barb and Ger here, but I- I can’t wait.”

“Melissa,” you whispered, and your eyes began to cloud with tears.

“Y/N,” your girlfriend started. “I am so… deeply in love with you, in love with the family we forged, in love with the life we live. I don’t ever want to lose it, you, or Millie. Will you marry me?”

——

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t hold out one more day,” Millie quips. “I mean, how hard would it have been to wait another twenty four hours?”

“Hey,” your son in-law interjects. “I was the same way with proposing to you, and you loved it.”

“Because that’s us… this is my parents we’re talking about.”

“We never did anythin’ conventional; why would our proposal have been?” your wife teases.

——

When I was twelve, they got married. I still never thought I would call Melissa ‘Mom’. She would just always be my Melly. When I was also twelve, Melly asked me if she could adopt me as her own. As a child who grew up with a mother who hadn’t ever wanted her, to know that someone loved you so much to want to be able to claim you as their own… it’s an overwhelming feeling. I of course accepted her proposition, but I also made her very aware of the fact that I would probably never call her ‘Mom’. I thought that maybe with my insistence that I would never call her mom, despite the legal title she would now hold, she would turn on me. She never did. She was still Melly- always there for me in any way she could be.

——

“I can’t believe you ever thought I would turn on you,” Melissa nudges your daughter. “As if I hadn’t already thought of you as my daughter and had for years at that point.”

“I was twelve, Ma,” Millie reminds your wife. “I was vulnerable.”

——

When I was a freshman in high school, Melly was there for me. For God’s sake, she put together my bouquet. Momma helped, but Melly really outdid herself. And when we all were lining up for pictures at the house, there was Melly, front and center, acting like the paparazzi. Carrie would've never let my friends step foot into our house. But Melissa did- she encouraged them to come over because she knew it would make me happy. When I was fifteen, she caught me sneaking back into the house. She was absolutely furious- and she should’ve been. But where my biological mother, had she still been in my life, probably would’ve whooped my stupid ass, Melly pulled me into a tight hug, looked up to the ceiling, and thanked God that I was safe. When I was sixteen, I had my first heartbreak. Carrie would’ve told me I was lucky to have love in the first place- that I was an unlovable, spoiled brat. She told Momma that nobody would ever love her except her, because Momma was a broken woman. And Momma, for as wonderful as she is, had a hard time dealing with it. It absolutely shattered her soul to see me so broken. Momma did what she could to be there for me, but ultimately, I knew this was an issue I would go to Melly over- seeing my momma so upset was heartbreaking for me. But Melissa, she was there for me. She laid in bed with me, held me while I cried, watched terrible romance movies with me, had Ben and Jerry’s lining the freezer. That was the first time I ever called her by a title other than ‘Melissa’ or ‘Melly’. In that moment, she was ‘Ma’- a title that would become her own.

——

“Mill,” Melissa whispered upon seeing your daughter with red, swollen eyes and curled up in a mess of blankets.

“I’m fine, Melly,” Millie grumbled, not bothering to look at her mother.

Your wife just gave her a pointed look. “Mills, it’s just me. Momma is… sitting outside on the porch right now.”

The blonde bit her lip and finally glanced over to the redhead. “I- I can’t believe he cheated on me.”

“Kiddo, you just say the word, and I’ll have my-”

“I don’t need your cousin beating up my ex.”

“Then what do you need?”

Millie sighed a heavy sigh. “To be told that this sucks, and to cry. Maybe ice cream.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m way ahead of you. Should I get Sweet Cheeks to sit with us?” Melissa offered as she turned towards the hall.

“Yeah.”

The teacher just gave a sad smile before heading out to where you were sitting on the front porch.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “How’s Mill?”

“I’m gonna be in with her and Sweet Cheeks for a while,” Melissa relayed. “You gonna be okay on your own for tonight?”

You glanced up and looked into those green eyes you had grown so fond of. “Yeah.”

“Okay, honey. I believe you.” She made her way further out onto the porch, just enough to cup your cheek gently in her hand. She pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before wiping away a tear with the pad of her thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Thank you for being there for Mill when I can’t.”

The redhead gave you a knowing nod. “She understands this is hard for you- especially with the cheating and your past.”

Then, she was off to the kitchen, grabbing a pint of ice cream and two spoons before heading for the beloved pet of the family and back to your daughter.

Hours later, Sweet Cheeks having been put back in his cage after the first movie, Millie and Melissa sat together in silence as yet another movie droned on.

“Thank you,” Millie whispered softly as she tightened her hold on your wife.

The teacher just dropped a kiss to her forehead. “You know I’m always here for you, Mills.”

“I know,” your daughter breathed out quietly as she rested her head on Melissa’s shoulder. “Thanks. I love you, Ma.”

——

“You know, you callin’ me ‘Ma’ for the first time? It was the best moment of my life.” Melissa’s eyes go soft. “I wish it had been a better circumstance, but… wow.”

“That was the best moment of your life?” you raise a brow. “Not, you know… marrying me?”

“Babe, you know being called ‘Ma’ was the best feeling for me.”

“You know if you never married me, you would never have been given that title in the first place,” you point out, pushing her hand off your leg.

Your wife just shrugs, a twinkle in her eye.

“Melissa Ann,” you pretend to scold gently.

“I love you,” she promises you as she pulls you in for a gentle kiss. Then she turns her head in the direction of the kitchen. “I gotta check on the chili. Give me five minutes, but then I’m sure there’s more than this?”

Millie just chuckles and pulls more papers from her bag. “Go, Ma. It’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Your wife pulls Hadley from your lap and settles her on her hip before heading into the kitchen.

All you can do is look at your daughter with a proud smile.

“Mill, this is… fantastic writing. One of my favorite pieces that you’ve done.”

“Ma deserves to know that she’s somethin’ special.”

——

TAGS:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (10)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: she finds herself as a pivotal lead in the case. wc: 4k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: I’m so sorry this took so long. I realize I’m not smart enough to be writing a crime-mystery plot so this went through a lot of editing😭

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Y/N NEVER THOUGHT SHE WOULD SPEND HER MORNING THIS WAY, the unfamiliarity of this foreign place had her questioning how her life turned out the way it did. Becoming a witness to a heinous crime was already overwhelming enough for her, and now sitting in this cold, empty interrogation room was making her lose her mind.

She had never thought of being in this situation—a scenario that solely belonged to crime novels and thrilling movies. Yet, here she was, feeling more uncomfortable as time passed by. She slowly glanced toward the two-way mirror and the thought of watchful eyes observing her every movement intensified her discomfort, leaving her feeling judged and exposed. But above all that, there was one question that seemed to float at the top of her head.

Was Spencer there?

She heaved out a sigh. The one time she allowed herself to indulge further with her one-night-stand, it didn’t go the way she expected. She had thought that maybe—maybe—opening her heart was something she could try again. After a long time of not wanting to be romantically involved with anyone, waking up in his bed hadn’t seemed so bad...

Now it was just wishful thinking, her past naive self becoming a mockery to her now.

She was engrossed in her own thoughts when the door to her left suddenly creaked, drawing her attention, and she couldn't stifle the disbelief laugh slipping through her mouth.

"Out of all the agents in this building and they decided to send you?" She wondered as Spencer cautiously walked into the room with a file in his hand. "Isn't this against the rules?"

"What is?" He asked, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Questioning someone you know personally."

He regarded her with a look she couldn't quite decipher. Something about him seemed so different, it was baffling how someone could change so drastically in such a short period. Last night he had been sweet, attentive, and full of affection. But now, as she looked at him, it was as if he had morphed into a completely different person. The warmth that had once radiated from his eyes was replaced by a distant, guarded gaze.

Spencer Reid and Doctor Reid were really two different people.

"My personal matters won't intervene in the work I do."

"Somehow I doubt that," she murmured, watching as he sat down. She leaned back and crossed her arms. If he was going to act like they hadn't spent the night sleeping on the same bed, she might as well give him the same reserved attitude. "So, what now? Are we going to continue where we left off?"

"Actually, there's something else I'd like to know." He pushed the folder in his hand across the table and opened it. "I'm aware that you were associated with Harvey Webb?"

What the—

A sudden chill ran down her spine as the name slipped from his mouth. It was the last person she wanted to remember, a name she had fought so hard to push into the depths of her subconscious. But now it all came rushing back, threatening to engulf her in a wave of memories. She saw glimpses of piercing eyes that held malice, a voice dripping with menace, and a presence that loomed like an ominous shadow.

As she laid her eyes upon the files in front of her, a shiver coursed through her body. The face that stared back at her from the photograph was etched with lines of time. His eyes, once filled with unsettling intensity, now bore the weight of years gone by, their depths guarded and inscrutable.

"Why are you showing me this?" She asked quietly, trying to think of any possible reason why she was forced to recall her past.

"Did you know him?"

With a hesitant pause, she uncrossed her arms. "I did."

"And how did you know him?"

"He—" she stopped, trying to decide how to describe the nature of her relationship with that awful, dreadful man, and finally responded with, "He was my landlord."

"Was that all there is? Was your relationship with him simply one between a landlord and a tenant?"

She met his gaze. "What are you trying to imply?"

"One of our agents visited his wife before this."

Oh.

This was probably why he seemed so guarded, his words laced with a hint of something familiar yet unspoken. She was sure he already knew what happened. It was in the way he carefully chose his phrases, the slight pause that followed, and the knowing glimmer in his eyes that gave it away. But even when the buried memories were fighting to resurface in her head, a sense of unease gripped her. Why was he delving into her past?

"Why are you—" She shook her head. "What does he have to do with the current case?"

There was a pause before Spencer replied, "We believe he might be a link to the investigation."

She narrowed her eyes. "How?"

The room suddenly fell into an uneasy silence, punctuated only by the quiet hum of tension that seemed to hang in the air. Their eyes locked.

"Let's make a deal," he suggested. "If you answer all the questions I have for you, I'll tell you what you want to know."

She considered his words and slowly nodded. "Fine," she agreed. "But you probably know who he was to me if one of your agents had already questioned Mrs. Webb."

"I want to hear it from you."

The weight of her past bore down upon her, pressing against her conscience. She understood, with unwavering certainty, that the time had come to lay bare the chapters of her history that she had kept hidden. With a breath that carried the weight of her past, she finally mustered the courage to speak her truth.

"Harvey and I had an affair."

A subtle change swept across his face as her words hung in the air. His expression remained stoic, a reflection of the knowledge he carried within him. She wasn't sure how much he already knew, but she continued.

"It wasn't my proudest moment," she admitted. "I was young, it was my first time in the city and I got this great apartment at an affordable price. Harvey helped me when I moved in so we talked a lot back then and easily became friends. He eventually mentioned how his divorce had gotten to him very badly, and I... I guess I took pity on him."

"He told you he was divorced?"

"Yeah, he told me the property that he owned, this apartment building of his, was the only asset he got for their divorce settlement. I was too young and naive to even consider he could be lying, I guess I was too smitten by the attention he constantly gave me."

"How long did it happen?"

"A couple of months. It wasn't until he kept on disappearing that I started to suspect him. He said he had to go out of town for his work, but curiosity got the better of me and I decided to follow him one day." She gave him a pointed look. "Turned out he wasn't leaving town, he was going back home to his wife and kids."

"What happened then?"

"I confronted him about it..." Her body shifted uncomfortably. "That was when I realized how messed up he really was."

"What do you mean?"

"Harvey was a manipulative son of a bitch." He raised his eyebrows at her choice of words, which she shrugged in return. There really was no other way to describe him. "It was as if a switch had turned inside him the moment I confronted his lies. He became overbearing, controlling, possessive, and just—he became someone I was very afraid of."

He studied her closely, trying to decipher the unspoken layers of her narrative, the nuances hidden beneath the surface. "Did he ever hurt you?"

“Physically? No—well, there was this one time he got physical when he got so mad, but that was it," she confessed as her past flashed through her mind. "Although mentally, he was draining me. He would often threaten to harm me, or himself, if I ever left him. I think he was also diagnosed with a lot of mental disorders."

"Was his wife aware of everything happening?"

She nodded. "One day I visited their house when he wasn't home and confronted her about everything. Instead of blaming her husband's questionable behavior, she blamed me for ruining their marriage and started calling me a slutty home wrecker."

"Did he find out about this?"

"Yes," she replied. "He was not happy about it."

"And how did you get out of that situation?"

"I got accepted for the current job I work at now."

"He was fine with that?"

"I didn't tell him about it." She looked down, her gaze focusing on her hands sitting in her lap. "I had to move my things secretly whenever he went home to his family. When most of the stuff I needed was secured at my new place, I finally left, changed my number, and never looked back."

"You never saw him again after that?"

"The next time I heard of him was his own obituary printed on the paper." As the weight of her past slipped into the open, exhaustion suddenly settled over her. Her gaze then flickered toward the files on the table. "Now will you tell me how he's linked to the case?"

Spencer’s attention was completely focused on her, analyzing every detail of her movements. He paid close attention to the way she shifted in her seat, the way she blinked, and the way she tilted her head. "Were you aware of how he died?"

"Yes, he... he hurt himself."

Spencer shook his head, the lines on his forehead etched themselves deeper, highlighting the concentration etched upon his features. He leaned forward, his movements deliberate and controlled, as he turned the files over, taking out a few pictures before presenting them in front of her. "We believe his death was a homicide."

"What?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she gazed at the collection of photographs spread out before her. She should be appalled by the amount of blood seen in the shots, but her eyes darted across the blotched writing carved along the bruised skin. "Something was written on his arm?"

"You didn't know?"

"Of course not, why should I know of this?" She glanced up and was taken aback when she noticed the same doubt on his face she saw this morning. Her heart sank as the realization washed over her like a chilling wave. "You're still pining me down as a suspect."

"Your personal connections to all three victims have raised some concerns," he pointed out, voice carrying a controlled intensity, each word measured and deliberate. "And what's even more concerning is that they all had somehow wronged you in the past."

She suddenly felt a surge of anger as he leveled his accusations. Her lips thinned into a tight line, and her eyes narrowed as all her frustration and tension bubbled over. "I had nothing to do with their deaths."

"So it's a coincidence that they all suffered the consequences of their actions that affected you directly?"

"Just because I had issues with them doesn't mean I'd resort to murder," she spat. "Why are you so persistent in painting me as a suspect?"

"Your past grievances with these victims paint the picture." Spencer leaned forward, his palms pressed firmly against the cool surface of the table. His eyes, narrowed with determination, locked onto hers with palpable intensity. "Tell me, do you have an alibi for the times of their deaths?"

She leaned forward and held his gaze, not wanting to back down. "I'm not responsible for any deaths, so no, I don't have an alibi for something I didn't do."

"That's a very vague answer."

"You don't say?" She responded sarcastically. "Are you going to dump me with facts on how my body language is being defensive right now?"

"Would it help you to answer my questions clearly?"

She felt her patience breaking. She had been doing her best to remain calm and collected, but as his gaze remained fixed on her and he continued judging her with that harsh stare, she finally snapped.

"You know what, you want an alibi? I'll give you a damn alibi."

The tension she had been holding in her body suddenly exploded. With every inhale, her chest tightened, a reservoir of pent-up emotions yearning for release. And then, like an unleashed storm, she let it all pour forth.

"According to his obituary, Harvey Webb's death happened on Halloween and that was when I attended this stupid party held at the office. I was in the parking lot when Jamison called for my help before I scurried back only to witness his death. And don't get me started on Kevin Marshall."

She steadied her gaze on him.

"I studied his files for work so I'm aware of the time frame when it happened, and for someone with an eidetic memory, you sure had forgotten where I was that night so let me help you jog your memory back, Doctor Reid, because I spent the night in your bed before you fucking kicked me out the door!"

A heavy silence settled upon them only to be broken by her labored breathing and the pounding of her heart.

Had she really said that?

Y/n was never one with a foul mouth, but with the way the cuss word flew out of her lips in the heat of the moment, it was clear to her how furious she was. Although she did feel a sense of relief as if a huge burden had been lifted off her shoulders after speaking her truth... But at what cost?

The room seemed to hold its breath, suspended in a fragile stillness, as his eyes locked onto hers. The weight of her words settled between them, casting a heavy shadow in the room. And there he sat, frozen in the moment, his face etched with shock and surprise. His mouth opened and closed, but no words emerged, as if the force of her words had momentarily robbed him of his ability to respond.

She wondered what was going through his mind right now. Was he processing her words, attempting to unravel the layers of her frustrations? Or was he grappling with his own emotions, struggling to find the right words to respond?

And suddenly she couldn't take it anymore, feeling an overwhelming sense of exhaustion washing over her. All of the emotions unleashed during her frustrated rant had left her feeling drained. Every fiber of her being ached for respite and seeing him again felt like an additional burden she wasn't ready to bear. So she let her eyes fall on the two-way mirror, focusing in nowhere particular.

"I want to request another agent in here."

She noticed the way his shoulders tensed from the corner of her eyes but decided to ignore it, keeping her gaze on her reflection instead. And just as she was about to accept the fact that nobody was going to listen to her, the sound of the door opening echoed throughout the space, its noise cutting through the silence.

A dark-haired woman stood by the entry, her hand gripping the door as she focused her attention on the only man in the room. "Dr. Reid, I can take it from here."

The weight of the situation suddenly settled him. He studied the woman sitting across from him who was trying to maintain her control. But beneath it all, he saw the cracks in her facade, the vulnerabilities concealed beneath her frustration. It became clear that her actions, though seemingly distant and cold, were rooted in a desperate attempt to protect herself from further hurt.

And he was responsible for it all.

With a heavy sigh, Spencer finally rose from his seat, the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back. His mind was telling him he was only doing his job, yet his heart was pointing out the unfairness of his judgment of her. And for the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do.

"There you are," Emily announced, walking into the meeting room as she spotted Spencer standing by the large board adorned with webs of information, his back facing her. "Are you okay?"

Spencer turned around and regarded her with a sigh. "No."

She gave him a sad smile. "She left already." Then she crossed her arms, studying the way his expression fell at the mention of the woman she had questioned for the past hour. "Do you really think she has anything to do with the case?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head, his shoulders dropping at the revelation of his words. "No."

"Then why were you being so hard on her?"

"I... I don't know."

As her gaze focused on his face, she observed the flash of vulnerability that briefly danced across his features. His eyes darted away, evading direct contact, betraying a flicker of unease that she couldn't ignore.

"I think you do," she noted. "I think you have this logic in your head that if she had something to do with the case, you'd have a reason to stop getting involved with her. But now that you know she's innocent, you think it's too complicated to harbor your feelings after the way you accused her. "

He drew his eyes back to her. "I thought we agreed not to profile each other."

"I wouldn't consider this profiling when you literally have your heart on your sleeves."

He let out a sigh, his voice trembling as he mustered the courage to acknowledge the truth of his actions and the pain he had caused. "What should I do?"

"You're asking the wrong person for relationship advice here," Emily remarked. "But what I do know is that if you wronged someone, you apologize."

But was it enough? Was apologizing to her enough to compensate for the hurt he had put her through?

Guilt has a funny way of coming after the moment has passed, like a relentless pursuer in the shadows of our conscience. Right now it was sneaking up on him, resurfacing with a relentless grip on his emotions. After he left the room, he got inside the small space behind the two-way mirror, continuing his job as an observer instead of the one questioning her.

Hotch had looked at him pointedly when he stepped to his side, and although his boss kept his mouth close the entire time, Spencer knew he was secretly assessing him with judgment. Especially when, after observing Y/n behind the glass, it was clear that she wasn't a suspect. He saw the scars of his misjudgment etched upon her face and the guardedness in her eyes.

It took him as an observer to comprehend she was innocent, that the darkness he had attributed to her was merely a reflection of his misguided assumptions. But it was too late now. He had allowed his biases to cloud his judgment, staining their relationship—or the potential of it anyway—with a hue of mistrust that was now difficult to wash away.

"I don't think she'll ever forgive me," he admitted, feeling dejected.

"Reid, you haven't even tried, and even if she won't, I'm sure you'll find a way to fix it." As the weighty words of their conversation hung in the air, a playful spark suddenly ignited in her eyes. "So."

Her teasing look cut through the tension, catching him off guard. "What?"

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

"She's not my girlfriend," he quickly responded.

"After all that tension between you two and you're still denying it?"

"She's—" he stopped. "I'm not sure what we are, honestly."

Emily let out a soft chuckle. "Well, any type of relationships are complicated. That's why I don't bother with them anymore." Her eyes then shifted behind him, noticing the numbers written on the board that wasn't there the last time she was here. "What do you have there?"

Spencer let out a sigh of relief. Her request to shift the conversation to something else offered him a lifeline, a respite from the vulnerability of delving into his own feelings. A flicker of gratitude flashed in his eyes as he realized that she had unknowingly granted him an escape from his discomfort.

"I did the geographical profiling and these numbers are each respective coordinates of the location where all the victims were found." Emily nodded and he continued, "Basically, I did a coordinate rounding to eliminate the decimals until I come up with two digits for each location."

"And you think these numbers mean something?"

"They must. Here, take a look at this." He motioned her to step closer toward the round table before showing her the map he had drawn over with his handwriting, highlighting three precise locations that formed a triangle. "Even when Harvey Webb wasn't found at his house, he was found at his apartment which was technically his second residence. The same goes for Kevin Marshall, his body was found at home."

Then he pointed at one of the marks located at the top of the map.

"But Jamison Lynch was found at his workplace. The Unsub must have a reason to commit the crime six blocks away from his house."

Emily scanned the map before turning her attention back to the board. "So these numbers represent each location? Eleven is the first victim's residence, ninety-one is the second victim's workplace, and nineteen is the third victim's apartment?"

"Precisely."

"You know," she started, head tilted to the side and eyes piercing onto the numbers presented before her. "The third victim is technically the first victim if you consider the timeline."

As her words lingered in the air, a spark of realization ignited within him. It was as if a puzzle piece he had been searching for had finally fallen into place. "Wait." He walked over and grabbed the marker by the table. "You're right."

Emily watched as he rearranged the line of numbers.

19 91 11

"Does that mean anything to you?"

But Spencer couldn't hear her, his head was already turning its gear as shreds of evidence he had gathered these past few days swarmed his mind. "The Unsub has the same MO in all the victims and they're fixated using verses from the bible so if those numbers have an indication of that conviction then the first two digits could be the number of The Old Testament which means—"

He quickly wrote down his next words.

"Psalm 91:11," Emily read out.

"For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways,"Spencer recited. "That's it—a guardian angel."

Emily's eyes widened as she stared at the revelation before her. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, revealing a connection that had eluded her grasp until now. It was as if a veil had been lifted, granting them to reshape the narrative of the case.

"Y/n isn’t the killer," she mumbled, turning her head towards him. "She's being protected."

He returned her gaze with the same disbelief.

"Someone else is doing it for her."

>> NEXT PART

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[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love strategy p.9

Hi guyss, here's the new part and part 8 if you've missed it, if you want to read this story from the beginning you can find it on my masterlist.

You finally make it back to your hotel room, the weight of the exhausting day pulling at your limbs. The meeting with Carlos and his team had dragged on longer than expected, and every minute of it felt like a punishment. It wasn’t even your place to be there; strategy and data weren’t part of your job. Yet, Carlos had insisted, and you couldn’t say no. But what made it worse was that throughout the entire meeting, Carlos hadn’t stopped looking at you, his eyes searching for something—an explanation, maybe, or an apology that you weren’t giving.

His comments earlier about your professionalism were still fresh in your mind, replaying over and over again, cutting deeper each time. After the meeting ended, he’d tried to talk to you, but you’d left quickly, too angry to face him, still too hurt to have any sort of meaningful conversation. You needed space, and you certainly didn’t owe him anything after what he’d said.

When you enter your hotel room, the exhaustion hits you like a wave. You drop your bag by the door and sigh, letting yourself unwind just a little. Then, something catches your eye—on the small table near the window, a full dinner spread is laid out, neatly arranged with everything you could want. Next to it, there’s a note.

Curious, you pick it up and read:

"Since we couldn’t have dinner together tonight, I thought I’d make sure you didn’t miss out anyway. Enjoy! —Lando"

A warm feeling spreads through your chest as you smile at the thoughtful gesture. It’s exactly what you needed after such a draining evening. You quickly text him.

You: Thank you for dinner! This is just what I needed after that nightmare of a meeting.

You don’t expect him to reply right away—it’s late, and he has a race tomorrow—but to your surprise, your phone buzzes almost immediately.

Lando: Of course! Thought it might cheer you up. How was the meeting? Still mad at Carlos?

You let out a small sigh as you sit down on the bed.

You: Exhausting. I shouldn't have even been there. It was all strategy stuff, not my job. But Carlos wouldn’t stop looking at me, and after his comments earlier… I just left. I couldn’t deal with him after that.

A few seconds later, your phone rings—it’s Lando, FaceTiming you. You hesitate for a moment, but then answer, his face immediately filling the screen, looking more relaxed than you’d expected given his big day tomorrow.

“Hey,” he greets you with a small smile. “Thought you might need more than just a text after that.”

“Hey,” you reply, your voice softening. “Thanks again for the dinner. It was really sweet.”

“Anything for you,” he says, casually, and it makes you smile. “But seriously, what’s up with Carlos? He sounded like a total jerk today.”

You sigh, pushing a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. He’s been… different lately. I just didn’t expect him to say that stuff. It’s like he doesn’t even respect the work I do anymore.”

Lando’s eyes soften as he leans a little closer to the screen. “That’s not true. You’re one of the most professional people I know, and if Carlos can’t see that, that’s on him.”

You chuckle lightly, feeling the weight on your chest ease just a bit. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

He grins, clearly proud of himself for making you feel better. “So, what did you eat? Was it as good as it looked?”

You start describing the meal, exaggerating your appreciation just to make him laugh, and it works. The conversation shifts to lighter topics—random stories, some jokes, and funny anecdotes about his time in the paddock, and soon enough, you’re laughing, forgetting about the stressful day.

After a particularly hilarious story about a prank Lando pulled on Oscar, you find yourself smiling at him, your heart a little lighter. “I swear, you always know how to make me laugh.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he says, flashing that familiar cheeky grin. “You’ve gotta smile before bed—it’s the rule.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway. “Speaking of bed, you have a race tomorrow, mister. You need to sleep and, you know, win.”

He groans playfully. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll go to sleep… but only because you told me to.”

“Good. Now go win tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll try. With you cheering me on, how could I lose?” he teases.

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Goodnight, Lando.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, his smile softening. And with that, the screen goes black as he hangs up, leaving you feeling lighter and more at ease.

You place your phone on the nightstand, lying back on the bed with a small smile still tugging at your lips. Despite everything, Lando always knew how to make things better.

Part 10

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[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 9 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9 (here)

The days when you worked for Lucifer were dull and boring, you saw nothing to gain even though you’re the one doing all the information searching and collecting. You went belong Lucifer’s expectation when you said you’ll infiltrate and plant yourself close to the source so that the information collected was reliable 

Lucifer told you directly that he expected for you to just listen and gather what rumors were around and tell him, or what information was available then you report to Lucifer in a neat pile. Never did he think you’ll go above and beyond, considering your mood and status of wanting to get yourself a second death

Well, you didn’t really mind it all. Back when you were writing your novel, you had a ton of characters, each with different backgrounds and personality. You tried just researching online to get the information, but there wasn’t that feeling when you were writing them. You needed to get the feel of it. So you actually tried out part-time jobs from all over the place to get it

Turns out it worked since even a copy of the novel got such fame and wealth…

Now, you realized you didn’t need to create something for you to know what you have. With your new power, you seem to have something akin to photographic memory to the point you’ll be able to keep what you see and know like a compute file system. Very convenient and steal-proof

Your main target happened to be Vox, the TV Demon and an Overlord that is acquainted and in alliance with another two Overlords Velvette and Valentino. Lucifer requires newer information of the modern Overlords, so you went to the V Tower to sneak within their ranks

That was before your charm abilities from your pages developed to what you have today, so Lucifer gave you an entirely new look and some common powers so you didn’t make an impression on Vox or the other two Overlords

It was through Vox that you learned of Alastor as well. While you never saw him, you heard plenty from Vox to know they weren’t overly fond of the other. Alastor seem to tolerate Vox and didn’t even see Vox as a treat since it was all so childish from on outlooker’s perspective

But what you learned from within was even worse. Vox was controlling, very controlling. He not only hypnotizes the customer and reporters to boost his fame and gain loyalty, he treats his employee the same and than some. His people were treated as slaves, dehumanized, and worse than animals. All for Vox’s entertainment

“Don’t.” You firmly declined, “Let’s just get on with it.”

“Wow, you’re really into all that redemption thing? Goody-two-shoes huh.” Vox smirked condescending, “Can I get your name or?”

You glared, feeling the shadows riled up by the second, you back up away from Vox. “No. This is strictly business. I hope we don’t see each other after this.”

“Hot and feisty. I like that in a demon. Let’s see how you’re at persuasion.” He turned to the lift and gestures for you to follow him. “Well, come on then, representative.”

Throughout the entire time Vox was bringing you to the ‘meeting room’, he had been so annoying with his small talk. There were a few times he tried hypnotizing you already but you acted like nothing happened, it was fun to see him try

You declined any drinks and food he offered, he set them on the coffee table between the two couches you two were sitting on. This setting was quite perfect for him to try a more direct hypnotizes, even if you were to accuse him of so, he can say it was a glitch in the system or it’s just his screen acting up

Everything was set to give himself the advantage he needs and wants

As expected the only thing he had against the hotel and Charlie was the fact that his merchandise were all destroyed without his knowledge. Though he even come clean as to why he would be aware of they were gone or not, he lied and said it was to ensure his services were top-notch and that he could send his employees to repair or replace them with new ones

Why he was doing this was to show his appreciation to the epic battle Charlie and the hotel put up. To defend all of Hell and the other sinners even when no one asked, to give everyone hope that there was good in this hellhole. It moved Vox’s metallic heart beyond words

Such flattery. You know information that Vox tried to watch the battle, you panicked when you wonder if Vox saw your powers when you defended and saved Alastor. It doesn’t seem like he knows by the annoyance and degree he went to ensure the hotel was under surveillance. He’s finding that one demon that interrupted his show. He’s looking for you

To compensate, the hotel is to either send someone to work for Vox, of course without a soul contract but a business deal only, or give them Angel. What it means was that Angel was to stay at the V Tower for as long as it take for him to individually produce all the cost of the materials used to make the devices Vox installed in the hotel

It was basically a contract that would ensure that Angel doesn’t get redeemed, stays under the Vees’ or rather Valentino’s hold, and continues to bring profit or even more to the three Overlords. You heard that Angel’s boss was Valentino, you also heard about the little stunt Angel did to his boss outside of the studio. Valentino sworn revenge. This was it

When you weren’t agreeing immediately, you were in for a shock when Valentino and Angel appeared through the doors. They took a seat in the couch between yours and Vox’s, Angel forcefully gapped between Vox and Valentino so that if anything happened, they’d have a hostage. Because unlike them, the hotel and its people are oh so very kind

“Angel here volunteers to work on top of our contract on this little mishap.” Valentino grinned, playing with his pipe as he released a puff of red smoke. “Angel came all on his own too.”

“Then why isn’t he speaking on his own?” You challenged, it’d take a blind person to ignore the nervousness and uneasiness Angel was displaying. From what you observed, Angel truly likes it at the hotel. He wouldn’t willingly leave it and everyone. “Why are you speaking in his place?”

Vox raised a hand, answering as if it was all rehearsed. “Val is Angel’s boss, so it only makes sense he speaks on Angel’s behalf on something so important.”

Your eyes narrowed, “You got it backwards. On matters as important as this, the one directly involved should be the one talking.” You glared at Valentino, “Not to be spoken on behalf by.”

Vox laughed, “You forget. You’re at our mercy now, we don’t need to care for your wants.” He got up and strolled over to you, “You know, you’re quite talented. We could use someone like you here. If you agree to take Angel’s place, then Angel can go free from this deal. I’m sure with your talent, you can make up that number in no time.”

“That wasn’t what you offered.” You hissed, you could feel Alastor growing rage as well. 

“Oh, need more incentive?” Vox smirked.

The moment he said that, the doors opened and revealed Velvette though it was what was dragged behind that caught you off guard. Husk, all beaten up and bantered, was being pulled into the room by some hellhounds that was in servitude to Velvette, or maybe the Vees. 

Velvette gave a cunning grin, “You called?”

This was obviously a bad situation. Two hostages and three Overlords, one of them were in the worse pairing possible as well. This was all a trap

There was a high possibility that Angel didn’t want to answer Valentino’s calls and was dragged to the V Tower where he’s be powerless. Husk most possibly saw what happened and tried to stop it since you were going to the same place later on

In the end, two were caught and used as leverage to convince you into servitude of Vox. Maybe you shouldn’t have came, but you didn’t want them to get hypnotized again and this was their domain so Vox holds more power here

You’ll admit, you’re cornered. Do you call for Alastor? But Alastor couldn’t care less about Angel or Husk went you were on the line. He’d even agree with the deal Vox offered just because you would be out of harm’s way. You just know Alastor will do that. While he cares for your decision, but when it was your time away from him on the line, he’ll do anything to keep you within his hold

In that case, you’re left with one option

“You want compensation for your broken devices, yeah, I can handle it. But I will not be working here.” You spoke firmly, “The hotel has a 16 floors, each floor has around 10 rooms, each room has a VoxTech TV and a pair of speakers that were installed, in total that’s 160 TVs and 320 speakers. The lobby has a large screen made of 6 TVs and 8 pairs of speakers to provide high quality sound transperance, the top floor has a cinema that is made with 10 TVs and 10 pairs of speakers aligning the walls.”

As you were listing, everyone was surprised with how well you knew everything. Especially Angel and Husk since you were rarely out of your room or around. How you knew all this was a mystery to them.

“So in total, you require the compensation of 176 TVs and 356 speakers. I can provide all of them back to you in the newest condition, but I will not be working here.” You concluded.

“Wow, crazy math, but how can we be sure you can give us high quality goods?” Vox questioned, “We can’t trust that you’ll leave us high and dry after we agree. You can even give us cheap knockouts like some copycat off the streets.”

You opened your hand, “Give me something, anything.”

The Vees all looked at each other, then Valentino passed a gun of his to you. They eyed you suspicously while you plainly inspected the object, Angel and Husk watched in confusion of what you were doing

You ignored all the stared. This was your last result. You’ll show them your power and ability with a page, they wouldn’t know how you did it and they wouldn’t be able to control you since you have Alastor’s protection and you could always put Lucifer on the table. They wouldn’t dare touch a servant of the King of Hell

Your fingers brushed through the curves and texture, feeling where the edges were and how they felt. Then you began taking it apart. Vox kept Valentino in place when you began, Vox keeping an extra close eye on what you were doing. You laid out the parts in front of you, then you inspected each part like how you did to the gun as a whole

When you were done, you reassembled it all. You quickly aimed a shot into the wall behind you so they wouldn’t say you attempted assassination to add compensation. You got the gist of what was used to make it and how it was made. You remember the parts and you remember how to assemble and take it apart. The conditions are set. You can do it

You moved away your oversized coat and took out your book, writing the words ‘Valentino’s gun’ on the page before tearing it out and blew on it. Then in your hand appeared the exact same. You gave to Valentino to inspect them

He was surprised his gun was replicated to perfection. He didn’t mean to say it since he was shocked and covered his mouth

That’s all you need to hear. You took Angel and Husk to your side, telling Vox, without giving him the room to deject your offer. You will reproduce those TVs and speakers, Vox just need to wait patiently and you can have it done within a few days. Someone will come delivery them. End of story

“It’s you! Hahahaha! So it’s you all along!” Vox laughed, falling back down into the couch, “You win this! So you’re not bad at persuasion too.” He grinned, “Now I really like you.” 

“Well, I still don’t like you.” You snarled. 

“Playing hard to get, huh.” He waved his hand, “Sure, I’ll wait and see. If it’s not delivered in time, I’ll expect you to work for me.”

As quickly as you came to the bright studio that blinds your eyes, you left with Angel and Husk hand in hand just in case they tried something. The moment you were out of the building, Alastor reappeared and hugged the living daylights out of you, you returned the hug, melting into his hold

It was such a scary experience, but you know you got through it because Alastor was watching and listening all that time to support you

Alastor sent Husk and Angel back through the shadows to retell the message of a smooth negotiation and nothing else. They were to have the cover story of meeting you and Alastor on the way back and to pass the message along while the two of you enjoyed a stroll for the hardwork. Needless to say they agreed easily to that plan

You walked with Alastor arm in arm, leaning against him for a more physical support. You closed your eyes to rest a bit since it was way too bright in the studio and you trust Alastor enough to lead you on the right and safe path

Being the radio host he is, he talked and talked about anything and everything he could to fill the silence and give you the perfect voice to listen to. At the sight of Alastor, a number of demons left the area and stayed clear of him

Everything was very peaceful, just you and him strolling down the streets. It reminded the two of you during those days when you both were in your home area. You’d sometimes want to just stretch your legs and walk around. Alastor would accompany you to keep you safe

In the beginning, it was just you and your music while Alastor was busy with whatever bloody methods to keep the demons’ eyes off of you. Then you and Alastor made small talk so Alastor’s attention wasn’t on destroying some poor demon that was minding their own business. Turns out, that was one of moments that got you to see another side of Alastor

You smiled as you hugged onto Alastor’s arm, you felt Alastor’s miniature jerk before he relaxed again. You really wanted to tickle him, but you’ll save it for when you two are back behind closed doors to have more fun

“You! You in the giant stupid coat! Stop!” A voice shouted behind you and Alastor. 

Alastor looked down to you, you nodded as you opened your eyes again. Alastor turned around, shielding you from the unknown demon’s sight. “What is it that you need from us?”

“I’m not talking to you, f**ker!” The demon exclaimed at Alastor, “Move aside or else.”

“Else?” Alastor’s head tilted to the side with his smile growing to a threatening grin, “Quite bold of you to assume you have a chance here.”

You peeked from behind Alastor, this demon was unfamiliar to you, not someone you messed with nor did you gather information on them for anything in discriminating. You wonder if you should let Alastor have at her since you already dealt with Vox today. But something bugged you with how desperate she was acting, very familiar. So you stepped out, “What is it?”

Her eyes seemingly light up and came over to you, gripping onto your shoulders tightly with that crazed look in her eyes. “You’re the one he wants. It was never me. Whatever he wants with you has nothing to do with me. It was all a lie. The contract, the flattery, the money, everything!”

“Huh?” You glanced over to Alastor with confusion, Alastor didn’t return the sentiment as he looked ready to rip the demon apart. “Uh, what do you mean?”

“I saw your powers over the pages, you’re the one he wants! I don’t know how we have similar powers, but yours is much more superior. Trade places with me, I’m begging! I can’t work for Vox!”

You backed up and slapped away her hands, retreating back to Alastor’s side. “Similar powers?”

You wondered if it was her, that friend of yours. You watched she continued to rant on about the benefits of working for Vox like she prepared to pitch it to a customer. This desperate plead was like her asking (demanding) that you continue writing that novel she stole so she can go publish it in her name

Do it in the name of friendship, she said. It started small, she asked for some tips to writing, it moved to asking for character reference sheets, then ideas on a sequel, last was your help to write the entire thing

She knew you have written it beforehand, she was aiming for that in the beginning. Again, she stole it while you were distracted with setting up a sleepover for her. You remember that empty look you had when you saw the barely closed front door, the pillow you were hugging fell from your grasp

The next week or so, the sequel to her (your) novel was out. Millions and billions of people flooded the bookshops, mass sell out signs for that book was taped to the display for the novel. She came back and praised you for a job well done, you hanged out with you and shared so much with you

All that time, you smiled and enjoyed the peace. Anything to help a friend, you innocently spoke. After all, she was there for you when you broke up with your boyfriend. She was your closest friend, things like these happen. See? She’s back at your side

She appeared on TV, she appeared on podcast, she appeared in interviews, she appeared in best selling author signing sessions, she appeared as a professor to teach young aspiring writers. She was everywhere. That was because the novel was everywhere, it was adatped into movies, TV shows, cartoon series, it has audiobooks and was references in a number of places

People loved your work. You were content with that. It was fine. As long as your friend is by your side. You can take it all. Yet you can’t help it when tears flow down your face in the dead of night. You hugged your pillow so tightly

It was all supposed to be yours, yet it wasn’t… You gave it all up to someone that’s not worthy of it

“See?” She threw a bunch of papers into the air from her side bag, with a snap of her fingers, the pages turned into paper daggers and flew around her at command. “If you can summon things, then you’re a such better fit! Please, come back with me to the V Tower and take my place.”

“Shut up.” You spoke, your hands unconsciously gripped onto Alastor’s wrist tightly that it could have snapped. Reacting to your obvious hatred, Alastor snapped his fingers and fires burn down the pages that she was so proud of. “Ha, I can’t believe you haven’t changed.”

She raised a brow, “What?”

You sighed, “Karolina, so you died, huh. Did you have a good life? Must be good as the famous author, right?”

Kat’s eyes widened, now it was her turn to back up, “No way… You can’t be serious…”

“Dearest, do you know her?” Alastor inquired with a cute head tilt, his ears moving along. 

“Yeah, I know her.” You smiled, you know what will happen after your words because you know Alastor, “Meet Karoline, my former best friend while I was alive, but most importantly… The one that stole my precious writing.”

Note: Another one~ There's one more part to this and the involvement of Kat arc is done. I think I might end this series after that. The unanswered questions could be counted as trivia or extra mini moments. Cause I feel like this series is getting a bit too long. What do you guys think?

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: (those that don't specify to being in all the works' taglist will automatically be assumed to be in whichever series they comment on)

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka @lucifers-silhouette @an-idyllic-novelist @cyannese-rose @type-ink

[entitled-fangirl]

Miller baby.

Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: the reader goes into labor.

Warnings: pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff

Masterlist

..............................................................

Any day now.

Their sweet Miller baby was due at any point. 

Joel wasn't sure about all of it at the beginning, but as he saw Y/N swell by the day with his child, he became more open to the idea. 

Especially after Sarah's reaction when they told her the news:

"OH MY GOD, I'M GETTING A SISTER?" She yelled in the living room.

"OR a brother," Joel reasoned, "Can't say for sure yet."

"It's a girl, though." Sarah nodded, "I can feel it."

He laughed, "You can't feel nothin'."

…

Now the due date was approaching. 5 more days. Y/N was settled on the couch, breathing heavy, as she had been doing the entire week before as well. While she had intended to wait on Joel's arrival from work, the call to sleep had become too strong and won her over. 

Joel entered the house, setting his bag down rougher than he meant to. He threw his keys on the table by the door and shrugged off his jacket.

Expecting Y/N to have greeted him at this point, his eyes finally started to take in the room.

She was fast asleep at this point.

He smiled, cursing himself for being loud before. 

He quietly shrugged off his shoes and tiptoed to the couch where she laid. 

She glowed, even asleep at 9 months pregnant. 

He couldn't help running his fingers out her forehead softly to push the hair from her face.

Her eyes opened softly at the feeling.

"J…Joel?" She asked groggily.

His smile brightened.

"Hi, darlin'." 

She sits up and rubs her eyes, "When did you get home?"

"Just now. Don't worry." He rubs her thigh gently.

She nods and swings her legs to the side of the couch.

Joel's eyebrows furrowed, "What are ya doing, hon?"

"I'm gonna get up and make dinner." She says like it's a normal thought.

He laughs, "The hell you are!"

She's taken back by his tone, "W…what?"

"Oh, hon. I'm sorry." He cups her face, "I was teasing. I don't want you getting up and around like that just on account of me. I can make dinner."

She shakes her head, "But Sar-"

"Sarah will be fine." He reasoned, "She's staying at a friend's house tonight."

"Oh," she relaxed. "Okay. Well, you've worked hard today, so I'll-"

"Hey," he grabbed her hands gently. "Hey. Just…. Stay there. I'm not gonna let you."

Her face dropped, "Why not?"

Joel smiled sweetly, "Sweetheart, I've got it. You relax. I'm making dinner."

She nodded, "Okay, but I need to get up, anyway." 

He nods and grabs her arm to help her up. 

She lets out a little grunt and her eyes close in pain.

"Hon?" He asked, worriedly, "You hurtin'?"

She sighs and nods her head, "'m fine."

"Contraction?" He asked.

She nods.

"How far apart, darlin'? Talk to me." He says, pulling her close on the couch.

"I don't know, Joel," she says. "Maybe… six minutes?"

"SIX?" He yells, "Jesus. C'mon. We're going to the hospital."

She immediately pauses and breaks out a sob.

His face softens, "Oh." His voice sweetens, "Oh, darlin'. What… what's going on?"

"I.. I CAN'T DO THIS!" She sobbed.

"Sweet girl, c'mon." He sighed, rubbing her stomach softly. "You can do this. You're gonna be a great mother. You already are with Sarah."

"I love Sarah," she whines through the tears. "I just can't do this."

"Well, that's the only way we can get the baby here."

She sniffles, "I'm not strong enough to do this, Joel."

He smiles, "Darlin'. We'll just take you to the hospital. They know what they're doing."

She wipes her tears and nods, "Okay… okay."

"Alright. I'll grab the bag, you just get in the car."

…

"You're doing it. Good girl. You're doing so good." Joel sighed in her hair.

"Alright. Now push." The doctor said.

It felt like her body was being ripped in two. But at least the baby would be here when she was done. That was what she was telling herself. 

Joel brushed her sweaty hair from her forehead. "Almost there, darlin."

The sound of a baby crying relieved the both of them. 

"A healthy baby boy."

Y/N smiled sleepily. Joel felt his breath leave his lungs.

"He has your hair, Joel." Y/N smiled at the sight of the baby.

"You've made the prettiest boy, darlin'."

"We did."

"Yeah, we did."

…

Sarah had to refrain from screaming in joy at the sight of her new baby sibling.

"Oh. My. God." She whisper yelled.

Joel helped Y/N further into the house. "C'mon. Let's sit you down."

She slowly sat on the couch and grunted.

Sarah ran to Joel, who had the baby carry on his arm. "He's really ours?!"

Joel laughed, "Yeah, he's ours."

"I'm gonna be the BEST older sister, I promise!" 

Y/N laughed next. "Wanna go change his diaper?"

Sarah's face dropped, "Nevermind. I'm good. I'll just be mediocre." And she ran from the room.

Joel couldn't hold in his laugh as he set the carrier down. "You sleep. I'll take the baby."

Y/N smiled, "Thank you Joel."

He sat on the couch next to her. "'Course. I knew you could do this."

She sighed and closed her eyes, "I love you, Joel."

"I love you, darlin'."

.......................................................

[blackbat05]

The Gall of HeR!

Evan Buckley x Reader (Gender not Specified)

Plot: You come back home feeling blue from work. Luckily, Buck is there to lend you some support.

Genre: PG-13

A/N: New character! Only started watching 9-1-1 last year but wasn’t in the best back then. It’s been such a huge support to get where I am today so it’s only appropriate to do this! Also I can’t deny this is based on actual experience recently so this is my way of therapy😂 In all seriousness, note to self to always fight for myself because no one will do it for me.

“Hey! I’m home!”

Buck pads out of the kitchen in his “kiss the cook apron” that Eddie gave him as a Christmas Present last year as a joke.

“How’s work?”

I sigh, putting my bag to one side before unceremoniously dumping myself on the couch. “It was good, and then it was bad. Do I make sense?” My nose crinkles in confusion and I at that point I wished that my brain would stop running at a hundred miles per hour. Though, a part of me really needed to vent my feelings in a safe space. Buck was my safe space.

“They approached me for a possible promotion at the Library.” I start and Buck’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, that was my reaction. Inside. I didn’t expect this at all.”

Buck comes to sit beside me on the couch, body angled to face me fully. I take a deep breath and proceeded to explain how I had to ground myself first, to hear more details from HR before committing to that decision.

“So, I had that first meeting with Esther and obviously I needed time to process right? I didn’t understand some points that were raised and I wanted to clarify with her what some things meant to I called a second meeting the next day.” I explained. “The second meeting goes fine. It mostly involved her clarifying my doubts. Then after the meeting, she sends me an email noting all the things we discussed, and guess what?” I find the rage in the pit of my stomach bubbling.

“She adds in the extra clause that initially, they thought of reverting me back into my original position if things didn’t work out. But after considering the company’s position, if I did not perform or if I decided not to continue, I would have to leave the company!” My voice gets higher with each passing second. Buck reaches out to grab my hand, a soothing reminder that I was not in the library reading that darned email but I was here, with him.

“And then, Esther had the gall to storm into the library and yell at me what I meant when I sent that email and now she’s in trouble with the higher ups! My fault? How is expressing my opinions in a professional manner my fault?”

I finish off telling Buck that I wasn’t afraid of taking on the challenge. But my biggest issue was only being informed of this only after my second meeting and when I bought up the possibility of not taking on the role to her.

“Wow.” Buck purses his lips. I look at him reproachfully.

“You think I’m acting up too.”

“No. I think you’re standing up for yourself. No matter what others may say or think. It’s good that you question everything that’s being presented to you least you be taken advantaged.”

“Even if it means they might pass me up on this because they think I’m such a prima donna?”

Buck laughs. “In all seriousness. There are more ways to grow than besides promotions at work. You’re growing as a person and that’s more important. Do what you want to do and always do it for yourself.”

You don’t know what you did to deserve this man in this lifetime. Someone who supported you no matter what. That’s what you really needed right now.

“Thanks Buck,” you threw yourself into him for a hug. “I think I really needed to hear that. After all those times of doubting myself, I really needed to hear it.”

“Hey, you know I’m always your biggest supporter. Now let’s go and have dinner. Bobby taught me how to make this lasagna and we are not about to let it get cold.”

“Gosh, what would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to know.”

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 31)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Birth, Complications

Moments later, Cillian joined the others in the dining room and, after you were finished feeding Mara, you followed suit.

Everyone sat down at the table, exchanging polite greetings and small talk. Your mother was still upset, but she refrained from saying anything more hurtful. Instead, she focused on making pleasant conversation with Siobhan and Cillian's other sister Sian. 

As time progressed, Cillian's mother rose from her seat, carrying a steaming dish to serve everyone. "Dig in, everyone!" she encouraged, gesturing at the array of delicious food. "We can all eat now," she announced cheerfully.

"Siobhan, why don't you start passing out these plates?" she suggested, handing a stack of dishes to her daughter. Siobhan obliged, distributing the food among the guests. The aroma wafted enticingly through the air, tantalizing their senses and drawing their attention to the feast laid out before them.

"This smells amazing, mum," Cillian praised, serving himself generous portions of the delectable dishes. "You've outdone yourself once again," he complimented sincerely, watching his mother beam proudly.

"Thank you, Cillian," she murmured appreciatively while Frank rolled his eyes for reasons unclear to you. 

Cillian and Frank then shared another round of heated glares, their tension escalating with each passing moment. Neither one of them uttered a word to one another, but their body language spoke volumes. Their rigid postures and clenched jaws hinted at the animosity brewing beneath the surface.

"Would anyone like some wine?" Cillian's mother asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence, causing Cillian to nod. 

"Are you alright?" she then added worriedly, her gaze darting between Cillian and Frank.

"Of course," Cillian assured her, forcing a tight-lipped grin. "Just tired," he lied smoothly, reaching for his glass of wine. 

"Well, babies do that to you, Cillian," his mother laughed kindly, patting the hand he rested on the table. "You need to pace yourself because it will get worse," she then chuckled, her gaze flitting between him and you.

"We will," you promised, meeting her sympathetic gaze. "We seem to be working well as a team so far," you added, attempting to lighten the mood.

Cillian nodded, flashing a brief smile before returning to his meal. The group fell silent, each member consumed by their own thoughts as they savored the scrumptious food. The air buzzed with an undercurrent of tension, but the palatable dishes successfully managed to divert their attention from the simmering hostility.

Despite the occasional strained laughter and forced smiles, it proved somewhat challenging to maintain a cohesive conversation and, at around 9 o'clock, after a few more glasses of wine, Cillian's mother called it a day.

"I think I should get some rest before tomorrow," she said, yawning widely before she left the dining room and, as soon as she did, your mother and Frank looked at each other, rose from their seats and disappeared into separate rooms without saying a single word, leaving you, Cillian, Siobhan and Sian sitting there awkwardly.

"Don't worry," Siobhan tried to console you, her hand squeezing your arm comfortingly. "Tomorrow will be better," she then smiled encouragingly, causing Cillian to shake his head in disbelieve.

"This is ridiculous," he groaned, rubbing his temples. "I didn't expect that we would have to deal with such nonsense when we came here," he lamented before walking towards the living room in order to confront them both.

"They are behaving like children," he said, his jaw muscles bulging visibly. "Frank especially," he then added bitterly while Siobhan and Sian exchanged knowing glances.

"Just give them some time to process this Cillian," Siobhan reasoned patiently though Cillian merely shrugged in reply.

"They had nine months to process this," he argued stubbornly, crossing his arms defiantly. 

"I understand, Cillian," Siobhan consoled sympathetically, her tone gentle and understanding. "You're frustrated right now--"

"I'm beyond frustrated," he cut her off impatiently, his brows furrowing in agitation before barging off to find them.

"You'll only provoke them," Siobhan called after him, her words falling on deaf ears.

Sian sighed heavily, shaking her head in exasperation. "Why does everything involve drama in our family?" she moaned despondently, casting a sorrowful glance at you.

"Fuck, I feel like I am at fault," you sighed, biting your lip nervously. "If I hadn't gotten involved with Cillian in the first place, none of this would have happened," you lamented, staring blankly at the empty wine glass on the table.

"Y/N," Siobhan said to you, patting your hand. "We all do dumb things sometimes, especially when we are in love," she assured you fiercely, her unwavering gaze conveying a certainty that suprised you.

"I am not in love with him," you lied, your voice trembling slightly. "It was a short-lived and stupid little fling," you dismissed it, biting your lip nervously. "We weren't really serious about it," you insisted, although the truth was much different. 

"Sure, if this is what you want to tell yourself," Siobhan replied, offering you a comforting smile. "But, in any event, what I am saying is that you aren't responsible for other people's reactions or behavior," she emphasized, her gaze lingering on you thoughtfully. "Cillian and you seem to be happy enough with whatever arrangements you have in place so your mother and Frank will just need to let it go and deal with it," she concluded resolutely, her voice firm and unwavering.

You sighed heavily, mulling over her words carefully. She made sense, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for inadvertently causing turmoil within Cillian's family. 

"You are right," you admitted reluctantly, your voice barely audible. "Cillian and I are content with our arrangement and if my mum doesn't want anything to do with her grandchild then that's her loss," you determined, swallowing thickly.

"Exactly," Siobhan agreed wholeheartedly, her gaze locking onto yours just as Cillian appeared again, sighing heavily.

"I give up," he muttered, throwing his hands into the air dramatically.

"I told you there was no point talking with Frank when he gets like this," Sian reminded him, watching him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, he's got to learn that the relationship between Y/N and myself is not his business," Cillian growled, shaking his head in frustration. "He can't control everyone's life," he added before barging upstairs. 

Cillian was visibly upset, his anger and irritation plainly evident in his tense posture and stormy gaze. You watched him disappear upstairs, his footsteps echoing loudly against the hardwood floors.

"I will be back," you told the sisters before following Cillian and, as you approached the bedroom in which Mara had been sleeping, you could hear Cillian speaking softly to your Babygirl. 

"Shh, it's okay my perfect little girl," he cooed, his voice low and soothing. "Let's just get that nappy changed, shall we?" he told her, seeing that, clearly, it was this time of the night for her. 

"Do you want me to do this?" you asked quietly as you opened the door of the bedroom, observing Cillian cradling Mara lovingly.

"No, I've got it," he replied, looking up at you briefly before tenderly laying Mara down on the changing table. "I actually enjoy this part," he explained, his voice soft and soothing. You watched him closely, admiring how adeptly he navigated the task.

"Really? You enjoy changing dirty nappies?" you queried skeptically, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Really," he confirmed, his lips quirking upward in amusement. "I mean, it's something I can do, you know. She won't let me bottle feed her and she most certainly won't go to sleep for me anymore," he then explained, chuckling slightly. "She prefers you to do it," he continued, grinning broadly at you.

"Well, I do have the mother's touch," you winked while Cillian disposed of the used diaper into the bin, before he grabbed a fresh one and placed it on the changing mat.

"Or maybe you're just naturally gifted Y/N. You are amazing with her," Cillian said honestly while putting a new nappy on to her and taping it securely before he lifted her up in his arms. "Ready for mommy to feed you again?" he then asked your baby sweetly while she gurgled happily and kicked her legs in excitement.

You took her out of his hands, kissing her forehead affectionately before responding to Cillian. "I guess the only real difference is that I have got the goodies and you don't," you joked lightly, watching him chuckle softly.

"You are perfect with her Cillian and you are most certainly perfect with me these days," you admitted quietly, feeling Cillian's gaze lock onto yours. 

"If I was really that perfect, then I wouldn't have made you come here with me," he retorted, his gaze flickering across your face. "I mean, with the way Sarah and Frank are acting, this is far from ideal and I am sorry for making you come. You deserve to be treated so much better," Cillian apologized, his gaze boring into yours.

"Cillian, you didn't make me come here," you countered, your gaze flickering across his face. "I chose to come with you, remember? It wasn't an obligation," you pointed out, watching him consider your words.

"You are something else, you know that?" Cillian murmured, his voice hushed and filled with emotion. "And I think that l am actually in love with you, Y/N."

You paused, studying him intently. His confession caught you off guard, his words painting a vivid image of his inner turmoil. "Cillian," you breathed, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. "I think I may be in love with you too," you confessed hesitantly, blushing profusely.

His breath hitched sharply, his gaze locked onto yours. "Really?" he gasped, his eyes widening in surprise.

"I have been for a while but things were just too difficult between us. You then met Amanda and dated her for a while and I figured that my feelings for you were unrequited so I tried to ignore them,” you confessed, blushing deeply. "I never expected that things would change," you added, squirming uncomfortably.

"Things have definitely changed," Cillian agreed, his gaze burning with intensity. "Or maybe they haven't, and I was just trying too hard to ignore how I felt as well," he sighed wistfully, reaching out to cup your cheek affectionately.

"So, what are we going to do now then?” you asked cautiously, your gaze fluttering across Cillian's face. 

"Well, we could work things out. We could be a proper family, move in together and give this relationship a shot," Cillian murmured, his words stirring a warm flush in your veins. "You, me, Mara and, occasionally, Max," he added, his gaze piercing into yours. 

"You know what? That sounds absolutely wonderful," you exhaled, smiling brightly. "I want that, Cillian," you confessed fervently, your voice trembling slightly just as Cillian finally leaned in and captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

To be continued...

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[giggly-squiggily]

Hide and Tickle (Bungo Stray Dogs)

*Flips hair, knocking over several things* Why hello there.

So! Y'all might remember this little dabble I wrote a while back; I said in the description that I wanted to make this a proper fic eventually.

And then 2022 and 2023 passed by like two ships into the night...

SO HERE WE ARE! :D I will admit- I was a bit lazy and put the sentence starter dabble as the opener- so this is more an extended version of that! I hope you like it! :3

This is also part 1 of a series I'm making! I have the perfect request to follow this one up, so stay tuned (hopefully this time I'll be before the end of the year lols)

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @dirtpie39 @duckymcdoorknob @cupcake-spice13 @t-wordiiish @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart

“I’m so boooooooooorrrreeeeed~” Dazai droned from his desk, eyes half-lidded with disinterest as he looked at the stack of paperwork before him. “Kuuuuni~ Aaaaatsushhhhhhi~ Entertain me!”

“Do your work. That should keep you entertained for a while.” Kunikida didn’t look up from his computer, unfazed by the brunette’s whining. “And sit up straight while you’re at it. You’re at work, not home.”

“But isn’t the armed detective agency our second home?” Dazai fluttered his eyelashes at them, pouting when neither paid him any mind. “I see how it is. I’m like the unwanted stray hoarded up in the family garage, living off scraps from the trash.”

“Did-did you just call yourself a raccoon?” Atsushi blinked, looking at Dazai. He fell right for his trap.

“Atsushi! You’ve noticed me!” Rolling over in his chair, he unceremoniously tossed his arms around the younger man, leaning on him with nearly all his weight. “Take me home and feed me delicious food!”

“I do have a spar futon…”

“Don’t entertain him!” Kunikida growled, giving up on his report as he slammed his laptop shut. “Fine, you want to play a game? Let’s play. You get ten seconds to hide.”

“Mr. Kunikida?” Atsushi blinked. Dazai seemed equally curious.

“What-”

“If we catch you,” Kunikida referred to himself and Atsushi, earning even more surprise from the weretiger. “You’re getting tickled. Is that clear?”

…Huh? No way Kunikida was suggesting that! Atsushi turned to Dazai, expecting some sort of coy reply or teasing remark.

Instead, he found nothing but air.

“Did he-” Atsushi blinked, watching as Kunikida took his seat once more, opening his laptop.

“That’ll keep him busy for a while. You’re relieved of your duties until my reports are finished.” The blonde jerked his chin to the office plant, Dazai’s foot sticking out comically. “See to it that idiot stays entertained.”

Atsushi looked between him and Dazai, the brunette subtly poking his face through the greenery to spy. Then he laughed, getting up with a nod.

“Be sure to type extra slow. Come here, Dazai!” Atsushi took off, charging the startled office plant full speed ahead. Dazai yelped as he dived, flying around the corner and sending the plant spinning. Atsushi’s quick reflexes saved them from the mess.

“Don’t make a mess!” Kunikida called after them, but his voice was muted at the noise. Dazai was sprinting between desks, putting as much distance as he could between him and Atsushi while giggling like a loon.

“Stahahay away! I’m nohohohoht reahahady!” Dazai wheezed, holding his hands up as he backed around Ranpo’s desk, the mentioned man eating snacks as he watched. “Ahahhahahtsushi!”

“Why so nervous? Running out of hiding spots?” The weretiger grinned, feigning left and right to throw off his boss. In the background, he could hear Naomi and Tanizaki giggling to themselves, amused.

“Quick, go left!” Naomi called out.

“No, right- go right!” Tanizaki added.

“Who are you two even talking to right now?” Dazai yelped, backing up towards the door as Atushi feigned a lunge forward. “Ahahahtsushi…”

“Coming around.” Yasano spoke from behind, her hands coming to his sides as she scooted. In that second, she pressed in sharply.

“EEHEE!” Dazai yelped, stumbling forward at the unexpected tickle. Right into Atsushi’s trap card.

“Thanks, Yasano!” The weretiger cheered as he quickly wrestled Dazai to the ground, quickly pinning his arms. “Mr. Kunikida-”

“On it.” The blonde was there in seconds, sitting on Dazai’s waist and rolling up his sleeves. “Not much luck hiding, was there?”

“Ahehehehehe, hehehehehahahha! Coohohme on- wahhahait! Thihihihs isn’t the mohohohost cohohoohmfortahhahable flohohoor!” Dazai giggled out his pleas, squirming some as he looked up with big eyes. “Spahahhare me?”

“Mr. Kunikida?” Atsushi asked, turning his attention to the other man.

“Hmm..” The blonde hummed, thinking. Dazai tried to smile.

“Get him.” He decided. Massive fail!

“Ehehehehhahahahaha! Whahahahit, wahhahahait pleahahhahahhahahse!” Dazai burst into giggles almost immediately, kicking his feet and laughing as Kunikida dug into his ribs. Above him, Atsushi grabbed both of his hands in one transformed paw; using his free one to slowly trace his tricep. “Aheahhhaha! Gheahahhaha! Nohohohoho! Nohohoho doohohn’t do thahahahhat!”

“Oo, he’s ticklish there?” Ranpo asked, now sitting on his desk. “I thought only Kenji was.”

“It’s not that rare of a spot. Tanizaki’s the same as well.” Yasano pointed out, earning a squeaky “Hey!” from the redhead. “Try his biceps too- he hates it when I examine them.”

“Yahahhasunohohoho don’t thehehell them thahahhhahahat!” Dazai’s complaints were quickly swept clean as Atsushi did just that- finding an even better reaction. “Aheahhahahaha!”

“So sensitive. It’s a wonder why you’d even try tickling others if this is your reaction.” Kunikida tsked gently as he moved up to his highest rib, prodding rapidly into the spot and making the other howl with mirth. “Atsushi- hold him tight.”

“What-Oh!” The weretiger yelped and scrambled his grip when Dazai suddenly shot his arms down, cheeks pink and head thrown back into Atsushi’s lap as the poet dug into his armpits. “Watch your head there, Dazai. You almost took out mine.”

“GEHAHAHAHAHHA! KUHUHUUHUNI PLEHAHAHAHHASE!” Dazai squealed, twisting and turning in their grip as his second worst spot was attacked. “IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLES!”

“You don’t say?” The blonde growled, grinning at the squeaky wheeze the brunette let out. Having some mercy, he moved back to Dazai’s waist- a spot that wasn’t all that ticklish. “Are you not entertained?”

“Ehehe- aheahhahahhahaha! I meahahhan I ahahahm a lihihihiihittle!”

“He’s not fighting back, Mr. Kunikida.” Atsushi pointed out. Why he did so, he didn’t know. It was just odd how little Dazai was tugging at his wrists. “Maybe he’s getting tired?”

“No, he’s just enjoying himself.” Kunikida remarked. Such a simple comment, but it did wonders in flustering the man below them. Dazai let out a giggly whine and pressed his face into his arm, cheeks on fire and smile big.

Ah. Atsushi understood now. The running, the giggle fits, the lack of resistance.

This was Dazai’s plan all along.

In that case…

“Aww, is that right? Is it true you’re enjoying this, Dazai?” Atsushi cooed at him all sweetly, readjusting his grip once more so he could scribble against the back of Dazai’s ears- making him shrink up with a near silent laugh. “Is it true that you’re loving up tickling you? Huh? Huh?”

“Wow, he’s good at that.” Naomi mused from the background, Tanizaki and Yasano making noises of agreement. Kunikida even looked impressed.

“Are you gonna get back to work?” He asked. Dazai couldn’t speak, nodding rapidly.

“Should we let him go, sir?” Atsushi asked. The blonde thought about it some more.

“Yeah. Give him air. He might be a moron with a death wish, but he’s our moron with a death wish.” The tickles finally came to an end, leaving Dazai gasping for air and giggling softly. With no one holding him down, he was able to curl up, head against the cool leg of Ranpo’s desk. “Ehehehehe..ehhehehehehee…thahaht was fuhuhuhn..hehe..”

“Tch. Why did I know you’d say that?” Kunikida rolled his eyes without malice, heading back to his desk. “Get back to your desk once you’ve recovered. You still have paperwork to do-”

There was a flash. Dazai ran at him full speed; recovering rather quickly. Seconds later- Kunikida was face down on the ground, the brunette sitting on his hips. “Dazai! You son of a-”

“Atsushi.” That tone. Threatening and playful. The weretiger shivered all over. “I have all intended purposes of getting revenge for what you did to me. But I’m gonna make you a deal.”

Dazai turned to look back, brown eyes dark and dangerous and oh so daring. “Help me tickle Kuni, will you?”

Thanks for reading!

[callsign-dexter]

Love and Homemade Treats

Request: Hey could you do fluff Owen Strand x wife fem!reader from 9-1-1 Lone Star where she visit the station and she brought something homemade for all of them with their child? Just fluff and comfort. Tag me later! Thanks:))

Pairings: Owen Strand x Wife!Reader

Warnings: fluff

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you @pear-1206 for requesting this!

“Mommy! Daddy!” A tiny voice sounds through the early morning immediately waking you and your husband, Owen Strand, up. That tiny voice would belong to your and your husband's 4-year-old son, Dakota Strand. You and Owen had met through Grace and Judd Ryder and the both of you hit off pretty well. The two of you dated for about 2 years and then got married and have been married for 4 years. Owen’s son, TK Strand, and you hit it off pretty well. You treated him like a son and he treated you like a mother and he even started to call you mom and you were delighted. When you told them both that you were expecting they both were ecstatic and they treated you like a queen and still do. When you met Carlos Reyes, TK’s boyfriend, you didn’t judge them one bit and opened them with open arms, you even considered him a son. 

“Babe, our son is calling to us.” You said already starting to wake up and he groaned. 

“Who is taking this one?” Owen asked and you chuckled as he sat up and so did you.

“He called for both of us.” You said 

“Well then we better get going.” He said as he was starting to push the covers back and you did the same. 

“Mommy! Daddy!” Dakota said 

“We’re coming, Bud!” Owen said as the both of you walked out of the room and down the hall and to his room. When you got there, he was sitting up and tear tracks were running down his cheeks and your heart broke. 

“Kota, what’s wrong?” You asked coming over to sit on his bed and he crawled into your lap.

“I had a bad dream.” He said as he snuggled into your chest and you stroked his dark hair that he had got from his father, it was scary at how similar he looked to his father with almost no trace of you. Sometimes you were jealous but your husband was so good looking you didn’t mind it. You looked up at Owen and his face was one of sadness and worry. 

“What was it about?” Owen asked as he came to kneel in front of the two of you. 

“You and TK went into a building and you didn’t come out.” He said and your heart broke further.

“Oh, Bud. Your brother and I will always come back to you.” Owen said and he looked at him with his father’s eyes.

“Really?” He asked

“Really, they’re always super safe. You know why?” You asked and he looked up at you.

“Why, Momma?” He asked

“Because they love us and don’t want to leave us behind.” You said and sniffled and you wiped his eyes with your thumb. 

“I wanna see TK and Carlos.” He said and you chuckled and smiled and Owen smiled.

“How about we see them for lunch before they go to work?” You asked

“Ok!” Dakota said happily.

“You have a few more hours before having to get up. Do you want to sleep here or with us?” Owen asked, running a hand through his son’s hair.

“You.” He said sleepily and you smiled.

“We can certainly make that happen.” You said “Up we go.”  You said and started to stand up with him. You repositioned him to make it more comfortable on him and you. Dakota laid his head on your shoulder and started to fall back to sleep as you and Owen started the walk back to your room. Owen smiled at the sight. You sat down on the bed and laid your now sleeping child down on the bed in the middle as Owen went to his side and sat down and started to lay down. You made sure Dakota was comfortable and then you laid down. Owen and you both turned on your side to look at each other.

“This is the 4th night he has had this nightmare.” Owen whispered and you nodded.

“I know. I think there is something more to it.” You said and then yawned.

“We’ll figure it out now get some sleep. We’ll sort it out in the morning.” Owen said and you nodded.

“Sounds like a good plan.” You said and then you were closing your eyes and snuggling into your son. Owen stayed awake for a few minutes longer taking in the scene and thinking about how lucky he was to have you both, and TK as family. With those thoughts running through his head, he slipped off into sleep.

The next time you were waking up was when your alarm started to go off and you groaned and you quickly shut it off. You quickly noticed the lack of heat and little body that was snuggled into you all night and then when your hand met an empty bedside where your husband slept you weren’t too concerned. You knew Dakota was with his father and it only confirmed it when you started to smell something delicious coming from the kitchen that had you getting up and making your way there. When you got there your husband was standing behind your son as they stood over the stove, Owen making sure that Dakota didn't burn himself even if he did then he would be able to treat it. You smiled at the scene and thanked yourself for grabbing your phone before snapping pictures. “Do you think Mommy will like them?” Dakota asked and Owen smiled.

“I think anything you make for Mommy she's gonna love because she loves you.” He said and attacked him with kisses making him giggle a sound you both loved. 

“This is the sight I love to see.” You said and they both turned around.

“Mommy!” Dakota shrieked “Down, Daddy.” He said and Owen helped him down and he ran to you. He jumped and thankfully you had fast reflexes and caught him. 

“Hi, Baby. Are you helping daddy with breakfast?” You asked 

“Uh huh.” He said nodding.

“Actually, it's almost ready. Carlos and TK should be over here any minute now.” Owen said 

“Oh, I thought they were coming for lunch?” You asked

“They were but had something come up with afternoon and wanted to do breakfast.” Owen said

“Well, that's wonderful! I'm gonna go and get us ready for the day while you get everything ready.” You said

“Sounds wonderful.” He said and that's what you set out to do. Once you both were changed and teeth brushed there was a knock on the door and Dakota looked at you wide eyes.

“You know who that is?” You asked 

“Carlos and TK!” He shouted and then he was rushing off to the door with you not far behind. 

“Hey, no running.” Owen scolded as he got food onto plates.

“Sorry, Daddy.” He said as he reached the door and was about to open it before you stopped him.

“Hey, no opening the doors without one of us.” You said and he nodded and you grabbed the door handle and opened it. 

“TK! CARLOS!” He shouted and rushed to them and TK picked him up.

“There's my little buddy.” He said and hugged him. “Hi, mom.” He said looking at you and you smiled.

“Hi, Baby.” You said and hugged him as Dakota was passed to Carlos. 

“Hi, Mrs. Strand.” Carlos said as he hugged you as Dakota was quickly transferred to TK as he asked to be back in TK's who was heading into the kitchen with his little brother.

“Hi, Carlos. Please call me Y/N.” You said, chuckling as you released him.

“If you want.” He said smiling.

“Come on, the food is ready.” You said and then he was walking into the kitchen as you shut the door. You joined them in the kitchen. Dakota was talking TK's and Carlos’ ear off but they could care the least bit. Breakfast was eaten with some fun mixed in and many many laughs were thrown out. Carlos and TK stayed until they needed to leave which everyone was sad about but Dakota was the most upset about it, he loved his older brother even if they weren’t full brothers.

Lunch came and went and the rest of the time was spent with Owen cuddling his youngest son and cuddling you. You had him do some stuff that he needed to do that couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to do such as using the ladder. Yes, you were capable of using a ladder but Owen didn’t like it just because he wanted to keep you safe. Although you do get on there and he doesn’t know about it but what he doesn’t know what hurt him. Currently you were helping him pack his bag more like you were putting the clothes that Dakota was taking out back in. Dakota always struggled with his dad leaving but he usually got over it after a few hours he was gone. After about the fifth time Owen was getting frustrated. “Kota, daddy has to go to work.” He said.

“No, Daddy you stay.” He said looking up with puppy dog eyes and suddenly you knew it was because of the nightmare. So, you got to his level and made him look you in the eyes.

“Dakota, look at me.” You said and he did so.

“Daddy isn’t going to leave you neither is TK. They’re extra careful to come home to us. They have to go and save people’s lives. Ok, Baby?” You asked and he nodded and Owen got down to his level too.

“That’s right Buddy. We’ll always come home to you and Mommy.” Owen said and Dakota nodded.

“Ok.” He said and you both kissed him and got back to packing. Soon the packing was done with the help of Dakota instead of him disrupting the packing. Soon it was time for Owen to leave and after a very tearful goodbye from Dakota, Owen was kissing you and heading out the door. Dakota was still crying.

“Hey, it's ok. How about we call Daddy before you go to bed and we go see him tomorrow and bring him and TK some really tasty treats, hmmm?” You asked, looking at him and brushing his bangs to the side and wiping his eyes.

“Ok, Mommy.” He said and you smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Now what do you want to take to him and TK?” You asked, still holding him and walking into the living room.

“Pie. No cheesecake. No cookies!” He said and you chuckled.

“How about all three or we make the pie or cheesecake for us and send the cookies to them?” You asked 

“I like that idea, Mommy.” He said and you smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Very well then let’s get to it.” You said and set him down while you got all the ingredients. You and Dakota started to put ingredients together and soon after about 3 hours of baking you had everything baked and cooling down ready to be packaged to take to the firehouse tomorrow. “Alright, what do you want to eat?” You asked him already knowing the answer.

“Chicken nuggets and fries!” He said excitedly and you chuckled.

“Of course, how could I forget?” You asked not expecting an answer but got a giggle back. You turned to the stove and got the air fryer going “Hey, why don’t you go wash up and then go watch something?” You asked and he looked at you.

“Ok, Momma.” He said and scurried off while you started getting the fries and chicken nuggets out and waited for the oven to preheat before putting everything in and setting it for the time required. Soon you were hearing the TV turning on and some kids show queuing up. Soon the food was done and you were putting the food on plates and grabbing the ketchup and drinks and heading into the living room.

“We don’t tell daddy about this.” You said “It’s our secret.” You said and he nodded, taking it very seriously. 

“Our secret.” He said and then started to eat snuggling up against you. Soon you both were done eating and now it was time for him to start winding down and head off to bed. It wouldn’t take that long considering his eyes were already drooping. Your phone started to vibrate in your pocket and you got it and saw it was a facetime from Owen and you smiled and answered it. 

“Hey, Honey.” Owen said keeping his voice quiet and you could see he was in his office.

“Hey, Baby.” You replied

“Kota still up?” He asked 

“Barley.” You said and showed him his son.

“Hi, Buddy.” Owen said and that stirred him a little.

“Hi, Daddy.” He said in a sleepy quiet voice.

“Did you have a good day with your mom?” He asked and you nodded.

“We made sweets.” He said and rubbed his eye.

“You did? What kind?” Owen asked and Dakota looked at you.

“Strawberry cheesecake, apple pie, and chocolate chip peanut butter cookies.” You said

“Oh, I’m so jealous.” Owen said “I wish I was there to eat it all.” He said and Dakota chuckled and then yawned. “You get some sleep. I’ll see you in a few days. I love you.” He said.

“Love you too, Daddy.” He said and then you turned the phone to face you.

“Goodnight, Babe. We’re planning to make a trip up there at some point. You ok with that?” You asked 

“Always. Goodnight, Honey. I love you.” He said

“I love you too.” You said and then you both were hanging up the phone. You looked down and found Dakota sound asleep. 

“Out like a light.” You said and got up and carefully picked him up and walked him to his room and tucked him in and bent down and kissed his head. “Goodnight, Baby. I love you.” You said and made sure his night light was on and walked out of his room cracking his door. You went back to the living room and cleaned up and turned on a show that you had been watching and watched it until your eyes were drooping and you were headed to bed.

The next morning you were waking up to your son crawling into the bed with you. “Mommy?” He asked.

“Yes, Kota?” You asked

“We go and see Daddy and TK today?” He asked and you smiled and pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“Of course, Baby. Let’s get dressed and brush our teeth then we can pack up the sweets and head that way.” You said and he nodded and he was scrambling to get off your bed and do what he was told. You chuckled and shook your head and did the same. Once you were changed into jeans and one of Owen’s hoodies you went and checked on him and found him dressed similarly, jeans and a hoodie. “You ready?” You asked and he nodded and the both of you went into the kitchen and packed the food up and put it in a bag. You headed for the door with your bag and grabbed your purse and keys. “Remember to hold my hand while we are crossing the street and in crowded places.” You said and he nodded.

“I remember, Momma.” He said and you smiled. He was so much like his dad. You arrived at the elevator and let him press the button and it instantly opened and you both stepped in and let him press the button that you told him too. You quickly arrived at the lobby and you held out his hand for his and he took it. You walked out of the building and to your car you put the food beside his car seat and then strapped him in. You got in and turned the car on and headed off to the station. The car ride was filled with laughter and signing. When you arrived the firetruck and ambulance were just rolling in.

“Hey, there’s daddy.” You said and he looked out the window excitedly. He was always amazed by the firetrucks and ambulances. You parked the car beside Owen’s truck and waited until everyone was pulled in and out before you got out. Once they were in the garage you got out and saw Judd walking over. “Hey, Judd.” You said and smiled and started for Dakota’s door.

“Hey, Y/N. Need any help?” He asked and you smiled at him.

“Actually yes. I have some sweets beside his car seat. Do you mind grabbing it?” You asked

“Yes ma’am.” He said and opened the door.

“Judd!” Dakota shrieked as you opened the door and started to unbuckle him.

“Hey, Bud! How are you?” He asked

“Good! We’re seeing daddy.” He said and you chuckled and smiled.

“You are? I know he will be happy to see you.” He said as you finished getting him out and picking him up as Judd grabbed the bag and walked around the car after shutting the door and you locked the car. 

“Yea!” He shouted and the two of you started to walk in and he spotted TK. “TK!” He shouted and wiggled and you put him down and he ran to his big brother who easily caught him. You stared at the sight for a second smiling and then you and Judd walked over to the table and began to put the desserts on the table. A pair of arms slinked around your waist. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” Owen said and you smiled.

“I told you that we would be coming to see you.” You said as you turned around in his arms and the others gathered around. 

“Daddy!” Dakota shouted and that made him turn around and come face to face with TK holding Dakota and he reached for him and he took him. 

“Hi, Buddy.” He said and he wrapped his little arms around his father’s neck.

“I heard desserts were brought.” Mateo said and you chuckled.

“That would be correct. We have strawberry cheesecake, apple pie, and chocolate chip peanut butter cookies.” You said 

“Marry me.” Matteo said and everyone laughed.

“Sorry, she’s already taken.” Owen said and everyone laughed again.

“Dig in!” You said and everyone did as you stood back with Owen and your son as you watched your other children fulfill themselves on the desserts.

“How did I get so lucky to have you two in my life?” Owen said and you chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“Thank Grace for that.” You said and he chuckled.

“Hey, Dakota, do you want some?” Marjan asked, looking over at him.

“Can I, Daddy?” Dakota asked

“If it is ok with your mom.” He said 

“It’s alright with me.” You said 

“Yay!” Dakota shouted and then Owen was walking over to the table. You smiled looking at the scene. TK walked over and stood next to you holding two plates with a slice of apple pie and handed one to you. 

“Thank you.” You said

“You’re welcome. So, what made you decide to come down?” He asked

“Well, a little someone wanted to see his daddy and big brother.” You said and TK smiled.

“He’s such a good kid.” He said and you smiled.

“He is and so are you.” You said bringing an arm to pull him in a side hug and he smiled and laid his head on your shoulder.

“Thanks, Mom.” He said and you kissed his head.

“You’re welcome.” You said and then he was getting called away leaving you to stare ahead smiling while you ate your pie. 

You don’t know how you got so lucky but you were glad you did. You got a good husband, two good sons and a lot of extended family, who act like kids sometimes but you wouldn’t trade them for anything or ask for anyone better. You were happy with your family.

Tag list:

@kmc1989

@els-marvelvsp

@atarmychick007

@nyx2021

@grandstrangerphantom

@angenu01-blog

@talesofreading

@callsign-revenge

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 6

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been brutally stabbed, who can you trust?

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Mentions of Violence, Slight Gore, Language, Some fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: More….more angst. (But dw it’s getting better) This one’s for paige and cutie anon :)) I wanna know what y’all think, who’s ghostface??

Ethan looks beat up. He stands in front of you, eyes wide; mouth slightly open.

Where did he come from?

You don’t have the time to make the decision if he’s Ghostface or not, so you assume the worst. You half contemplate making a run for it, maybe you’ll get far enough away that you lose him.

It would never work, you’re aware of that. You’re extremely wounded, he’d catch up to you in a minute.

There’s no way he could’ve attacked you on the balcony, slipped out the robe, and gotten in front of the pub so quick…right?

His eyes fly down to your shoulder, and now his mouth drops open fully.

“YN! Are you alright? I tried to find you as fast as possible, but Ghostface attacked me-“ He stops, catching his breath. “And I- I got away but jesus lord this hurts.”

He points to his thigh, and that’s when you notice the gash; all red and oozing.

He has an attack mark, okay; you think.

But he could’ve easily done it to fake you out. The other part of you thinks.

It wasn’t an outlandish theory, plenty of Ghostface’s before have.

You eye him up and down.

“How did you find me? What the fuck are you doing here?” You question, accusatory tone in your voice.

He looks taken aback, obviously not expecting you to accuse him of being Ghostface.

But then his gaze turns cold, and you realize you’ve never seen the boy angry before.

“Are you kidding me? I came here to look for you, like I said. Your location was on, we have each other on find my friends; don’t you remember? Are you seriously considering me as Ghostface right now?”

You bite back an insult, really study his face. He doesn’t look like he’s lying, but that doesn’t really reassure you.

It’s a race between your head and your heart, and you curse; shaking your head.

The blood you’re losing is starting to take a toll on your critical thinking skills, and you can feel the haze start to take over.

You figure it wouldn’t hurt to have a suspect with you right now, if he tried anything you wouldn’t hesitate to slit his throat.

“Can we talk about this later?” You grit, “I’m kind of dying over here.”

His eyes soften a bit, and you can see the split decision he makes.

“Come on, let’s go back to the apartment.” He urges, signaling you to his car.

You stare at him sharply.

“The apartment? What the fuck are we going to do there? Let’s go to the hospital.” You say.

He shakes his head once, then twice.

“No. Tara would kill me if I don’t get you back in like 10 minutes. Anika’s a nursing major, she’ll fix you up.” He says, helping you up into his car; staining the seat with the amount of blood pooling from you.

You open your mouth to argue, but find you can’t speak. The haze has gotten really bad, and your vision’s starting to blur.

“YN? Stop, stay awake first. Just a few minutes. Keep your eyes open.” You hear faintly, along with the sound of the car speeding through the street.

My eyes….huh, they won’t open. You try to tell Ethan you can’t hold on any longer, but everything turns black as you do.

-

You don’t wake till hours later, propped up on the couch in the apartment; blinking at the bright lights in front of you.

“Oh christ.” You mumble as you try and sit up, but feel your stomach constrict painfully.

“Don’t move.” You hear from beside you, and your eyes shoot to the person sitting next to you; hand on your arm.

It’s Tara, and it only takes you a second to notice the fire in her eyes from before is gone. Nobody else is there in the room, just her and you.

You feel yourself relax a little, tilting your head back up to the ceiling.

It’s silent for a good minute until Tara shifts in her seat, and you can almost feel the hesitance radiating off her.

“What were you thinking? Going off alone, you could’ve been seriously hurt. Hell, you are seriously hurt!” She hisses, and you roll over; scrunch your eyebrows together at her.

It’s infuriating, that she thinks she has the right to be mad at you. After what happened last night? The audacity.

It’s petty, but you don’t care. You want to piss her off.

“Why do you care? I thought you weren’t my girlfriend anymore.” You say, hotly.

Tara’s taken by surprise at your statement, mouth opening and closing; gaping like a fish.

She finally opens it to speak after a few seconds. There’s still irritation in her voice, but it’s lessened almost insurmountably.

“Well, I still care about my friends-“ She starts but you silence her with a finger pressed to her lips.

It’s hard to stop you from speaking now, you’ve spent the last few days stirring and collecting your thoughts.

“Do you really think you can call me your friend after that? Do you treat your friends like you treated me?” You question, and swipe your finger against her lips.

She shivers a little underneath your touch, and sinks timidly onto the floor.

“YN, look I’m sorry. I believe you now.” She mumbles, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Too little too late Tara.” And you sink back into the couch; looking away from the brunette.

You’re butthurt, you’re aware of it; but you still want to make Tara pay a little.

“What can I do, to make it up to you?“ She asks, gingerly placing her hand on yours again.

You retract quickly. You don’t miss the flash of hurt that passes through her features.

You feel your defenses breaking a bit.

“Just give it time, Tara. I want to be left alone.” You sigh, shooting her a final look that screams ‘please just leave’.

She seems to understand, because she gets up immediately and walks away.

You try and quell the pit of regret in your stomach the minute she leaves. After everything, you still miss her. You curse yourself silently.

There’s hushed voices from around the corner that Tara’s just turned. You strain your ears, and you recognize both people speaking immediately.

“Tara where are her parents? Why aren’t we calling them?” Ethan questions; and you can picture his tight brows and unsure stance.

“Her mom’s all the way back in California, and she’s never told me about her dad.” Tara says, “We shouldn’t worry her, YN wouldn’t want that.”

You clench your eyes shut, rub your head in hopes of relieving some tension. Your parents were always a touchy subject, and never failed to give you a headache.

You tune their conversation out after that, try to fall asleep and lessen the aching pain in your lower stomach.

-

You get a good 3 hours in before you’re waking up again, hand clutching the skin beside your wound.

It’s searing, and you need to relieve it now. You’re so caught up in the pain you don’t see the shifting figure across the room.

There’s a shuffling sound somewhere around the room, and you tilt your head to the side; trying to see the person.

It’s Tara, and she’s getting up quickly; moving almost like she’s been caught. She avoids your gaze as she leaves.

You sigh. Bite back your pride as you ask her.

“Wait- Tara could you grab me the ice pack from the fridge?”

She turns around immediately, face lighting up. You pretend not to see.

She walks to the fridge, grabs the ice pack from the freezer and holds it between her hands. It looks huge in comparison to her fingers.

She’s fidgeting with it, the coldness painting the tips of her fingers a slight purple.

It’s kind of cute.

She walks over, footsteps light; and lingers in front of you.

She’s so hesitant with you now you sort of feel bad. Maybe you shouldn’t have been too harsh.

“Come here, what are you waiting for?” You inquire, patting the spot beside you.

She sits and reaches down to your shirt; but she catches herself before she can pull it up; looking at you with searching eyes.

You nod.

She seems to take that as a good enough answer because she pulls it up just enough to show your wound, and she’s wincing at the sight of it.

“Jesus, does it hurt?” She asks, devastated look in her eyes. You look away before you say anything stupid.

“First of all, my name is YN. Second, a little bit.” You say, voice tight.

Shit, that’s a stupid joke.

She ignores your statement and focuses on the wound.

“Oh god, how do I do this? I should’ve asked Anika to come look after you.” She rambles, head swishing back like she’s about to bolt out the room.

You bring up an arm to stop her, ignoring the sharp pain and making her look at you.

“I want you to do it. Here, I’ll help.” You say, hesitating when you remember you don’t know where to put it either.

Obviously she shouldn’t press it right on the wound, you know that. You settle for the area around the wound; the part that’s already turning green and purple.

You’re still touching her hand when you guide her. She’s breathing a little heavy; cheeks tinted the faintest red.

Her touch is so gentle, it makes you swallow nervously. Everything suddenly feels very intimate.

No, how were you breaking already? You literally just told her you needed time.

The look in her eyes as she presses the ice to you makes you think she’s feeling the same way. Avoiding your eyes, gingerly placing her fingers on your skin.

You close your eyes, but Tara must think you’ve gone to sleep, because a few moments later you hear her mutter under her breath.

“I’m so sorry.”

-

You know what people don’t tell you about being brutally stabbed? It’s boring as hell.

It’s been a couple of days, and you can still barely move anywhere; in fact, you think it might be getting worse.

Anika’s come in to check on you every few hours, taking care of the wound and giving you antibiotics. You’re not really sure if she’s qualified to do that, but you shrug it off.

You start conversations and send sweet smiles to her as often as you can, trying to show her you’re grateful for everything she’s doing.

“Oh hush, of course I’ll help a friend in need.” She said once during a new wrap up of your wound, where you’d tried to express how thankful you were.

The rest of the group seems to be feeling guilty for it too, and they’re trying to help; you can see it.

Mindy visits sometimes and tells jokes, sometimes discusses her theories about who ghostface is with you. She’s surprisingly very funny, and you wonder why you haven’t talked more before.

Chad doesn’t really say much, but he buys you snacks and once a bouquet of flowers; handing them over with a shy smile.

Ethan’s ethan. He visits every day, cracks lame jokes. Shows you the latest updates on the game he’s been obsessed with.

And Tara, sweet Tara. She sticks by your side all day and night, but always leaves enough space for you to feel comfortable. Her usual spot is on the armchair across from you, and you’ve caught her staring at you more times than she cares to admit.

Everything’s changed, including your feelings toward her. Your heart swells whenever she asks if you need anything, or checks up on your temperature hourly. You have to fight the urge to pull her down and kiss her as she’s taking a wet towel and wiping your forehead.

But you don’t utter a word, because the damage has been done, and you don’t want to confuse her more than you already have.

The only member of the group to not check up on you yet is Sam, which is understandable. It’s not like you and Sam have a sweet sister-like bond.

But today, when the front door opens and you call out for Tara; Sam enters the room instead.

She doesn’t say anything as she grabs a chair and comes to sit beside you; or more so in front of you.

You try to sit up, but it’s still excruciatingly painful to; so you settle for rolling on your side and making eye contact with the older woman.

“Um, sorry for not coming to check up on you earlier. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I think the rest of the group has it covered.” She says.

You stay quiet as she finds more things to say.

“Are you and Tara alright? I know things were a little tense after the whole DNA debacle.”

You can’t help but snicker.

“Tense is one way to put it.”

“I’m also sorry for not believing you earlier,” She grits, like saying sorry to you is the hardest thing in the world. “I shouldn’t have judged you so hard, because well; you’re obviously not Ghostface.”

She gestures to the 5-inch stab wound.

You grimace, pursing your lips.

“I’m sorry too,” You start, “For bringing Tara up on the roof that day, it was a dangerous thing to do; and Tara could’ve been seriously hurt. God I don’t know what I’d do if Tara had been stabbed that day.” You add the last bit as an afterthought, not really meaning to say it to Sam.

She looks thoughtful as she speaks again, slowly.

“I know we’ve had our fair share of differences, but I can tell Tara loves you. I mean, she practically begged me not to tell the others about the dna.”

You raise your eyebrows, obviously not expecting Sam to admit something like that.

“I’m not exactly sure what she sees in you, but if you make her happy; then I guess I can tolerate you.” She finishes, and for the first time since meeting her; she looks kind.

You know how hard it is for Sam to open up to someone, you’ve heard all about it from Tara. The fact that she’s bringing her defenses down and admitting she’s wrong makes you beam.

“Plus, you aren’t that bad of a fighter; are you? Ethan’s been bragging that his best friend sucker punched Ghostface after getting stabbed.” And you see the ghost of a smile playing on her lips.

It’s gone as fast as it appears, because now Sam’s leaning in, whispering to you even though you’re the only two people in the room.

“Someone’s setting us up.” She says, “It has to be someone from within our friend group.”

She looks small, hunched over with worry swimming in her eyes. You briefly consider taking her hand in comfort; but think better of it.

“Sam,” You say, voice stern. “Whoever this Ghostface is, we’ll find them. And then we’ll kill them together, for Tara.”

Determination runs through your voice, and it must break Sam out of whatever overthinking she’s doing.

She nods, and you guys share a moment of understanding.

“Together. Let’s kill this son of a bitch.”

[finnsbubblegum]

I’m Sorry (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: car accident, miscarriages (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Words count: 1.7k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 15 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

“Should we go to my parents house this weekend and tell them?” You were sitting on the exam bed while waiting for the doctor to print your sonogram picture.

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Joel nodded.

“Sorry it took so long. Here, I printed five for you. And don’t forget to get the vitamins at the pharmacy before you leave.” The doctor passed you the sonogram pictures and a prescription.

“Thank you, doc.” You and Joel thanked her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you on our next appointment.” She smiled.

“Do you want to wait here and sit while I get this?” Joel raised the prescription. 

“I’ll come with you.” You linked your arms to Joel’s.

“Hi, Joel.” A familiar woman and man stopped in front of the two of you.

Joel sighed. He didn’t expect to meet his ex-wife and her boyfriend again. At the obgyn in all of the places? 

“Hi.” You greeted them with a forced smile.

“Congratulations to both of you.” She pointed at the sonogram picture in Joel’s hand.

“Thank you.” You looked at her while you rubbed Joel’s arms.

“Congratulations to you too.” You pointed your eyes to her protruding belly.

Joel’s ex-wife was pregnant with her current boyfriend. She was bigger than you so it was obvious.

“I hope you’ll be a good mom this time.” Joel sarcastically said to his ex-wife. 

Even though it had been a few years, he was still hurt by her and he still hated her. He could never forgive her for what she had done. She failed her daughter but why did God give her a second chance to be a mother? He wondered. Life was not fair.

“It’s okay.” She grabbed her boyfriend's wrist as he stepped forward to Joel almost starting a fight.

“I will, Joel. I’m sorry. I hope to see Sarah sometime.” She brought up Sarah.

Joel groaned and rolled his eyes. You rubbed his arms with your thumb to calm him.

“Sure, we can set a time.” You smiled at her.

Joel turned his head to you and widened his eyes. He wanted to make his ex wife suffer by not allowing her to meet her daughter. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I hope you and your baby are healthy.” She put her hands on your upper arm.

“You too.” You smiled and parted ways.

In the car

“You okay, there?” You asked Joel as he was quiet since your meeting with his ex-wife.

He stayed quiet, not answering you.

“Joel, baby?” You called him.

He only hummed and looked straight while driving.

“I get it. You’re mad at me.” You nodded, holding the seatbelt on your chest.

“Yes, I’m mad at you. What the fuck was that?!” He raised his voice.

You trembled. Hands gripping your seatbelt tighter.

“You’ll let her see Sarah?!” He hit the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry. I just thought-I’m pregnant now and I know how a mother is connected to her baby. She grew Sarah inside her for 9 months, Joel.” You started sobbing.

“Don’t you dare cry now.” Joel growled.

“Joel, please. I’m sorry.” You cried.

“Fine, I’ll call her and tell her she can’t see Sarah anymore. If that’s what you want.” You took out your phone.

“Don’t.” Joel started driving faster.

“What do I do? What do you want me to do?” You sobbed.

Joel cleared his throat and didn’t answer you.

“Joel! Slow down! You’re gonna get us killed!” You screamed.

He kept on pressing the gas pedal and speeding up.

“Joel! Please! Stop the car! Stop it!” You cried as you screamed.

Joel hit the brake suddenly as he saw the red light. You panted as the car stopped so suddenly. Then the light turned green and Joel pressed on the gas pedal again.

"Baby, I'm sor-" Joel didn't finish his sentence. 

*car crash*

A speeding car suddenly crashed from the left side. Joel’s reflex tried his best to turn the car avoiding the crash but the car turned in circles. You screamed as the car turned. Your hand instinctively wrapped around your belly protecting your baby inside your belly. You hit your head as the car crashed. You and Joel blacked out for a moment. 

“Baby..” Joel opened his eyes and groaned at the pain. 

Joel turned his head to you but you were unconscious. He panicked and hurriedly took off his seatbelt. He was shaking.

“Baby, can you hear me?” His bloody hands cupped your cheeks.

“Baby, open your eyes. Open your eyes for me, baby, please.” Joel tapped your cheeks with his palms and sobbed.

Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry. You blinked your eyes a few times as you heard his voice. All you could see was him, blood and pieces of glass everywhere.

“Where are you hurt?” Joel looked up and down to your body.

“J-joel..” You called his name.

“Baby, you hurt? Tell me.” He cupped your cheeks.

“Wait here. I’ll get you out.” Joel immediately got out of the car and ran to your side. 

He was in pain but he ignored it. Your safety was his priority. You were more important than him. 

“Come here, put your arms around me. I got you, baby. I got you.” Joel put his arms around you to help you out ignoring his pain.

“J-joel. I’m in pain.” You shakily put your hand on your abdomen and squeezed it.

“I know, I know. I need to get you out first. Come on.” Joel tried to lift you.

“Joel, the baby.. I can’t lose the baby.” You cried as you felt warm liquid flowing to your thigh.

“Shit.” Joel looked down to your skirt and saw blood.

“Joel..” You cried looking through his eyes.

“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me. Don’t look down.” He tried not to panic so you didn’t panic.

“Joel, everything hurts..” You cried on his shoulder as he dragged you out of the car. 

“Somebody call the ambulance!” Joel shouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.” Joel cradled your head as he laid you on the ground.

Thankfully, a stranger called an ambulance and they came right away. The paramedic laid you on the wheeled stretcher and Joel’s heart broke. He blamed himself. He didn’t know what he should do. He followed you inside the ambulance and held your hand throughout the way to the hospital. You squeezed his hand in pain and he brought your hand to his lips.

“Please help my wife. She’s pregnant.” Joel begged the nurse as she brought you inside.

“Sir, you need to get treated too.” The nurse invited him to the examination bed to get treated.

Joel’s head was bleeding. His bones probably dislocated or fractured but he didn’t care. His focus was only you. He felt extremely guilty and his chest hurt. 

“Sir, we’re sending your wife to the operating room. It’s best if you get treated while you wait.” The nurse repeated again.

“Save her, please.” Joel sobbed. 

“We’ll try our best.” The nurse smiled.

Then Joel followed the nurse and got treated. He called Tommy to watch Sarah for a while but he told him not to tell Sarah what happened. Then he waited for a few hours and shook his legs in anxiety. Joel stood up right away when you were brought out from the operating room.

“How is she?” Joel asked the doctor with his casted arm.

“Sir, I’m so sorry for your loss. We couldn’t save your baby. And your wife needs a lot of rest. We need you to stay strong for her.” The doctor felt bad for telling Joel such bad news.

Joel cried as he looked at your weak body laying on the hospital bed. The nurses pushed your bed to your room while Joel followed beside you. Joel stayed beside you all the time when you were still sleeping because of the drugs.  He slept resting his head on the bed beside you, holding your hand, never letting you go. In his mind, he kept thinking how he would tell you when you regain your consciousness.

“Joel?” You whispered as you opened your eyes a little.

Joel raised his head right away when he heard you call his name.

“Hey, I’m here, baby. I’m here.” Joel stroked your head.

“Where am I?” You tried to remember what happened and your head hurts.

“You’re in the hospital. We got into a car accident.” He explained the main points.

“My head hurts.” You put your hand on your head then your stomach.

“Joel- The baby. Please, tell me it’s okay.” You started panting as you panicked.

“Baby-I-” Joel couldn’t find his words.

“Joel-please-” You sobbed.

“I-I’m sorry.” He cried.

“Joel! No! Please!” You cried gripping his shirt.

“I’m sorry, baby. It was my fault. I’m sorry.” He cried and buried your head to his chest hugging you tight.

You cried so loud. Your tears wet his shirt. You didn’t expect this would happen. 

“Bring him back! Bring him back, please!” You screamed and tried to get out of the bed looking for the doctors.

You used him for your unborn child because you could feel it would be a boy. But now he’s gone. Your baby boy was gone. Your heart was shredded into pieces at the fact you couldn’t protect your baby.

“Baby, you need to lay down. You need rest.” Joel held you from standing up.

“Don’t touch me!” You threw his hand away from you.

“It’s all your fault! None of this would happen if you didn’t speed up!” You yelled at him. Tears falling down your cheeks.

“I hate you! I hate you! And I hate myself!” You took off the IV needle that was inserted on the back of your hand and stood up.

The nurses came inside as you tried to leave the room. They held you and put you back to your bed. Your heart rate was rising and they decided to give you sedatives to calm you down. Joel cried as he saw you like that. He was guilt-ridden and helpless. He never wanted to hurt you and now you hate him. 

To be continued…

A/N: I wasn’t planning about this but when I was writing for this chapter my hands kept typing it this way. I don’t know if you like it but I hope you like it!! ❤️

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

[beneathstarryskies]

Can I please request FWB #9 with Nanami Kento? Can he be the one to say the "unlove" part?

Warnings: angsty angst angst, no happy ending here

9. “We promised each other that this wouldn’t happen.” “Yeah, but it’s happened. What do you want me to do about it? I can’t just un-love you.”

It had started with the simplest of intentions. The two of you were going through a dry spell in your respective love lives, and came to the decision there was no harm in two friends blowing off a little steam together. It was fun at first; so deliciously easy to give in to your shared desire. You’d always loved hanging out with Kento, and now the added bonus of sex was just mindblowing. He was good, easily the best you’d ever had. 

It had also come with one practical stipulation, which to your surprise was brought up by Kento. 

“We can’t fall in love,” he said simply. 

He didn’t have to list the reasons, because you knew why. His life was dangerous, although he couldn’t tell you the truth as to why you’d seen him beat up enough to know he was involved in something shady. He couldn’t afford to drag anyone else into danger. There was also the fact that neither of you had much luck with relationships, and the pessimists in you couldn’t see that changing. The idea of losing one another forever if things didn’t work out was beyond painful, therefore it seemed pragmatic to eliminate the possibility completely. 

When Kento had shown up to your apartment unannounced, you weren’t upset by it at all. Although you were surprised considering when you texted him to propose another session of “blowing off steam” he’d declined. Still, seeing him always brought butterflies to your stomach, even more so now that you know how tender his calloused hands could be on your skin and how eager he was to hear you moaning with pleasure. 

What you hadn’t expected was for him to sit down on your couch with his eyes cast on the floor, the bags underneath making him appear weathered in a way that made you want to settle on his lap and run your fingers through his hair while promising him that everything would be okay. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said quietly, the raspiness of his voice betraying the glasses of whiskey he’d drank before coming over. 

“What do you mean?” you cross your arms over your chest instinctively to protect yourself from crumbling. Why would he say this? Is there someone else? 

“Just what I said,” he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I still want to be friends, but I can’t…” 

“Fuck me anymore?” 

“R-right,” he stutters. 

Usual Kento, so direct and efficient. Yet you couldn’t fight your softer, more emotional nature. 

“Did you meet someone?” 

Kento’s head raises slightly but he can’t bring himself to look at you. 

“No, it’s you. It’s always been you. I — fuck — I love you, okay?” 

“You…Love me?” you swallow hard, fighting between elation and fear. “But we promised each other this wouldn’t happen.” 

Kento sighs softly, his large hands clenching into fists, “Yeah, but it’s happened. What do you want me to do about it? I can’t just un-love you.”

“S-so…What does this mean? We can’t be friends anymore?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t want that at all. I need you in my life. You’re the only thing—” he trails off, fearing saying too much and driving a wedge even deeper between you. 

“And you still don’t want to try being together?” you say quietly, hoping he’ll say yes but already anticipating the rejection. 

“I can’t, you know I can’t. Not right now.” 

“Then when?” 

“I don’t know, okay?” 

“What if I love you too?” 

“Don’t say that,” he places his hands over his eyes, his breaths growing shaky. “Please just don’t fucking say that.” 

You open your mouth to say the words, but they catch in your throat when you see his shoulders shaking. The tension in your body releases when you realize he’s crying. In all your years of closeness, you’ve never seen him cry. 

You approach him slowly, and place your hands on his shoulders. He grabs your waist, burying his face against your stomach as he cries into your shirt. He clings to you like his life depends on it, drawing you closer and closer until you’re lost in a familiar embrace of passion. 

When you wake up the next morning, you’re alone.

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober 9

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 9: threesome. You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x John MacTavish x reader

(threesome) (college!au) (homoerotic!ghoap)

cw: mlm (kind of), extreme bromance, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, anal, reader is stuffed like a turkey

word count: 2512

a/n: i hope posting this late won't happen as often in the future, please be patien with me xo ++ first time writing a threesome, may make no sense at all lol

“Who do ye like best, between Si-boy here and I?”

“I can’t choose, Johnny. You can’t ask me that, I love you both equally.”

“Bunch ‘a shite, bonnie. Ye must like someone more?”

“Nuh uh, can’t say I do.”

“Who would you fuck, then?”

Both you and Johnny turned to Simon, your beer bottle hanging mid-air, the rim slightly brushing against your lips. “What now?” You and Johnny asked at the same time, completely caught off-guard by Simon’s sudden question. “Si, I don’t think-” You looked between the two boys, perplexed, sitting criss-crossed on the carpeted floor of your dorm room between your two friends. Your best friends, since you could remember.

“I mean it. We talked about this, aye? At least I’ve got the balls to ask ‘er.” He bit back to Johnny, shooting him a sidelong glare. “You don’t really mean it…right?” You tried to play it off by chuckling awkwardly, giving them a nervous half-smile. Johnny sighed, looking away as heat crept up his neck, his cerulean eyes avoiding your gaze. You turned to Simon, and his brown eyes were locked on yours. He looked dead serious. “You…you’re not joking?” You asked, fiddling with your beer.

“No,” Simon replied plainly. “And I am expecting an answer.” You could feel Johnny’s shy gaze on you, eagerly waiting. This was not how you had expected the night to go. You had invited them over to catch up a bit, since even if you all went to the same college, your schedules rarely allowed you to spend time together. They’d brought some beers, covering the smoke alarm with a damp sock so they could smoke, and it was all sailing smoothly, until now.

“Didnae mean to pressure ye, y/n. You dinnae have to answer him if ye’re not feelin’ like it.” Johnny said from behind you, although you knew he was secretly dying to know. “Guys, really…?” You asked, your gaze flicking between the two boys. “I can’t choose, it wouldn’t be fair. And I really don’t have a favourite. You want my honest answer? If it came to it, then both.” The look they gave you as soon as the words fell out of your lips made you regret almost every decision you had ever made over your exiguous years of life on this earth. Then they looked at each other, and you wondered if you were in trouble. Or about to be.

“Y’ heard the lady, Johnny,” Simon murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t be nice of us to not please her, eh?” You were increasingly more confused, especially since Johnny was mirroring his friend’s expression. “Sure wouldn’t,” he said. “So, y/n, will you have us?” The weight of their eyes on you felt unbearable. Did they seriously mean it? Of course they must’ve been fucking with you or something, they couldn’t possibly really mean it, they had been your best friends for ages, it felt borderline incestuous to see them under a different light.

You remembered two kids rolling in mud and playing rugby under the rain, then shaking themselves off like dogs, of course while standing next to you, and then you’d chase after them to beat them up with a stick. But now they were all grown up, their shoulders filled out, their features sharper, but they never lost the cheeky glint in their eyes.

Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. “I mean…fuck it, right?” You chuckled nervously, still thinking they were playing some prank on you. “We already did everything together, I don’t think sex would be weird.” They exchanged another look, then Johnny moved to take the beer out of your hands. “Ye’ve got us, then.” With that, he took a large swig from the bottle, using his other hand to reach for your face, taking your jaw between his fingers, applying minimal pressure, just enough to get your lips to part.

You didn’t have the time to process that he was getting closer, until his lips collided with yours, and you felt the bitter liquid go down your throat. You swallowed, still kissing Johnny, and he took the chance to let his tongue slide into your mouth, seeking out your tongue, which you offered with no resistance. Something similar to growl rumbled in his chest, and you felt it reverberating through your bones, all of your body relaxing into the kiss.

A pair of large hands found their way to your waist from behind, as Simon used his nose to move your hair out of the way, lips latching onto the sensitive skin of your neck, flushed from the heat of their touch. You moaned into Johnny’s mouth, and his kiss got somehow more passionate. His hands were on your thighs, gently prodding them apart to allow himself between them. Simon’s hands crept under your t-shirt, soon finding the soft swells of your breasts, no extra fabric separating your skin from his.

You gasped when he pinched your nipples, taking the sensitive nubs with his thumb and forefinger, then gently rolled them between his digits. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva still connected your lips to Johnny’s, your half-lidded eyes looking up into his cerulean ones with a dazed look, your cheeks flushed.

And somehow you ended up on your bed, all three of you standing on your knees, with you sandwiched between the two boys. Simon’s lips were now claiming yours, his kisses slower, more passionate, following a totally different pace from Johnny’s, whose kisses were more boyish. “You taste so good, y/n,” he murmured. “Ain’t that right, Johnny?” He simply hummed, his hands busy with exploring every inch of your clothed body, itching to get you out of them as soon as possible.

You were already soaked, your juices seeping through the fabric of your panties and most likely your shorts, too. When you felt the Scot’s hand circle the side of your thigh, you thought he was going to give your needy cunt some release, but instead, it reached for Simon’s crotch. You were a bit confused, but when you heard Simon groan as he peppered your neck with kisses, you wondered if this was the first time the two boys were this intimate with each other. Johnny palmed Simon through his sweatpants, his bulge swelling beneath the fabric. His other hand snaked around your waist, expert fingers sliding under your panties, feeling how utterly soaked you were, coaxing a small whimper.

“Fuck, she’s all wet, Si,” he informed his friend, a smirk in his voice. “Ye should feel ‘er. Absolutely soaked.” He collected some of the slick between your folds, and you groaned, slightly frustrated when he removed his hand, only to see him shoving his fingers, coated in your juices, into Simon’s mouth. “Fucking hell.” He growled, sucking on Johnny’s digits. A shiver ran down your spine, wide eyes transfixed on the scene in front of you, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. “Let’s get these clothes off ‘er, yeah?” The blond suggested, and you couldn’t help but think: fucking finally.

It felt odd, feeling their skin against yours, their body heat seeping right into your bones, their hairs tickling every inch of you. The last the three of you were all naked was when you were little snotty kids getting washed by Mrs. MacTavish after spending the day jumping in puddles after a storm. Now you weren’t kids anymore. Their warmth enveloped you, calloused hands tracing the contours of your body, stealing gasps of pleasure.

You sat between Simon’s legs, your back against him, his hands keeping your thighs parted for Johnny, who crawled right in between, admiring your glistening heat, all bare and exposed for them. His breath fanned over your sensitive core, your engorged clit screaming for attention, sending a shiver up your spine. His tongue darted out, giving small kitten licks that made you whimper, your legs instinctively closing, but Simon prevented you from doing that, clicking his tongue. “Can’t let you do that, love.” He chided affectionately, his lips marking the side of your throat. Johnny lapped up the slick between your folds with a flat tongue, his nose brushing against your clit, making you throw your head back against his chest, eyes fluttering closed.

A long digit slid inside your weeping hole, meeting no resistance. Your back arched as you released a shuddering breath, your hips meeting’s Johnny’s movements as he added a second finger and started to pump at a moderate place, his lips closed in around your sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking and licking. Your sweet mewls filled the room, the bed slightly shaking since Johnny started to fist his own cock, too turned on by your sounds and your taste. Simon was quiet, content enough with just watching you receiving pleasure, and Johnny humping his own hand like the dog he was. He kneaded the supple flesh of your breasts, playing with your nipples, attentively watching what made you moan a little louder or squirm a little more.

Suddenly, Johnny pulled back, stimulating your clit with his thumb instead. You opened your eyes, seeing his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He stopped jerking off to put his hand beside you on the mattress, leaning forward, your mouth agape as he kissed Simon, the blond’s tongue lapping at your arousal on his friend’s face. The scene was so weirdly hot that it tipped you over the edge, your loud moans and gasps for air interrupting their makeout session, both boys looking down at you as you unravelled around the Scot’s fingers, sporting a cocky grin. “Look at ‘er Johnny, think she can still go?” Simon asked, Johnny’s cerulean eyes meeting the blond’s brown ones. “Got to, we just started.”

Simon manoeuvred you so he was lying under you, making you straddle his lap. Johnny’s hands were on your waist, lining your entrance to his rosy tip. “Guys,” you mumbled. “I never-” “‘S okay, y/n,” Simon whispered gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “We’re the ones you trust most in the world, right? We’re going to treat you so well.” Johnny hummed in agreement from behind, watching his friend’s cock tease your weeping hole. You weren’t a virgin, you had already had sex, some meaningless hookups, but never a threesome; your first one being with them surely wasn’t on this year’s bucket list.

You slowly lowered yourself on Simon’s cock, his girth stretching you out deliciously, coaxing a long, pleased moan as you descended, your walls hugging him perfectly. “Fuck,” Johnny groaned behind you. “Fuck…” you sighed, seeing Simon watching you with an amused look. “I know your little cunt would feel like the best on the fucking earth.” He praised gruffly, his hand coming to rest on the curve of your ass. He started to move his hips up into your cunt with deliberate strokes, his other hand tracing along your spine as your chest came to meet his, enjoying your soft sounds in his ear.

Then, you felt something moist hit your puckered hole, making you shiver, but Simon simply caressed your bottom, gently spreading you. “‘S alright, y/n. Johnny will be gentle. Right, Johnny?” He said, his tone turning stern, as if he was warning the brunette. “Aye, aye.” He replied, before he inserted a digit, your breath hitching at the unfamiliar sensation. “Johnny,” you pleaded breathlessly, Simon’s dick still gently sliding in and out of you. “Be gentle, or I swear to god I’m breaking that pretty little nose.”

“Ye think my nose is pretty? Ye’re flatterin’ me, y/n.” He chuckled, laughing even more when you snarled at him. You felt him spit again, then another finger followed, and he started to move both around to get you adjusted to the feeling. You were a moaning and squirming mess, the fullness you were feeling was confusing, you liked it but it also felt weird as fuck. “How you feelin’, beautiful?” Simon asked, kissing your cheek tenderly. You only managed a confused babble, already overwhelmed by having both your holes filled.

“Keep ‘er nice and spread, mate,” Johnny murmured, stroking his cock, getting ready to insert it. The blond obliged, your heartrate picking up as you felt him remove his fingers, only to start pushing in the head. It fucking hurt. You cried out softly, but Simon’s gentle thrusts were taking your mind off the pain. A string of curses fell from Johnny’s lips, your untouched hole squeezing him impossibly tight, no matter how hard you tried to focus on relaxing your muscles.

When the first two inches were in, Simon started to pick up his pace, fucking into you slightly faster, so you wouldn’t notice Johnny’s cock slowly filling you more and more. You were impossibly wet, Simon’s name leaving your lips like a prayer, already too drunk on the feeling to say something more articulated. So you didn’t even notice when Johnny bottomed out inside of you, his dick not as girthy as Simon’s, but still pretty long. When he started to move his hips as well, you suddenly remembered that he was in your ass, and that was your sanity’s undoing.

The two boys met each other at a shared pace, both thrusting into you as heat quickly coiled up in your stomach as the swirl of sensations brought you closer to the edge. Simon’s cock was drowning in your juices, creating the most obscene sounds known to man as he slammed into you. Your moans filled the room, the boy’s grunts only serving to edge you closer. Johnny was folded over you, as he sometimes kissed your neck, or Simon, or both of you at the same time.

You had never felt so connected to them, so safe, and so loved. You knew they would never hurt you, or let anything or anyone hurt you. They were your protectors, your knights in shining armour, who had only had eyes for you and you only for the longest time, yet it had somehow gone right over your head.

You were all close, so close, until the knot in your stomach snapped, your loud moan making the others follow suit right after. Warm cum spurted inside both your cunt and your ass, hips stuttering, balls pressed against you as they tried to reach as deep as possible inside you, filling you to the brim.

All three of you were completely out of it, trying to breathe normally again as the boys went soft inside you, deflating as they rode out their high. Once they had unsheathed themselves, you all tried to fit awkwardly onto your queen sized bed, Simon and Johnny being too large to fit on their own, so you were all comically squeezed together on the mattress. “How long have you guys been planning it?” You asked softly, half.lidded eyes gazing up to the ceiling. “Forever,” Johnny answered. “She said plannin’, not dreamin’ ya tit.” Simon retorted. You sniggered, shaking your head. “Well, either way, I think we can replicate it sometimes,” you murmured, your head turning left and right to look at both of them.

Nothing had changed. They were still your boys. 

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (10/15) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: As you heal, you're not alone. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 2,604 (this chapter, 24,863 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Apologies for the break we took for a few weeks here. 😳This chapter turned out a little longer than I expected, (please enter "that's what she said" joke of your choice here), so I hope that makes up a bit for the delay. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol @mirandastuckinthe80s

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9

Pressure on your chest brought you startling awake, flinging your left arm up as if to try and break free of a restraint. White hot pain burst from your shoulder down your bicep like a cord of fire trying to amputate your arm. You gave a strangled cry, managing to sit up and clutch at the various points of hurt as the agony gradually faded.

Out of the darkness, a now-familiar woman's voice said your rank and last name. "Are you all right? Do you need me to dispatch medical assistance?"

"No," you quickly said, automatically straightening your sleep-rumpled shirt. "I moved my arm wrong. Thanks, though."

"Of course," she returned, her tone kind.

"Are you, um, monitoring me?"

"Just for sounds of distress or pain. John was adamant that your privacy be respected as much as possible."

That made you smile slightly under the cover of the lack of light. "I hope they've given you something else to do other than to listen for me to say ouch."

"Not to worry, I keep busy."

You nodded even though she couldn't see it. Or maybe she could? Was she holed up in some ONI office, watching you with thermal signatures or some other sort of tech? "I appreciate it, Ms. Classified. Though I believe you gave me your name, didn't you? I'm sorry, I can't remember what it was."

"You were a little busy at the time," she demurred. "It's Cortana but I rather like 'Ms. Classified,' I have to say. It's like a nickname between friends, isn't it?"

"It is," you said. "And please feel free to use my first name. No need for friends to stand on formality."

"Thank you," she said and, after a slight pause, added your name as if it were an honor to do so.

Was she a Spartan, perhaps? Something about her careful manner reminded you of how John sometimes reacted to interpersonal things as if he hadn't ever dealt with them before and wanted desperately to be right in his response.

You wasn't sure if you should ask and while you were still wondering, she said goodbye with a sound like pixels vanishing, though there had been no hologram of her to see this time.

Your day was a lot more mundane after that. PT came by as Dr. Savannah had said they would, and you dutifully did the exercises with minimal grumbling and complaining. The ancient saying about medics being terrible patients was still said for a reason, after all, but you didn't want to be One Of Those if you could help it.

The therapist had brought you breakfast from the mess for after your session: the cold cereal MRE, typically called mush rarely edible, along with plain black coffee. She also told you that the next session would be tomorrow instead of later today, due to a scheduling conflict.

So that left you with a whole lot of day and very little to fill it.

You were scrolling through your padd, looking through old documents and messages, intending to clean up and organize things but, more often than not, ended up reminiscing on the past, on friends once part of your every day life now long gone, either transferred away or worse.

You discovered a folder full of sketches of various Mjolnir designs you'd done back before you'd decided for certain to begin training to be a Brokkr tech. Your interest in the Spartans and their armor had been a mere hobby, then.

You were far from a gifted artist but trying to capture the different iterations, the bulkier but classic shapes of the Mark V, the more streamlined Mark VI, had made for fun practice. You'd also tried out a few ideas of your own, such as "floating" pieces of armor to try and better protect the Spartans' joints without sacrificing mobility. The final image, though, had been a purely fanciful one: a fusion of Mjolnir and medieval, a literal Spartan in shining armor.

You couldn't help but chuckle. There was no number on the chest plate but it was clearly Master Chief to anybody who was familiar with his armor configuration. The patterning on his visor had a texture reminiscent of a knight's helm and the flare of his shield had a shape like the plume of a feather at the crest of his head. One arm was extended but incomplete: you hadn't decided whether to give him a BR or DMR or go for something like a broadsword or lance. Then you'd simply never come back to finish it and it had been forgotten in your drafts for all this time.

Tapping a fingertip contemplatively against your lip, you thought for a moment, then impulsively picked up your stylus and began to draw.

Gentle fingertips brushed against your hair and you woke to find John next to the bed.

"Sorry to bother you," he murmured, "but you looked uncomfortable."

The moment he said that, your neck began protesting the odd angle your head had slumped into.

"Well, that was a bad idea," you said plaintively, straightening up very slowly. Your entire body ached like you'd been moonlighting as a punching bag. Your padd slipped off your lap to the mattress, then bounced towards the edge, and John easily caught it on the fly.

You suddenly remembered what had been on it. The screen was dark but all it would take was a brush of a finger to activate it again and he'd see--

"What's this?" he said, orientating the padd right side up.

"That's... my poor attempt at artistry," you said, feeling heat blooming up your neck. You resisted the urge to snatch it from his hand and throw it to the floor yourself.

"It's not poor," he countered, studying it even more intently. "Not at all. I like it a lot, especially the detail here."

He tapped the image and the SPNKr rocket launcher you'd placed casually in the Spartan's hand, resting on the armored shoulder, expanded to better reveal the intricate filigree you'd spent a considerable amount of time adding to the large missile chamber.

"I mean, it's not practical, of course," you mumbled but his sincere appreciation lessened your embarrassment. "I wanted a medieval feel to a modern weapon."

"Do you have others?" he asked, handing the padd back to you.

You appreciated that he didn't just start flipping through the images. You swiped back to show him your other Mjolnir studies.

The very corner of his mouth twitched. "These are all mine, aren't they?"

"Hm, I suppose they are," you said in mock surprise. "It looks like I've had a favorite Spartan for a while now."

"Good," he said decisively, then glanced at you with a soft smile. "Could I send a copy of this to R&D?"

"Which one?" you asked, alarmed.

"The floating armor," he said, the smile growing a bit.

"Yeah, if you want," you said and forwarded the study to him. "I doubt I've thought of anything they haven't by now but I guess you never know."

"And could I have a copy of the other one, just for me?"

"Really?"

"Really," he confirmed.

You switched back to the medieval drawing, adding your signature with a flourish in the corner before forwarding that one as well.

The door chimed and he went to open it as if it were expected.

"Master Chief, sir!" the young private said, making a motion no doubt intended to be a salute that he couldn't complete because of the large and apparently heavy covered tray he was carrying.

"At ease," he said, taking the tray from him.

The private snapped a salute as crisp as if he were in the presence of Lord Hood himself, then kept standing in the open doorway, staring rather starstruck.

"Thank you, you're dismissed," John told him.

"If you or the Hero of the Pit need anything, let me know, sir," the marine said earnestly before backing away.

Once the door closed, you said, "That really is a terrible nickname."

"The Covenant call me 'Demon,'" John said, bringing the tray to the bed and setting it on the foot.

"'Demon' is badass," you countered. "Mine sounds like I fell in a hole and somehow managed to crawl back out."

"Crawling out of that hole wasn't a given," he said, "and you made sure nobody else was in there with you."

He lifted the cover on the tray, revealing two sizzling plates of food. The smell that hit you was divine.

Your voice dropped an entire octave. "Is that eggplant parmigiana?"

"I... think so? It's whatever was being served in the Spartan mess for lunch." His expression darkened. "You were supposed to get breakfast from there, too, but there was apparently some sort of mix-up. It's been dealt with."

You felt momentarily sorry for whoever had been on the receiving end of being dealt with. "I can't eat Spartan portions."

"You actually can because it so happens that I can calculate how many calories a Brokkr mechanic-slash-medic needs in order to heal properly." He held that with a serious expression for a moment, then winked. "And I also asked Dr. Savannah about it. She said, and I quote, 'Tell her it's fine to live a little.'"

"Oh, well, if it's doctor's orders..." you trailed off with a grin.

He left to get a small table and chair for himself since there was only the one lap tray and you took the opportunity to hit the head, thinking you'd be settled back in before he returned. As it turned out, you either greatly underestimated how far he had to go to find what he was looking for or, more likely, had greatly overestimated how quickly you could move.

Your left arm wanted to draw up to your torso from the way your damaged shoulder muscle was currently being foreshortened. Raising it even close to 45 degrees made it feel like it was being ripped off of your body. You took a couple of deep breaths, forcing it straight down to your side, and gritted your teeth though the pain as you returned to the main room.

John had already finished setting up the portable table and turned, his expression going almost comically aghast. "Should I call somebody? What can I do? I can carry you or--"

"No, it's fine," you told him. "I just have to work through it."

He hovered next to you as you made the few, torturous step back to the bed, his worry a palpable thing. Your bad knee buckled and he caught your arm -- fortunately, the right one -- to keep you from going down. His fingers hit a bruise hidden under your sleeve but you managed to not react.

The stricken look he gave you meant he'd seen the reaction anyway.

"There we go," you said, trying to sound breezy but the result was more winded than anything as you propped up against the headboard. "I'm ready for lunch. Are you? Lunch sounds great right about now."

He seemed at a loss as to what to do. You gingerly reached out and wrapped your fingers around his.

"I'm okay," you said softly. "I'm healing on schedule and it could've been much worse."

He nodded shortly, very, very carefully folding his other hand over yours. With a brief glance away, he nodded a final time as if agreeing to something you couldn't hear and then exhaled purposefully, affecting a lighter tone. "Well, let's see how that eggplant parmigiana is, then, hm?"

Even though physical therapy wasn't scheduled again until tomorrow, you went ahead and did the exercises anyway. Not only did it give you something to do after John left, but you were even more inspired to try to regain your strength as soon as possible.

Since you were alone, you felt free to swear your way more and more creatively through the entire session and only after the fact did you worry that maybe you had accidentally taught Cortana some new words and phrases.

Nah, you thought. Surely, she's not stuck sitting at some console all day and night, listening for me to need something, right?

You almost asked it out loud, just to see if she was listening, but decided against it. You didn't want to imagine she'd been instructed to keep her earpiece in to monitor you even when she took a meal or bathroom break. Or that maybe she never even actually got to go off-duty at all. It hadn't escaped your attention that John apparently didn't trust anybody else to provide your erstwhile overwatch.

You ate your dinner when it arrived, a very delicious chicken gumbo, then turned in early, since sleep was also an important factor in healing.

But your sleep was restless, the aches in your body keeping you from getting comfortable, and then when you did doze off, your mind kept taking you back to those moments when you were trapped. A couple of times, you found yourself jolting awake, John's name on your lips. You wondered if he was on base, asleep in the Spartan quarters. You'd assumed he would come back if he were here but you hadn't actually asked him to. It was his room, though, so wouldn't he...?

Try to get some sleep, that's the best thing right now. You'll feel stronger tomorrow, you silently instructed yourself, trying to find a comfortable position.

The next time you woke, your heart was thundering in your ears and you made a small panicked noise.

The lights abruptly came up to a quarter and you looked around wildly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

John sat up from where he was stretched out over on the couch and you instinctively reached for him. He was there almost as if appearing by magic, letting you grip his hand as he leaned over you.

You were tangled in the covers and struggled to free yourself. He carefully extricated you with his free hand.

"Were you having a nightmare?" he asked and you nodded.

"I- I didn't know you were here," you said, stumbling over the words. "Why are you on the couch? You could share. I'd- I'd like you to."

He got that slightly stricken look again. "I'm heavy. I'll hurt you by moving around. I can't... I can't cause you more pain. I'm right here, though."

You understood what he meant but it still stung a bit like rejection. You normally would've let him go, would've tried to accept it gracefully, but the phantom weight on your chest changed the words on your tongue.

Your voice emerged small and compressed. "I need you, John."

The words clearly hit him like a plasma bolt to the chest and his fingers closed gently around yours.

"All right," he finally said. "I'll be careful."

It took a few minutes but eventually you were in his arms, turned on your right side with your injured left arm resting on his chest, your head tucked into the curve of his neck. All of the movement did hurt but you absolutely didn't care; all that was important was that he was here, you could hear his heart beneath your ear, could feel his warmth seeping into all of your pains and soothing them.

"Thank you," you murmured into the softness of his shirt.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, kissing the top of your head and lightly brushing his fingers across the hand you had on his sternum.

You were almost asleep when you thought, but weren't completely sure, that he also quietly said, "I need you, too."