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sweetbans29 · 5 months ago

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Rules - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Calrk x Reader

Summary: You have one rule and Caitlin tries to break it (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, smitten CC, slightly suggestive (if you squint), FLUFF

Word Count: 2.5k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I don't know how I feel about my writing in this one.

Junior year. You're halfway through your college career and have made the decision to enter into the transfer portal. The decision was made after a really messy situation on your team that was so bad it had you moving schools.

It turned out to be for the better as you are now a Hawkeye. You were quickly picked up by Coach Bluder and the Hawkeyes once you entered the portal. It was a win-win considering they were trying to recruit you during high school but you ultimately decided to go to a school in Connecticut.

Your move was seamless. Moving into Iowa was made easy thanks to your roommate, Kate. You had met her a few times before and really admire her leadership both on and off the court. She helped you get settled in and even showed you around campus. It was really nice having someone who could help you get your footing.

It's a Tuesday morning when you first step foot into Carver for the first training day of the summer. It had been a fairly quick turnaround from talking to your old coach, moving, and jumping into training. You were honestly grateful for it, it gave you less time to think about the events of the previous season.

Kate's by your side as you walk into the locker room to get ready for practice. She introduces you to a few of the girls before you even step foot on the court. One person you haven't met but were really looking forward to meeting is the one and only Caitlin Clark. You have been watching her game since both of your freshman years and believe that you would work really well together on the court. You don't see her in the locker room but know you'll be seeing her soon. Once you're ready, you make your way out to court and start talking with some of the coaching staff.

Caitlin comes running into the locker room, throwing everything she owns into her locker as she quickly throws her practice jersey on and runs to catch up with Kate.

"Just on time, speedy," Kate teases her best friend. "Your shirt's backward too."

Caitlin curses as she quickly changes it to the right direction as she walks onto the court. The second her head pops through her shirt, she sees you.

Her first impression is that you are gorgeous. You stand there with a natural confidence as a smile peaks through during your conversation. She watches how your body language is open and welcoming, the complete opposite of what she would be in a new team.

"As you all know, we have a few people to introduce," Coach Bluder says to get the ball rolling. "Starting with our incoming freshmen - Taylor, Jada, and Hannah."

Everyone welcomes them.

"We also have a transfer," Coach says as she introduces you and where you transferred from. You give a smile and wave.

Caitlin feels like she is going to pass out - when you smile at the team, you look directly at her.

"Can't wait to get to know all of you," you say. Your voice is like music to Cait's ears.

Practice begins and it being the first summer training is filled with getting the team familiar with each other. It is mostly for the freshman, you remember your freshman year and how exciting but terrifying starting summer training was. You instantly connect with Jada and Hannah. You find them to be the sweetest human beings.

Meanwhile, Caitlin can't seem to take her eyes off you.

"I'm worried your eyes are going to fall out of your head," Kate bumps Caitlin's arm. Caitlin's head whips around.

"Hmm, what did you say?" Caitlin says reluctantly looking away from you.

"Care to be any more obvious?" Kate says with a laugh.

"I don't know what you mean," Caitlin says now looking down at her shoes.

"Bro, you are too obvious," Kate pushes Caitlin. "You can at least keep it in your pants - you just met the girl."

"Shut it," Caitlin warns and pushes Kate back. She straightens up when she sees you walking over to them.

"Hi," you say and Caitlin is ready to fall to her knees. She hopes you don't notice how they buckle a little under your gaze, Kate for sure notices though.

"Hey," Caitlin says trying her hardest to sound normal.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you ever since the transfer got finalized," you say as you extend your hand to shake hers.

Caitlin almost blacks out. The most beautiful girl she has ever laid eyes on knows who she is and was actually waiting to meet her - is this a dream? All she can do is smile like a little schoolgirl and stare at you. Kate bumps her arm signaling to her that you are standing there sort of awkwardly waiting with your hand out waiting to shake hers. Caitlin wipes her hands on her shorts and then goes to shake your hand. You don't stop smiling.

Caitlin on the other hand could facepalm at how dorky she is being right now.

The rest of practice goes pretty smoothly - aside from Cait's staring. Kate has to nudge the girl several times because her staring became a little too obvious - at least to everyone except you.

After practice, Caitlin practically begs Kate to let her come over, which she does. She also invites the rest of the team.Caitlin doesn't care because all she can think about is getting to know you more.

The team is over at your apartment and decided it would be fun to do some baking and just hang out. You learn Caitlin can make the best chocolate cookies known to man.

"Caitlin, these are the best chocolate chip cookies I have ever had," you say as your eyes roll to the back of your head and a moan escapes your lips. The girls laugh and Caitlin has to grip the counter at the sight and sound of you. If it was up to her, she would have you pushed up against the wall doing anything and everything she could to get you to make that sound again.

You finish the cookie and go for a second, then a third.

"I am going to need you here all the time to make these for me," you say to Caitlin as she is putting in the last batch.

"Oh, she wouldn't mind that at all," Kate says and Caitlin bumps her, signaling for her to shut up.

"Let me grab your number and you can call me anytime for cookies," Caitlin says passing you her phone. The two of you exchange numbers and Caitlin is already planning on how she can ask you out or at least get you one on one.

A few weeks pass and school begins. Caitlin feels like she has fallen even more in love with you. She is over at your apartment all the time. You never minded because you knew how close of friends Caitlin was to Kate. You have also grown to really enjoy her company.

The three of you are all having a movie night when relationships are brought up for the first time.

It is halfway through the movie when Caitlin lets her thoughts get the best of her.

"So why did you transfer to Iowa?" Caitlin asks. You were sort of taken by surprise but knew the question was going to come sooner or later.

"Well, long story short, it just wasn't a good fit. I didn't really fit into their system well," you say trying to be as vague as possible.

"I heard something about you dating someone on your team, is that true?" Kate asked with the purest intentions.

As much as you wish things didn't get around, you knew that would be difficult with who you were involved with, the media ate her up.

"Ya," you say ready to brave the conversation.

Caitlin had been hanging on to every word.

"I heard it didn't end super well..." Kate also added.

You nod.

"Ya, I dated one of the girls on my team. Everything was great until it wasn't, ya know? I wasn't enough for them and they sought that in someone else while we were still together. When things ended, it changed the whole dynamic. People chose sides and it wasn't mine," you say looking down.

Caitlin can't help but put her hand on your knee and give it an encouraging squeeze.

"I didn't belong there anymore and they made it known and that's when I decided to enter the transfer portal. It sucks how it all happened but I've learned a lot," you say trying to stay optimistic about it. "Never again will I date someone I am on the same team with."

Kate gauges Caitlin's reaction which is a mix of things.

"Well, never say never," Kate says with a little laugh, trying to get Caitlin's mood back to one that isn't completely crushed.

You laugh.

"I mean that I have one rule: don't date a teammate," you say. "It's for the better - keeping relationships on the team light and never too intense to the point where someone has to pick up and leave."

When you say the last part, you feel a pain rise up in your chest.

"But all that is really heavy, let's get back to the movie," you say with a smile.

The three of you finish watching the movie. You are locked back into the film but Caitlin is not. Kate can practically see the steam coming out from Caitlin's ears at how fast her brain is thinking.

Caitlin spent the rest of the movie figuring out how she can show you that you're wrong. That it can be done and that you and her would be perfect together. That she would never break your heart, couldn't even think about it because of the wonderful person you are. That even with your stupid rule, Caitlin sees you as worth it and will do everything in her power to show you.

Over the next few weeks, Caitlin makes it a point to show you that she is there. The two of you are always hanging out with one another. She makes sure that she starts with the little things, like remembering all the things you like and don't like. She caters to you in a way that believes you deserve to be cared for. She goes above and beyond to prove that she will fight for you and love you in a way that no one else can or ever will. So much so that you feel you need to bring it up.

"Hey, Cait?" You ask pulling her aside after practice one day. Pulling aside is kind of a stretch as she had already planned for the two of you to go get massages as a little reward for all of your hard work.

"What's up?" She says with a smile.

You don't really know where to start because as obvious as it has been, you may be reading too far into her actions.

"I don't really know how to say this, but you have been doing a lot for me recently and I genuinely love it - I feel like our friendship has grown exponentially and some of it may be overstepping the friendship line. You do remember that I don't date teammates...right?" When you said it, you immediately wish you would have approached it differently.

Caitlin knew this was going to come and had already thought through her answer.

"I know," she says. You nod at her simple response thinking that was all she would say but she continues. "I know, but I am going to prove to you that you're wrong."

You are about to protest but she stops you.

"I am going to show you that the guard you put up isn't needed with me because when I first saw you, I knew. I knew that I would never let you go. You might not have known but I knew. And I will use every day to show you that you don't need to be afraid because I am not like her," Caitlin says and takes your hand. "You are worth more than everything and I am willing to show you that if you let me. Please let me."

You stood there terrified. Terrified that this would all end up the same way. But there was something in her eye - something that wasn't there in the last person who held your heart.

"Caitlin, I can't," you say wanting so badly to say okay and let her show you there is so much more there is to love than what you had experienced. You want Caitlin to prove you wrong and show you that there are good people out there and that you are worthy of a timeless love. But you simply can't.

You expected Cait to be defeated and walk away. Not to say you weren't worth it but getting to know Caitlin and how wonderful of a person she is, she deserves someone who is going to love her as much as she loves them.

She nods.

"I am not going to stop showing you how much love you deserve," she starts. "How someone can love you even in your flaws and stick around to show you that you are worthy. Worthy of love and worthy of someone who makes every day better than the last. And I am willing to do that, I am going to show you that it is going to be us. That we would be great together because I know that we will be. That it would only grow our team because the connection would be stronger. Forget the team dynamic because baby, you and I would carry this team wherever we want to go. Then when we are done here - we will go where the wind takes us and do amazing things there because it would be you and me against the world."

At this point, Caitlin has your face in her hands as her thumbs swipe across your cheeks dissolving the tears that started to fall.

"Baby, your fear is real, but so am I. And I am standing right in front of you ready to show you that I can take your fear and turn it into something beautiful." Caitlin says as she places her forehead on yours, eyes closing. Your eyes close as the tears continue to fall.

You are terrified. The last time you trusted someone like you were about to trust Caitlin it ended up in flames. But there was something in you telling you to jump. Jump knowing that the girl in front of you will catch you and continue to catch you every day.

You lean in and press your salty lips to hers. The kiss is desperate. Desperate for her to do exactly what you believe she would - catch you.

She kissed you back with the same force but instead of desperation, it was full of love. Caitlin got her answer in that kiss. She understood the leap you were taking and was ready to be everything for you.

That kiss was more than a kiss. It was a promise.

AN: Crazy...but let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark concepts #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #iowa hawkeyes #iowa wbb

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evilminji · 8 months ago

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You know what I would kill to see?

Nedzu, in the Zone.

He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.

Whoops. Four year old with portals.

In a crowd.

Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.

Starts throwing the word "villian" around.

Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.

The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.

He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.

And to think, all he wanted was some tea.

How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.

He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.

The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.

There was no way to catch him in time.

He was already gone.

Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.

In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!

And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"

Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?

All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"

He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.

Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!

Then?? He just... shows back up to work.

How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori

#dp x bnha #dp x mha #minji's writing #nedzus adventure au

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luveline · 7 months ago

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Hi I have a request for zombie Steve! I’d love to hear the story of how they met 🫶🏻

zombie!au —You rescue Steve at the start of the end of the world. fem, 2.4k

The sound of them makes your throat close up. Fear like a knife held too tight in unwilling hands, the heat. It’s the hottest summer Hawkins’ has had for years, and you’re overdressed. You couldn’t fit your favourite hoodie in your bag so you wore it but it doesn’t matter, you lost your bag somewhere in the school gymnasium. You’re lucky you didn’t lose your leg when that thing grabbed you. What were they calling them on the radio? Something starting with G.

Those… things, they can kill people. You saw it just ten minutes ago, your algebra teacher turned to a creature, Maisie Lewinsky from your homeroom stained with gore under her hands.

You press the back of your hand to your mouth to stifle a hot gasp. What are you supposed to do now? The Hawkins station said everyone would be waiting here, a repeat radio message, but by the time you heard it the sun was going down and there was nobody left. No cars, no promised convoy, nobody.

You’re the last living girl left in Hawkins.

You’re gonna die in here.

Terrified of breathing to loud but spooked that staying will seal your fate, you lift yourself up from the floor of the science lab to peer over a high table. There’s no signs of life. No signs of the dead, either. You’d thought this might be a good place to hide, the thick fire door unbreakable, but you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark soon.

You wish you had your stuff. They’ve for sure taken anything worth eating from the cafeteria kitchens and Bradley’s has been empty for days. You aren’t sure where your next meal is coming from. Fuck, you’re already dead—

“Fuck!” a voice echoes, boyish and terrified from somewhere outside of the door. “Fuck! Get the fuck away from me, holy shit!”

He sounds scared but firm at the same time. Your own fear is like the insufferable heat, riding the back of your neck as you creep toward the door. There’s gotta be more of them outside. That must be why whoever it is that’s shouting sounds so depeserate. But fuck, there’s relief too. There’s someone still here.

“Fuck! Jesus, help me!”

“Okay,” you say unsurely.

You wedge open the door to the science lab and poke your head out cautiously. There’s a dull thudding sound somewhere to the left, metallic screeching further down, but the panicked shouting (and now panicked yelping) is coming from outside.

You look around for a weapon. There’s nothing to take.

“Holy fuck I do not wanna die!”

Me neither, you think, sniffling back your worried tears. You don’t wanna die, you just want your bed. You want to be home, and safe, but there’s no one to look after you anymore, and you can’t just let people die ‘cos you’re scared. You run from the science lab to the fire escape door full pelt, arm in sudden hot pain at the collision, but the door gives and swings hard into the adjourning wall. You look around frantically for the source of the shouting as it bounces off of the exterior walls of the school and the stone floor of the courtyard, heart suddenly afloat in your chest.

“Hello?” you shout. “I’m here, I’m–”

“What the fuck!”

It’s said with such horrified anger that you give pause, even as your hands shake, cold sweat wetting your lip and colder in the rare afternoon breeze. You dart toward the shouting a moment later, and maybe you’re too late, you can’t save anybody, your shoes pinch as you race down the few concrete steps that lead to the parking lot.

Snarling curdles the air. Your neck snaps left, away from the cars and open territory and toward the subject of your nightmares these last few days. You’ve seen glimpses of these things, always too scared to stay and help, always too stupid, too weak, and seeing them now cements it.

A group of geeks grab at a boy where he hangs from the bars of a metal staircase leading up to the roof of the building. You run toward it on instinct but stop before they hear you, eyes wide. His hands are white-knuckled, his hair falling down into his face, but you know who it is now you’re close enough to see him. You could recognise Steve Harrington a thousand feet away.

“Hey!” you shout. “Hey! Over here!”

Why did you say that? Why are you yelling? The geeks turn their heads to easier pray and you’re done for —they start to run. You stumble back in terror.

“My bag! Get my bag, get the knife!” Steve shouts.

You swing yourself around in a huge circle. There, further into the lot, lies a bag. Further past it lies a wooden baseball bat spiked with fifty silver nails.

You sprint past the bag to the bat and try to grab it while you’re still running, knees grazing hot white fire on the tarmac and hands like acid as you force yourself up again, running further, putting space between you and the too fast footsteps that follow. When you’re sure you’ll have room you swing to see them, their maws dripping gore over white buttoned shirts and once prim blouses. There must be ten of them at least. Only two stay to snap their jaws at Steve Harrington where he attempts to climb up the stairs from the bottom, his foot dangerously close to bloodied teeth.

You pull the bat back as the first of the creatures reaches you. With a grunt more terror than exertion, you force the bat forward, wood arcing through the air, shiny nails catching the light of the setting sun and slamming downward into flesh.

Your eyes flare as wide as they’ve ever been. The geek stops cold and drops, your strangling grip on the bat forcing it up out of the mash of his brains. Another geek leaps over him as you scramble back.

“Run!” Steve yells from the stairs, stress stretching his voice thin and high. “Run away!”

You drop the bat and sprint for your life. Down into the parking lot, past a handful of locked cars and suitcases discarded. This must’ve been where everybody was before they left. There couldn’t have been room. Boxes and trophies, books, magazines and toys, all manner of possessions string like a breadcrumb trail down the road that you have to avoid. You run until your calves are burning over the road that will lead toward Hawkins middle, where you throw yourself into the woods, and hope without any real hope that they’re empty.

Grass folds under your feet. Your panting is as loud as your heart.

When the only shallow breathing you can hear is your own, you circle back to the High School, sticking to the shadows so as not to attract any more attention. A few geeks have collected to join the two you’d left behind, and for a second you’re sure Steve’s succumbed to fatigue and fallen into their blackened clutches, but you spot him balancing dangerously on a handrail between two sets of stairs, leg pulled back in preparation to kick any opposition away.

You sweep up the bat and try to make a plan. You were never going to be able to handle that many people before, not with their new mutations, but you can handle four. Maybe. Probably not.

“Steve, what do I do?” you call. “You have to tell me what to do.”

“You came back!” He swears and shimmies further up the railing as one of his attackers finally manages to traverse the blocked up staircase. “I don’t know what to do! Just hit at them until they die!”

It’s easy for him to say. They’re gruesome creatures, the faces of people you once knew but none of their humanity. They can run as fast as any person can. A human bite has alarming force behind it. The voice on the radio warned you that what you’re trying to do is a bad idea, and yet. You roll the bat in your hand. Your chest aches as hard as your dry throat.

The first geek goes down easy. Unsuspecting, you manage to whack it in the back of the head hard and break through soft skull. The second turns to see you just as you’re lifting the bat again, and it runs hard into it as it comes down, killing itself.

The third is where things get tricky.

“Fuck,” you mumble, lifting your bat to find a sloughing of cartilage and tissue stuck between the spines. “Oh, fuck,” you moan.

“Be careful!” Steve shouts.

You step back and trip, nearly falling. “Stay away from me!”

It snarls in response. Eyes clouded, the geek is a little slower than the others, and it follows you sluggishly away from Steve. The fourth remains, snapping, but you can’t keep watch.

“Stay away from me!” you warn again.

Steve swears on the railing, his cursing followed by a wet thunk.

The geek doesn’t listen, it bites.

You pull your arms to the side, hands wrapped tight around the base of the bat and ready to swing. With a huge, aching cry, you swing the bat to the side and knock the nails clean into its cheek.

It doesn’t die.

Fuck fuck fuck! You throw yourself to the floor by the geek’s feet and out of its reach, on knees, on your feet again, scrambling toward Steve’s bag. You glance over your shoulder as your knees slam down hard into the floor, never so scared in your life, horrified as the bat stays stuck between tendons and the geek takes a running jump toward you.

You pull the knife from Steve’s bag and hold it out in front of you, squeezing your eyes closed in terror.

“Fuck, hey!”

You scream as the weight of the geek lands on top of you. You scream like it’s taking bites of you, until your throat burns and there’s no sound left to make and you choke on it instead. A short, sharp sound.

Then the weight is pulled off of you. Someone lets out a massive gasp.

“Did it get you?”

You blink your eyes open against the glaring white sun where it meets the horizon. If you’re crying, it’s your business, water on your cheek and a dizzy hot feeling everywhere else.

Steve Harrington looks at you like you’re a ghost. “Did it get you? Are you okay?”

You look at your hand and the knife —his knife— where it rests on the tarmac. “I don’t think so. How do you know?”

“They bite! Did it bite you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Because I’m not exactly uninjured, Steve!”

He frowns at you. Well, he glares. “You’d know if it bit you. Don’t be dense.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re telling me you don’t know what a bite feels like?”

“Some of us had homework.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Well, yeah. It was supposed to be hilarious.

You look around the parking lot and the school courtyard for any outliers, but the school seems well and truly abandoned now. You can’t hear anymore huffing or screeching, no crying, not even the sound of a radio. Everyone’s been playing them nonstop for weeks, waiting for days like today. Suddenly the raptures here, and you aren’t part of the rescue.

But you saved Steve Harrington, at least. You’re accruing some good karma.

Steve doesn’t hold his hand out, he just grabs you under the arms and pulls you up into a standing position. You’re surprised he can do it, you aren’t light, but you remember his last skins game in the gymnasium and nod to yourself. Of course he can pick you up. Plus, you help, using your legs despite their stiffness to brace yourself on the ground.

“Doesn’t look like it bit you,” he says, quieter now, his hands sliding down to yours briefly before he stands back. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought this was the rendezvous point. I mean, it was, right? We missed it.”

“We missed it.”

“How’d you get here?” you ask.

“Bike. Car chose the worst possible time in the world to die. Not that I could’ve got gas.” He eyes you hopefully. “Tell me you drove here.”

“I biked too, but it’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Tire popped.”

Steve rubs his eyebrows. His hands are clean where yours are caked. You stand unable to mask your heavy breathing now, and when you reach for him to steady yourself, he doesn’t move away.

“Sorry,” you mumble, licking your lips. You’re a map of little pains. “Are you okay?”

Steve’s hand reaches back to cover yours like he’s going to pull it off, though he doesn’t. “Are you alone?” he asks.

You wince. “Yeah.”

“Where’s your stuff?”

“I lost it.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know.” Your knees hurt. “It’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s a question. You’re immediately thankful to have found him, because he’s a real living person, and you don’t think you can do this alone. You don’t mean to force him, but you need to know what he’s doing and soon.

“…Better come with me, then,” he says finally.

Steve walks out of your grasp, grabbing up his bag which you’d unfortunately ripped open and shoving the spilled contents back inside. He doesn’t stop to zip it closed, walking straight in the direction of the school.

“Where are we going?”

“Same place as everybody else.” You stumble. Steve, reluctant, frowning hard enough to etch a new wrinkle, holds out his hand to catch you by the elbow. “Where did you think?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, half-indignant.

“You ask a lot of stupid questions, you know that?” He looks you up and down. “How’d you do that?” He points at your bleeding knees.

“I ask stupid questions?”

He grabs the bat from near the felled geek and stands tall. “Jesus. Let’s go find a car.”

It’s not as easy as his tone might suggest. You don’t find a car, you never do, and you never stop asking him obvious questions, but Steve says thank you for saving him eventually (nearly an entire year later, with a hand on your cheek).

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

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thecrabbybarista · 3 months ago

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We should talk about The Lords in Black I'm gonna do that right now because I wanna talk about their trope subversion and symbolism and shit.

So obviously The Lords in Black are a subversion of Cosmic/Eldritch horror and I'm gonna explain how using an ant metaphor

So the classic ant metaphor for cosmic horror is to imagine that you're an ant encountering a piece of human technology, right? I believe it's usually a circuit board. The whole point is you're witnessing something deeply incomprehensible and unfamiliar.

The ant metaphor for the Lords in Black is: imagine you're an ant and a teenager starts burning you with a magnifying glass.

It's still incomprehensible, but not in the way the complexities of a circuit board is. If you were suddenly stricken by a scalding beam of light, the only way you could rationalize that is that it was an act of a god. You and your ant colony would invent and fear this god.

The Lords in Black each represent a kind of strange and inscrutable cruelty that the modern world offers, the cursed lasers that cut into our souls, from places we have no power over.

Wiggly is obviously the idol of capitalism. Animalistic desperation, commodity fetishization, and the exchange of money, products, and emotions. All of the things that the other Lords represent stem from elements of capitalism, hence why Wiggly is THE Lord in Black, the leader of his brothers. What Wiggly offers will never be enough. He is what leaves you always unsatisfied.

Nibbly is the idol of the consumption of human beings as products. Obsession with self image and presentability, trends of all kinds, and the beauty and fitness industries. People in the modern age are desperate to be consumable, and some would go to any lengths to do so. This is an attitude that especially impacts women, who feel that they need to wear make up every day just to earn respect. And when we feel the need to change to be respectable, the need to look appealing and to be consumable, the bourgeois eat well. Our quest to look special makes us like any other customer, filling. It's no mistake that the two leads of Honey Queen are women desperate to be noticed and respected. It makes them all the more eager to be eaten.

Tinky is the idol of infinity and repetition. Dead end jobs, middle class suburbia, and the inability to escape one's circumstances. It's no coincidence that the first time we see Tinky is at a wedding, a ceremony dedicated to eternal commitment, or that he's associated with CCRP, a company in which most of the workers do useless busywork all day. When you look at the life you have ahead of you, it can feel crushing. Will you ever have a real career to be proud of, or will you be stuck at this job until you die? Will you ever not struggle to make rent? Will you really love your spouse forever? What if you don't? Isn't it just easier to continue the routine than to address the problem? After Ted is driven to insanity by the Bastard's Box, after he discovers that he can't escape the person he's become, he becomes homeless, one of the most terrifying eternities a person can find themselves in, fully dependent on random acts of kindness to survive while your situation drives you further into insanity.

Blinky is the idol of the panopticon. Gossip, public drama, and unwanted attention. One of the first things Blinky does on screen is sexually objectify a girl who's fresh out of high school, and this plainly displays a consequence of living in a content driven world. There is constant scrutiny and interpretation given to your every action. At any moment, you could have over a thousand eyes on you, whether you want them there or not. The panopticon we live in captures us in moments of time, and turns the person we were in that moment into an object deserving anger, embarrassment, lust, admiration, judgement, or anything else a watcher might assign. But Blinky also targets another fear, the fear that we feel when we can't see the danger, and cannot protect ourselves or those we love. Alice's anxiety that Deb might cheat on her when she's not around are made manifest in Watcher World, and Bill's frustration at not being let into Alice's life are used against the family. We are inclined to both want and fear the panopticon. We hide, and we seek, and we expose.

Pokey is the idol of tyranny. Complacency, sedation, and obedience. The world revolves around the few and uses the many in service of this. We are all expected to fill some role in service to the rich, to work for a corporation and to buy the products of those corporations, and when we cannot fill these roles we are at risk of starving, or being kicked out of our homes. We must join them in their quest for profit, or die. But we must also accept their pacifiers or we will be driven insane. We must choose between complacency or despair in confronting our place in the world as a pawn, as an ant in the colony. Isn't it easier to accept the comforting lies? Your job is important. Corporations give people what they want. People in power deserve their power. People in power are using it well. We are happy. America is great.

These are the magnifying glasses that are being used to torment us, that we cannot make reason out of, that we've made dark gods out of. But this isn't the first time humanity has encountered scorching light from the heavens. When the people of ancient Greece witnessed burning rods of light, falling viciously from the heavens, they invented Zeus.

But we know where lightning comes from now. We know the science behind electricity and its place in the world. We know what keeps lightning away and what attracts it. We can protect ourselves from it.

But there's an important difference. Lightning is natural. It's existed long before we have and it will continue when we're gone.

The unorthodox cruelty of being alive today is not natural. We cannot logic our way into surviving it because it does not operate under a sound logic. But we can make things a little more bearable by focusing on what is sound, understandable and natural.

There is humanity. There are families friends and lovers who would go to the ends of earth to protect each other. As long as we have this humanity, we have hope.

That's why Miss Holloway's deal with the Lords erases her from living memory after her temporary deaths. To have the powers that she does she gave away the power most important to have under the Lord's rule: human connection. The only real thing we have left.

Alice and Bill escaped Blinky's manipulation through the love they have for each other

Emma survived the longest out of any character in tgwdlm because of the genuine hope Paul gave her of a better future

Lex snapped Tom out of Wiggly's control by reminding him of what his son really means to him

Ted couldn't escape Tinky's plan for him because he was too jaded to make a genuine connection with a woman.

Linda was eaten by Nibbly because she didn't have a loving connection with her father, because her father always made her believe that she was never good enough, because this mindset led her to take for granted the connections she did have in her life.

The world no longer cares about us. We have to care for each other. It's the only thing we have left

#starkid #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time #npmd #hatchetfield #pokotho #bliklotep #tnoy karaxis #nibblenephim #wiggog y'wrath

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neil-gaiman · 9 months ago

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Hi Mr Gaiman, I hope your day is going well.

I can't say I'm looking for anything other than the comfort of talking to someone I don't know, and I apologize that for some unknown reason you are the only 'wiser older being' I can think of other than God. I'm 16, and because of forces outside of my control, I don't know if i can continue living normally. My family is loving, I am safe in my home, I currently have it better than most of the people in my country, I am not suicidal, but I'm terribly scared. Every time I watch the news or see my parents/teachers talk to each other, I feel this unexplained sensation that my life is getting shorter and shorter.

Mr. gaiman, I feel like I'll never get to finish high school. I'll never get to visit my grandparents' old house since the town evacuated. My aunt and her family are still up in the north, they send us videos every time they see rockets in the sky, and I debate sending 'goodbye' and 'I love you' one more time just incase. I'm terrified for them, for the people under the rubbles of their homes, for the people in foreign places that still don't know if they'll live, for the kids with no parents, for parents with no kids. I remember being nervous to talk to my friends about what we'll do when we go to the army in a few years, but as long as we keep in touch we're sure we'll be alright. I remember what I wanted to be when I'll grow up, I wanted to move, get an apartment in Porto Fino or go to meet my uncles in Viana, and translate books.

I remember it was the last few days of holiday vacation before it started, I remember it was still warm outside, and I still possessed the privilege to live.

Mr. gaiman, these days I'm learning that while I get to be luckier than most by simply being alive, I will always feel just one alarm sound away from sharing the same fate of my great-grandparents. From a young age I've seen black and white pictures of them, and so many others, and was told: 'they were here, they were alive, and you get to live the dream they died for'. I don't want to die on unfulfilled dreams.

I apologize for making you deal with this, but I want to be remembered by someone from outside who will get to live longer than me, or so I hope.

I'm 16 and a half. My brother just turned 11. I'm about to fail the test I have tomorrow. My tattoo just fully healed - the flowers symbolize undying love. I learned English on my own. I collect records with my dad. I study American history. I love your books. I bake when I feel down. I am alive. I if I die I hope it will be in a bomb shelter.

All I can wish you now is luck, good fortune, and the hope that you and your loved ones survive and that the world heals. I hope your generation helps heal the mess that previous generations have left you in.

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babywriter · 1 year ago

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Janine liked to go to school diapered. It turned her on. It also took quite a bit of courage to do so as she was terrified anybody would find out her little secret. There had been a few close calls, but by now Janine had grown comfortable with her choice of underwear. She had also grown complacent and less worried about hiding it. So what if someone she didn’t know would see the waistband of a medical diaper? This was college and she was free. It did become more problematic when someone she did know ended up seeing it.

While Janine was picking her books up, she carelessly showed the tip of her padded underwear to Brenda. Brenda was not a friend. In High School, she had been a mean girl who had gleefully spread rumors about Janine. Of course, Brenda bursted out laughing when she saw the diaper.

“Oh my god. This is-WOW. You are such a baby, Janine.” A little too loud perhaps as people wondered what was going on. Janine looked troubled when she stood up.

“What?” she asked.

“Oh I think we need to talk.” said Brenda. She grabbed Janine’s hand and led her out of the class.

“What are you doing? Let me go.” Janine remained steadfastly calm as she didn’t want to provoke the other girl.

“I know what I saw.” said Brenda. “You didn’t need diapers before.”

“So what if I didn’t?”

“I’m just saying. It would be a shame if others found out…”

“Please don’t.” asked Janine. In hindsight, this was a terrible reaction as Brenda now held all the cards.

“Oh I shouldn’t, should I? Why not, huh? There’s nothing to be ashamed of by being a little miss pottypants. You know, what I’d love to do? Change your little diaper butt!”

“You won’t.”

“Yes, I will. I should probably check if you’re dry right now…”

“No, stop! Get away from me!”

“My, my. Baby has wet herself. We are definitely going to your place.”

Obviously, this wasn’t really optional, and Janine only begrudginly accepted so that Brenda would go away afterwards. Janine had an apartment to herself, which meant that she could openly indulge. A baby bottle in the kitchen, a few toys scattered here and there, a ridiculous amount of stuffies. Subtle signs that gave it away. Brenda looked at her victim with glee.

“Oh this is much better than my dorm. You must love it here. No mommy to tell you to clean up after yourself.”

The worst part was when Brenda went through Janine’s closet. Onesies, footie pyjamas, loads of diaper packs with adorable prints, little dresses and skirts.

“This is all so cute! I didn’t know you were such a cute little baby! We should tell everyone, don’t you think?”

“Brenda, please. You’ve done enough. Can’t you act like an adult and start minding your own business?”

“I need to start acting like an adult? I’m not the one pissing myself, baby. In fact, I think I should inform everyone.”

“NO!” Janine stomped her foot and laid down the law. This was not going to happen.

“No? YOU don’t get to say no, baby girl.” Brenda wrestled Janine’s pants away from her and put the girl on her lap, spanking her well-padded bottom until she started to cry. Pain was only a small part, there was also the humiliation and a surprising amount of excitement. This strange and contradictory mixture of emotions is what made her cry.

“If you act like a good little girl.” said Brenda. “You will be a very happy baby, but if you make mommy mad, you will NEVER live it down. Is that understood?”

Janine nodded while sobbing.

Brenda immediately moved in to become Janine’s around-the-clock caregiver. And just as quickly, Janine was forced into the 24/7 lifestyle she had fantasized about. Everything was done for her and an extreme set of rules was also put in place. Like wearing diapers and baby clothes at all times or only being able to “make cummies” if mommy deemed her diaper sufficiently dirty. And she had to beg for them while showing off how used her diaper was. The cummies were mommy’s business too. Only mommy could use the vibrator on Janine’s diaper. While Janine was forced into this lifestyle, she still went about her daily activities. Brenda had wanted them to go on. Thus, Janine went to school diapered and wearing a short girlish dress that barely covered the padding. In the front and in the back, there was a noticeable bulge, revealing that Janine perhaps wasn’t wearing normal underwear.

In the hallways, Janine was forced to hold Brenda’s hand. Not only that, she was constantly flushed from the looks she was getting. She did not relax until she was seated in the massive auditorium, where she could have some privacy by sitting in the back. Yet, when she felt she needed to go, she did not hesitate for one second as Mommy had trained her well. It is unfortunate that after the class, a friend of Janine came to see her. The diaper, well-used, now sagged just under the dress.

“Hi! How...are you?” said the friend.

“I-” Janine began.

“Baby, put your thumb in your mouth. She’s doing super well!” answered Brenda in her place.

The friend nodded and went away immediately after. Whatever this was, she wanted no part of it.

Naturally, Janine began to cry, thumb in her mouth.

“Do you need your diaper changed?” asked Brenda, loud enough for any passerby to hear. The woman put her hand on Janine’s butt and squished it. “Yes, you do!”

Whispers of “what’s wrong with her” could be heard. For some reason, this broke Janine. It was all in the open so why resist?

“Mommy, I wanna go home.” she said. Teary, her whole thumb in her mouth, raising her dress with the other hand so everyone could see her diaper.

Janine’s reaction was marvelous as far as Brenda was concerned. Now, the girl was all hers.

“We can’t leave yet, baby. You haven’t done your cummies.”

“Please mommy, no…” Janine was absolutely desperate to avoid at least that.

“No, perhaps it’d be better in front of your parents…”

Under this thinly veiled threat, Janine began to rub the front of her diaper with great vigor. The first and only time she had been allowed to touch herself, even if through her underwear. The thick padding made it especially challenging. So did the crowd of onlookers. Perverts in their own rights for watching, and filming, Janine. Finally, she moaned loudly.

“I made cummies mommy!” she nearly screamed in a high pitch lisp.

“Good job, baby! I won’t bring you here again, I promise” Brenda said with a grin.

Indeed, Janine never went to college again. Instead, she was kept at home. Forced to use her diapers, she grew dependent on them. Forced to ask permission to make cummies, always while wearing a used diaper and often in public. Truly, a baby that was shown off at every opportunity. And all that humiliation just kept making Janine hornier.

#ab/dl caption #ab/dl girl #ab/dl community #ab/dl #ab/dl fiction #diaper captions #ab/dl stories #diaper stories #ab/dl babygirl

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dinarosie · 3 months ago

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I Was Bullied Too, So Why Didn’t I Turn Out Like Severus Snape?

I came across an anti-Snape post where someone shared their experience of being bullied in school. They said that even though they were bullied, they were able to overcome it, which is why they admired James Potter—because he changed and stopped being a bully. However, they hate Snape for not being able to move on from his past.

Everyone has the right to hate or love the characters based on their taste but What bothers me is how people often compare their own trauma to others' and disregard the genetic and environmental differences that shape us as individuals. I’ve decided to write a long post comparing my own life with Snape’s—two people who were both bullied as children. it was difficult for me to write this post, but I hope this comparison shows that not everyone who experiences bullying ends up the same. The variances in our upbringing and support systems play a crucial role in shaping who we become.

When I was seven years old, I was mocked and humiliated by a group of older girls on the school bus (they were eleven at the time). They made it clear that they bullied me because I was smaller and weaker than them. They treated me in a way that made me believe I deserved their bullying. I thought a weak and ugly girl like me was deserving of all their humiliation. They would mess up my hair, pull it, and ridicule me for having messy and ugly hair. Whenever I cried, they laughed. They didn't even let me be friends with other girls. To torment me further, they would point at me, whisper to each other, and giggle, making me feel even more isolated. I had allergies and a runny nose, and they wouldn’t let me wipe it, which they used as another reason to belittle me, saying I was disgusting. Even if there was an empty seat, they wouldn’t let me sit with them because I was "gross." I was terrified of them, hated school because of them, and cried every morning, begging not to go to school.

But why didn’t I turn out like Severus Snape?

1- I grew up like a normal child in every other aspect of my life. I was cared for and valued. I always had birthday parties with cake and gifts. I was praised when I got good grades. I had friends outside of school to play with, went on family vacations, and had fun times. From childhood to adulthood, I’ve had a safe home, enough sleep, good food, and a loving family.

2- I had parents who loved and cared about me. When my mother found out about the bullying, she went to the school and demanded they stop it. My parents also enrolled me in a private school to protect me from further bullying. When I started having nightmares and trouble sleeping, they took me to a child therapist.

3- My grandparents adored me. I would stay at their house when my parents were at work, and they made my childhood even more joyful. I always had safe arms to run to. Plus, my aunts and uncles cared for me and regularly took me to parks and other fun places, showering me with gifts and making sure I enjoyed my time.

4- My family had a respectable place in society, and I was never shamed or humiliated because of my family's circumstances. My father cared for me, my sister, and my mother, and he worked hard to provide for our needs. He respected my mother, and I never witnessed any abuse from him toward her.

5- My family had a stable income, and I always had new, appropriate clothes to wear. I never had to worry about poverty, hunger, or wearing hand-me-downs that would make me feel inferior to my peers.

6- My bullies mocked me, but they never caused me serious physical harm. I never feared for my life or sexual assault at school. The bullying was short-lived, lasting less than two years, and by the time I was a teenager, it had completely stopped. As I grew older, I made plenty of good friends and was popular among them. I have many fond memories from high school with my friends.

7- As a teenager, I didn’t worry about my future. My concerns were not about surviving a war, avoiding humiliation, or escaping poverty. I was free to plan my life, knowing I would go to university and study what I loved. Whenever I needed help, I knew I could count on my family—they were always there to support me.

8- I’m a psychology student, and studying this field has completely shifted my perspective on myself and others. It has allowed me to see the world with greater depth and empathy. I’ve become better at recognizing not only my own psychological wounds but also those of others, which has helped me connect with people on a deeper level. I've also sought therapy, both in-person and online, and have seen positive results. While I still struggle with some issues from my past—like feeling insecure about my appearance, doubting people’s motives, and having a hard time trusting—I’ve learned how to manage these feelings fairly well.

All of these factors combined have shaped me into someone different from Severus Snape. Yes, I was bullied, but I didn’t turn out like him because, unlike Snape, I was given numerous opportunities to grow, to experience love and joy, to heal, and to find pleasure in life.

Now, It’s much easier for someone like me to be kind and nice to others, to love people, to forgive myself and others, and to move on from those who don’t like me. It’s easier for me to see the world and people not as threats but with a more mature and balanced perspective. but I’m under no illusion that I am a better and more worthy person than Severus Snape or anyone like him who didn’t have the chance to heal. I simply know that I’ve been luckier, and for that, I’m grateful. But I never want to dismiss or belittle the suffering of others or blame them for their psychological struggles.

I can’t say for certain what I would’ve done in Snape’s exact situation or how bitter I might’ve become. But I’m certain of one thing: I could never be as brave or as selfless as Snape was, sacrificing his own life so readily for others. I know that I could never be a hero like him.

#severus snape #pro snape #professor snape #snapedom #snape fandom #anti snaters #snape defender #snape meta #anti james potter #character complexity #Hero In Shadows

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strwberri-milk · 2 months ago

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Hii hii! I recently got into LND and zooms straight to Tumblr to read fics of them and have been binge reading your works to cheer myself up during a bad day at work aaa I'm loving them all so so much!

Can I request a high school AU of LND guys reaction to reader being a part of the cheerleading squad? Them adoring readers energy and enthusiasm albeit a tad bit jealous when reader cheered for a particular sports team or something ehe thank you in advance!!

!!!! im glad you like my fics that much i LOVE LOVE high school aus im writing this right before the school event for rafa is about to start and im so excited i love my little fish <33 - i also didnt really know how to incorprate all of your request so i did as much as i saw fitting <3

Zayne is the top student in the school. People were honestly surprised by the fact that he didn't skip any grades, not knowing it was because of how much he cherishes the time he spends with you, his childhood friend and partner.

You were (seemingly) the opposite of Zayne but everybody knew that the two of you were close. He'd always come meet you after practise or you'd come to his tutoring sessions to hang out with him or get help with your own course work. People didn't bother to ask out either of you because it was pretty clear that Zayne only had eyes for you and nobody wanted to incur his wrath, even if he just seems like a very nice guy.

Whenever he can make it he likes to show up to your cheer routines. He does his best to make time for it because he wants to show you his support for you. He doesn't cheer as loudly as the others but you can feel his intense stare as he watches your every movement, clapping along with the audience and smiling at you whenever your eyes meet.

At the end of the routine he always comes to find you as soon as he can, draping his jacket over you if you seem cold and putting his arm around your shoulder possessively. He just likes it when people know you're his, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Xavier isn't really known outside of Being Hot. A lot of people fawn over him but because he generally keeps to himself and is pretty quiet with people he's not used to that means people find him a little intimidating to approach. He's never outwardly mean but he just doesn't seem approachable.

Somehow the two of you struck up your relationship. He doesn't really have any afterschool events of his own to attend unless he decides to pop into the gaming club on the odd occasion so he makes it a habit to come to your practises. He just likes to sit and watch. He'll either get schoolwork done or take a nap while he waits for you to finish so the two of you can walk home together.

He does get a little jealous that everybody gets to see you in your cheer uniform because he knows you look great in it but he also knows that he gets joy from being able to give you his sweater when you're cold. He also knows you hold his sweaters hostage whenever he gives them to you, making sure to wear them around for at least a week before he gives it to you.

Rafayel is very popular because of how pretty and talented he is. However, he's a little intimidating like Xavier because he is not very extroverted. People think that they can approach him and talk to him because they've seen him go on tangents in class and such but outside of when he feels comfortable talking he doesn't really make an effort to speak to anybody - except you.

He basically follows you around like a dog, holding your hand or hanging off of you if faculty aren't yelling at him to get off of you. Sometimes people try to hit on him and he makes sure the way he responds leaves absolutely no room for doubt that he's devoted to you and only you. Sometimes people try to hit on you but they suddenly feel this heavy presence from behind them so they stop, you knowing it's Rafayel's surprisingly terrifying death stare.

He's asked to do a lot of work for school events whenever there's a need for posters to be prepared and such so the two of you do run into each other a lot when it comes to big school events. He loves it and will always try to steal a kiss from you in passing, pouting if you don't respond in kind.

He comes to all of your routines and always makes a habit of giving you a big old smooch on the field whenever he can, holding you tightly and showing off that yes, he's the lucky sap who gets to hold you and kiss you all he wants.

Sylus is pretty popular despite being outwardly intimidating. Everybody knows not to get on his bad side - not because he'll do anything to them but the disapproving look and mocking sneer he gives is enough to scare anybody straight. He plays on the team so he sees you at practises pretty often, telling you to give him a kiss for good luck for games and practises alike.

If you cheer for another one of this teammates the others will tease him for it, telling him teasingly that they're going to steal you from him. He doesn't mind the jokes because he knows you're absolutely whipped for him. The way you look at him and hang off of him is already incredibly obvious but sometimes to really show off how much you love him he'll withhold affection from you as he walks over to take you home, letting everyone see how whiney you can get (and he loves how much it makes you squirm when he makes you ask him for attention in public).

He definitely does that thing where he carries you around the field at the end of a game, taking you as his trophy. As far as he's concerned that's all that matters to him - he doesn't care what other accolades they're going to try and give him.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads sylus x reader #lnds zayne x reader #lnds xavier x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #lnds sylus x reader

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calummss · 1 year ago

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20 Reasons To Love You | Klaus Mikaelson

part one: 1920s Love : masterlist

summary: after your encounter with the original vampire, he asks you to the school dance. your salvatore cousins try to get in the way but you’re tired of being protected. you are starting to like the so called original vampire, but is it an illusion or the real deal

pairing: fem! reader x klaus mikaelson

words: 3.1k

a/n: part 2 is finally out. i love this piece so much because just like the first the reader is confident but unsure at the same time and i think that accurate describes me and many others. here’s to my fellow klaus mikaelson lover that love him as much as i do (not possible). enjoy!!

‘I’m here to take you to the 1920s, love.’

You stood at the door, too many words racing through your mind.

‘I don’t have a dress, I— well I never expected to go so I never bought a dress.” You sighed, each word becoming more airy as you managed to take him in. ‘I don’t have a dress…’

Dark blonde hair, pink plush lips, a white suit that fit him like a second skin. He was handsome. More handsome than you’d ever say out loud, the rumours of his behaviour and actions not scaring you, but making you tone down any infatuation that could be drawn out.

‘I thought it best you’d wear an actual dress from your decade,’ He nodded one of his witches over, his arms engulfed around a light pink box, a white ribbon decorating it. ‘I saved this for a special occasion.’ He smiled at you. ‘I think today is it.’

‘Original?’

‘Original.’

‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ your eyes never left the box, ‘I would ruin it. It’s too precious.’

He gave his witch another silent order who pushed past you to walk into the house.

‘Hello?’ You shouted at her but she was long gone.

Klaus took a closer step, so close the smell of his perfume hit you softly, ‘Do me a favour and wear it, darling. You could only do it justice. We don’t have much time now. Change.’

‘But—‘

‘No buts.’

‘Fine,’ you sighed as you took hold of the dress box, your cheeks starting you shake the apples of your cheeks, smiling ear to ear as you finally held it in your hands. ‘Wait for me.’

‘Do you even have to ask, love?’

Returning a smile you hurried away, the dress screaming to be worn as you couldn’t believe that your frame would wear something so beautiful and of such good quality from decades ago. A decade that had long been your favourite. Wearing a piece of history, brought to you by a vampire everyone seemed terrified out of their minds.

When you finally got the dress on and fixed your hair as well as jewellery, you headed back downstairs. Your heels carrying you differently; at least you thought. Klaus still stood by the entrance outside, eyeing something in the front yard.

‘How do I look?’ You called out, his head turning in an instant.

‘Like the sparkles of an ocean on an early summer morning.’

Your heart fluttered. Never had you heard anything so romantic. Whenever you asked someone they simply said pretty. Barely paying attention to the way you looked but Klaus, Klaus looked at you like a canvas. Paying attention to every detail like he was an artist, captivated by his creation. Ready to hang it up to admire it all year around.

Arriving at Mystic Falls High School you already saw that the grounds had empty liquor bottles laying on the ground, waiting for someone to trip over. You almost were a victim. As for the people in this crowded area, they reminded you of the beer bottles: empty and pretty useless. But they were carefree; unaware of the reality that was Mystic Falls.

Every girl looked similar. All wore short flapper dresses and headbands only the colours differentiating them from one another. They looked beautiful but repeativness got boring fast. You however shined. A white satin gown, thin straps, insinuating your chest, the fabric gently hugging your curves as it pooled at your feet. Paired with a beautiful pearl necklace and a white fur scarf that completed the look. Simple but classy.

Walking up towards the entrance, you locked eyes with a certain someone you tried to ignore the entirety of the evening, but he saw you. The glare in his eyes causing you to stop in your tracks, his raven hair that blended into the night coming closer.

‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Damon.’ You mused, your right arm hooked with Klaus’, your other hand on his shoulder as you smiled at Damon.

‘Go home.’ Damon stated, his eyes drilling holes into your soul.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’

‘Actually I can,’ he smirked, his stupid grin spreading heat through your limbs. ‘I am your legal guardian.’

‘Only ‘cause you killed Uncle Zach,’ you snapped, taking your arms from Klaus’ body, stepping closer to Damon, asserting yourself against him. ‘Not very guardian like?’

Damon’s head scanned the surrounding area, making sure no one could listen in. ‘Don’t cause a scene, Y/n.’

‘Don’t patronise me.’

‘Again,’ he tried suppressing his voice, ‘don’t cause a scene and go home.’

‘No.’ You snapped. ’I am going to my school dance which by the way I have more of a right to be at than you, and enjoy dancing with my date.’

‘Date from hell…’

‘Well then he isn’t much different from you after all,’ you placed your arms back in Niklaus’ arm, giving Damon a sarcastic smile. ‘Move.’

Damon didn’t move, instead he stepped closer, his eyes continuing to stay on you, his lips pressed together.

‘You heard the lady,’ Klaus said. You didn’t look at his face but you could tell he was smirking at Damon. ‘Move, Damon.’

Klaus and you stepped past Damon, walking towards the entrance, the music increasing in volume as you stepped through the door.

Down in the gym, people were already dancing. Music blasting through the room, balloons, tinsel and much more of the decorations the walls and floor carried that you dragged yourself to every Tuesday and Thursday, dreading to move. Rather wanting to participate in every girl’s favourite subjects: English and history. Walking towards the dance floor you saw Damon walking up to Alaric, their eyes on you as soon as Damon whispered something and you knew that their eyes would follow your every move.

‘What are they saying?’ You asked Klaus, your eyes still on the pair as you started swaying in rhythm. Bodies close as you felt the warmth of his body.

‘Talking about various ways to ruin our night and all the ways they can kill me.’

You pushed your tongue against your teeth, staring straight ahead into Klaus’ shoulder. ‘Damon, I know you can hear me,’ you started to whisper. ‘Leave me and my dating life alone. I’m 19 years old, not six. And don’t you dare try to ignore me or roll your stupid blue eyes at me because I will rip that little smug of your face.’ You turned around to see Alaric and Damon go towards the punch table, visibly irritated on your behalf yet still they took the hint and backed off for now.

‘I knew there was a reason I liked you.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Don’t hold back on my account.’ He chimed. ‘Feisty women are my weakness.’

‘I’m feisty?’ Not a word generally used to describe you.

‘Hmm, also confident; unsure; great company; an amazing dancer and best of all, not intimidated by me since the second you met me and found out who I was.’

You hesitated before speaking. Was it rude to ask such an invasive question? Would he answer it? Would it spark his mood to change?

‘Why is everyone so afraid of you?’ You asked in a careful tone, not sure if the vampire would switch up on you.

‘I do terrible things.’

‘People do terrible things all the time.’

‘I created new sins.’ His deep eyes gazed at you, his soft plumpish lips leaving every word ingrained into your mind, begging to know what his lips would feel like lingered onto yours.

‘Such as…?’

‘Let’s not get into it, love.’

‘I can handle it.’ You separated your body from his, staring up at him. ‘I have heard what you have done but I’ve also seen your actions: listening to me, talking to me and making me feel interesting, getting me a dress to a school dance I wasn’t planning on going to.’ You smiled slightly. ‘That takes a heart to do.’ You placed your hands above his chest, tapping lightly with an almost jestful tone. ‘And you have a pretty strong one.’

Klaus gazed at you ever so gently, his eyes flickered to your lips as his mind turned hungry at the thought of your kiss. Not craving the taste of warm blood, freshly pumped out of a human vein. No. He craved you in a way that was unfamiliar to him. Klaus wanted you to be close to him, to feel your heartbeat so close it would beat in union with his. To feel your lips on his skin, the taste of your skin without the blood. The thought of tasting your blood left an uncertain feeling in his stomach; quease mixed with disdain. He didn’t want to hurt you or leave a scratch on your skin. All he wanted was the moisture of his lips to sit upon your skin. Light, gently, accepted.

The sound of music faded when you realised you were leaning in. His eyes felt like paralysing poison as you inched closer. Your heart beat in your throat when his face came closer too. He too wanted this. You could feel his breath ricocheting off your face, and when your lips met the music stopped. His lips kissed you gently, coming back for more as one his hands slid towards your face, holding you delicately as the other went down to your back to support you. Your hands moved to his head, grabbing a handful of hair as you parted your lips to let him get a better taste of you. Your mind was blank, your stomach filled to the brim with butterflies that duplicated every second he was touching you; flattering their tiny wings as the space to move began to decrease. Every kiss grew more passionate. Air was flowing out, barely catching breath as he felt like the air you were supposed to breathe all along.

Separating from his touch you let yourself breathe, your chest falling and rising as you held his eyes, too beautiful to be true. Eyes that belonged to a killer that just held you like you were the most delicate flower.

‘Can we go somewhere more quiet?’ You leaned in, your social battery slowly decreasing as you craved a quiet and still place to be with him.

Klaus brought you to his mansion he bought a few weeks ago, saying he was to stay in Mystic Falls for a while. His house was filled with artworks of the most incredible artists. Each piece crafted to perfection.

Guiding you to a back room you took notice of different materials and colours. Canvases and easels to hold them up. One painting was finished by the look of your eyes. It stood on an easel in the middle of the room, close to a candle light that shined just enough to admire the painting.

‘May I speak out loud my interpretation of this painting?’ Your eyes scanned the framed piece, the candle gently casting a light above the painting. ‘I know that artists want to be understood as they pour their thoughts and feelings onto the canvas, yet someone else saying out loud what the artist was too cautious to say themselves, can evoke an uncomfortableness. That someone truly understands them is more often an artist's greatest fear.’

Klaus stood by your right shoulder, silently gazing at his painting from behind your frame. His silence, his breath, made you turn your head to the side. Just enough to catch his breath on your cheek, just enough to let the corner of your mouth tip curl, allowing you to feel his intimacy.

‘I suppose the painter felt lonely whilst crafting their piece. The way dark colours engulf the lighter ones. The way the colours meet but never mix,’

His hand gently brushed along the curve of your shoulder, giving you the insight of Klaus’ guard let down when he was immersed in his art.

‘Careful and precise strokes show me the delicacy behind the fragile thoughts that are meant to be the painter’s release. The small firefly, so tiny its illuminating glow is barely caught with the first impression of the painting, is fascinating to me. Despite the painter’s sadness and pain, there must have been something in the moment that compelled them to leave behind something so coruscating. Something tells me that the painter is trying to find their way. Whether it be to themselves or to someone.’

‘The way you analyse art, Y/n, is beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?‘

‘I suppose I find beauty in darkness quite fascinating…painting or painter,’ you placed your gloved hand on top of his. The warmth of his skin pervasively fighting through the silk fabric.

‘The firefly I must admit is you. You are the firefly in my thoughts. You glow amongst the darkest part of my mind. Just the mere thought of you makes me feel like I am a different man even if I don’t want to change…’

You turned around and gave Klaus a sweet but quick kiss. ‘You don’t have to change. I like you for who you are and I must admit, this night has made me realise just how much I actually like you. It feels fast but safe at the same time.’

Klaus returned it with another kiss. ‘Normally I like a chase but I simply need to be yours.’

‘Would you ever draw me?’ An innocent question, soft- eyed waiting for a response. A small smile sweeping across his face.

‘I actually already have,’ he said, his cheeks a fair rosé, barely noticeable to anyone who didn’t pay attention but you, how you took notice of every detail that made him him.

‘You have?’ You grinned. ‘Why?’

‘I mostly paint things that mean a lot to me,’ he took a look at his paintings. ‘Mostly landscapes…and you…’

It warmed your heart but you didn’t show, only the palm of your hand pressing into your other, love overflowing your body.

‘I suppose one day I should return the favour, though I cannot promise you’ll look anything like the real you.’

Klaus let out a laugh, his eyes smiling like the crescent moon of night that shone over his garden outside. Eyes sparkling like the stars.

‘Would you like another dance outside?’ He asked, noticing your longing look at the porch, illuminated by fairy lights that left a magical feeling within you.

‘I certainly would.’

Holding out your hand you followed him outside, the slight cold breeze nothing but relaxing as you swayed with Klaus again. This time it felt nicer. Alone, just the two, surrounded by nothing but darkness and crickets of the summer night giving your silence a nice touch of tone.

‘I want to give you something,’ Klaus searched for something in his pocket. When he finally pulled it out he continued to say, ‘This vial contains vampire blood.’

You stared at the vile, red liquid calming floating behind the glass.

‘It’s my brother Elijah’s blood.’

Doe eyed and furrowed eyebrows stared back at him, ‘Why not yours?’

‘If I could, trust me I would. For a vampire there’s nothing worse than blood sharing with someone’s partner,’ he held your gaze. ‘But if I gave you my blood, little one, you would die.’

‘I don’t understand? Why would I die?’

‘Well here’s some information only my family and one witch know…I’m a vampire and a werewolf. A hybrid. If I were to feed you my blood you would die the next day. Bad blood.’

‘Oh,’ disappointment covered your words, weirdly enough bummed that it wasn’t Klaus’ blood you would be carrying around to protect you in case you needed it.

‘This blood is here for whenever you decide you want that change in your life you talked about.’ Klaus’ finger grazed against the skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. ‘I like you, Y/n and I won’t compel you to take it. I like you and if I could I would spend eternity with you. I know it hasn’t been long but you feel good for me.’

Your lips caught his. ‘Of course I will wear it.’

‘Make sure to keep it safe.’

‘I will.’ You hand found his face, giving in once more into temptation, his sensation too good for you.

You played with the vial between your fingers, a wave of warmth rushing over you as you realised just how much you liked Klaus. But as much as you liked him it was getting late…

‘I think it’s best that I go home. It is late and Damon and Stefan are probably going crazy…’

‘I’ll take you home.’

Klaus dropped you off just before the door, watching as you safely entered the Salvatore house. And before the door even closed you could hear Damon’s taunting voice echoing through the halls of the boarding house.

‘Where have you been?’

‘With my date.’ You carelessly threw the keys to the side, walking past Damon to try and get into the kitchen to get something to drink.

‘You can’t date him, Y/n.’ Damon growled, his eyebrows pulled to his eyes as his voice grew louder. ‘He’s a bad person.’

‘Who cares?’ You uttered, pouring yourself a drink as you watched Damon pace towards you.

‘I care!’

‘Since when?!’

‘Since always!’

‘Damon,’ You breathed. ‘I love you, I truly do but are you so blind to not realise that you too are a bad person? You used Caroline; killed Lexi, Stefan’s only friend; Uncle Zach? Why can those actions be excused by literally everyone yet apparently Klaus is where we all draw the line huh?’ Words spilled from your lips as the pit in your stomach started to burn a ball of annoyance. ‘Because he shows no remorse at all? Newsflash neither did you and just because you feel it now doesn't make your actions any more excused. I like the way he is. I like the fact that he is a bad person but a good person to me. Someone that finally pays attention to me!’

Damon stayed quiet, his face obvious to the hypocrisy that everyone was participating in yet he was still angry at you and the fact that you were capable of making your own decisions no matter how bad or good they were.

‘If he hurts you don’t come crying to me,’ Damon turned around to walk away.

‘Oh please as soon as I cry because of anyone that person ends up hurt. If you’re trying to pretend not to care about me, good luck.’

‘You wish.’

‘Ah fuck,’ you whinced, a wave of pain shooting through your finger.

Damon’s vampire speed brought his feet back to you, your hand in his as he took a look at what pained you.

‘Told you so,’ you mocked.

‘Ass hat.’

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Spooky season is here and I was just thinking about that tiktok (maybe) of the couple at the haunted house where the guy pushes the girl onto the feet of the ax wielding haunt and then the girl and haunt have a conversation that ends with the girl chasing the asshole with the ax and the haunt happily following her.

But make that Steddie. Steve as the girl. Set between seasons 3 and 4, but in a world where Steve going on a date with a man is surprise not a thing of revulsion (as in people would surprised that he was dating a guy having been a ladies man in high school, but no one would give him shit about it). Because it's my sand box, damn it. I make the rules here!

Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to go on this date with Jeremy. He didn't like haunted houses. He had seen too many real horrors in his life be frightened of fake ones. But Robin said he could pretend to be scared and cling to the guy's arm, maybe even get a kiss out of it.

What he wasn't expecting was for it to actually terrify him. He was clutching Jeremy's arm the whole way through, chanting in his head "don't hurt them, it's not real." Over and over again whenever the urge to push the actors away or in one extreme case when they were in the haunted hospital break the doctor's nose.

The actor looked too much like Dr Brennan, and while the patient on the gurney wasn't a girl or even had shaved hair, but Steve's protective instinct went into overdrive. It took every ounce of self-will Steve had to keep clutching Jeremy's arm.

They finally hit a room that didn't look so bad. It had a wood floor and four garish statues, one in each corner. Their fog machine was working in high gear but seemed to collect around one figure in particular.

It held an ax over its head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The robes that gathered around its sandled feet were perfectly rendered in stone. The sleeves of the robe revealed a couple of bat tattoos on the right forearm.

Steve was entranced, he let go of Jeremy's arm for the first time since they started and took a step toward it.

It was then the actor jumped off his pedestal and swung his ax down.

Jeremy did the inexplicable. Maybe even outright despicable thing. He pushed Steve forward into the waiting arms of ax murder. Steve stumbled landing on the actor's feet.

"Whoa!" the actor asked. "Are you okay?" He put the ax down and helped Steve get to his feet.

"Did he really just shove me at you to save his own ass?" Steve asked in shock.

The actor cocked his head to the side. "That's what it looked like to me. I hope that was a friend and not a date..."

Steve winced. "Sadly, the latter."

"Fuck, dude," the actor said. He spotted the ax. "You want to get revenge?" He picked up the ax and handed it to Steve.

Steve laughed. "Hell yeah!"

He ran after Jeremy, very plastic ax in hand, the actor cheering him on.

The next room was holding Jeremy so that he wouldn't be split from Steve and gotten lost. It was full of evil clowns. Something that apparently Jeremy was terrified of, judging by the screaming he had been doing.

The actors spotted Steve coming at their prey with an ax and Eddie cheering him from behind, they immediately clocked what had probably gone down. They let Jeremy pass them and two of the clowns broke off to chase him out of the haunted house, gaining cast members with each passing room (still enough remaining to scare other patrons but obviously gaining a crowd to hound this guy.)

He exited the haunted house screaming obscenities at Steve and the actors. The crowd laughing and pointing. He got into his car and drove off.

The smile slid off Steve's face. "Fuck. There goes my ride home."

The ax murder laughed as all the other actors went back inside. He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown curls and grey face paint around his eyes on his lips. "I've gotcha, big boy."

"Eddie Munson, right?" Steve asked when he finally placed the face.

"Aww," Eddie cackled. "You do remember me."

Steve scoffed. "Kinda hard to forget."

Eddie's grin grew big. "Duly noted." He scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry about the shitty date though."

Steve shrugged. "It turned out more fun then I thought it would."

Eddie cocked his head again. "True. It's not every day you get chase away a bad date with plastic ax."

Steve handed it back to him. "Shouldn't you be getting back? Won't the other patrons find it odd when the room is empty of scares?"

Eddie smiled slyly. "Who says I left my post unattended?"

Steve's eyes went wide. "How many more of the statues are actors?"

Eddie leaned forward into his space. "I'll never tell," he said sing-song.

Steve laughed.

"Just let me inform my boss I'm taking you home and clean up this makeup, I'll get you home, Stevie," Eddie said.

"You don't have to do that," Steve mumbled. "I'm sure I could call someone."

Eddie shook his head. "Nah, I've got you."

"Thanks."

Ten minutes later Eddie was back on the pavement standing next to Steve. He was back in his usual shredded black jeans and leather jacket. But he wore a denim vest over top of it.

"I like the vest," Steve murmured. "I like pins and things."

"Patches," Eddie said.

Steve hummed his confusion.

"The other things are patches," Eddie explained.

Steve smiled. "That's cool."

Eddie pulled up to Steve's house without asking for directions.

"Should I ask how you knew that?" Steve asked as he got out of the van.

Eddie just waggled his eyebrows as he got out of the van too.

"You gonna walk me to the door, Eds?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"These woods behind your house are pretty fucking scary, dude," Eddie said with a huff of laughter.

Steve just shook his head and bit his tongue to avoid saying exactly how much.

They got to his door and Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's lips.

It was sweet and warm. "What was that for?" Steve asked, breathlessly.

"Isn't that what you do at the end of a date?" Eddie asked with a teasing grin. "Walk them to door and give them a kiss good night?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is. Good night, Eds."

"Good night, Stevie."

Eddie walked to his van. "If you want to go on a date that doesn't end you chasing your date with an ax, you know where to find me."

Steve grinned. "I might just take you up on that. Provided it's not another haunted house."

"Don't worry, baby," Eddie said with grin. "I'm loyal. Just a one haunted house kind of guy."

Steve shook his head and unlocked the door. Before he close it behind him he could hear Eddie celebrating, cheering and hollering.

Robin was never going to believe him when he told her how his date went.

But that's okay. She was right. It was fun.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @vecnuthy

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #haunted house #bisexual steve harrington #steve's date is a jerk #eddie to the rescue

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7s3ven · 10 months ago

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DRIVING LESSONS. luke (pjo)

Normal! Au

( master list )

IN WHICH… Luke attempts to teach Percy how to drive and, in the process, almost crashes into Luke’s long time crush. But maybe he can spin it in his favor.

—

Luke was like an older brother to many. He had warm and comforting aura that people seemed to gravitate towards.

“Don’t get hurt, seaweed brain.” Annabeth warned Percy, pointing a stern finger at him. Luke chuckled as he leaned against the hood of his shiny car. Percy needed driving lessons and Luke was more than happy to help. Though, he knew he was going to regret it. Annabeth and Sally were both too terrified to teach Percy but Luke was up for the challenge.

“Turn on your blinker, Percy.” Luke reminded the teenage boy for the fifth time.

“My what?” Percy only stared at Luke in utter confusion.

“Your turn signal. And keep your eyes in the road!” Luke exclaimed as another car whizzed past, narrowly avoiding crashing into them. Percy immediately glued his eyes back to the view in front of him, sheepishly smiling.

"Sorry." He whispered.

“Turn slowly here.” Luke instructed, nodding when Percy finally remembered to press his blinker. Percy turned painfully slow, matching the speed of a sloth, and Luke held back an annoyed groan.

“So, when did you start driving?” Percy asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luke shrug.

“I’m not sure. Around your age or a little older.” Luke was in his twenties now, already having secured a well-paying job which helped pay for half of Annabeth’s tuitions. The other half was paid by a scholarship she earned.

“Have you met any cute girls?”

Luke lightly snorted, grinning in amusement. “Why are you asking me that, Percy? You know I can see how you look at Annabeth. I should be asking you how it’s going with her.”

Percy and Annabeth had always been stuck between friends and lovers and it was driving Luke insane. He wanted to shove the two of them together and demand they admit their feelings.

“Okay, but have you met any cute girls?” Percy was persistent, which suited his given name. Luke scoffed, tilting his head back. He had but he didn’t want to admit it to Percy. How was he supposed to tell Percy that he was still in love with the same girl from high school?

He thought he was over his feelings but he saw her in a coffee shop one day and everything came flooding back. Their playful flirting, their late night rants as they lay in each other’s arms while listening to Luke’s playlist, and that kiss they shared in their last year. Annabeth was already calling Luke a loser for liking her again, he didn’t need Percy doing the same.

“I guess.” Luke finally answered. “I’m not really attached to any of them, though.” Because his mind was always on Y/N, his high school sweetheart.

“Are you gay?” Percy asked out of the blue, causing Luke to choke in surprise.

“Am I- No! I’m not gay, Percy! I like girls but I wouldn’t date any of the girls I meet!”

“Is it because you’re still obsessed with her?”

Luke knew who he was talking about. He clicked his tongue, giving Percy the indirect answer that he needed. Percy wasn’t so clueless after all.

In all Luke’s years of babysitting Annabeth and Percy, he had only brought one girl over, who happened to be Y/N. They were working on a school project but Annabeth still liked to tease him about the way he gazed at Y/N.

Percy made the mistake of tearing his eyes away from the road again. “Percy!” Luke shouted as soon as he spotted someone walking across the pedestrian crossing, “Eyes on the road!” Percy, in a panic, slammed his foot against the break. The car screeched to an abrupt halt and both boys were sent flying forward. If it weren't for their seat belts, they would've crashed through the windshield.

There was a soft knock on Luke’s window and he turned his head, mortified to see the very girl he was just thinking about. The brunette slowly rolled the window down, thickly gulping.

“Hey.” Y/N greeted him, resting her arms on the sill, “You know, people usually stop at the crossing. They don’t almost run someone over.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s his first time and he’s still pretty nervous.” Luke jabbed a thumb in Percy’s direction. The blond boy was sweating, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He sent Y/N an apologetic smile.

“Oh, Percy. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Y/N grinned at him, “You’ve grown up so fast. Last time I saw you, you were smashing into walls.” Percy’s cheeks heated up at the memory. “Glad to see you still have that habit. Though, instead of walls now, it seems you like to crash into people. You weren't thinking of committing a hit and run, right?"

“How have you been, Y/N?” Luke changed the subject to spare Percy from the embarrassment of Y/N’s teasing remarks. “You disappeared after high school. And the last time I saw you was in a cafe. I barely had time to ask.”

“I went to university in Europe.”

“And you got your law degree, I assume?”

“Conjoint, actually. I majored in law with a minor in psychology.”

Luke whistled, impressed. He barely passed university. “So, what are you doing now?”

“Well, I was taking a calming walk before I almost got killed.” She chuckled, an amused glimmer flashing in her eyes. Percy sank deeper into Luke’s leather car seat. “If you need help with teaching Percy to drive, I’d be happy to help. You look like you need it.” She fished out a card from her purse, handing it over to Luke. “I changed my number, by the way. That’s my personal one. Feel free to contact me, Luke.”

She bid the pair farewell and once she was out of earshot, Percy and Luke turned to face each other.

“Oh my gosh, she gave you her number!”

“Bro, I got her number!”

It was safe to say that Luke spent the rest of the terrifying car ride feeling elated despite being tossed around in the vehicle with Percy and almost throwing up once or twice.

Luke was dreading the next day with Percy because the young boy was not a good driver. At all. Not only had Percy narrowly avoided crashing into a pole and took off one of Luke’s mirrors in the process, but they also got chased by the cops for going over the speeding limit. Twice. And he couldn't forget how they almost killed Y/N.

Luke was thinking of ditching Percy but he was technically Annabeth’s boyfriend, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

His phone buzzed and his eyes darted to the screen for a split second. He looked back at the road, quickly stomping his foot onto the break. His heart sank for the second time this week. This was not how he wanted to meet Y/N again.

Y/N was teasingly grinning as she made her way over to his window. She knocked on it, bending down to match his height. “Hey, Luke.” She uttered, clicking her tongue. She playfully pursed her lips as she watched Luke sigh, his head resting against the wheel. “You and Percy seem to have one thing in common. Almost crashing into me.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “I didn’t mean to… I swear.” He uttered.

“It’s fine, Luke. As long as you don’t actually hit me. Because if you do, I will run you over too.” Y/N smiled, acting as if she didn’t just whisper a threat in Luke’s ear.

“I’m actually going to pick up Percy right now. Do you want to, uh, join me? I might throw up less with you around. Partly in fear of embarrassing myself.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N huffed in amusement.

“As long as I don’t land in hospital, I’m up for it.”

“No promises.”

Y/N climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her. She tilted her head to the side as she picked up a Lancôme lipstick. “I never took you as lipstick person, Luke.” She joked, holding up the tube.

“It’s Clarisse’s.” He said. Despite their differences, the two were quite close in high school. And they still were.

“You two dating already? Everybody shipped you two.” Y/N chuckled, turning her head to look at Luke.

“We’re just friends.” Luke said.

“Oh, come on. You must like a girl. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”

You, Luke almost said.

“I’m not interested in any girls right now.” He said instead. Y/N quirked an eyebrow.

“Are you gay? Wait, I kissed you while you were gay?!” Y/N gasped while Luke wildly shook his head.

“Why does everyone think I’m gay?!” He exclaimed.

"You've never dated anyone, Luke. It makes people think things." Y/N chuckled as leaned back in her seat. "I remember when everybody thought you and Chris were an item. Your fangirls were devastated. It was hilarious."

"What about you?" Luke asked, "How did... you feel?" Y/N faltered. She slowly turned her head to look at Luke before shyly diverting her gaze.

"I was more preoccupied with laughing over the sad girls with my friends." She uttered, "But I had a feeling you weren't gay. Your fashion sense back then was a dead give away that you were straight."

Luke clicked his tongue, "Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?"

Y/N silently shrugged, flashing him a small grin. "A bit of both, I think."

Silence eventually settled between the pair. The car engine quietly hummed and Y/N glanced out the window as the radio played a soft melody. She thickly gulped as Luke pulled into Percy's driveway, a little disappointed they'd no longer be alone.

"Y/N." Luke quickly turned to her as soon as he pulled the keys out of his car. She met his gaze, confused as she gestured for him to continue. She watched as Luke took a deep breath. "Do you remember when I asked you if you had a partner for prom?"

"Of course. I went with Jake."

"I know that. But do you remember when you told me about Jake and I looked a little sad?" Luke was usually straight-forward with his sentences but he couldn't find the right words in this moment. Y/N slightly tilted her head.

"Yeah... you looked crushed." She said in a joking tone, causing Luke to gently chuckle.

"I looked sad because... I wanted to ask you out. Because I liked you. And I didn't ask anyone else out or accept any other offers because you were the only person I wanted to go with. And when you kissed me in our senior year, I couldn't feel happier, even if it was only because you wanted to feel a teen romance. And when you left... I didn't leave my room for ages. Annabeth had to drag me out. I was scared that you would find another person and I didn't want you to leave me behind."

Y/N gazed at him in silence. Luke cleared his throat, nodding his face. "I shouldn't have said anything... sorry. All those things were ancient history. I don't even know why I brought it up."

"What about you?" Y/N breathed, "Is there anyone else in your life?"

Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. "No... To be honest, I still haven't moved on from you." He turned his head to face Y/N, taken aback when she pressed her lips against his.

"I didn't find anyone else, Luke. I wanted to come back from university and run into your arms again, like old times." Y/N uttered as she pulled away. Luke cracked an ecstatic grin, pulling her back.

"Are you guys seriously making out in front of my house?"

Y/N and Luke jumped apart at the sound of Percy's voice. The younger boy was staring at them through the tinted window, face wrinkled up in disgust.

"I'll, um, get in the backseat." Y/N said, smiling before she switched seats, allowing Luke to sit beside Percy. The brunette gave the boy a subtle glare.

"Can I turn on some music?" Percy asked as he drove down an empty road. Luke had switched off the radio to allow the blond to concentrate.

"Only for a little while. Keep your eyes on the road so you don't almost kill anybody else." Luke snapped. From the backseat, Y/N lightly laughed.

Percy pushed a button and with a quiet click, Olivia Rodrigo started playing. "Really, Luke? Your sad playlist?"

"It's the only other tape in my car."

"I got my driver's license last week"- Percy sang along but he was cut off by Luke's stern tone.

"Percy, you won't be getting your license for ages if you don't focus on the road." The brunette warned. Percy frowned, going silent for a few moments before he parted his lips again.

"He used to listen to this playlist in his car while it rained. He was probably thinking about you." Percy said to Y/N, looking at her through the mirror, "I think he even cried at some point. Annabeth and I saw him one night, just sitting in the car and banging his head against the wheel."

"Percy!" Luke hissed, trying to shush the boy. But the damage was already done as Y/N diverted her eyes to look at Luke.

"Really?" There was an amused edge to her voice.

"Stop the car." Luke demanded, glowering at Percy. The young blond nonchalantly pulled over and stopped the engine. "You're dead, Percy. I'm going to tell Annabeth how you still drool in your sleep." Luke pulled out his phone, causing Percy to panic.

"I told her I stopped!" Percy reached for Luke's device but the brunette quickly stepped out of the car. He held the phone up high, away from Percy's grasp. Y/N watched as Percy chased after Luke, desperate to hide his drooling problem from Annabeth.

Luke turned his head to scowl at Percy. "It's your payback for telling Y/N that!"

idea from @emiliehornby !!

PJO TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbabyyy @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife @niktwazny303 @2hiigh2cry @user021099 @living-in-my-imagination88 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @randomgurl2326 @niktwazny303

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ash5monster01 · 5 months ago

Note

hey!! could you please write more neil perry smuts? they’re so rare and your writing is amazing

your wish is my command 🤍

It’s Just Practice

Pairing: older!Neil Perry x actress!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, language, oral f & m receiving, p in v, fluff, MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s Neil’s first sex scene on a new acting job and not only is he terrified but he’s afraid he’ll be so uncomfortable it will affect his acting. You provide a solution.

word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

You don’t miss the way Neil wipes sweaty palms on the front of his jeans, eyes darting to the filming schedule for the week, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Ever since you both had started filming this movie he hadn’t been nervous, in fact he was a natural, which you appreciated considering you had been doing this your whole life. That’s why his behavior has caught you off guard, the script pages fanning against your fingers as you flip through them in search of the lines you’d have to brush up on this week.

“What’s up with you?” your voice comes out sharp, startling him as he jumps to turn and spot you in your director chair, legs crossed, and script open on your lap.

“Nothing, I’m fine” he says unconvincingly and it almost makes you snort considering an actor should be much better at lying than he is.

“No you’re not, take a seat Bambi” you tease, watching the doe eyed boy nervously approach his own director chair beside you and take a seat. You know he hates when you call him that but someone so innocent looking like him exploring the world of acting on unsteady legs reminded you of the sweet deer.

“I swear I’m fine” he says, stretching his fingers over his thighs, looking anywhere but you as he clearly battles with whatever inner thoughts currently had him this on edge.

“Neil, I’ve been doing this a long time. So let’s skip whatever this is and get to the part where you confide in your experienced friend” his cheeks burn red, taking your words in a context you don’t quite understand yet, because he was currently freaking out about the scene scheduled for tomorrow.

“It’s about tomorrow” he nearly whispers, causing you to lean closer to make sure you don’t miss what he says.

“What about it?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed together as you close the script and plop it on the ground beside your chair. A nervous hand meets the back of his neck, massaging the flesh there as he attempts to find his words.

“I-I’ve never filmed a sex scene before” he whispers again and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your lips, shocked that of all things you two had already filmed together this was the one that shook him the most. “Please, it’s not funny”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just-, usually the men I act with look forward to those scenes the most” you offer, trying to calm your laughter down. Neil shakes his head so you reach to place a hand on his arm, offering as much comfort as you can.

“I’ve never done one before and if I’m being honest the guy who went to an all boys high school wasn’t actively getting laid in college” he tells you and this is something new about him that you hadn’t known, it could explain why he was still so nervous and sweet around women unlike some people in this industry.

“You have… right?” you find yourself asking and Neil wears a panicked expression.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been with a woman. Just not on camera, not like this” he gestures to the script, knowing the scene the two of you were to perform tomorrow was a high stakes passionate moment between lovers.

“Take a breath Perry, it’s easier than you’d think” you assure him, squeezing his arm once more before letting go.

“How could it be easier?” he asks, exasperated and little shaken up about this whole thing. He’s nearly positive that if he had known there was a sex scene he may have never taken the job.

“It’s easier because not only are we professionals but we’re friends. You can’t look at it like an intimate moment being watched by an audience, you have to be comfortable and trust me” you tell him, reaching for your water bottle. Neil lets the words sink in as you take a sip, eyeing how some of the water dribbles along your lip and your tongue darts out to catch it.

“Friends don’t kiss each other” he says with the shake of his head and you snort, twisting the cap back on your water bottle.

“In this business they do, it’s nothing, it’s friendly!” you assure and Neil can’t help but chuckle, finding a semblance of amusement in this minor crisis of his.

“Well if you don’t remember, this is only like my third acting job that isn’t theater” Neil says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and rub his hands together. You watch as his biceps flex under that thin material of his shirt and gulp lightly.

“Alright, here’s the deal. After filming today, come to my place, I’ll cook you dinner and we can…. practice the scene. Make sure you’re comfortable” you suggest, wringing your hands together and hoping the boy doesn’t take it in some weird way. You had been doing suggestive scenes a long time, long before it was probably even appropriate, so this should be nothing. How hard could it be to make Neil comfortable with you?

“Okay, that sounds good. Thank you” he says and you crack a smile even though you were suddenly the one who was nervous. There was nothing normal about cooking dinner for a man and practicing fake sex but then again nothing about this job had been normal so far. So you nod your head and prepare for the worst.

“Yeah, anytime”

It’s taking everything in you to tear your eyes away from them nearly empty casserole dish, the very one you and Neil had just picked at in order to delay the next part of this hangout. You felt silly even making it considering it was the only thing you ever learned how to cook and you had to double the recipe to feed more than one person. It was even more embarrassing digging through your kitchen for more than a single serve dish to cook it in.

“The food was great” Neil offers and it springs you into action, shoving the chair away from the table as you collect the dishes and start towards the sink.

“Thanks, I’m not much of a cook” you say, smiling as he meets you at the sink with his own used plate. He smiles back as you take it from his hands, setting it in along with the other stack.

“I brought my script, you know, just incase. Even though there isn’t a lot of dialogue” he says and you giggle, realizing your were more comfortable with him than you had previously thought.

“Great, why don’t we go to my room” you sound silly saying it, like a teenage girl unsure of how to get a boy in her bedroom but Neil doesn’t even flinch as he nods at you and waits to follow in your direction.

You use the opportunity to snag your empty wine glasses and the rest of the bottle from dinner to bring with you, flashing him a quick smile over your shoulder as he follows you up the stairs and to your room. He’s ever the gentleman as you set the glasses on your dresser, pouring fresh glasses as he eyes the minimal belongings around the room.

“Cozy” is all he says and you smile, handing him a glass while sipping from your own.

“Temporary, I travel too much for work to ever get comfortable in one place” the notion surprises Neil, considering he stayed in the same place for nearly his entire life. Even through all of college and into his adult years he still hadn’t even spent as much time out of Welton as he did in it.

“Sounds lonely” he suggests as he moved to sit on the end of your bed and you tip back the rest of the wine before joining him.

“Maybe, but I’m used to it” you tell him, taking the script from his hands and opening to the pages. If you were to survive this, you’d have to be as professional as you could.

“Alright coach, how do we do this?” he asks, lacing his fingers and stretching his arms out in front of him. You chuckle, shaking your head lightly at the boy who was so nervous about this earlier.

“Well the beauty of a sex scene is we have creative freedom. You only have a few marks you have to hit, other than that there isn’t much direction to follow” you explain, holding out the script to show how the script indicates where they kiss, where their hands should be, certain sounds, in only various places.

“Okay so make it your own but also hit the marks” he nods, glancing at the script as he lets the new information sink in.

“I find it best to count and also pace it as if it was real. So from the moment we first kiss, count to five and then put your hand on my cheek” you explain, pointing to the written direction on the page and Neil nods.

“Okay, so it starts with us at the end of the bed and I lean in for a kiss” Neil says, holding the adorable glasses he wore up to his eyes. You smile as he drops them back down into his front shirt pocket again.

“If it makes you more comfortable we can practice, I promise I don’t bite and I haven’t been told I’m a bad kisser” you shrug and he bellows a laugh, moving the script from out of between you both. He was nervous earlier but he also liked you, thought you were funny, and if you were this willing to work with him there was really nothing he should be afraid of.

“Tell me if I do something wrong” he whispers, ducking in close and tracing the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours. You suck in a sharp breath, unprepared for his causality about the whole thing.

Slowly you tip your head up, eager to chase his lips with your own and finally, just as in the script he meets you, unpracticed lips fumbling together as he kisses you like it’s real. You kiss back slowly, sighing softly as his hand meets your cheek and slowly slides into your hair, fingers lacing through the locks and grabbing a fistful to steady your mouth against his own. If Neil was truly unexperienced it would not be this good.

Following the next part of the script he slowly eases you onto the mattress, chest pushing against your own until your head meets the soft cushion of your bed. For once you’re thankful your character doesn’t have to do much of the work, you just let out soft sounds of delight as his lips trail down your neck and meet the front of your chest. You’re not even sure if you’re acting anymore when you roll your hips into his own.

“We can stop here” he mutters against your skin but you feverishly shake your head, hands meeting his face and keeping him where he was.

“No, it’s okay. We’re gonna see a lot of each other tomorrow, better to just get it out of the way” you urge and he nods, continuing to kiss your neck as he starts shoving your dress up the sides of your hips just like it is in the script.

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable” he mutters, lips kissing along the fabric on your chest and stomach, inching his way down.

This would be the scene where he removed your panties, the camera would be just on your face as you moaned out words of pleasure, as if he was actually giving you head. Ever the actor though, Neil has found himself with his arms hooked under your legs and head awfully close to your underwear where he can undoubtedly see the wet patch beginning to form there. You both freeze, realizing fairly quickly this wasn’t a scene surrounded by a hundred workers, that you were alone and he had made you wet.

“I-I’ve never” Neil suddenly says and your cheeks tint pink, hands already reaching to shove your dress back down and over your hips. “Could I?”

“What?” you can’t help the shocked voice that leaves you as the brunette boy gives you a sheepish look.

“I know we don’t actually have to but I really am comfortable with you and if you’d let me?” he suddenly feels like an idiot, coming over here for help and then nearly begging to eat you out. You can practically see the thoughts racing in his head and you slowly pull your skirt back up.

“Go ahead” you urge and despite the initial shock Neil doesn’t let it falter him as he slips his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly begins to slide them down your legs. If you had known the night would turn out like this you probably would’ve never invited him over but it was already too late, you wanted him hopefully as much as he wanted you.

“Just, make sure I do it right” he says and before you can respond with some sort of agreement his tongue darts out and glides through your folds, a squeak escaping the back of your throat as your head drops back against the mattress.

Neil realizes the reaction you made is a good one so he dives right in, relishing in the taste of you as he licks and sucks, exploring all the new parts of a female body he’d never understood before. When his nose nudges against your clit a loud moan break free from your lips, making Neil’s eyes widen as he dares to do it again in order to confirm that was the spot to get such a reaction out of you. When he realizes it was no mistake he moves to suck hard on that one spot and your eyes nearly roll back in your head.

“Shit Neil, you really sure you haven’t done this?” you pant, whimpering as he slides a finger into you. Neil hums in response, the vibration of it tingling up through your whole body. He doesn’t pull away to give a verbal answer and instead speeds up his movements that you begin to feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you and he moans against your clit do you feel your orgasm near the edge. On instinct your hand flies down to tangle into his hair, thighs slowly tightening around him as his movements never cease. Your other hand is wound so tightly into your sheets you miss the sly look he gives when he realizes you’re about to finish. With one last pump of his fingers and harsh suck to your clit you’re cumming swiftly, tightening around his hand as he continues to coax the orgasm out of you. The whines that leave your mouth are delectable and when your body finally relaxes against the mattress he pulls away, a happy smile on his face as his heart thrums in his chest.

“How was that for practice?” he says, breaking the silence, and you laugh quickly. At least he was able to be confident in this situation.

“I’d say we were a little too professional” you respond, breath coming out in heavy pants and Neil stands from the ground at the end of the bed, smiling down at you. Yet it’s impossible to miss how hard he is in his jeans, the length of him pressed uncomfortably against his zipper, and you gulp. Neil notices your eye line immediately, suddenly nervous all over again.

“You know the next part of the script is me helping you out?” you say in the form of the question even though you both know it’s not. Neil chuckles even though nothing is entirely funny about how your suggestion has suddenly made him harder and the look in your eyes proves you’re not going to let him off that easy.

“You don’t have to, I’ve kinda already stepped over the line” he shyly says, that nervous hand once again returning to the back of his neck. It doesn’t matter though because you’ve already sat up and started tugging at the zipper of his pants, fingers fumbling the button open.

“Shut up for once Perry and let’s finish what we started. Practice or not” and with one fowl sweep your tugging his pants and boxers down in one go. You had never considered the size of him before today but you’re not disappointed, in fact you’re shocked to see he had been hiding all that all this time.

Neil’s the one whining now, member standing tall and proud, grazing his lower abdomen and leaking with precum. You smile at him, hands pushing the T-shirt up and over his head before standing and pushing him down in the place you just were. He shifts, clearly in need of some relief, but you don’t touch him just yet. Instead you reach for the bottom of your dress, slowly tugging it up and over your own head just to reveal you had forgone a bra.

“Oh God” Neil says at the sight and you just grin, hands falling to his thighs as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling where he just was. Neil can barely watch as you place a soft kiss on his thigh, hand rubbing up to his pelvis and dangerously close to where he was desperate for your touch.

“You know Perry, of all things I never expected you to be so desperate” you tease and he goes to give a witty comeback, he really wants to, but you have your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and any words in his mouth are swallowed in an instant. You wait a beat before pumping your hand softly, when you earn a soft moan you finally dart your tongue out and slowly lick the tip.

Neil’s squeezes his eyes shut so tightly there is almost tears coming out of them. You smile at the sight before taking him into your mouth fully. The gasp he lets out is music to your ears and you take as much of him as you can. What you can’t reach you use your hand and just like that Neil Perry is a mess of a man in your bed, when not so long ago this was supposed to be an innocent and professional practice. When you speed up your movements he’s quick to snap his eyes open, sitting up in an attempt to push you off.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep going like this and personally I’d like to be inside you when I do finish” the pet name and the sentiment has your ears burning red but you release him with a pop anyway, arm wiping at your chin as you smile up at him.

“How does it go in the script? Me on top?” Neil blushes and you lift from your knees, crawling above him on the bed. His eyes dart from your own, to your breasts, to where the two of you will meet, and you can nearly see the gears turning in his head.

“God I’m in trouble” is all he says when you grind down onto his length, covering him in your slick.

“Why’s that?” you ask, an innocent look on your face as you settle above him and grind against his length again, not quite lining him up to slip inside yet.

“There’s no way I’m not going to get a hard on, on set tomorrow. Especially after I already know what it’s like to be inside you” he pants, hands gripping your hips as you move slowly against him, nearly killing him.

“You haven’t been inside me yet, in fact we could just stop right now and save you the embarrassment” you start to say lifting up, but his hands grip tighter, and bring you back down. You’re sure he might leave finger marks but at this point you don’t really care.

“Baby, I am painfully hard and this either ends with me inside you or me awkwardly going to the bathroom to resolve this little issue, and I’d much prefer the first one” the sentence makes you giggle loudly and Neil finally breaks a smile, grinding his hips up into your own and you’re quickly reminded of the sheer length of him nestled deliciously between you.

“I prefer it too” is all you say before you grab his member without warning and line it up with your entrance. Neil squeezes your hips tightly and watches with wide eyes as you slide down his length. Slowly, slowly, until you’re flush against him and your head is tipping back at the sensation.

It’s better than he could’ve ever imagined and without you looking he gains the courage to reach and grope your tits, shamelessly feeling them up. The action makes you grind against him and he stiffens, trying to make sure he lasts as long as he could. He didn’t want this to end. Yet you seemed to have enjoyed the feeling as well and without warning you’re grinding quickly against him, using his hold on your chest for balance. When the feeling doesn’t become enough you place your hands on his own chest and lift off him. His hands instantly leave your breasts and return to your hips where he guides you back down on him.

You stay like this for a while, filthy moans leaving both of your lips as you bounce on his length, your eyes rolling back every time he hits that spot inside you. When Neil is sure he can’t take it anymore he’s flipping you onto the bed, hovering above you and giving no warning as he starts drilling into you. The moan you let out is pornographic and as he continues to drive into you he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. When he feels you tightening against him he smiles and meets his lips with your own.

“Come on baby, finish one more time for me” he encourages before pulling back and thrusting into you faster. When his fingers meet your clit and begin to rub, you feel the coil tighten in your stomach, ready for release.

“Shit Neil” you gasp, hands gripping his arms and holding on tightly. Neil smiles and never slows his pace.

“Come on baby, so fucking pretty like this” he says breathily, moaning softly in your face and it’s enough for the coil to snap. You tighten down around his length, legs trembling as they try to close together and he never ceases his movements as you cum hot and fast.

“I’m not gonna last much longer” he warns and you wrap your legs around him, indicating to finish in you, and it causes his hips to stutter. When your lips meet his own he’s finishing, warm ropes filling your inside, and he pushes in deeply once more as he settles against you.

You both lay there for a moment, letting the weight of what just happened settle in. You had never let a coworker step over that line before but it wasn’t regret you were feeling. In fact your stomach was warm with desire that hadn’t quite burned out yet. You had found Neil charming and kind from the start but you had not realized the feelings that bubbled there all along. Brewing into something much bigger and deeper than you ever realized. Something that made you go through with what you just did.

“So that just happened” Neil breaks the silence and you giggle loudly, hand falling against the back of his head and keeping him against you. The warmth spreading from your stomach and all the way up your chest.

“I told you there was no reason to be nervous” you say, fingers grazing through his hair and he chuckles, arms wrapping tighter around your bare waist.

“That may be true but now I’m more nervous everyone on set will see how into you I really am” Neil admits, lips brushing against your chest softly and ending with a soft kiss.

“Good acting is all, Oscar worthy” you say and he laughs again, head lifting to look in your eyes. They’re so full of adoration your heart stutters in your chest and you realize just how gone for him you really are.

“Hopefully that wasn’t all it was, acting” Neil says softly and you shake your head, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“No, that was real” you admit and he smiles before leaning and pressing a firm kiss against your lips. One that conveyed he had no interest to stop kissing you after this moment. Maybe you were done for, in over your head, but at least you had this moment. A feeling, the idea of hope, that you could hold onto forever.

“It was real for me too”

250 notes · View notes

darkmatilda · 24 days ago

Text

╰┈➤ HALLOWEEN TRADITION

in which one you and reid match your outfits every year for halloween

tw: mention of shoo!ing, dea!h of an animal

contents: spencer reid x fem!reader, they're both obviously in love with each other, time skips

words: 7.5k

disclaimer: it's my first fanfiction written in english.

a year ago

“Oh, I already ordered. Caramel cappuccino, almond milk, double amount of vanilla syrup and cinnamon sprinkled on top, am I right?

“Your photographic memory is sometimes just terrifying”

“Thank you. By the way, are you still afraid to order this coffee in front of Rossi?”

“Yep. I always take regular macchiato. The last thing I need in work is his judgemental, Italian look…”

Meanwhile, as Reid let out a short laugh, you quickly took in your surroundings: the brick walls and oak tables, the decorative pumpkins by the entrance, and the menu hanging above the barista’s counter, adorned with (artificial) leaves. Just like every corner of this trashy coffee shop was trying to remind you about autumn.

One thing about you — you were an extreme autumn lover, who unfortunately was allergic to pumpkins, so you couldn’t fit the autumn white girl stereotype completely, by ordering a pumpkin spice latte. And you would rather die than wear a sweater. All of them were scratchy.

“So” started Reid, hitting a notebook cover with a pen. "I spent all of last evening and more than half of this morning writing down ideas for our Halloween costume this year. I made sure none of them were too similar to our last year's outfits or anything our friends have ever worn to make sure we’ll be the best-dressed people at the party”

“God, Reid, you really took it seriously this year” you raised your eyebrows, shocked and full of admiration at the same time. “And how many ideas did you find?”

“143”

“143?!” you repeated, assuming that he was just joking. Spencer was looking at you with a deadly serious face. “Are fucking crazy? How are we going to choose between 143 ideas? I can’t even choose what socks to wear in the morning…”

“144” he corrected. “When you were saying that I came with another one, Tyler and Marla from Fight Club…”

You had this tendency to forget the names of fictional characters (though, somehow, you could name every American serial killer who ever existed and everyone from your high school class. It was both funny and slightly terrifying that, in two cases, those names overlapped) so it took you a moment to realize who Reid was talking about.

“A guy with a red leather jacket? And this woman who was always smoking?”

“Their names are Tyler Durden and Marla Singer. I don't mean to sound rude, but you made me watch this movie and claimed it was one of your favorites, yet you don’t even remember the main characters' names?"

You shrugged your shoulders. You could say nothing in your defense, that was just the way you were. A subtle smile danced on your lips.

“When I started working with you” you meant the whole BAU “I couldn’t remember all of your names. About two months later I slowly started to recognize them because of how you were addressing each other but because everyone was calling Hotch by his surname I didn’t know his actual name for, like, years…”

Disbelief showed on Spencer’s face but then got replaced with amusement.

“Years?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me because of my memory problem, mrs. I know the moon signs of everyone around me…”

He raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

“How could I dare, ms. I don’t remember my boss's name even though we’ve been working together for five years…”

“I couldn’t remember it back then! Shame on you, Reid. I shared my secret with you and you immediately started laughing…”

“And what did you want me to do? Make you an appointment with a neurologist?”

That's what our usual conversation looked like. Like a professional ping pong game. Year after a year, month after a month, day after a day you were just becoming better and better players.

Waitress came along your table, setting your orders on the table. You always had to smell your coffee first, cinnamon aroma ticked your nose.

“"Not that it means anything, but my memory problems have worsened since I met you." you said, taking the first sip of a coffee.

“What do you mean by that?“

“Well, I don’t have the need to remember anything when you remember literally everything that comes your way. You've spoiled me a bit in this regard."

Spencer smiled softly, with a little bit of pride, caused by your words.

“ Always at your service” he declared. Suddenly his back went straight, as he probably reminded himself about something. ”Did you call your brother today? It’s his birthday…

“ No way” you jumped on your seat and immediately started looking for your phone to check what day it was. 14 October. “God, Reid you’re right. I completely forgot…Have I already told you how much I love you?

You standed up, ready to leave the coffee, declaring that you’ll be back in a moment. People around were having their lunch. The whole place became too noisy for a birthday phone call with your older brother, who lived in a different state.

“Not today” He replied shortly.

“So, I’m telling you now, Spence. You’re the best friend I could ever imagine…”

As you were busy with dialing the right phone number and trying to wear your coat at the same time, you couldn’t see how his smile faded after the last sentence.

a week later

“It cost me like half of my salary” You said, tossing your dark hair back so it wouldn't accidentally catch fire while lighting the candle. A damn expensive candle, as you mentioned. “Another half goes for that little shit”

With a nod, you indicated the ginger cat that had already settled comfortably next to Spencer. He didn’t take his eyes off the laptop screen, checking something with a furrowed brow. With one hand, almost automatically, he gently scratched Mr. Cinnamon Roll behind the ear.

“It’s made only with fully natural ingredients. Vegan friendly. People with migraines friendly. Almost everyone friendly, except of your wallet” You continued your speech, agitated, recalling the guy in the store who refused to sell you a simple, cheap autumn candle, explaining its poor quality, and convinced you to buy the most expensive one he had.

Finally, the wick caught fire.

“So, you’ve got something?“

It was a late evening after work when you both felt exhausted, yet you decided to meet at your apartment to search online for essentials for your Halloween costumes. The idea of going as a couple from Fight Club had won.

You were supposed to be Marla, and he was to be Tyler. You weren’t a couple or anything like that, but for the past five years, it had been your tradition to wear matching outfits for the halloween party organized by your team. Usually, various other friends would join, and having more people allowed for a best costume contest, which you nearly won every year.

“Yeah, but you probably won't like that, considering that you’ve just confessed to spending your entire paycheck”

You set the candle down on the small coffee table in your living room and joined him on the couch, almost crushing Mr. Cinnamon Ball. He didn’t look offended by that — this cat would rather be crushed than leave Spencer’s side. Somehow, he loved him more than the hand that fed him.

Sitting so close to your friend, your head nearly touched his shoulder, but neither of you minded.You had known each other for four years. You met regularly to watch movies or just to chat, and more than once, you had fallen asleep with your head resting on his arm, that was way more comfortable than any pillow. The rest of your team sometimes joked about your close relationship, but in your opinion, it was only because you were almost the same age! And maybe a bit because you felt the most comfortable in his presence, you understood each other the best, and he made you laugh the most…

For God's sake, why did you start thinking about that at that moment? When you were so close to each other and his gentle scent was slowly enveloping you...

Okay, you’ve thought of him as more than just a friend once or twice. Like that time he stayed over at your place, and you didn’t want him to sleep on the uncomfortable couch, so you shared your bed. You felt so good waking up next to him and regretted that it was just a one-time experience…

You realized he must have said something to you, but you were too lost in thought to hear it.

Instead of repeating himself, Reid pushed the laptop closer to you. On the screen was a website featuring an auction for….the original red leather jacket from Fight Club! You almost screamed. If you had won her over, the victory would have to be yours...

Your enthusiasm faded like a blown-out candle when you saw the final bid amount.

“What the fuck? That's more than the total of our annual salaries…”

"Actually, it’s twenty thousand less than..."

You both fell silent in disappointment. Then, a very silly idea came to your mind.

“Reid” you started slowly.

“"Oh no, I know this tone. You're either about to say something extremely absurd or something inappropriate, and I don’t know which one scares me more."

"But listen. We'll wait for the auction to end and for someone to buy that jacket. Then we’ll talk to Garcia and convince her to track down the buyer. We'll go, knock on the door, and when they open it..."

"We’ll politely ask to borrow it?"

"No, sweet boy, we’ll show our badges and say the auction was illegal, and we need to confiscate the jacket."

Spencer burst out laughing.

"Your ideas are brilliant. But how are you going to explain this to Hotch afterward?"

“He won’t find out”

“He find out”

“Okay, you’re right. He’ll probably find out”

A silence full of smiles fell between you.

Spencer closed the auction page and started browsing something else when you let out a laugh at your own thoughts.

“Okay, I have another idea that won’t cost either of us our jobs,” you said, capturing his attention. He tore his gaze away from the laptop and focused completely on you and your trembling lips, which hinted that you weren’t going to say anything serious “The beginning of the plan sounds the same but instead of showing our badges, you’ll give him a blowjob… “

“Fuck you!” he shouted, unable to stop himself from laughing. At the sight of his expression, a wave of laughter hit you so hard that Mr. Cinnamon Roll jumped off the couch and ran away from his sick owner. “I’m not giving any random guy a blowjob in exchange for a jacket. In exchange for the original diaries of Einstein, well, I wouldn’t say no; I would think about it, but not for a jacket!”

“But it’s the jacket from Fight Club, Spence. Brad Pitt was wearing it” you encouraged him, amused. "Besides, how do you know some guy will buy it? It could be a woman.”

Spencer rolled his eyes and was ready to continue arguing on the topic, but suddenly it seemed as if he changed his mind. His expression grew more serious.

"Actually, it doesn't change much, but that's not the point. What worries me more is that I've lost my touch. Maybe you'd want to replace me in this? The buyer might not be satisfied."

He said it in a tone as if he were talking about a truly serious, real transaction, which only amused you even more. Also pretending to be serious, you patted him on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, Spence. I'm sure you'll manage just fine.'"

"Really? What makes you think that?"

You considered making a joke, but then you realized what you were talking about while studying him. After a whole day at work, he looked... surprisingly... attractive? With slightly tousled hair and two buttons of his shirt undone…

"‘Nothing,” you replied. For the first time in his presence, you felt slightly embarrassed to continue the topic. Your closeness on the couch didn’t help at all, and you regretted scaring off Mr. Cinnamon.

“No, something makes you think that”

The tension between you escalated to the point where you weren't sure if he was still joking. You realized that in this silence, every change in your breathing would be audible, so you tried to control it.

What makes you think that? Spencer just seemed that way. I mean, you often talked about your relationships, and you assumed that his potential partner would lack nothing.

Embarrassed, you wanted to say something when he suddenly burst out laughing.

"Jesus, we were talking about blowing somebody for a jacket. Why did you get so scared?

You hit him on the arm so hard that he let out a groan.

"I didn't get scared! You just suddenly became so weird that I didn't know if you were joking or what”

"‘Of course I was joking. Why would I ask you that seriously?” he asked, and you noticed that he also carried a hint of embarrassment.

"I have no idea. Maybe you wanted to know my opinion or something” You desperately tried to return to the atmosphere that had existed between you just a moment ago, one that felt more friendly.

Spencer swallowed hard. It was clear he also preferred to drop the topic.

“I don’t know why you would have any opinion on that, but let’s get back to what we were talking about before you switched into perverted weirdo mode...’"

After his words, you had to hide your face in the sleeve of his shirt, unable to contain your laughter. He seemed surprised by your reaction.

“ What? What did I say this time?”

“Perverted weirdo” you blurted it out, almost choking on your words.” You called me a perverted weirdo…”

“Well, considering your recent ambiguous comments…”

“I'm going to tell Emily about this. Hey girl, you know how Spencer called me last time? A perverted weirdo…Oh no, I got your shirt dirty with my makeup… “

Spencer looked at the sleeve of his shirt and shrugged, saying, "It's nothing."

"No," you shook your head, trying to rub the stain off his shirt with your fingers, but of course it didn’t work. "I spilled coffee on your pants last time. Take it off; I'll wash it today."

"It's late; you’re not going to deal with washing my shirt right now. Let's get back to looking for our costumes."

You agreed and once again found comfort leaning on his shoulder. He still held the laptop on his lap, and whenever you wanted to type on the keyboard, you had to rest your elbows on his body, on the lower part of his stomach. Why were you even paying attention to that? You shaked your head and leaned over the laptop when you found the perfect shoes for Marla's costume.

In that position, you couldn't see Spencer, but you felt he was almost completely still. After a moment, however, he slowly reached for your hair, gently brushing it with his fingers as if checking its texture.

"We don't need to buy you a wig, right? Your hair will do just fine."

You murmured in agreement as he continued to play with your hair, probably unaware of how much he was distracting you. You had been staring at the picture of the shoes for five minutes and couldn’t remember what you wanted to check. Ah, the size!

"Reid, we have a problem," you said. "They don't have my size. I checked to see if a larger size would be available, since I could stuff them somehow, but the smallest is a 10!"

"Your shoe size is 7; in such large ones, you'll either look ridiculous or kill yourself before even arriving to the party…Do they have to be those specific ones? Maybe you can find some others..."

"They have to be those! They're identical to the ones Helena Bonham Carter wore."

Spencer sighed thoughtfully. His breath tickled the back of your head, which distracted you slightly once again. Anyway, this one time, you came up with a solution faster than his brilliant mind…

You turned your head toward him — after he stroked your hair you were very, very close to each other. The flame from the candle on the table reflected in his eyes, filling the area with the scent of cinnamon that had lingered for a while. When your face unexpectedly came just in front of him, he looked at you with a surprise and a gaze that he had never given you before. It was as if he were trying to stop himself from doing something, while at the same time, a voice in his ear incessantly urged him to go ahead.

You looked away to avoid doing something foolish. You could feel warmth on your neck and cheeks. Finally, you remembered what you wanted to ask.

"Spence, what’s your shoe size?"

5 years ago

It all started when the rest of your team found out about Penelope and Morgan's Halloween tradition. Every year, the two of them held a movie marathon of the scariest films they could find, watching them until sunrise.

"Why didn’t you invite any of us? I love watching horror movies with friends!" Prentiss exclaimed indignantly.

You were on board a private jet. You had been working with this team for only a few days — in fact, this was your first trip with them to work in the field.

The prospect of solving the case had you feeling stressed, and you were also wondering if you would find common ground with your team. You lagged slightly behind, pretending to read a book while actually listening to all the conversations around you. You wanted to get to know everyone better. Someone sat down beside you, leaning in to read the title of your book.

"Rebecca. Have you gotten to the part where it turns out Maxim killed his wife?"

You looked shocked at the second youngest member of the team. You had a serious problem with remembering names, so you only knew his last name. Reid was a tall man with longer hair, dressed in a vest with a shirt peeking out from underneath. Until now, you hadn't formed much of an opinion about him, but that was about to change — he had just spoiled the ending of the book for you.

“No, I haven’t gotten to this part! “

An older man in a black suit chuckled quietly to himself.

"Guys, listen up," said the brunette with bangs, wearing a tight red shirt. "It just came out that Morgan and Penelope have their own secret Halloween tradition."

The woman mentioned was present only on the laptop screen. She was working with you remotely and seemed really nice to you.

"Sweetheart, we weren't trying to hide anything from you; it just happened that we didn’t mention it..."

"That’s exactly what hiding is," Reid added, giving you an apologetic look for spoiling the book.

"What do you say to all of us getting together this Halloween? The whole team?" asked a muscular man dressed in gray, sitting across from Prentiss with his elbow casually resting on the table. "With a special invitation for you, newbie."

Saying this, he winked at you. You were surprised, but still smiled. Are there better circumstances for getting to know your team than a party? Everyone around you approached this idea.

a week later

You stared at your phone in fear after just ending the call. JJ said something came up and she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party. You knew her best out of the whole team and had hoped that with her there, you would feel more at ease. Most importantly, you were supposed to wear matching outfits. You realized your breath had quickened slightly. You weren't sure if anyone else besides you planned to dress up. After all, they were mostly older than you — maybe they weren't into that anymore?

Back in high school, you were the only one who showed up in costume, and you felt embarrassed the whole evening walking around in a zombie farmer outfit while all the other girls wore mini skirts and beautiful, subtle makeup. You didn’t want to go through that again, but making this costume had taken you a lot of time. Recently, you and JJ had been enchanted by the animated movie Corpse Bride, and you planned to dress up as the title character and her rival, Victoria. Since you loved dressing up for Halloween, you chose the more challenging costume. You bought a cheap white dress that you styled to look more tattered. You applied pale blue makeup and heavily contoured your cheekbones. You even managed to get a veil.

In fifteen minutes, you were supposed to be at Morgan's house. If you removed the makeup, you wouldn’t have time to do anything else. You contemplated what to do. Ultimately, you decided it would be a shame to waste your hard work, and soon you found yourself in the car, heading to the address you were given. As you parked, you felt stress start to take control of you.

You needed to sit in silence for a moment, so you turned off the engine and stared at the empty sidewalk in front of you. Morgan lived in a large house in a quiet neighborhood, where all the homes were spaced far enough apart to host small gatherings without bothering anyone.

Suddenly, someone appeared by the driver's window. You screamed in surprise, your thoughts racing back to all the cases when women were killed in their own cars.

You quickly realized that it wasn't another UNSUB. That one wouldn’t have screamed alongside you.

“Damn it, Reid, you scared me!”

“You scared me too” he managed to say, placing a hand on his chest. He glanced toward the house. "Weird that Morgan hasn't come out to help yet."

“Maybe the music is too loud and he didn’t hear. There are quite a few cars. Did they invite that many people?” you wondered as you got out of the car.

Reid glanced at your costume. He wasn’t dressed up at all, just wearing a plain dark gray blazer and a shirt.

"Is that some fashion trend, or are you dressed as a zombie bride?"

“Neither, actually,” you replied, feeling stressed about being the only one in costume. “It’s from the cartoon Corpse Bride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he admitted as you both headed toward the entrance of the house.

“It’s a great animation,” you recommended. “You should check it out. Although, from what I’ve noticed, you prefer reading more.”

“Not entirely. I like movies too, but I rarely choose cartoons,” he said, ringing the doorbell.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you replied.

A very short girl you'd never seen before opened the door. She seemed slightly tipsy, confirming your suspicions that people from outside the team had also been invited.

"Oh, you dressed up! How cute!" she said, delighted to see you both, even though she didn’t know you. "Wait, I think I even know who you are. Emily and Victor from Corpse Bride?"

She pointed at the two of you, at your dress and his gray blazer. You exchanged glances, realizing she must have mistaken his usual clothes for a costume.

"No, we’re not…" Reid began to explain.

"Actually, I was supposed to match costumes with JJ…"

But she wasn’t listening. She let you in and shouted through the whole house,

"Look at their matching outfits!"

Everyone gathered around to see you, and you endured the whistles and applause with growing embarrassment.

Penelope appeared right beside you, placing her hands on your shoulders and inspecting your makeup closely. "Oh, sweetheart, you really went all out. This must have taken you ages."

"Which is more than I can say for you," joked Prentiss, holding a beer bottle and pointing it at Reid. "You decided to keep it a secret for a better effect, I assume?"

Reid tried once more to explain that it wasn’t intentional, but you stopped him with a nudge. He looked at you, puzzled.

"Let’s go get a drink," you suggested.

Not waiting for a response, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him along.

"I’m not going to be the only one in costume, so you’re going to stick with me and pretend we planned this all along."

He let out a surprised laugh, thinking you were joking at first.

"Wait, seriously? So… I’m Victor now?"

"Yes, you’re Victor, and you accidentally proposed to me. By the way, I’m dead."

"Okay," he blinked, processing the information. "I definitely need to watch that movie."

You spent almost the entire evening sticking close to each other. Without you by his side, Spencer looked like he wasn’t wearing a costume at all. And without Spencer next to you, you felt a bit awkward.

A few hours later, the two of you were sitting alone in the kitchen, drinking non-alcoholic cocktails and talking about… psychology. Not exactly a party topic, but somehow that’s where your conversation about favorite sodas had ended up.

“Next year, we have to do this again. I mean, plan a costume together. On purpose this time."

Spencer nodded.

"I think I even have an idea."

And that was how your tradition began.

now

He said Halloween is for kids.

Starting from the beginning, everyone always asks how you met Travis. Well, your story has some potential for a romantic comedy — if only you were a bit more attractive and funnier to make it more watchable on screen. And maybe if there were some breathtaking plot twist. But real life has little in common with a romantic comedy, and you didn’t meet under any crazy circumstances. You only had potential. It happened during your rehabilitation.

Perhaps we need to go back a bit further. Six months ago, Emily passed away, and you weren’t even there for the funeral because, in the rescue attempt to free her from Doyle’s hands, you were shot. Seriously wounded. You spent two weeks in a coma. That might not seem like a long time, but when you woke up, it felt like years had passed. Everyone around you seemed so distant, changed, almost as if you’d suddenly appeared in an entirely different reality.

The following weeks were even more blurred, like rain hitting fiercely against the window with such frequency that the droplets slowly merged into a single cohesive stream. You weren't accepting visitors while in the hospital; something was wrong with you. Perhaps it was due to the grief and shock from Emily's passing, along with the trauma. You didn't want to return to that job; you were too afraid of the risks. Of dying yourself or losing someone from your team and having to relive it all over again. Fortunately, you quickly received an offer for a transfer. An office job, terribly boring, but there was something in that monotony that filled you with a sense of safety. You hated it, but you were afraid to engage in anything else.

Before you took the job, you had to go through rehabilitation. It was led by Travis, eleven years older than you, which stunned your older brother when you introduced them. “You’re dating a guy older than me?” he asked, shocked. They didn’t hit it off, but you didn’t worry too much about that. Everything in your life had changed, and being in a relationship with an older, more mature guy made you feel more stable. And since so many things had changed, why not go all in? You moved in with him. Just as you were starting to climb out of the pit, another tragedy struck. Mr. Cinnamon Roll was diagnosed with stomach cancer and passed away despite treatment.

Since that moment, you almost stopped talking to your old team. You still loved them — they were like family to you, but whenever faced with life's struggles, you felt that burning need for isolation. On the day Mr. Cinnamon Roll died, you received a message from Spencer, asking how you were doing and suggesting a meeting. You stared at your phone for hours, and ultimately replied to him only the next morning with a brief, "Sorry, I didn't notice you wrote." He responded just as briefly. He was also suffering due to the circumstances and probably didn't have the energy to chase after his friend who openly refused to give him any attention.

You pushed him away because you weren’t ready to confront what you were feeling. Something had happened between you during that Halloween party, shortly before Emily's death. After that, you acted as if nothing had occurred, but both of you knew that you needed to talk about what to do with your relationship. But before you had the chance, there was Doyle, your accident, then Travis, and it seemed that everything that had ever been between you was lost. A new agent, Ashley, joined the BAU. You knew her — you were around the same age, and sometimes you caught yourself wondering if something might blossom between her and Reid.

You thought that if you accepted the loss of your previous life, it would be easier to move on. It was the opposite. Day by day, you felt more and more depressed, empty inside. This morning, you went into a café to buy coffee. While waiting for your order, you looked at the tiny pumpkins on the counter and realized it was Halloween—the holiday you used to love so much. This moved you, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a spark of life within you. You felt like you wanted to do something. Dress up as a character from a cheap horror movie, have a few drinks. Maybe even go trick-or-treating, hiding behind a mask like kids do. You did that with Spencer two years ago, but no one wanted to give that tall guy any candy.

You shared this idea with Travis.

And he said that Halloween is for kids.

a year ago

“How the fuck I’m suppose to walk in these….”

As soon as you saw him in a black dress that reached mid-thigh (it should have been longer, but you bought it when you still assumed you would be the one wearing it), a short fur coat of the same color, and sunglasses, you nearly choked on your laughter. And when he added black heeled ankle boots and started cursing their practicality, you fell onto the couch, unable to stand on your legs any longer.

Mr. Cinnamon Roll watched his antics with curiosity.

“Run away, little one,” Spencer advised him. “Those heels are so sharp I might accidentally kill you.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I wear shoes with higher heels every day.”

“Your spine will thank you for it in ten years.”

“Alright, mom.”

The deadly shoes landed on the floor. You were planning to leave in an hour and a half, once you finished perfecting your costumes. Until then, Spencer had no intention of risking his life by parading around in them. He lay down on the couch next to you, the dress ungracefully riding up.

“Now it’s your turn to change,” he said, pointing to the Tyler Durden costume lying on the table. “And mine to laugh.”

“First, I wanted to do makeup.”

“Is that necessary?”

“Are you kidding? What kind of Marla Singer would it be without a bold smokey eye?”

“Fine by you,” he muttered, looking at the watch on his wrist. “One hour and thirty-three minutes. Will we make it?”

“Relax. Remember, for a better impression, we need to be a little late.”

You disappeared for a moment into your bathroom, only to return with a makeup bag in hand. You had bought a new eyeshadow palette specifically for this occasion. Tilting your head to the side, you looked at your friend, wondering in which position you would be most comfortable working on him.

“Okay, lean against the couch,” you instructed, feeling like a professional makeup artist. “And don’t look at me like I’m a mad scientist trying to perform some dangerous operation on you.”

“From my perspective, that’s exactly what it looks like. A mad scientist and a dangerous operation. Just don’t accidentally poke me in the eye.”

“God, Reid, I’m not going to do this with a knife…”

You stood in front of the couch, facing him. Following your instruction, he rested his head, but as soon as you tried to apply the first product on his eyelid, you felt that you weren’t doing it precisely. You sighed.

“It’s uncomfortable for me to work this way. I have a better idea. Lie down.”

Reid looked at you with raised eyebrows but obediently lay down on the couch. You sat on a free spot next to him, leaning over his face. You were glad he closed his eyes. It would be awkward to be this close and still have to endure his sharp gaze. Your hair brushed against his neck. A gentle smile appeared on his face as soon as the brush touched his skin.

“This is quite nice,” he said.

You didn’t respond, focused on turning him into a doppelgänger for Marla Singer. You would sooner die of embarrassment than admit it out loud, but you deliberately prolonged the entire process. You felt as if you were working on a painting. Additionally, you enjoyed the awareness of having him beneath you, so defenseless and completely unaware, that you wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

You would simply press your lips together to see what would happen. There was a possibility he would push you away, but even considering that, you were ready to do it. You didn’t even try to push those thoughts away. They had completely dominated your mind, and you were just observing them from the sidelines, wondering where they came from. Throughout your years of friendship, you had never experienced them. Or rather, you had experienced them so rarely that you didn’t consider them significant. After all, everyone sometimes feels like kissing their friend. The problem was that for quite some time, the only thing you had been thinking about was his lips on yours.

Spencer opened one eye. You felt as if he had caught you doing something wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

You brushed aside the one strand of his hair that had strayed onto his forehead.

“About one of my friends.”

“You look worried. Can I ask why thinking about this person makes you feel that way?”

You let out a quiet laugh. You wondered if he knew you were talking about him. He should have.

“I doubt you want to hear about it,” you replied evasively. However, after a moment, you broke down and added something more. “Do you ever feel like you want to do something stupid so badly that you feel like you're physically shaking, even though you know it’s wrong?”

He frowned slightly. You accidentally applied too much eyeshadow, licking the tip of your finger to wipe away the excess product from his skin.

“Can you give a specific example of such behavior?”

You shrugged.

“I don’t know. Kissing a friend, for example.”

He smiled gently.

“Well, in that case, yes. All the time.”

You exhaled through your nose, feeling a painful tightness in your chest. You didn’t know what was happening to you.

“Done,” you said, abruptly rising from the couch. “I need to change. We don’t have much time.”

“There’s still an hour and eighteen…”

You grabbed your costume from the table and hid in the bathroom, not hearing the end of his sentence.

one hour and eighteen minutes later

Usually, nighttime drives had a calming effect on you, but this time it was completely the opposite. You were in a small space with Spencer, with whom you had just had… let’s call it a complicated conversation. You felt every part of your body tense.

You hated yourself. You hated that you didn’t understand what you were feeling. You hated that you didn’t know what you wanted. You felt like banging your head against the steering wheel. Maybe the sound of the horn would bring you back to your senses.

Reid just stayed silent, inscrutable.

“I’m afraid we’ll be right on time,” he said after clearing his throat. “And you wanted to be a little late.”

“So what should I do now, drive around the city for the next ten minutes?” you asked, slightly irritably.

He shrugged stiffly.

“Or stop and wait. It’s a much more environmentally friendly option.”

In the end, you pulled up outside Morgan’s house, where the annual Halloween party was set to take place for the fifth year in a row. You sighed with nostalgia and turned off the engine. You might have been in the middle of an emotional crisis, but you still intended to win that contest. And that meant waiting out those ten minutes.

You adjusted the sleeves of your red leather jacket.

“Remember when we dressed up as Harry and Voldemort?” you asked suddenly. That had been your first intentional costume pairing.

Spencer let out a short laugh.

“For the next two days, I couldn’t wash off all that white paint,” he muttered, reaching into the black purse you had lent him. Spencer had been outraged that mini dresses had no pockets, leaving him with nowhere to keep his things. You frowned when you noticed he had taken out his wallet. From it, he pulled out a photo taken on that memorable day, showing the two of you standing in front of the fireplace at Morgan’s cabin. You had your arms around each other, Voldemort and Harry Potter.

“You carry our photo in your wallet?” you asked, touched, admiring the picture with delight.

Slightly embarrassed, he nodded.

“And not just ours,” he reached into his wallet again, this time pulling out a photo of Mr. Cinnamon Roll curled up on your lap. You leaned closer to Spencer to get a better look, almost forgetting about your earlier conversation.

You extended your hand, but instead of taking the photo, you just grabbed his hand. He squeezed it tightly and briefly kissed the back of it.

“It’s been ten minutes,” he announced, letting go of your hand. “We can go inside now…”

He trailed off as you suddenly grabbed a piece of his fur and pulled him as close as possible. You felt as if someone stronger had taken control of your body and finally did what you had wanted to do for a long time. You were kissing him.

At first, he froze as if spellbound, completely surrendering to the pressure of your lips. You pulled back a little, unsure if you should continue.

“Why did you stop?” he asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

He laughed right into your mouth and resumed the kiss in a hungry way.

“I wanted to do it earlier,” you admitted after a moment. His eyes were shining, and yours probably were too. “When I was putting on your makeup. You had your eyes closed, and it was all I could think about.”

His hand rested on your neck, his thumb gently drawing circles on your sensitive skin. You had your arms around his neck, entwined like strands of hair in a braid.

“Good thing you didn’t,” he said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “I’d venture to guess we wouldn’t have even made it to this party.”

“Don’t get too bold with your assumptions. I wouldn’t let such good costumes go to waste…”

He kissed you one more time, pulling you close by the chin. Okay, he was right. If you’d done this earlier, you’d probably still be at your apartment, entirely wrapped up in each other. In fact, you’d lost all interest in going to that part

You spent a good few minutes smiling at each other, foreheads touching. You felt the need to talk to him — to make sure this wasn’t just a release of the tension that had been building between you recently, but something more. Before you knew it, though, you were walking arm-in-arm toward Morgan’s house.

“This year, you’ve outdone yourselves,” he commented as he finally came out of his shock at seeing Spencer in heels. He, too, was in costume. For the past four years, it was almost impossible to find anyone there without one. You could say you were the ones who started the trend.

Without letting go of his hand, you encouraged him to spin around in a circle. All evening, you wondered if people noticed that something had changed between you or if they just assumed it was all part of the act. His hand almost never leaving your waist, your conversations with faces close together, the prolonged disappearance in the bathroom under the pretense of fixing his makeup.

“Have you thought about what we’ll dress up as next year?” he asked, pinning you against the upstairs wall, his hand slipped under the fabric of your loose shirt.

You looked into his eyes thoughtfully.

“I liked the idea of Mia and Vincent from Pulp Fiction.”

“Mia and Vincent. White shirts and fake blood. Don’t you think it’s a bit too simple? We should raise the bar each year.”

You rolled your eyes.

“So, what is your suggestion?”

now

You lay in bed next to the sleeping Travis, staring at his bare back.

Every day, he started with a run around six in the morning, so he didn’t let you drag him anywhere in the evening, despite it being Friday. You tried to fall asleep, but you knew it was useless. You’d always been a night owl. Besides, it was Halloween—your favorite holiday, and for the first time in years, you were spending it with your head on the pillow at 10 p.m.

You sighed and quietly, so as not to wake him, went to the living room to watch some show on TV and maybe have some ice cream. Sitting on the couch, you constantly felt the urge to reach out and pet Mr. Cinnamon Roll, who used to keep watch by your side. Each time, it ended with you touching the cold leather of the couch instead. You buried your face in your hands, stretching the skin on your cheeks.

You couldn’t live in this emptiness any longer.

It happened so suddenly. One moment, you were curled up on the couch, and the next, you were slipping back into the bedroom to grab one of Travis’s plain white shirts from the closet. Just regular black jeans. The only thing missing was fake blood, but you decided you’d just be a more polite version of Mia.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest as you drove. Doubts crept in, and the absurdity of your behavior caught up with you. It was highly likely that your previous team had stopped organizing those events due to circumstances. And even if they were still happening, why would you feel invited? You had limited your contact with them, almost cutting it off in recent months.

Your breath was painful as you pressed your hand against your side, where a scar from a gunshot wound marked your skin. The red light of the traffic signal turned into the flashing lights of an ambulance. You were inside, bleeding, the whole world blurring around you.

You tried to calm yourself so as not to accidentally cause an accident. However, that tragic feeling didn’t leave you even when you found yourself there again. For the fifth year in a row, on Halloween night, at Morgan’s doorstep.

Derek opened the door for you, wearing a plain t-shirt. No music was coming from inside, and no cars were gathering around. He blinked in surprise at the sight of you.

You greeted him sadly, ready to throw out some excuse, though none came to mind. You had shown up unannounced, unwelcome, when he was probably spending the evening at home working or resting. A flush of embarrassment covered your cheeks.

Before either of you could say anything more, Penelope appeared behind him. She wore a headband adorned with little pumpkin decorations.

“Morgan, we have a serious problem with picking a movie because Hotch…”

She stopped, stunned by your presence. But a moment later, she shouted your name and swept you into her embrace.

“Oh, why didn’t anyone tell me you were coming!”

Over her shoulder, you could see Derek’s gentle smile.

“We went back to basics, and instead of throwing a party, we’re just watching movies,” he explained, eyeing you closely. “But costumes are always welcome. You’re not even the only one who thought to dress up.”

Both of them pulled you into the living room, where the rest of the team was arguing about which movie to watch. As all eyes turned to you, you felt like someone had forcefully shoved you onto a stage and blinded you with a spotlight aimed directly at you. Lost, you didn’t know what to say.

Then your gaze landed on that one person sitting alone in an armchair. Dressed in an identical white shirt and a black blazer draped over the arm of the chair.

You managed to smile at your Vincent.

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