#okay so FOR THE RECORD i played this weeks ago and adored it but didn’t have the time to make anything serious..

[twinkle-art]

the architect of your misery

[1980shorrorfilm]

i know it’s over

click!!!

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie doesn’t have the heart to tell joel you had broken up before the holidays; so you pretend you didn’t.

before you read...18+. angst. sad sex. afab reader. written with modern au in mind.

slow christmas songs play lowly from a record joel had put on, setting the mood of the crackling wood in the fireplace, and the twinkling tree in the corner.

the older man is laughing with ellie about something in the kitchen, and for a moment, this feels normal. like you belong here, and you’re happy to be here; something so wrong.

three weeks of heartache, shoved to the pits of your stomach, forced to smile and act as though you didn’t carry that overbearing pain. as if you and ellie were okay. she might be. you’re not sure, she doesn’t open up about her feelings to you anymore, especially not about your breakup.

it would be too hard, for her, for you, for your loved ones that view you two as inseparable. sure, the time will come when it can no longer remain a secret, but you’re in no rush to admit to something you still cannot even fathom happening in the first place. 

to tell the world that ellie isn’t yours anymore, that the small insignificant arguments had somehow piled up and led you down an unhappy path. something so odd to think about now, because you’ve only ever been happy with ellie. until now.

you see her from the corner of your eye, taking a seat on the couch beside you, but not next to you. not directly, not close enough to place her hand on your lap, to allow your head to rest on her shoulder. even as much as that hurts, it doesn’t compare to the emotional distance between you.

your eyes remain on the glowing fire before you, not daring to look at the woman who was already looking to you. searching for something to say, to make this less awkward. her mouth stays shut, allowing the quiet void to be filled with whatever sad christmas song was playing. 

you’re grateful the moment is soon interrupted by a knock at joel’s door, signaling his brother and his wife have arrived. you watch the flip switch in ellie, her cold demeanor around you suddenly dropping with a smile, hugging tommy and maria while you fiddle with your fingers.

you’re next to be engulfed in tight embraces, the couple had done an incredible job at making you feel welcomed in their family. they have since they realized ellie was pretty fucking serious about you, but that was three years ago. three years now down the drain.

you force a smile when you catch the negative thoughts spilling in your head, though it doesn’t reach your eyes, ellie noticing from a few feet away. 

she hated it.

joel interrupts with the announcement of dinner, bringing you a great sense of relief. just get it over with, pass out in the guest bedroom you two are occupying for the night, and leave in the morning. go back to life without her.

you sit in the chair next to ellie, feeling her hand cling to yours under the table. she squeezes gently, and you’re unsure if it was out of reassurance or habit. regardless, you sharply pull your hand away, her head snapping towards you, but you don’t look at her. 

you pick at your food, drowning ellie out with whatever conversation joel and tommy are sharing, even laughing at their stupid jokes. and it’s genuine, ellie spotting the twinkle in your eyes when your lips curled upwards. 

she was so fixated on you looking…happy, that she hadn’t realized she was the topic of discussion, joel telling a story about her rebellious teenage years. 

you forget the tension between you two at the moment, especially when ellie chimes in, correcting joel on some of the details, and eventually just taking over.

you direct your attention to her, the tint of red painting her freckled cheeks due to embarrassment, which slowly faded as she chuckled at her younger self. 

she was always so adorable when she got flustered, and you’re reminded how much she hated it when you pointed that out. or so, she pretended to. she never admitted that just made her even more flustered. 

her eyes meet yours now, and you’re pulled out of the moment, smile falling. an exchanged uncomfortable glare. loving gazes now replaced with something bitter and too much for you to bear. you redirect your eyes to your lap.

joel takes in the sight from the end of the table, sipping on his drink, before speaking. 

“so… you two gonna keep lookin’ like you’ve got a secret?” 

you both turn to him.

“hm?” “what?”

your voices blend with each other, the heat rising in your cheeks at the spotlight put on you two. was it that obvious? did he have to point it out? 

“a secret? who’s gotta secret?” tommy chimes in, your head now dipping as ellie lets out an exhausted sigh. “no one— no one,” ellie says, using that firm tone that everyone recognizes as her stop bothering me tone. you got pretty used to it in the days leading up to your breakup.

joel drops it, knowing if ellie wanted joel to know anything, she would’ve told him. tommy dares to pry, though, not recognizing the thick tension. 

“y’all hiding rings from us?” he chuckles, but no one laughs. if anything, it makes you want to cry. you would pick that scenario over this a million times over again. you wonder what you could’ve done differently that would’ve led you down that road with her, and down the aisle. 

how you could’ve treated her better, despite treating her like the most loved person in the entire world. because that’s what she is to you, even now. how you could’ve solved every issue that snuck into your relationship, despite trying to and ending up feeling like you had only made it so much worse. 

how you would be holding her fidgety hand under this table, just longing to feel the comfort of her warm touch, rather than dropping it and being repelled by her touch. how everything could’ve been good. perfect, even. instead, you’re stuck grieving a fleeting relationship in silence. 

ellie clears her throat, “maybe one day.”

ouch. your chair scrapes against the wooden floorboard, ellie looking up at you as you walk away, excusing yourself to the bathroom. you don’t register you’re crying until you’re locked safely in the small room, holding onto the sink, letting them fall down your face.

maybe it was the way she said it— like she almost believed it. or wished for it. or the idea that your ex-girlfriend was going to be married, and it wasn’t to you. that you’re here, for the last time. that you’re spending the most wonderful time of year with the love, and loss, of your life, for the last time. 

you had managed to wear faux smiles since the break up— it was inevitable for this breakdown to occur. 

after a moment of muffling your cries into your hands, there’s silence, you attempting to calm yourself and return to a state of false normalcy. then the gentle knock hits the bathroom door, joel’s gruff voice pulling you from your thoughts.

“you alright, kiddo?”

you dry your face, practicing a smile in the mirror, then swinging the door open. “yeah— yeah, sorry,” you tell him, “just don’t feel well.”

it’s not a complete lie, you truly feel like the earth is crumbling at your feet. you wouldn’t tell him why, exactly, but joel had two working eyes.

“you know…if there’s anything going on between you two…” he drifts off, not even sure where he was going with this. he wasn’t great with advice, he just tried to speak on what he knew. and what he knows is, you’re one of the best things to happen to ellie. 

“you two got lucky finding each other. that’s all,” he tells you, giving a sad smile like he is aware of the situation without having it explained to him. 

it crushes your heart even more, another nail hit in the coffin of you and ellie. another pile of dirt poured over you two, burying your relationship that you’re not ready to let go of. but holy fuck, is it nearly out of your grasp.

when he walks away, the tears begin to build again. you swiftly walk to the bedroom ellie and you were staying for the night, hearing the muffled voices from downstairs, hoping you weren’t the topic. 

you are. not in the sense that you dread, though, rather being spoken about highly from maria. ellie keeps her green eyes trained on the floor, listening to the woman elaborate on the words that tommy had said earlier. a ring. a proposal. a step forward for you two. 

not knowing there wasn’t a step forward, there was nothing anymore. 

“y/n…they uh, aren’t feeling too hot,” joel changes the topic, ellie picking up her lowly hung head. though she can assume the reasoning as to why, she still leaves the room, a need to check in on you, even if that’s not what you want. 

you hear the door open, but you’re laid comfortably on your side, not bothering to turn over and see her. 

“hey,” her voice is wary, nervous while approaching the bed. she sees the tear marks on your pretty face, the one nearly covered by the blanket pulled up to the tip of your nose. ellie kneels on the floor beside you, meeting you face to face. sad eyes to miserable eyes. 

“it’s too much, ellie,” you whisper, voice cracking near immediately. 

“i know.”

“why did we…” you stop yourself, the heat in your cheeks now burning you alive, thinking about it too much. something that’s said and done, something you two discussed to not talk about again, and yet. 

“it’s so hard,” you barely get out, now pulling the blanket over your head completely, a safe space to let your tears flow rather than in front of the only person that would ever comfort you. 

ellie still does, pulling the soft fabric back down, palm resting against your cheek kindly— wishing she could take the same pain she is experiencing, from you. 

she would endure it, and perhaps this would be easier. entering the new year no longer caring for her. putting yourself first for once rather than her. loving yourself more than her. it would all be so easy. 

her head falls, and her eyes water. your blurry vision clears when you take notice, suddenly putting your emotions on the back burner and wiping your eyes. 

“els,” you whisper, throwing the blanket off of you and sitting up. your legs swing over the edge of the bed, ellie taking it as an invitation to close whatever space was between you, sobbing in your lap. a rare sight, she hadn’t even done this the night you had split. she was monotone, numb in that moment. now, it’s crashing down on her at once. 

you stay like this until her crying stops, the house now quiet, tommy and maria having left. joel is assumingly in his bedroom, passed out as a christmas classic plays on his television. the house feels colder, or maybe that’s just the bedroom. 

when ellie adjusts herself, she looks up to you, an unspoken conversation being held between your damp eyes. 

ellie leans forward, doing the last thing she should do right now, and kisses you. softly. sadly. passionately. 

you scoot back on the bed, her lips not leaving yours while she crawls on top of you, neither of you thinking right now— not about what’s happening, anyway. 

all you feel is her, and you need her, in every sense, weeks of telling yourself that you don’t now unraveling. this isn’t about lust. even when her cool hand travels to the waistband of your pants, finding warmth inside of them, awaiting a reaction from you. to push her away, or change your mind, she waits for it. 

her lips part from yours, face inches from yours, studying you. you speak quietly, “please.”

she gulps.

once more, she leans in, lips moving slowly with yours, while her hand slips into your underwear. you gasp into her mouth when you feel her, busying your own hands beneath her dark shirt, resting them against her pale back. 

your nails dig into her the moment her middle finger enters you, but you only whimper when she adds her ring finger, letting you adjust to how she feels inside you— just right.

then she curls them, angling them on that spongey spot without fault, kissing you harder when a yelp attempts to escape from your lips, being reunited with a feeling you had longed for. 

the feeling of ellie taking care of you. wanting to make you feel more than okay. not locked in the bathroom crying after an argument, or isolated in your shared bed because she’d rather sleep on your worn-out thrifted couch. 

ellie loving you. 

the wind howls against the windows in the bedroom, and you hope the eerie noise blocks your crying out. it doesn’t, and ellie suddenly stops. 

“fuck,” she whispers to herself, both guilt and shame creeping into her veins. she took this too far, she thinks. ellie attempts to pull away, but your hand grips her arm, preventing her from doing so.

“i’m okay— ellie, please,” you tell her, afraid to stop, and to lose this. you need this. you beg again, “please, baby.”

and ellie repeats herself again, “fuck.”

to your request, she keeps going, fucking you while you cling to her. ellie is going fast, relentless, and the noises between your thighs are indecent. your grasp gets tighter the closer she brings you to that light at the end of the tunnel, but you can’t seem to actually reach it. 

you’re drifting, even when she picks up her pace, pressing against the sweet spots that would usually have you seeing stars.

you know ellie is rushing this. she’s not making love to you, she’s fucking you crudely, but right now your mind is desperately trying to blur those lines.

your eyes remain shut when ellie’s face parts from yours, attempting to chase that high running away from you. 

“hey,” ellie speaks, “look at me, y/n.”

you obey, brows furrowed with pleasure and sadness. you probably look a mess; she doesn’t think so. “beautiful,” she says, that rasp in her voice that you’re utterly obsessed with.

“haven’t said it enough lately…but you are…so fucking beautiful,” ellie continues, not slowing down the rhythm at which she moved in and out of you. “wish you could see yourself…fuck…”

you know what she’s doing, but it’s absolutely working.

she feels you tighten around her, heart racing and jaw-dropping with a moan threatening to spill from your soft lips. she reacts quickly, palm on your mouth to muffle the noise, these walls too thin for the noises she made you make.

“gonna be quiet for me?” ellie asks, the question more so teasing than sincere. still, you nod lazily against the mattress. she questions you again, “gonna cum for me?”

you don’t answer her this time— your body does that for you, shuddering beneath her and crying out into her hand. ellie doesn’t drag it out, she removes her fingers, sucking them while you collect yourself, calming your shaky breath.

it’s a waiting game for who speaks first, ellie shifting and sitting at the edge of the bed, gripping the blanket beneath her. she’s trying to wrap her head around…all of this…around you. 

meanwhile, you force your tired body to move, crawling behind her and wrapping your arms around her torso, head resting on her shoulder. a position you could stay in forever if life was kind enough and allowed you to. 

“we can tell him in the morning.”

her words bring you out of the haze you’re in, like a bucket of ice-cold water thrown in your fucking face. that’s what ellie did best. she gave you everything you had wanted, just to take it away. 

“okay,” you respond, letting go of her completely— in the physical way.

[violettwrites]

season of the witch 🦇 eddie munson

author’s note: LOOSELY based on a tiktok headcanon thing i saw of eddie AGES ago where he met an actual witch and got so scared he stopped playing d&d for a month. but thought she was super hot.

also this is based before any of the upside down stuff in s4 so eddie is simply oblivious.

this is my first piece of work ever pls bear with me 😭 but if you like it, i’d love it if you supported me by liking, commenting, and/or reblogging !! thank you 🫶🏻

warnings: nothing really ?? just the tiniest bit of spiritualism and that stuff idk

word count: 995

before today, eddie had never really noticed you at school before. you tried your hardest to blend in, not wanting to be noticed by people anyway. it wasn’t really your thing— talking to people. but when you had passed by him in the cafeteria one day during lunch, the smell of your perfume hit him like a truck and he couldn’t help but stare.

he was mad that he hadn’t noticed you before, because how dare he not notice someone as breathtakingly beautiful as you? you had such a mysterious aura about yourself that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. it was captivating.

“who’s that?” he asked his friends who were sitting at the table with him, eyes still staring you down as you sat alone in the cafeteria, your nose stuck into a stephen king book — it looked like… misery? he couldn’t exactly tell from all the way over here.

“oh, that’s (y/n).” gareth spoke up, his head turning to look at you before he looked back at eddie. “rumor has it that she’s a witch. apparently she cast a spell on mr. john’s once because he failed her in chemistry and that’s how he ended up with that burn down the left side of his face.”

eddie looked at gareth with a confused look on his face, brows furrowed together slightly. “i thought that was just a science experiment gone wrong?” he looked back over at you, swallowing the lump in his throat. you definitely looked like you could be a witch, but that was stupid. witches weren’t real… right?

“yeah that’s what the school wants us to think.” gareth shook his head with a smirk, not exactly believing that eddie was starting to actually think you were a witch. “why? wanna talk to her do ya?” he teased, making eddie look back at him with almost fearful eyes, shaking his head side to side rather quickly.

as the bell rang, eddie watched you pack your things into your bag— that’s when he noticed the pentagram around your neck, and the lump in his throat grew thicker. okay, maybe you were a witch.

— — —

throughout the week, you had occupied eddie’s mind. when he was playing d&d with his friends, he was distracted by his mind racing with thoughts about you, wondering if what gareth said was true. it’s not like he didn’t believe in the supernatural, because he definitely believed in vampires and all that, but he didn’t expect them to be walking with him.

so when he found himself at the record store on saturday, perusing the heavy metal albums for his latest addition to his collection, he could smell that all to familiar perfume that he had only smelt on you. he looked up, seeing you standing on the other side of the aisle facing him, fingers flicking through records before pulling one out to look at it.

he wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at you, but your voice had pulled him from his thoughts. “hi?” you spoke, your voice soft yet full of confusion. his mouth was slightly agape as he looked at you, and you had to admit. you found him quite adorable.

“h-hello.” he stuttered out, eyes looking at your as his fingers held the latest dio album.

“the last in line. good album.” you nodded, offering him a small smile. eddie swore his heart was about to burst now. you had good music taste. he nodded his head quite quickly, not really having the words to speak to you properly. he still couldn’t shake the fact that you were a witch. “did you cast a spell on mr. john’s? is that why his face is all burnt up?” he blurted out, eyes going a little wide and cheeks turning pink.

you furrowed your brows slightly in confusion, shaking your head slowly. “i’m… not following you?” you tilted your head a little, your own fingers still holding the latest album from echo and the bunnymen.

“gareth said you were a witch— i mean, you have that uh— that pentagram on your necklace.” he pointed out, and you almost let out a HA! but you had to stop yourself. “it’s a pentacle, bit of a different thing.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “it’s used for protection and to banish unwanted spirits.” you went back to looking through the albums, having set the one you were previously holding aside.

eddie stood there, mouth still agape. “so you are a witch?” he asked, and you almost rolled your eyes as you stopped browsing the albums again. the good thing that came from being unnoticed was you didn’t have to deal with situations like this. “yes, and no. it’s not like i have magic flowing through my fingers or anything dumb like that. it’s more of a spirituality thing. like a religion, but it’s not.”

still staring at you, eddie nodded his head a little before going back to looking through the albums, his mind slightly at ease knowing you weren’t a supernatural being. it was quiet between the two of you for the next ten minutes, but when you had gathered the albums you were ready to buy, starting to head towards the register, eddie called out to you.

“can i get your number?” he asked, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. you raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on your lips as you made your way over to him. you dug through your bag, pulling out a sharpie before grabbing his arm to write your landline on his forearm. “call me after 8. that’s when i finish my sacrificial work.” you winked at him teasingly, leaving him and heading over to the register.

he stood there baffled as you left, arm still held in the position it was when you had been writing on his arm. he watched you leave the store, his heart racing as he wondered if he’d be your next victim.

[icy-book]

For the writing requests, I have a hc that Terry knew Veronica for a really long time before she even had Scary, and Terry used to babysit when Scary was a baby because Veronica was working and didn’t trust whoever Scary’s dad was to watch her. Could you write something about like Terry meeting tiny Scary for the first time? I feel like he’d be pretty anxious but he’d also immediately love Scary.

(also, fun fact, this is one of my wips that I am also procrastinating on 🙃)

Oooooooooooo I like this headcanon

*Knock knock knock*

Muffled shuffling inside, the sound of the key in the lock, and then-

"Terry!" The door swung upon to reveal Veronica's beautiful, smiling face. "Thank you so much for agreeing to look after her."

He smiled back. "It's no problem, really."

The 'her' in question was propped up on Veronica's hip, chewing the corner of her blanket and staring blankly at him. If you asked him, she was far too young to be away from her mother for so long, but Veronica couldn't afford to stay away from work so long, and she was only allowed 12 weeks anyway.

Veronica pick her arm up and waved it at him. "Say hi, Theresa! You remember Terry, don't you?" Theresa continued to stare blankly at him. Ah, babies. Far too aware of everything to react to any of it.

"Hi Theresa! I'll be looking after you today, okay?"

"Here," Veronica shifted her weight, holding the small, fragile child out to him. "Wanna hold her?"

"Of course!" Elbow to support the head, just like Sparrow had taught him a few years ago with Hero. Theresa looked up at him, bewildered.

She was adorable.

"Come in, come in." Veronica ushered him into the house. "I've made a list of nap times, feeding times, and so on. There's premixed formula in the fridge and instructions on how to make more. Her toys and play pen are in the living room."

She turned and smiled at him. Part of him melted a little.

Her voice was quieter when she spoke again. "Really, thank you so much for doing this. I wouldn't ask but I don't exactly trust Damian to look after a kid on his own." She laughed hollowly. "I actually don't know where he is."

"Vee..."

"I know, I know." She looked far too sad. "I just- I've gotta get to work. We can talk about this later." He hoped he meant that genuinely, and not in the Wilson way.

"For the record," he smiled softly at her. "I've gotten very good at divorce paperwork in the past few months. Seriously, Vee, you can call me for anything."

"Thanks, Terry." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're the best."

(He was not going to get flustered, he was not going to get flustered, she's married, do not get flustered)

"I best get going. Thanks again." She turned to Theresa. "Bye, baby! I'll be home soon, okay? So you just be good for Terry and try not to throw up on his clothes."

"Don't worry, me and little Theresa will be just fine. Now go to work!"

"Okay, okay! Bye!" And with a laugh, she shut the door behind her.

"Guess it's just you and me, huh Terri?" She gurgled at him. "Yeah, we'll be just fine. Wanna have some tummy time in the play pen?"

She started wiggling, so he took that as a yes, and set her down on the mat.

Terri was interesting, because she was nothing like the other babies he saw. Admittedly, Taylor was a few months older than her, Linc a whole year older, and Hero was already in kindergarten. But Normal was already reaching for people when he wanted to be held by them, and was very vocal when he wanted something. Taylor could chat his ear off, despite not forming a single word (though he suspected it helped that Nicky would hold full conversations with the kid), and Linc clung to his dads like a lifeline. Being found on the Titanic of all places had probably made him a bit of an anxious kid.

But Terri seemed largely silent and ambivalent, although she definitely preferred her mom over everyone else. And her little gurgles were incredibly cute.

He was looking forward to spending time with her.

[bukitanukiart]

Solubivnus: a day of chaos

Today has been potentially the most eventful day of my life, so I'm going to hype it up as such.

To preface the story (and title), I live with 5 roommates, and we have a calendar in our kitchen for communal events, and written on today (May 25th) was the phrase "solubivnus atfakoji".

This has been here since the beginning of the month, and frankly, none of us know who wrote it, or what it's supposed to mean/actually say, so for the whole month, we've been hyping up today as a joke, even deciding to have a big dinner as "celebration" for solubivnus.

But starting about a week ago, we've been having issues in our house, mainly the fact that our water heater wasn't working, and any attempts to contact our landlord failed, so today we took our anxious asses over to their residence services to actually help us. Thankfully, they listened to our begging and sent over our saviour: Kyle. Kyle has saved us many times before, we adore this man, I would die for Kyle.  So over Kyle comes in record time and takes a look at the heater and was like “yeah, that’s weird” and calls over a plumber to take a closer look, so off Kyle goes, and about 20ish minutes later, the plumbers come by and just say “oh yeah, Your gas got shut off, call your gas company.” and the 5 of us that were home look at each other because, why is our gas off? we've payed the bill on time since we’ve moved in?  and then we remembered something very important.  remember how our hot water went out about a week ago? yeah, the day before, we had seen a man in our backyard with a jacket that read “Meter reader”. we didn't see him do anything, just the tail end of him being in our yard and going on his merry way. we thought it was weird as fuck, but he didn't do anything so we just ignored it.  except he did do something...

he turned off our gas and we didn't even notice.  so I call the stupid gas company, and say “yo, why is our gas off?” and the poor guy on the other side of the line is like “off? its not, your file says your fine, I can send someone over to check it out though. 45 Road st right?” and I pause. “no” I say “I live at 54 Road st” and there was another pause. “your file says 45″. I feel a sense of dread as I look at my account details. there it was. 45 Road st. “Oh god. have I been paying someone else’s gas bill?” and my man on the other side lets out a small “I think so...” so for almost a year, our dumb asses have been footing a random strangers bill. and you might be thinking, Buki, how the fuck did you not notice this? how come they didn't shut it off 3 months in? well my friend, I live in the north, where its illegal to shut off gas during the cold months as it supplies heating, and wouldn't you know it? our lease started 2 months before the cold months. and so I wait on hold, trying to get this all figured out and eventually get told “we can transfer all your payments to a new account for your correct address and hook you back up to gas, it’ll be done in... around 20 days.” and I'm like “what the fuck, I cannot go without hot water for another 20 days, is there anything you can do?” and then I get put on hold again. 

when I finally hear from this guy again, I'm told “okay yeah, we can hook you back up sometime between 6 - 8 pm tonight, you'll still have to wait for someone to call you in 20 days for the account changes though” and tbh, that's cool man, thats fine, I just cant go a total of a whole month without hot water.  and once I hang up the waiting game is played again. by the time we hear from this guy, we we’re ready to sit down for our solubivnus dinner.  it was 5 min to 8 when we hear a knock, and we think “oh god, its finally over” as this guy hooks our gas back up and sets up our water heater and leaves.  we have a nice dinner, hanging out until 10pm It’s finally over.

except it’s not. we go downstairs and what do we see? our water heater spewing water all over our basement floor. and we panic naturally. so here we are, filling buckets with the coming onslaught of water as I panic call the emergency line for our rental company, and let me tell you that was the longest phone call of my life. finally they say they’ll send someone over, I say “great, please hurry” and not even 10 minutes later our saviour returns. Kyle.  my man Kyle comes to the rescue and turns the water off, looking at the mess to try and figure out what's wrong before calling us another plumber, these ones coming in 45 min. and when they come, what are we told? “yeah, we’ll have to replace the whole thing tomorrow.”  and that's where we are now. 

what an eventful solubivnus.

[waynes-multiverse]

Ooof, finally back! 😮‍💨 I've been thinking about this series way too much in the last couple of weeks. I'm so excited to dive back in 😍

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too? You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

I'm so in love with their little bonding sessions. Being stuck inside a cabin and playing games? I want that 😍

And lol it's gotta be so awkward for true mates when they're still strangers. I absolutely adored her thought process throughout 😆

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Yes please 🫠🫠🫠

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards. “That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?” “My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

Love how Dean doesn't realize he's oversharing and that his whole childhood might not have been normal 😂

And oh God, all those journal entries 😭😭😭 I know they're from the OG journal, but it just rips my heart right out again rereading it 😢 Those portray John's despair and heartbreak way better than the show did...

In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

Ooooh, let's think about it, shall we? 😏 Her dad might have totally been snatched by something supernatural. Considering their location and how it happened in her memories, it might have been a Wendigo?? 🤔

WENDIGO Cree: Evil that devours. Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests. Perfect hunter.

YEEEESSSSSS

Dude! Goosebumps! Wendigos scare the shit outta me 🙈 It's still why The Descent is the scariest movie for me. I die from a heart attack every time 😂 🫣

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking

No, no, no, stop it! That description made me shudder 😶😶

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?” You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house.

No! Alex!!!! YOU KNOW THIS IS WHY I HATE SNOOPING

Girl, you're killing me here... 😆😆

“I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

Love her explanation for reading his stuff. Reminds me of Smoke Eater 😄

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.”

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Oh no... Please tell me you didn't bring the Wenidgo back 😳

Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

I'm guessing this one ain't gonna be cute tho 😆

It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray.

Do not attack a Grizzly with bear spray! Just lie down, girl, and stop moving lol

Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar.

She never heard of the three bears rule, has she? 😅 Well, hopefully Dean feels her distress and comes running soon 🙏

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

N'aw, I know it was necessary but poor bear – wrong place, wrong time for the fella 🥺💔

But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

My heart is full 😭❤️❤️❤️ (Also, I doubt he can ever stand to let her go her own way after this lmao)

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow.

Holy... That came out of the blue and completely whipped me across the face! 🫠🔥

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you.

Huh. Never eaten bear before... Never even thought about it before lol Also seems like something the Shaws would've done 😂

Omg I love that ending! Dean's finally coming around, and she's putting the puzzle pieces about her dad together. I wonder what Dean will do when he hears the full story? Would he go hunt the thing? Is it even still out there??? Questions upon questions... 🤔

So excited for the next part!! I'm loving this story and everything you've put in it, and the dynamic between them is amazing. So well done, friend 😍🩵🩵

Against the Wind - Part 2

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Thank you guys so much for all the amazing feedback on Part 1! Now, most of your theories and questions will be answered...

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, and peril, the other kind of "hunting."

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

“I’ll raise you 25,” you say, tossing five chocolate covered pretzels into the middle pile. It’s a risky bet, considering how much you lost in the last hand. Dean regards you with an amused, if critical eye while he holds his cards.

“Ooh, you’re bluffing,” he says. You pop your brows at him, a subtle smile tugging at your lips.

“You want to test that theory? Put your money where your mouth is,” you challenge.

He tilts his head at you with a raise of his own brows.

“Cheeky omega,” he mutters. His attention returns to his cards as he deliberates on his next move.

You attempt to be nonchalant as you glance down at your cards again. It’s a shitty hand, but he doesn’t need to know that. The alpha’s won the last two hands of Texas Hold ‘Em, but you did win the first one. Though you suspect he let you win.

You want to at least even the score before he resumes his work out in the shed. He spends most of his time there during the day, or making sure the firewood is stocked. It seems like he takes any excuse not to spend too much time in your presence.

More than anything, you want to ask him if he feels what you feel—the same tug in the pit of your stomach every time he’s nearby. You just haven’t found a way to broach that with him.

Hey, I know we just met like two minutes ago, but I think we’re supposed to be together. Do you feel it too?

You nearly roll your eyes at yourself. Yeah, that’ll go over well.

So you have to be content with mornings like this and in the evenings, where he lets you put on one of his records, and you two share dinner together, maybe another round of cards. Or you’ll read a book while lounging on the chaise, and he lays out on the couch, listening to his music with his eyes closed. You like watching him like that, with a relaxed, damn near peaceful set to his face.

Too often he holds that harder, stoic expression, or that divot between his brows that makes you want to soothe two of your fingers there; or better yet, lean in and press your lips—

“It’s your move,” Dean reminds you. He’s finally played his hand, but you were too distracted to hear what he said.

“What’d you do?” you ask, surveying the piles of cards.

“Call,” he repeats, popping a few pretzels into his mouth. He washes it down with beer and more barbeque chips. Those are worth $10 in this little fantasy betting. He points a finger towards you with the same hand that holds his beer, teasing, “You got all the lights on in there? Or am I boring you?”

You glance up at him, fighting a smile. “All right, keep your pants on. Let me see…”

As the dealer, he’s already turned over the River: the last card in the hand. It’s a 10 of Clubs, which means your One Pair is actually a Two Pair. It’s still not a great hand, but it’s decent enough to maybe let you get the best of your opponent.

After you go “all in,” Dean’s lips twitch at a smile, and he humors you, going all in as well. You’re on tenterhooks when he finally reveals his hand.

“Ooh, it ain’t a cheesy ‘90s sitcom, but it’s still…a Full House,” he brags as he lays out each card in a smooth line of overlapping cards, the mix of glossy red diamonds and black spades showing the truth. He won again.

You huff in defeat, your shoulders sinking in your seat at the kitchen table. You turn over your measly hand. Sweeping the winnings toward himself (a mound of chocolate covered pretzels, a stack of barbecue chips, and a handful of Oreos), Dean chuckles and tosses you a wink.

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve been hustlin’ poker for a long time. Hell, I’ve been playing this game before I even knew my times tables,” he says as he collects the cards.

“That young?” you reply. “Who taught you?”

“My dad,” he says. “Oh, believe me, I used to get my ass kicked many a’ time, but by the time I turned sixteen, I was hustlin’ grown ass men in skeevy bars out of their daily paycheck.”

“You were hanging out in bars at sixteen?” you ask incredulously. There, Dean seems to realize he’s said too much. He becomes more guarded as he puts away the deck and cleans the crumbs off the table.

“My dad was always working. You could say I didn’t really have a curfew,” he says.

“A latchkey kid, huh?” you reply, hiding the way you’re trying so hard to glean any more hints of truth between his words.

“Heh, yeah.” He gets up from the table and tosses the breakfast dishes in the sink, then travels to the front door to don his jacket and boots.

“All right, I’ll be out back,” he says.

Out back, code for out in the shed. You nod, and in a flash, he’s shutting the door behind him.

You’ve learned another small tidbit about him, one that feels more important than it seems on the surface. And yet, it only elicits more questions you doubt he’ll be willing to answer so easily. He’s more than tight-lipped about his past, only giving vague outlines and general pictures.

Even his stories—like being raised up in a family of traveling mechanics, putting Nair in Sam’s shampoo when he was a kid, or the guy’s serious fear of clowns—feel like they’re missing some key details.

You decide to take up your crutches and head for your room. There you unearth the journal from its hiding place under your pillow. This time, you turn to the very beginning. Before all the jargon about mythology (and an odd footnote about a “Turducken Slammer”), there are actual journal entries. The first one dates back to November 6, 1983. The first line already captures your attention.

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed… When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

He writes about their house burning with all their memories inside, along with Mary. Somehow, he saw her pinned bloody to the ceiling.

Along with these pages is a clipping from a news story:

House Fire Kills Mother of Two

Lawrence, Kansas.

You’re spellbound by it all. You keep reading.

November 13, 1983

…Most of our clothes and photos are ruined, even our safe—the safe with Mary’s old diaries, the boys’ savings bonds, what little jewelry we had…all gone. How could my house, my whole life, go up like that, so fast, so hot? How could my wife just burn up and disappear?

The police don’t believe his story, about how she died before the fire, about what he saw. So he tries to convince himself that what he saw wasn’t real. Still, he can’t find rest, and he worries about his sons’ safety.

December 4, 1983

I haven’t let them out of my sight since the fire. Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side—or from his brother.

Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he’s trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don’t know how to stop it, and part of me doesn’t want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won’t remember her at all.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a droplet lands on the page. You quickly wipe it away before it becomes a stain, and you dry it all the way with your breath before you move on to the next page, sniffling. Your heart hurts, even as your guilt grows. You know now that you’re really, truly invading Dean’s privacy by reading his father’s words. You just can’t stop yourself from turning the next page.

John becomes convinced that someone, or something, started the fire that destroyed his life and took his wife away from him and his sons. He leaves his job and the remnants of that world behind, to venture deeper into the darker one. But in that darkness, he finds truth.

He visits a psychic, Missouri, who leads him back to his house and senses the echoes of an evil presence—something that shakes her to the core, and John too: the creature that killed his wife.

December 20

…She told me that it was the most powerful, awful thing she’s ever come across.

On January 1, 1984, John makes a New Year’s resolution. He determines to find the answers himself.

A shiver runs down your spine. In John’s words, your heart breaks for Dean, but you also see yourself. You try not to think about why.

You keep flipping through the rest of the journal past January. There are translations of a Latin exorcism, and like you read before, strange drawing of evil looking creatures—as well as what they are, scraps of their history, and how to kill them.

Silver bullet to the heart, can’t withstand iron, salt and burn.

You pause on a certain page, more filled with lore than the rest, and a primitive drawing in the center.

WENDIGO

Cree: Evil that devours.

Wood spirit. Eats live flesh. Lives in forests.

Perfect hunter.

Your breath stills in your lungs as a cold sweat forms across your skin. The more you read, the faster your heart beats.

The crunch of dead leaves. Your father shouting at you to run, and keep running.

The coarse shout of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short. You turn around with your rifle in hand, poised to shoot blindly.

Your stomach churns as bile rises into your throat. You feel sick, and wrong, and you suddenly have the urge to throw the journal against the wall.

“Omega?” calls Dean’s sharp voice. “You okay?”

You jolt badly at the sudden noise. You didn’t hear him reenter the house. He likely caught the scent of your distress. He pushes the door of your room open to find you, but he stops short in the doorway. His surprise quickly morphs into a frown when he notices what you’re holding in your lap.

You gasp, freezing where you sit, but there’s no point in trying to cover up what you’ve done. With an angry purse of his lips, he reaches over and takes the journal from your hands.

“What the hell are you doing with this?” he demands.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I just—” You swallow past the lump in your throat. “I was just curious. I wanted to know more about you. I thought it was…a normal journal.”

“So this is how you go about it, huh? Got everything you wanted, Columbo?” he says, his sarcasm cutting into you. He flips through the journal to make sure all the pages are intact before he tucks the journal under his arm. “Seriously, going into somebody’s stuff? Who the hell raised you?”

At that, you begin to bristle.

“My dad,” you snap back. Though remembering the passages you’ve lived with for the past few hours, you soften with a painful twinge of sympathy in your heart. 

“And it looks like yours raised you to be some kind of…well, what are you, a ghostbuster or something?” you ask.

His jaw locks. “Or something.” 

With an exasperated sigh at his hedging, you swing your legs around the edge of the bed and haul yourself up with your crutches so you can at least match his stance (more or less).

“Dean, please, just talk to me,” you implore, gesturing at the journal tucked under his arm. “The things I read—”

“Are none of your goddamn business!” he growls, making the omega inside you cringe. The alpha’s voice is deep and sharp, and even though he isn’t crowding you, his height and broadness are still intimidating.

“The sooner you heal up, the sooner I can ship you back to where you belong,” he says. “Back to your life, so you can stop sticking your nose into mine.” 

Your mouth actually falls open in shock. His vehement words feel almost as powerful as a physical blow, if to your soul. They make your arms tremble while holding yourself upright on your crutches. Hot tears well up in your eyes, though you try to blink them away. After a moment, you’re able to collect yourself enough to speak.

“I’m sorry for going through your stuff,” you say, in a quiet voice.

You hobble awkwardly past him out of the room. You don’t stop until you reach the front door, where your snow boots are. You manage to get them on by yourself so you can go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention some much needed distance from the alpha’s burning presence. You can still feel him trailing behind you. You hear his heavy boots.

“Where the hell are you going?” he grits out.

You hobble faster.

Dean watches you go out the door without a word in irritation, even though it triggers an alarm deep in his gut every time you leave the safety of the cabin. 

The snow depth has lightened somewhat since the storm, but it’s still not easy to navigate on your crutches. You get some distance from the cabin, mindful not to go too far. You know you’re limited, and you didn’t even take a gun with you.

Finding a solid tree to lean on, you rest there and try in vain to stifle your tears. You know you were wrong for snooping, and he had a right to be mad, but did he really have to be such a freakin’ bear? 

Fucking alphas. I swear.

You thought you were starting to connect with him, but clearly, Dean wants nothing to do with you. He wants you out of his life. 

Does he not feel the same pull you feel to him? Does he really not realize…that he’s meant to be your mate?

You take in a shaky breath through your nose. If he does, apparently he doesn’t care.

Just then, you hear the crunch of snow nearby. Twigs snapping.

Your body stiffens with a terrible memory—of that day in the woods. Your breath comes out in short puffs on the cold air, your eyes wide as you listen closely.

Hearing nothing, you allow yourself to breathe a little easier. You venture a few paces forward and to the right, but you stop shy of how it slopes downward. Some unnamed feeling tells you to look over the edge.

You lean over and cast your gaze down the slope, but all you see is snow and trees down below. With a shaky breath, you lean back and look out to the north again. Plodding along the trail, heading towards you, is a bear.

Oh shit…

You remember Dean mentioning something about a bear passing by his cabin a couple of days before the storm. Looks like he’s back to make his rounds.

His fur is dark; from this distance, you can’t tell if it’s a black bear or a grizzly. It doesn’t make much difference when all you have on your person is a can of bear spray. His gait is massive, unhurried, but he lets out a braying sound when your gaze meets his, as if acknowledging you. He stops there for a moment, assessing. Your body locks up with fear.

The bear groans again, this time sharper. You finally snap out of your reverie and force your body to move slowly backward with your crutches spearing into the snow. The cabin isn’t that far, maybe thirty or forty yards at most. Still, the bear can probably beat you.

Instead of trying to run, you stand your ground and shout at the bear, hoping he’ll back off. Your voice dies in your throat when he rears up on his hind legs, with a loud roar. Trembling, you miss a step and get knocked back into the snow on your ass, your crunches falling out at your sides. You scramble inside your jacket for anything that might help you. 

Bear spray!

You hurry to get the cap off with shaking hands, but before you can even aim, the creature’s heave paws thudding into the ground in front of you—a gunshot rings out and hits the animal in the chest. 

The bear falters, then roars in pain and anger.

Two more shots finally bring it down to an even heavier thud, not far from your feet.

In this moment, these are the things you don’t know about Dean Winchester:

For one, the scent of an omega in distress always calls to an alpha’s protective instincts. But the scent of your abject fear feels like someone tried to rip his lungs out through his stomach.

Second, when he sees you there, your wide, shiny eyes filled with the remnants of panic, yet relief at the sight of him, it takes everything within him not to drop to his knees, grab you by the hair, sink his teeth into your neck and claim you, right there in the snow. Maybe then you’d start listening to him and stop taking your life into your hands.

Instead, his lips purse as he wracks his rifle and slings the strap of it over his shoulder. He stalks toward you and scoops you up, crutches and all. He brings you back to the cabin without a word.

His jaw is once again locked with silence and strain; he doesn’t trust himself to speak until he’s brought you inside and carried you over to the chaise. He sits beside you there and takes an inventory of you with his eyes.

“You okay?” he asks at last.

You manage to meet his gaze and give a little nod.

“Okay. Don’t move,” he says shortly. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, where he grabs a foldable set of knives and a cooler from under the sink.

You watch him in silence, and you realize he’s going back to gut the bear. You didn’t know that he actually hunted out here…well, hunted to eat. He continues to gather items in silence. It gets to a point where you can’t stand it, or his curtness, any longer.

“Thank you,” you say, halting his steps. Dean glances at you over his shoulder, then continues strapping up his supplies. He huffs in response.

“We’re gonna be eatin’ good for a while,” he says without looking at you. 

His attitude both hurts you and aggravates you, so much that you refuse to take it anymore. 

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have butted into your life,” you say. Frustrated tears well up in your eyes. Expelling a sharp sigh, you amend yourself. “I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’m sorry about what you went through, and I’m…I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry for today. I’ll just…stay out of your way, and I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

Dean finally turns your way, but your lips tremble as you turn your face away from him and shut your eyes tightly against the salty burn of tears. Deep inside, his heart withers in his chest. He sighs and drops his supplies on the couch. He walks over with those heavy boots, and he sits on the edge of the chaise beside you. He hesitates for a moment, but eventually, he rests a warm, calloused hand on your arm and earns your tearful gaze. 

“I’m sorry. I, uh…shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he says. 

You sniff, quickly wiping away your embarrassing tears as they come. Your cheeks are hot with it.

“What is it you wanna know? About me,” he asks, surprising you that much more.

 Your mouth parts, but nothing comes out. It takes you some time to think, but the first thing that comes to your mind is…

“Everything in that journal,” you say, licking your dry lips. “Is it real?”

Dean holds your gaze steadily. You know the truth without him having to say it, but he does.

“I was a hunter,” he says. “Those things you read about, I found ‘em. Killed ‘em. It was my job.”

“And now?” you ask, once that large bit of information has time to set into your brain.

His lips tug at a half smile. “Consider me…mostly retired.”

You exhale softly, and you nod. It earns a furrowed look from Dean.

“You don’t seem all that freaked out by this,” he says, with a more scrutinizing gaze on you.

“Should I be?” you say, with an unsteady laugh.

He raises his brows. “In my experience, yeah.”

You chew on the inside of your lip. You don’t know if you should even put into words what you’ve been holding onto for months. Like John, no one believed you. Even your own mother had started to look at you like you needed a shrink.

“Omega?” Dean presses. His green eyes are perceptive as they take in the conflicted look on your face. “There something you wanna tell me?”

You deliberate for a moment longer. Then, you release a sigh and glance down at your hands clenching in your lap.

“A few months ago, I lost my dad,” you begin.

Dean nods. “Yeah, you said—”

“I lost him in these woods,” you say.

That quiets the alpha.

You shake your head, and you find your words as the memories that have been haunting your nights return to you.

“Like I said, we used to go hiking here every year…”

AN: Just so you know, all of the journal entries appear in the official "John's Journal" SPN merch. 😉

Next Time:

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name louder, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 3

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[latenightsimping]

You Send Me (drabble)

Heard that @mantorokk-writes needed a bit of a pick-me-up, remembered this was in my folder, so finished it for them. Song is You Send Me by Sam Cooke. Enjoy! <3 

content: slow dancing, pure fluff, just being cute n shit

You couldn’t stop smiling, your cheeks hurting from exertion as your arms tightened where they were looped around Eddie’s neck. When you had asked if he had anything more romantic, you expected him to find something from the metal genre that had some semblance of love in the lyrics. You hadn’t expected him to rifle through the small box of records that you assumed were Wayne’s collection, making small noises of consideration until he found the right one. You couldn’t quite recognise the song from the initial few notes, but it was a slow temple, perfect to sway to. He had asked you to dance with a low bow and extension of his hand, like you were a princess being courted in one of his fantasy books. You had accepted with a giggle, enjoying the feeling of his large hands nestled at your waist as he gently swayed you.

Everything fell away, creating a small bubble of serenity and love. You were no longer in the slightly cluttered living room that you’d come to call home. With your eyes closed, head resting on his chest as you listened to his steady heartbeat and the vibrations of his voice softly crooning along to the words, you were sure that this was heaven. You hoped heaven would be like this. Eddie pressing soft kisses to the top of your head, ringed hand smoothing up and down your spine. He had a knack for making you feel as loved as you ever had been before, and perhaps he didn’t realise that his small actions were acts of declaration. He thought he was just being kind, being a good boyfriend; giving you his jacket if you looked even slightly cold, making sure he had your favourite snacks stocked in the kitchen, remembering the tiniest detail of something you told him ages ago. He listened when you rambled on about subjects that meant a lot to you, and the day didn’t start or end without a kiss and his little ‘I love you’.

Thanks to the cruel students of Hawkins High, you didn’t want to go to prom. You’d spend it with the love of your life, getting high and watching horror movies. Your own little party, and ten times more fun than listening to music you knew he’d hate and having to put up with dirty looks. And now, you were having your own slow dance a few weeks later, ‘You Send Me’ by Sam Cooke being the perfect background song. One that you just know would be yet another song that’ll make it’s way onto the next ‘our song’ mix tape; God knows the last one he’d given you was at risk of crapping out with the amount you played it.

He must have seen a look cross your face, a small smile twitching at the upper corners of his lips as he paused through another verse to look down at you properly. “Doin’ okay, angel?”

You nodded, head still rested over his heart as you idly played with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Just enjoying this,” you mumbled. “Never want this to end.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling his chest underneath your ear as he stroked languid circles on the small of your back. “Doesn’t have to end, if you don’t want it to.” His hand captured your chin, tilting it up so you could see his lovesick grin. “I’m sure we can find some more sappy love songs in Wayne’s stash.”

You giggled, leaning up to capture his lips with your own. A slow, passionate kiss, hoping to convey just how much love you had for him with it. And by the way he was kissing you back, he both understood and wanted to reciprocate.

You’d dance to anything he wanted to, if it meant holding you like this. Kissing you like this. Loving you like this. The dance may end, and the music may grow quiet. But you new deep down, that the adoration you both shared would never go away. Not ever.  

[finelinevogue]

Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?

i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;

You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.

Hot. Sticky. But chilled.

You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.

You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .

You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.

It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.

You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.

It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.

Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.

The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.

"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.

"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.

"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.

"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.

"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.

"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.

"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.

"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.

Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.

"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.

"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.

"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.

••••

You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.

Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?

Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.

You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.

"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.

"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.

"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.

He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.

Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.

"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.

"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.

"Why?"

"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.

After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.

"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.

"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.

"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.

“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.

Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.

"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.

"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.

You hated how he was right.

It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.

"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.

•••••

It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.

All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.

The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.

You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.

"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.

"If I do die—"

"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.

"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.

"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"

"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.

"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."

You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.

Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.

“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.

“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.

The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.

"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.

"Unfortunate for you, I guess."

"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.

"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.

"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.

Happily.

[duuhrayliegh]

europe - request

pairing: sebastian stan x singer!reader (seb!pov)

summary: singer!reader writes another song, this one is about seb

warnings: suggestive content (*wink wonk*), language, the works ya know

a/n: this took so long bc im not lyrically inclined and there isn’t even that many lyrics in here. i can’t even guys this was a nice break though. i liked the concept, i hope i lived up to your dreams. :)

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are both open loves!

check out my other writing on my full m.list

Sebastian was doing a press interview for his new movie. It was his first on television interview. First time being back in the studio for The Late Late Show with James Corden. First time since you and him had gotten together. He was eager to see what James had in store for him.

He was wearing a bright yellow shirt paired with a red leather jacket. His legs were clad with a different pair that he wanted to wear originally because you couldn’t get quite enough of his thighs. Had he worn the other pair, there would’ve been a prominent wet spot on one leg where you rode him to your own satisfaction. The memory made him bite his lip and adjust his pants to try to quell his oncoming boner.

“Good luck out there tonight, lovey. You’re gonna crush it.” Your voicemail warmed Sebastian’s heart. He missed you a lot, but you were currently on your own press junket. Your new album finally came out and your manager had been running you ragged. Sebastian was so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

“Hi, Mr. Stan. You’re needed on deck in five minutes.” He nodded at the assistant producer who stuck her head in his dressing room. Sebastian ran his hands through his hair one more time before deciding enough was enough.

“Well, this is as good as it's gonna get.” He murmured to himself as he walked out of the dressing room. He rolled his shoulders, snuggling into the leather jacket encasing his back. Sebastian took a swig of a water bottle from the table backstage. He still got nervous when doing interviews, always worried that he’s going to say the wrong thing.

“And now I would like to introduce our next guest. You’ve seen him as Bucky Barnes in the Marvel Cinematic Universe for the last ten years. He’s played the borderline psychotic Jeff Gillooly in I, Tonya, and the corrupt Sheriff Bodecker from The Devil All The Time. It is my pleasure to introduce the one, the only, Sebastian Stan!”

James stood, clapping as Sebastian made his way to the main set area. He raised his right hand, his left remaining on his stomach. As he approached James, Sebastian switched hands, his left coming up as an offer for James to shake. Afterwards, James held his hand out to the chair beside his desk, waiting for Sebastian to sit down.

“Hi, Sebastian! It’s so good to have you back.” James’ accent broke Sebastian’s name up into three distinct syllables, bringing a smile to Seb’s face.

“It’s good to be back, man.” He grinned big, waiting for James to ask the first question. Once they got into it, the interview went smoothly. Sebastian was able to avoid giving out spoilers for his new project, leaving just enough to the imagination. James was in a fit of laughter after Sebastian had told a crazy story from being on set. James wiped tears away from his lower lashline, calming down just enough to catch his breath.

“Okay, so I want to move onto something else.” Sebastian sobered up quickly, unsure of where James was taking the conversation. “We want all the juicy details about your relationship with Y/N.” Sebastian’s brow raised as he pulled a face at James’ question. He laughed to himself for a minute before answering.

“Ya know, we really have you to thank for that.” Sebastian pointed at James, before bringing that same finger to rub his eye.

“Really?” The man’s voice pitched up, brows hitting his hairline.

“Oh yeah. We were only introduced because of your show.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, remembering that night with you. The two of you had gone out for drinks, talking for hours at the bar and then even longer in his hotel room. He remembered waking up with you wrapped up in his arms. You didn’t have sex that night, but you definitely did the second night.

And oh god, if  that second night wasn’t just as amazing as the first. The face you made whenever you climaxed danced it’s way to the forefront of Sebastian’s mind. Not good, definitely not good. He had to readjust himself in his pants again, crossing his legs to cover up his rather large problem.

“Yeah, we started dating that same week. Kept it quiet though.” Sebastian held his palm out in the air, bouncing it up and down.

“Right, right. And do you want to tell everyone how you did end up revealing that you and Y/N were an item?” Sebastian looked down at his lap, smirking to himself. “Or should we just play the clip?”

A clip played for the studio audience. It was Y/N doing her makeup for the Vogue Beauty Secrets Youtube video. Sebastian waltzed in the background of the shot. It then cuts to Sebastian kissing Y/N on the cheek, brandishing the hickey’s that she had sucked onto his cheek the night before. Mhm, I remember that night too.

Sebastian had surprised Y/N by coming to see her. He wasn’t doing anything and he missed you, so why waste a perfectly good opportunity. He spent the night there completely ravishing you until you begged him to stop. That night he proudly wore your thighs as earmuffs, burying his face in you. He really needed to stop reminiscing during an interview.

“How adorable. Was that planned at all? Or did you just do that because you could?” Sebastian shook his head, his right hand scratching at the stubble decorating his jaw.

“Oh, no. It definitely wasn’t planned. I honestly don’t remember if I knew Y/N was filming that morning, so I’m just glad I put on pants before I left the bedroom.” James laughed at Sebastian’s comment.

“Okay, so I’ve gotta ask your opinion on something though.” Sebastian made a hum of acknowledgement, signalling for James to continue. James leaned back, pulling out a cardstock of your new album. “So, this is Y/N’s new album, it just came out about three or four weeks ago?” The crowd clapped for you, and Sebastian cheered along with them.

“What do ya want my opinion on? If it’s the album, then I gotta tell ya, I loved it. Every single song on there is absolutely amazing.” James nodded, a smirk forming on his lips making Sebastian think he made a mistake.

“So you’re aware of the song Europe?” Sebastian smirked, nodding his head because he knew where this was going. “Would you like to tell us what that’s about?” James laughed as Sebastian stammered, looking for the right words. “I mean, let’s just read some of the lyrics.” James looked at the cards in his hands as Sebastian drifted into his thoughts again.

You had brought him into the studio before finalizing Europe. He remembers watching you twist your hands at your waist and continuously cracking your knuckles. Sebastian was curious because you hadn’t ever been like that when showing him a song before. Every question he had about your anxiety revolving around the song was thrown away when he heard it.

Europe was an ode to Sebastian, all of Sebastian. He couldn’t help pulling you down onto his lap by your waist as he listened. You were the only two in the studio, so the two of you were free to do whatever you wanted. The funny thing about that night was that there was a new track recording.

“Oh shit, Seb.” The dam broke afterwards, peels of laughter leaving your lips without explanation. Your right hand raised to your mouth, attempting (and failing) to quiet your giggles.

“Babe, why the ‘oh shit’?” You held up a finger to your lips, telling him to be quiet and listen. He strained his ears, waiting for his own ‘oh shit’ moment. Then, his own voice filtered into his ears, making him crease his brow in confusion. “What is that?”

“That’s the audio from when I first played you Europe.” Small giggles passed your lips again. “I was going to ask you if I could use, like, a sound byte from it for either the beginning or the end of the song.” Sebastian nodded, slightly amazed that you were so creative with your work. “But, I forgot to turn off the recording.” Sebastian’s eyes locked on your expression, waiting for him to connect the dots. He pulled a face and then,

“Oh shit.” His eyes widened, a huff of laughter escaping. “Wait, so it caught all of it?” Your lips rolled inwards, holding back laughs as you nodded your head. Sebastian raised a brow, his eyes flicking over your face. “Use it.” He had a few new hickeys after that night too, but not after decorating your body with a few of his own.

“Sebastian, I would like you to read a few lines from the song, please.” James handed Sebastian a card, a snort leaving Sebastian’s body involuntarily. He glanced at the cards, know the lyrics by heart already. He took a big breath, reading the lines that James chose. He threw him a look with his eyes, head tilting slightly toward the British man.

“Uh, okay, here we go.” Sebastian laughed to himself, blowing out a breath through clenched lips. He lifted the card again, “You know,” dropping his hand back to his lap while raising his other hand. “You know, she’s gonna make fun of me for this right?” James laughed, looking into the camera as if he was on The Office, then to the audience with a duh look on his face.

“Sebastian. We’re going to make fun of you.” The crowd didn’t hesitate to join in James’ amusement. Sebastian dropped his head into his hands, groaning loudly. “Do you need a little encouragement?” The audience began cheering and clapping for Sebastian.

“Fine, alright, alright.” He shook his head before starting. “Long nights with hickeys earned like a badge of honor. Teasing kisses, twisted sheets, all signs of true seduction.” Sebastian looked up from his hands, expecting James to say something. All James offered, though, was a wave of his hand for Sebastian to continue. “I never have to worry because all my sins are forgiven when I’m with you.” James held his hand up, stopping Sebastian from continuing.

“Okay, let’s dissect that, Mr. Stan.” James propped his elbow on his interview desk, placing his head at an angle in his palm. “What is this song about?” Sebastian’s lips curled inward, stopping himself from laughter.

“James,” Sebastian leaned forward against the arm of the couch. “I thought this was a family show.” The British man quirked a brow, sweeping both hands in front of his body gesturing to the studio.

“This is the Late Late Show, Sebastian.” He turned back to the audience, addressing them and the cameras. “And that is all the time we have tonight! Thank you to Sebastian for coming on the show with me tonight! And thank all of you for tuning in tonight. We’ll see you next time.” The producer beside the camera signaled that the show ended and Sebastian turned back to James.

“It’s a good song.” Sebastian smiled wide afterwards, saying his goodbyes to the crew. He was back in the safety of his dressing room when his phone started ringing.

“Hello?” He knew that it was you from the personally assigned ringtone you picked out when he wasn’t looking.

“The Internet is going to eat you alive.” Sebastian grinned as your peels of laughter trickled in through the speaker of his phone.

“Oh yeah, could you imagine if I told them that it wasn’t just random sounds at the end?” He could just imagine your smirk at his mention of your little addition to Europe.

“We’re gonna have to do that again.” Sebastian paused, waiting for you to explain. “Although I think next time we should do a visual along with the audio. You pickin’ up what I’m putting down Stan?” Sebastian smirked to himself, thinking about being able to watch himself bring you to the brink over and over again, even when you’re not together. His pants got tighter at the idea.

“I think we might have to look into that, Y/L/N.”

[cherryatiny]

𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 <333

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

Letting the last droplets of water fall on your exposed shoulders, you turned the water off, putting the showerhead to its previous place after showering the bubbles of your body. Drying your body with a soft towel you prepared beforehand, you slipped into your underwear, opening the bathroom door and going to the bedroom, being met with the sight of your husband Hongjoong, who was currently laying on your shared bed, watching some things on his phone with headphones plugged in.

His eyes peeked on your exposed figure and as they landed on your stomach, they immediately widened, you could see how he swiftly jumped from his place, falling on the ground from the unsuccessful jump. Collecting himself, he got on his knees in front of you. „What the fuck are you doing Joongie?” Hongjoong was switching between looking at your belly and looking up at your face.

„Oh my, you grew a baby bump, oh my god, that's my baby inside you.” His hands cupped the bottom of your belly, poking it with amazement in his eyes, trying to find out if it's really a baby growing inside of you. „Waah, neither of these feel real, whether the fact that there's a tiny clump of cells growing inside of you, that will eventually turn into a human being or the fact that you're so fucking cute with this cute little bump. Literally, how did a deserve you?“ letting out a small chuckle at his words full of amazement, you kneeled to be on his eye level, looking deep into his sparkling dark eyes and pecking the tip of his nose, putting your hands on top of his. „I have the same question, Kim Hongjoong.“

⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Stirring the veggie mix in the wok, you rummaged through the cabinets, looking for soy sauce to add to the vegetables. Humming to a random song you heard on a radio a few days ago, swinging your hips to the rhythm. „What are you cooking, darling?“ Almost jumping from your spot as your husband Seonghwa unexpectedly wrapped his arms around your waist, you tried to calm your breath still shocked from the unanticipated touch.

„Hwa, baby, you should work on this awful habit of yours, I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. Please let me know beforehand before you talk or hug me from behind. Stirred veggies with rice and tofu.“ Nuzzling his face into your neck like a hurt puppy, he apologized for scaring you in a tiny barely hearable voice.

Embracing you in a tight hug that kept you close to him as you cooked. „Hm, wait, what is it?“ Turning your head around to look at his confused face. „What do you mean?“ His hands started to caress your lower stomach, poking and pressing on it. „What are you doing Hwa? It tickles!“ Not stopping his actions you slipped out of his embrace, turning your body around to face him.

„Wait, let me touch it again, I swear it changed,... like the structure of your stomach, it's different.“ Kneeling in front of you he lifted your t-shirt, looking at it and resuming his previous actions. Squirming from the tickling touch of his fingers, you let out soft squeals. „Oh my god, Y/N, it really changed. Could it be the baby? Oh my, right, it must be the baby, your lower belly is rounding.“

„You weirdo, examining the changes in the structure of my stomach.“

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

As you finished cutting some fruit for the boys, you placed the bowls on the coffee table in their living room. Your husband Yunho sitting on the couch watching as you took care of his friends, his hand wrapping around you and pulling you back to his lap, your back falling onto his chest. „Rest baby, you don't need to take care of them, they're adults, even though they sometimes don't act that way.” nodding and smiling at his playful advice. „But I want to, you know I have to train these motherly skills for our baby.” whispering into his ear for only him to hear, you turned around to face the boys who were half-arguing about who's the best character in a show they're watching.

„Eat up, I cut those fruits for you, you need vitamins.” before you even finished your sentence, Yeosang was already stuffing his mouth with watermelon, making you all burst out laughing. „No worries Y/N, you should rest, also can I ask you something?” nodding to Hongjoong's hesitant words, he asked you the question he was referring to.

„I don't want to come off rude or anything, so please don't take it that way, but isn't your baby bump showing already?” the man underneath you quickly straightened up, bending down to look at your stomach because of his hyung's words. „Oh my god, Y/N, why didn't you tell me your baby bump is showing.” turning around to face Yunho's surprised face. „I thought you noticed..?”

Wooyoung and San let out loud laughter at how flushed Yunho was. „Yunho you should've seen how you looked right now, you really didn't notice Y/N's baby bump? I can't with you. Try to use your eyes sometimes. But to be honest, who would've thought that your sperm would grow to this size, impressive.” Those two couldn't stop laughing, Yunho only put on his expression of a hurt puppy as you pecked his nose with reassuring words. „Don't worry Yuyu, it might work out next time.”

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

When Yeosang found out that you're pregnant, he couldn't hide the happiness. He was so excited but so scared at the same time. Buying a lot of educational books and attending workshops, to know how to become the best dad. At the same time, he wanted your pregnancy to be memorable so you two can have lovely reminiscences to remember in a few years. Apart from the basic medical record, you two built up a habit of taking pictures every week, to see how your body changed as the weeks of your pregnancy passed.

„Okay okay, go there Y/N, keep still as every week.” Snapping the picture of your figure standing in front of the white wall from side and front. You sat down on Yeosang's lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you looked at the screen of the camera in his hands, switching between today and last week's photos. „Wah, Y/N look! Your baby bump got visible since the last week. Aww, our baby is growing well inside you.” smiling at his adorable attitude. „Aww Yeosangie, are you crying?” Amazed at how quick you noticed it, he swiftly wiped the tears off his eyes. „No I'm not crying, it was just dirt in my eye.”

„One day, when our baby will be older, I will tell it a story about how its father teared up when it was growing in my womb.“ Giving you a death glare, Yeosang turned off the camera with the photos he took. „Try to embarrass me in front of my child and I'm going to sublime into another galaxy.“ Chuckling at his sarcastic remark you hugged his muscular frame. „Please don't, I'd have no one to tease then, Sangie.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

Looking at yourself in the body-length mirror, you examined your body, hugging your frame and trying to cover the parts you didn't like. Especially the gained pregnancy fat on the lower stomach. Turning around, trying to find the angle you looked the best in. Not aware of your husband San observing your movements, while leaning on the door frame. His voice scaring the heck out of you, as he spoke. „What are you doing, darling?“ Turning around you looked at him, your hands wrapped around your body to cover as much as possible. „I- Don't you think I gained weight, Sannie? Especially some fat on my stomach and I'm not even that far in my pregnancy. What am I going to do? I feel so bad.“ San put on his pout at your negative remarks, approaching you, he stood behind you, looking at you in the mirror.

„Baby, I can't explain how much it hurts me to hear you thinking this way of yourself. You're absolutely gorgeous Y/N, darling, it's not any belly fat, and even if it was, it doesn't matter, it's your cute little baby bump. That's our baby that's showing and you shouldn't talk so negative about it.“ Kissing your temple and shoulders, he dropped on his knees, hands falling onto your bump, caressing it and letting his lips brush against your skin, giving it small pecks full of love. „Please Y/N, I'll do anything I can if it helps you overcome your insecurities. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on. You're also the woman that carries my child, and you have my full respect for that. And this cute little baby bump makes you even prettier honey. Now, should I make you some snacks? You need to eat meals with a lot of nutrients so you and our baby can be healthy.“ Smiling at his heart-warming words, you took his hand that tugged you out of the room, taken aback by how did you deserve a man like this.

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

„Mhm Y/N... I'm so exhausted“ your husband Mingi whined, coming out of the shower after working out. „Do you wanna watch a movie? Come on, lay yourself on me and relax, Mingi. There won't be as many opportunities to do this from now on, so lay down.“ Nodding the tall figure of your husband approached you, sitting down on the couch, you spread your legs to create a space for him to lay in, before turning on the TV with your favourite series playing. As Mingi was about to lay his head on your lower belly, he noticed the slight change in its size. Lifting your t-shirt he saw how your lower belly rounded.

„Oh my god- Y/N! Why didn't you tell me your baby bump was showing omo! Y/N Y/N, that's my baby!“ chuckling at his excitement over your belly rounding, you agreed to his words. „Yes, Mingi, that's your baby. Now lay down please, so we can watch the series.“ Brushing your fingers through his brown locks, you tried to softly push his head to lay in your lap. „I don't want to Y/N. You lay in my lap, I don't want to lay on your belly, what if I hurt the baby? Oh my, that would be horrible, I'm sure that since the baby is growing already, it would feel suffocated by my head laying on your baby bump.“ Raising your eyebrows at his gibberish, trying to hold back the laughter at his cute dumbness. „Mingi, please, respectfully shut the fuck up and lay on my lap, you don't want to anger a pregnant woman by not agreeing with her. You won't hurt the baby, so lay down.“ Putting on his 'scared puppy' expression, he listened to you, laying carefully on your belly, your fingers playing with his soft hair, making ponytails and braiding them as you two watched the series.

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

Clipping your fancy earrings and necklace set, you finished adorning your look with accessories. Looking at your figure in the tight-fitting velvet dress, that perfectly fitted the occasion of Wooyoung's business gala. Your eyes dropping at the baby bump that was getting more visible as the weeks of your pregnancy went on, especially in this dreses. But maybe it was just your detailed eye since no one appeared to notice, not even your husband.

Walking down the stairs to the living room where your husband Wooyoung was, already dressed in a well-fitting tuxedo. Playing some games on his phone while waiting for you to finish dressing and stuff. „Woo, I'm done.“ He turned around to look at you, his eyes widening at the ethereal beauty. „Waau, baby, that dress is breath-taking, absolutely worth the money. You're gorgeous, you look like an absolute goddess. Can you turn around?“ Turning around on your heels, showing off yourself in all angles for him to see, his cheerful clapping, like he was your number-one fan, let you gain confidence in yourself. „I don't remember marrying a model, but you for sure look like one.“ coming closer to you his arms wrapped around your frame, one hand falling onto your lower stomach. Leaning closer to you, Wooyoung whispered into your ear: „Especially with that baby bump, you look so cute, it adds to your beauty.“

„I didn't know you noticed...“ Wooyoung pouted at your words because he didn't know that was what you thought of him. „Of course I noticed, what do you take me for?... I just didn't want to mention it, because I didn't know how you felt about that and didn't want to make you insecure by mentioning your baby bump growing, but I just couldn't help myself, it looks too cute on you.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Work tired the heck out of you and Jongho couldn't watch your soulless state full of stress anymore. So his surprising gift for you in a form of a wellness trip was very appreciated. Having a week to spend to focus on yourself, your husband and the little bundle of joy in your womb, was the best thing he could give you. So as you two packed your belongings, and Jongho drove you two to the wellness hotel you could finally breathe out.

„Come on Y/N, let's take our luggage to the hotel room and then dive straight into a hot tub, I feel like my muscles are as stiff as rock.“ taking the luggage out of your hand, Jongho took them to your hotel room, your body fell on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed. „Get up, princess, we gotta go swimming and then we can go to a hot tub. Light exercise is important for a pregnant woman and her baby.“ groaning, you took the swimsuit Jongho threw at you and went to the bathroom to change, putting some dress onto it so you're not bare when you walk through the hotel.

Taking a deep breath after the hour of swimming, you thought you'd collapse from how exhausting it was. „Jongho I'm gonna kill you, you told me that we were gonna rest the whole week.“

„But exercising is resting as well. Okay then, if you're so exhausted, you can be glad that you have such a caring and strong husband, who has no problem with carrying you to the hot tub.“ Glaring at him, you could sense that he was just teasing you with his words. You yelped as he suddenly picked you up, carrying you bridal style, before getting into the hot tub with you still in his hands.

As he sat down with you still in his hands, you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling yourself into his chest. Not aware of his eyes glaring and examining your stomach. „Baby.“ raising your eyebrows at him, thinking he wanted to tell you something, since baby was one of the many nicknames he had for you. „Baby. There's a baby in you. I can see it, oh my- Can I touch it?“

i couldn't find Mingi's gif from this set, i'm gonna cry

[burningablaze]

(Milestone) Midoriya x Reader - QNA

A/N: This is special fic for me to say thank you to my 100+ followers so I hope you enjoy this special milestone fic and thank you

Summary: After a long time, you finally reached your milestone that you’ve been trying really hard to achieve. Now that you couldn’t wait to tell your best friend, Midoriya

Ler: Midoriya

Lee: Reader

Words: 1,014

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Midoriya! Midoriya! Oof!” You called out while running down to the living room and found Midoriya sitting on the couch, but you tripped and landed on the couch's arm. Midoriya gasped in surprise. “Y/N, are you okay? What’s going on?” He asked.

You breathed heavily with a smile. “I did it! I reached my milestone!” You said quickly. Midoriya’s face beamed. “Oh shit!” He gasped suddenly covered his mouth. You giggled. “I just cursed! Hahahahaha!”

The two gave out the last chuckle or so. “But really?” He asked. You nodded rapidly. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” Midoriya said excitedly. He pulled you closer to him and hugged you tightly.

“Remember I would record my progress?” You asked, looking up at him. “Hmm? Oh yeah. It’s been a very long time since you’ve done that.” Midoriya said.

Recording every milestone you’ve accomplished has been something you’ve been doing for a long time. You thought it would help you look back and see how much you’ve been changing so much. This has indeed helped you to get through your darkest times.

“Do you want to do it today?” Midoriya asked. You nodded with a wide smile. “Then we can go to your room.” He said.

“Okay, it’s recording.” You said, adjusting your camera, then sat down on your chair. “So how should we celebrate your milestone, Y/N?” Midoriya asked. “I’ve always wanted to do this.” You said and typed on your laptop.

“A QNA?” Midoriya asked. “Mmhmm.” He smiled. “Why not?” “Yay!”

“Let’s start with this question. Who is your hero?” You read out loud. “I would say… Midoriya!” “Aww!” Midoriya whined adorably and blushed as you threw your arms around his shoulders for a side hug.

“What is your biggest fear? Uh, Bakugou.” You joked. Midoriya laughed. “What?! He scares me!” You exclaimed.

“What makes you laugh the most? Midoriya’s rambling.” You laughed after that. Midoriya looked offended but wasn’t taking it personally. “Excuse me! You said you love my rambling!” “Hahahaha, I lied!” You laughed harder at Midoriya when he slumped in his chair, playing dead. “I’ve never felt so betrayed in my life.” “Hahahahahahahahaha!”

You went through the list of questions one by one. Some questions you didn’t answer and some questions you responded to with funny remarks. You and Midoriya were having a lot of fun, just laughing and making memories.

“What about this one?” Midoriya said and read the next question. “Are you ticklish?”

You widened your eyes and felt your cheeks heating up. Before you could answer, you cleared your throat. “Uh, nope. What does this question say?” You tried to move on as fast as possible, but with a smirk on Midoriya’s face, he had to stop you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second.”

Oh crap

“Since when did you stop being ticklish?” Midoriya asked. You had no idea what to say to get out of your lie, but you had to think of something. “I’m just not ticklish. Do you want to ask this question?” “No, no, no, you can’t lie to me. Then what happened to that little tickle fight we had almost a week ago?” He asked. You gulped.

“Oh, would you look at the time? I have to go!” You said before getting out of your chair and sprinting to your door to leave your room. “Oh no, you don’t!” Midoriya managed to catch you before you could even touch your doorknob and settled you down on your bed.

“Wait, no, no, no!” You struggled while giggling nervously, feeling butterflies in your stomach as Midoriya lifted your arms above your head and pinned your wrists down firmly on top of your mattress while straddling on your thighs. “Nope! You had the nerve to lie to me in front of my face, and you know I don’t like liars, so your gonna get it!”

Double crap!

The first place Midoriya attacked first was your ribs, gently tweaking the bones and lightly scribbling the skin.

”Ehehehehehehehehehehehe dohohohohohon’t tihihihihickle!” You tried to pull your arms down, but you were too weak from the tickles.

“Don’t tickle? But you lied to me, so I’m punishing you!” “Plehehehehease dohohohon’t!” “Fine! Then I’ll go right here!”

Midoriya wiggled his thumb into one of your underarms and switched over to the other side a few times.

“Nohohohohoho not thehehehehere!” “Then where else am I supposed to tickle you?” Midoriya took a break from digging his thumb into your underarm hollows and scratched all around.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha stahahahahahap!” “Nope. Not happening.”

Midoriya glanced down to your belly then smirked slowly. “Hmm, I know where to tickle you next.” His finger scratched its way from your underarms to your belly until it was reaching a particular spot. “You know what’s gonna happen, Y/N!” Midoriya teased and slowly wormed his finger into your belly button.

“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! NAHAHAHAHAHA! IT TIHIHICKLEHEHEHES!” “Oh, I know it does, and there seems to be a wiggle worm in your belly button! Kitchy kitchy coo!”

“STAHAHAHAP PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

Midoriya slowed down his tickling, allowing you to catch your breath but enough to keep you softly giggling. “Do you really want me to stop?” He asked seriously.

To be honest, you didn’t want him to stop. Sure he could ease his tickling a bit, but you were having too much fun until your stomach would hurt from laughing and crying your eyes out.

“I’m waiting,” Midoriya said in a sing-song voice and inching his finger closer back to your belly button. “Okay, okay! I want you to keep tickling me, but could you take it easy?”

Midoriya grinned. “Whatever you want,” He winked, then started tickling you again. His tickling was gentle and slow this time, no screaming with laughter, just cute high-pitched giggles.

When it was time, Midoriya stopped and let you go. You breathed softly with a smile. “Geez, Midoriya. I thought it was gonna go on forever.” You said. “Oh, I would never do that, would I?” Midoriya curved one corner of his lips up. “Don’t you dare tickle me again!”

[books-and-catears]

Im actually unsure if ive sent a request already (if i did im sorry i have1 terrible memory T-T;;)

But if not would it be okay to request for an GN! MC who the brothers realize was a big idol back in the human world but they never said that to them? Like maybe they found through magazines or internet or smth?

Hope this is okay and have a good day!!

Awww honey don't apologize! Also thank you so much for the request! You have an amazing day too!

This is such a interesting and hilarious ask!This is going to be super fun to write hehehe :3

(Oh and just a general fact for anyone who comes across my blog I try to always make my MC gender neutral unless a specific gender is requested.)

Lucifer

Lucifer: For some reason there have been a lot of attempts to summon me from the human realm.

MC: Oh? That really works?

Lucifer: Well not always but we occasionally they get it right. But that's the not the issue here.

MC: Oh did they ask for something weird?

Lucifer: I got 22 summons. 18 of them had your name in their demands. And I checked their identities, they are not related to you, in any way. Mind explaining what's going on?

MC: *embarassed* I was slightly drunk on stage one day and might have told the people as a joke that if I ever went missing, they could try asking the devil for me.

Lucifer: Your people? Do you have cult up there?

MC: Well cult is a strong word. Fanbase is the more commonly used term...

Lucifer: How many people?

MC: Um...

Lucifer: How many more times will I be summoned MC?

MC: Um a few million times?

Lucifer: *exasperated dad noises*

Mammon

Mammon: MC what is net worth?

MC: Eh I'm not sure but maybe sum of assets or something

Mammon: YOU HAVE 20 MILLION WORTH OF ASSETS?

MC: Ah well I don't really accept it as mine cause there's a lot of people involved so I signed it over to my parents anyway.

Mammon: BUT HOW DO YOU HAVE THE ASSETS?

MC: 5 years worth of good record and merch sells are enough for it suppose?

Mammon: Records...MC you were a famous singer in the human world?!

MC: Ah well idol is what they called us. We had to dance a lot too.

Mammon: HOW COME NONE OF US KNEW THIS?! MC THIS IS HUGE WE CAN EVEN MARKET YOUR SKILLS HERE AND WE WILL BE RICH!

MC: *sigh*....this is why none of you knew.

Leviathan

Levi: MC can I tell you something strange?

MC: How strange are we talking?

Levi: Like when I saw you for the first time, you looked awfully familiar.

MC: Ah do I resemble some character you like?

Levi: An idol actually. There was this human world group that was a big hit for five years! But then they disbanded two years ago. You look like my favourite one. *Pointing to old poster*

MC: *looks at themself in ridiculous blue hair* Ahahhaa thanks Levi although I gotta admit that is my least favourite look.

Levi: You even have the same name as them it's almost uncanny- wait. Did you say 'MY least favourite look'?

MC: Guilty as charged....

Levi: YOU'RE ACTUALLY MC! THE MC! THE IDOL MC! *falls on the ground*

MC: Levi you okay?! Calm down it's-

Levi: MC IS IN MY ROOM!? MC IS SITTING NEXT TO ME?! MC IS LIVING IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME!? MC GOES TO MY SCHOOL!? MC IS MY BEST FRIEND?!

MC: Yes Levi...Yes to all of them now calm down please! You're going to have heart attack!

Satan

Satan: MC come here for a minute would you?

MC: Yes, Satan?

Satan: So I tried to procure some human world magazines for Asmo and ended up going through them myself and *flips to a page and pointing towards an old picture of you* by any chance is this you?

MC: Haha didn't expect you to recognize me with that get up.

Satan: So when were you going to tell us you're about your fame in the human world?

MC: Does it even matter? It has been two years since I've last been on stage I'm sure people have forgotten now.

Satan: The recent article disagrees. *Reads from magazine* "MC hasn't been active in any of their social media accounts recently. While they did tend to go on long breaks of inactivity, this hiatus has been stretching for 5 months. They haven't even appeared in any of their fellow member's pictures either. An interview with one of the members said, 'They haven't even been answering texts nor calls. Their parents tell us they've gone away for a while but won't tell us where."

MC: Jesus I leave for six months and they make a whole mystery novel about me.

Satan: Well it's rather fun to keep the people on their toes. I can think of ways to fuel this fire.

MC: Satan no-

Asmodeus

Asmo: *comes running into your room* MC! How could you not tell me!?

MC: Eh? Tell you what?

Asmo: That you had a partner in the human world already?! And that you both are a FAMOUS POWER COUPLE!?

MC: Eh? Who said I was-

Asmo: Don't you lie to me! *holds up an edit playing on his phone* Look at these two people under the same umbrella! You're the one holding it aren't you!? Who are they MC? Do you love them more than me?!

MC: *sigh* No Asmo, they're just a friend who liked to screw with the paparazzi. And the paparazzi was over eager with us cause a lot of people loved shipping us.

Asmo: And why were you shipped with them?! I'm clearly a better match!

MC: *scratches head* Ah probably I used to pull too many pranks with them on stage and we were given a lot of duets and dances together.

Asmo: Stage? Duets? Dances? MC ...were you an IDOL?!

MC: ....yes?

Asmo: *squealing* WAIT TILL I MAKE YOU BECOME AN IDOL HERE TOO ALONG WITH ME SO PEOPLE WILL SHIP US INSTEAD!

Beelzebub

Beel: MC I heard from the others that you used to be a famous idol.

MC: Ah they told you too? Atleast your reaction is much calmer.

Beel: I heard famous people get lots of gifts from fans! Including snacks and candy!

MC: Haha we did. Only we weren't allowed to eat them.

Beel: ...but it's your gift. Of course you're allowed to eat them?!

MC: *sigh* Being in a idol group meant having to maintain your looks at all times. And weight was a big issue. I remember during tours we only had to live off apples, cucumbers and pea soup for a week.

Beel: That doesn't sound nice at all. *sad Beel noises* Here MC. *gives you half his sandwich* You can eat as much as you like here!

MC: Thank you so much, Beel.

Belphegor

Belphie: Did you get enough sleep being an idol and all? Beel told me you used to be one.

MC: Between late night practices and early morning workouts? I managed on three hours of sleep.

Belphie: That's less than half the ideal amount for humans.

MC: Ah well all of us needed to be perfect with the performance or we'd be screamed at or worse suspended.

Belphie: Performance for people who only need to see your face to start screaming. So much wasted energy. It's good that you left. Adoration from a bunch of strangers isn't worth losing sleep.

MC: I know right? It is nice to have a lot of people love you maybe but if I can't even be awake enough to appreciate them... what's the point?

Belphie: Come here. *wraps you up in his blanket* I help you catch up on the years of sleep you've missed.

MC; Thanks, Belphie.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Go For Broke

Pairing → Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Characters → Brief mentions of Knives Out characters (maybe?)

Summary → A little bet has big consequences.

Word Count → 2.7k

Warnings → 18+, Swearing, Smut, Angst

Betas → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Bee's 7K of the Week Challenge; Monday - Ransom Drysdale, Tuesday - Smangst, Friday - Work Function, Saturday - The Dating Bet, (a blink of a praise kink for Sunday).

AFG2021 Square Fill→ "I said 'be sexy', not be a fucking blowfish" @anyfandomgoesbingo

A/N → As I mentioned above, this is for @negans-lucille-tblr writing challenge - congrats on 7k baby!! (I even kept it under 3k for you it wasn't going to be!) This is my first time writing for Ransom, and it doesn't have any connection to Knives Out, it's an AU.

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

Firefly’s Masterlist

You carried two steaming mugs of coffee and nudged the ajar door open with your foot to Ransom’s office. He had leant back on the large leather chair and was taking in the views through the floor to ceiling windows.

He spun round in his chair and you were hit with the scent of his cologne, it had your stomach fluttering with butterflies. His legs parted wide, and the sight was something to behold; the thickness of his thighs and the way his large hand rubbed the top of one.

It was never going to happen between you two. He was Ransom Drysdale, a well-known playboy and skirt chaser. And you, you were his assistant.

He wasn’t the type of man you were after. You wanted someone permanent, someone, that wasn’t just a fuck buddy. But at least you got a little something for the spank bank every now and then.

“Like what you see?” You were caught red-handed by his crystal blue eyes and the lopsided smirk that you adored.

You brought the iPad in front of him to life, “This is your schedule for today. Harlan said that he’s rescheduled the board meeting with Walt to next week so we can relax a little bit. Said there was something to do with taking a risk or gamble?”

Ransom’s head snapped up, and his tongue darted out across his lip, a nervous tick that you’d long ago discovered. You felt a warmth bloom at your core and tried to hide the way your thighs nestled together to ease the growing heat.

Ransom scooted backwards in his chair and announced, “I need to get out of here.”

“You’ve just arrived, you can’t play hooky, you’re the boss.” You protested.

“That’s exactly why I can,” Ransom asserted and pulled his coat back on. “Let’s get lunch at that diner we went to last month. It’s quiet and nobody knows me there.”

You had become used to the whirlwind that Ransom brought with him the second he entered a room, but this was different. He seemed on edge rather than angry and you weren’t sure what had happened in the ten minutes you were away making a coffee.

“But I just made us coffee.” You pouted at him; he knew that you needed that delicious nectar.

“I’m buying lunch now get your coat,” Ransom demanded.

You rolled your eyes and did what you were told, much to your chagrin.

Ransom had driven like a mad man in his classic beamer to get you to Ruby’s Diner in record time. You scolded him once or twice when he just missed the red lights. But he didn’t seem to relax like he usually did when he entered.

All was forgiven when the waitress placed two steaming plates of burgers and milkshakes on the table. You were in heaven and thanked the waitress as you dunked a chip in the sauce.

“What is wrong with you today?” You asked.

“What are you talking about? I’m just being my usual self.” Ransom shook his head and threw the raggedy napkin across the table away from him.

You remained silent and continued to eat, allowing him to stew over whatever it was that was eating at him. It didn’t take you long to demolish your lunch, but Ransom still hadn’t touched his food. All he had done since you told him off was chew on his lip and glared at the sugar dispenser.

“Okay, seriously, you need to start talking.” You challenged.

He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, “Okay, but you can’t freak out.”

“What did you do?” Your eyes went wide as your mind ran wild with all the crazy things that he could possibly do in the last twenty-four hours.

Ransom looked up at you and laughed, “I can’t take you seriously right now.”

“What?” You frowned, feeling a mixture of confusion painted across your features.

His hand gripped your chin and his thumb swiped away at the sauce that you’d long forgotten. The heat on your cheeks grew tenfold and you coughed when he hadn’t removed his hand from your jaw.

“Ah yeah sorry. Sauce.” He stammered.

You smirked, you’d never seen him this worked up before, what had gotten into him, “So?”

“Okay, don’t fucking freak out on me but someone in the office wanted to make a bet with me. About you.”

You stared at him, all of your thoughts emptied out into the diner, “I’m sorry, what? I think you need to say a bit more than that.”

Ransom explained how one of your co-workers approached him and placed a bet that he wouldn’t be able to bed you before the corporate summer party.

“Who the fuck was it?” You growled; hands clenched on the edge of the seat.

“I’m not telling, I don’t want you to start a fight. You’re my favourite pers-assistant.” Ransom shook his head and began to nibble on the fries. His face screwed up at the realisation they were cold.

“Hold on. You agreed, didn’t you?” Your heart raced.

“I did. I have a reputation to uphold.” He smirked, “and was worth it, you should see your face right now.”

You scowled harder, “how much was the bet?”

“Ten thousand.” He shrugged.

“Fuckin’ hell Ransom, you’re cocksure, aren’t you?” You laughed at him, “why did you accept it?”

“That’s loose change to me.” Ransom shrugged and brought the replaced milkshake to his lips, tongue curling around the straw.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But I want half.” You explained, mirroring his action with your own milkshake.

Ransom choked on his drink and quickly rushed out his words, “you what?”

“We aren’t having sex, Ransom.” You rolled your eyes and placed the drink down, “If they ask, I’ll just say we did. It keeps your reputation intact. No harm, no foul.”

“They want proof.” He raises his eyebrow.

“Fuck sake, okay. Come over to mine tomorrow night and we’ll take some fake dirty pictures.” Without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the booth, “Now, I do have some work to do and funnily enough, so do you.”

“Anyone would think you were the boss.” Ransom playfully sulked and placed some money on the table.

“I might as well be.” You gestured towards the door, “Move it.”

The black baby doll was just perfect for this photo session. It was a little see-through, but your modesty was covered with the lace detailing skimming the tops of your thighs. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you had to get this over with sooner or later. With one final look in the mirror, you steeled your nerves and opened the bathroom door and slowly walked to your bedroom.

“Hello,” You anxiously stuttered, “Where do you want me?”

Ransom’s eyes darkened at the sight of you, his large hands rubbing along his thick thighs, just the way you had admired yesterday. You internally berated yourself, this wasn’t sex. It was all fake. It was an easy win for you both - Ransom kept his reputation and you got a nice little pot of gold for a rainy day, or week.

“Just lay down on the bed and look sexy.” He commented, unhelpfully.

You nodded and shuffled around until you found a comfortable position, with your arms draped above you. It didn’t feel sexy, it felt awkward and uncomfortable. Why is this so hard? You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body and turned to face Ransom. He’d moved the left side of the bed, his phone in hand ready to take the shot.

“Ready?” Ransom asked, and you thought you saw a sparkle of sincerity in his eyes with his one worded question.

“Yes,” you said and gave him your best pout and ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“I said ‘be sexy’, not be a fucking blowfish.” Ransom snapped.

You bolted up from your position, kneeling on the edge of the bed to get back on his level but it was no use, the man was still towering over you, “I’m trying, I’m not exactly in the mood.”

Ransom raised his brow from above, and you hadn’t quite realised how close you were to him, his stomach mere inches from your chest. The lack of response grated on you, his face was irritating, and you were ready to shove the five grand up his ass.

“Actually, this could work.” Ransom pulled off his shirt and revealed the tight muscles. Your anger morphed into desire; you wanted to reach forward and touch him but kept your hands refrained at your sides. “Now, look up at me and bite your lip.”

“Perfect.” He smiled down at you and cupped your face. His thumb stroked the apple of your cheek and paired with his words; a shiver ran down your spine.

Instinctively, you bit down your lip and unbuckled his belt to the sound of the camera shutter. Hands traced Ransom’s abdomen and he sucked in a breath as you stroked a sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” you mumbled and looked up at him, “maybe we should have some photos where your face is in it too?”

Ransom didn’t need to be asked twice, he pulled down his chinos and exposed his thick muscular thighs. Your mouth watered and warmth bloomed in your tummy at the sight of the black Calvin Klein’s hugging his groin.

You rearranged your position to lie down amongst the sheets while Ransom crawled onto the bed to kneel between your legs. His hand cupped under your knee and hoisted one of them up to his hip.

“You might need to take this one,” he handed the phone to you.

Just as you went to take the photograph, Ransom’s other hand slid underneath the baby doll. It sent another wave of pleasure through your body. His smooth hands stooped just beneath your breast and it almost made you whimper. Almost.

With an attempt to gather your bearings, you decided to focus on his phone and snap a few pictures of this new position. But seeing those little images captured and whizz into the corner made you want more. There was no point denying it as you felt the tell-tale signs of your arousal between your legs. But did Ransom want it?

Ransom moved the sheer material up and lifted your leg higher, over his shoulder. Before you could ask what, he was doing, his body dipped down, his lips so close to pressing against your stomach. Oh god. Your body instantly betrayed you as your hand went straight into his messy short locks eliciting a deep groan from Ransom. His hot breath fanned across your skin, goosebumps raising in its flow.

You took some more pictures, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties, the heat growing and growing up your body. Ransom returned to kneeling and you noticed the prominent bulge in his pants, and you finally got your answer. He did want it.

A mischievous smirk replaced the smile on your lips, “you’ll want to take these.”

You sat up and turned around so that you were kneeling in front of him and giving a great view of your behind. Ransom couldn’t restrain himself, his hands instantly gripped at your hips and pulling you back towards him. He growled and you whimpered as he rutted between your cheeks.

“Ransom, the photos?” You sang out and smirked into the pillow.

“Oh yeah, right.” Ransom spluttered and began to take the photographs from this new position then you heard the soft thud of the phone dropping onto the mattress, “hang on a minute.”

Gracefully, he spun you around and managed to get underneath you to seat you just above his hips. You were entranced by the dark lust-filled eyes that studied your body, following the hands that skimmed along your waist.

His touch sent sparks across the exposed skin of your chest, his fingers toying with the lace trim as they descended the plunging neckline and over your breasts. You rocked against his stomach, giving you just a little bit of pleasure from the friction at your core.

Ransom bolted upright, one arm wrapping around you while his other hand brought you closer until his mouth met yours. The kiss was heated, it pulled you deeper into the need for more, to have him deep inside of you. Ransom’s tongue swiped along your bottom lip, demanding access and you obliged without hesitation.

You’d only thought of him, like this, late at night and alone. It was nothing compared to your wildest fantasies to have him kissing you like this or to feel him hard beneath you. You squirmed to feel him better, but he broke the kiss.

“Sorry,” He panted.

Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him regretting what had barely started, “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have,” Ransom avoided eye contact and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than you already had done, “we just got carried away.”

“Ransom, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will kick you out.” You raised your eyebrow in a challenge.

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Chatter and laughter filled the gaps of the song blasting through the speakers set up around the roof terrace. The large projector screen reeled through photographs of colleagues, in and out of work, successes in the tabloids and social media. Pool water splashed over the edges with each dive-bomb or flirtatious swish between colleagues. You watched on behind the sunglasses and relished in the sunshine beating down. It was rare to have such perfect weather and you wanted to soak up as much of the rays as you could.

The moment you spotted Ransom talking to a few people over at the bar, you thought now would be the best time to approach him. It had been a few hours since you arrived, and you only last saw him the morning before, and a few weeks since that first night. You both wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t how you expected things to happen but neither of you regretted it.

The nearer you got to the bar, you suddenly felt like everyone’s eyes were on you. Side glances from the Marketing girls, a laugh, and a grimace from a few others. Then you saw Ransom rushing up to you but also looking behind.

Before he reached you, you spun around to the projector and saw a display of all the photos you and Ransom had taken that night. Your stomach dropped, nausea taking over until you were about to collapse on the floor.

Hands gripped your shoulders, spinning you on the spot. You looked at the terrified gaze of Ransom. His lips were moving but your ears buzzed with the hum of blood pumping through. Unable to process what had happened, you tried to escape. To get away from the people that were staring, gawking, at you. At you and Ransom on the screen and then down to the pair by the bar.

“Please talk to me,” Ransom pleaded, “I didn’t know that’s what she was going to do.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked, your mind reeling with how this could be a vendetta against Ransom, and you’re caught in the crossfire.

Ransom’s eyes widened, “Yeah, probably a year ago.”

“You fuckin’ idiot. Get out of my way.” You tried to walk past him, but he blocked your path.

“Can I come with you?” He asked face paled.

You scowled, “No. Move.”

Ransom followed you, weaving between the crowds of sniggers and laughter. You could hear him pleading, almost begging for you to stop but you refused. You needed to get out of there and he was making it more difficult.

You skimmed the edge of the pool and Ransom grabbed your bicep, attempting to stop and turn you around. Without a second thought, you spun and shoved him. He fell backwards into the pool with a great splash. It only made you feel good for a split second until he resurfaced.

“Consider this my notice, I quit.” You turned on your heel and left the party, your job and Ransom behind.

The End.

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[spenciegoob]

A Short Film

A/N: hey hey hey... mid writing this I realized how much I jumped the gun and thought this was a good concept, but now that I’m thinking too hard about it, maybe it’s not. I also wrote too much of it to back down now, so hopefully someone out there enjoys this as much as I did in my head lol.

Summary: Spencer steps way out of his comfort zone to ask his film major girlfriend a question.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: nothing really...  Spencer hardcore struggling with technology

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

___

“Hey Garcia, do you think you could help with something?” Spencer asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and not looking up from the floor of her office.

“Of course, Boy Wonder? What can I do for you?” Garcia answered while excitedly turning her chair back to her wall of screens.

Spencer grabbed the extra chair in her office and mumbled, “Actually um,” causing Garcia to completely abandon her position and fully face the genius.

“Spencer, are you okay? Is something wrong?” Spencer couldn’t blame her for asking. He was sweating more than usual, his face was bright red and he hadn’t stop fiddling with his hands since he shut the door.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just, uh, I don’t really know how to ask this,” Spencer stumbled back. It was the truth after all. No life experience had prepared him for such a request, one that in the grand scheme of things was not a lot, but to Spencer.

To Spencer, it was everything.

“That’s okay. Take your time,” Penelope stated back, and coming from anyone else, Spencer would have believed it was sarcastic in nature. But he also knew that Penelope was one of the only people he could never find judgement or maliciousness from.

You were the other.

“So Y/N and I as you’re probably aware have been together for 2 years now, and you also know that she just got her degree in cinematography and design, which is really funny if you think about it because I know nothing about any of that, but she knows everything. You know, sometimes she’ll explain to me what she sees through her eyes and it’s nothing like what I’ve ever been able to. I’m rambling now but I want to do that,” Spencer spurted out, and once he was done, he took a breath so deep Penelope whole-heartedly believed if he spent one more second talking, he may pass out.

“Woah there, slow down. First of all, that’s adorable. I love Y/N so much. Second of all, how exactly am I supposed to help you see things that way? Shouldn’t she be more help?” Penelope questioned, now completely confused about Spencer’s intentions with this very early morning visit.

“She can’t exactly know. It’s kind of a surprise thing,” Spencer answered shyly. He hadn’t even gotten to the punchline and yet, he was contemplating every move.

Was this a good idea?

But when he saw the way Penelope lit up before she yelled, “Tell me everything, and spare no details. None!” He knew he would stop at nothing to make this perfect.

“So here’s what I was thinking.”

That was 1 year ago today, and since then, Spencer has tried to figure out what to say when he revealed his big project. He stood in front of the mirror every day for 365 days trying to find the perfect way to put it. Still when you sat on your shared couch gazing up at him in amusement, confusion and adoration all at once, his mouth was dry and his throat clamped up.

“Spence, you’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?” You asked, watching as your boyfriend stared at you like a deer caught in headlights with a laptop and assorted cords in his hands.

“Uh, yes! Yes I am okay. I just need to um, this needs to go. You know what? I wasn’t told how to do this part, can you help me?” Spencer paced back and forth between you and the TV four times while he was talking before he stopped defeated in front of you. He wouldn’t have asked for help unless he was certain Penelope was smart enough to insert a black screen in the beginning of what caused the laptop to burn a hole in his hand.

“Yes, of course,” you said, slightly chuckling at his confusion. Spencer Reid and technology, whilst tragic, was also very adorable. “What are you trying to do?”

“I need the video on the laptop to play on the TV,” he stated simply. At least he knew what he wanted. That was a new, first step in the right direction.

“Okay easy. Just hand me that cord, and,” you drew out the ‘and’ as you bent around the TV and plugged in the cord. “Perfect. Now just plug this end into the laptop and hit play.” You handed Spencer back his end of the cord, watching as he examined the object and the side of the computer to know where exactly to put it. It almost felt like watching a toddler try and find the rightly shaped hole for the triangle piece, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

Before he could break anything, you stepped in. “I know you’d be able to figure it out, but it’s that one.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled back sheepishly. 

“Okay so a little back story. A year ago today, I asked Penelope to teach me how to record videos on my new phone. Thank you for that by the way, the camera on it is really cool, and I’m not just saying that because it’s one of the only things I know how to work. Anyways, I started secretly recording videos of you, of us, anything that reminded me of you, and me talking about you. So I sent them over to Garcia and she pushed them all together, and I think what I’m trying to say is I made a short film? Home video? It doesn’t really matter, but I’m showing it to you now.” Spencer didn’t acknowledge the shocked look on your face as he settled next to you and put the laptop on the coffee table.

But as you watched him find the video and set up, your jaw stayed slack. Spencer Reid, the world’s biggest technophobe, figured out how to use an iPhone camera just for you. While to others it may not seem like a lot, to you. 

To you, it was everything.

“Spence, I don’t even know what to say. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” It didn’t feel like enough. The amount of awe, and love that filled your chest was so comforting, so warm.

It felt like home. It felt like Spencer.

“You don’t have to say anything, just watch,” he stated before hitting the spacebar, something he’s seen you do plenty of times.

The video started out with Spencer crouching down slightly to where the phone was set up against a bookcase in front of the couch.

“Is it recording?” He whispered, and when he realized it was, he took a step back and gave a thumbs up before rushing to sit on the couch. You couldn’t help but let a full smile stretch across your face, an involuntary act when it came to Spencer.

“Hey, love bug. It’s Spencer, but wait you knew that because you can see me.” There was a small pause as Spencer squinted to see if you could actually see him from his position on the couch. When he realized he was in frame, he continued. “This is totally weird that I’m technically talking to myself right now, but I hope future me gave you an explanation. I tried to wait for a good time to start recording this, and in the two weeks I’ve known how to work that thing,” Spencer said as he pointed to the camera. “We’ve been on a case. I came home tonight, and you’re sleeping right now, but if I stay quiet enough I can say what I need to.”

You looked over at Spencer as he was twiddling with his fingers. Something he only did when he was nervous. You reached over and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but when you tried to pull away so as to not truly disturb his fidgeting, he caught it. So, you intertwined your fingers together, and continued to watch past Spencer.

“I came home today, and all I wanted to do was hold you. Granted, that’s every day, but today was just, it was really hard. When I came home you were asleep on the couch. One time you told me you didn't like to sleep in our bed while I was away, something about it being too big. At first, I was mad because your poor back, but today I changed my mind because the amount of steps to get to you was much less.”

Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment, resting his head against the wood as he inserted the key into the lock. The most recent case had ended with the death of both the latest victim and the unsub, and he couldn’t bear another second of remembering the scene play out in front of him.

All he wanted to do was lay in her arms, but when he opened the door, the apartment was completely silent.

And then he saw a little fuzzy sock clad foot sticking out from underneath the huge, fluffy blanket on the couch. Slowly, he walked towards you, finding you fast asleep with a t-shirt of his tightly snuggled up to your neck and face.

Spencer got down on a knee in front of you, and brushed the hair that had fallen over your eyes. Slowly, they fluttered open at his feather touch, only to widen with realization.

“You’re home!” You squealed, throwing your hands around his neck. Immediately, he reciprocated the hug, tighter than usual. Spencer tucked his head into your neck and inhaled the scent of your shampoo, a grounding technique he would never tell you he developed. The hands he delicately placed at first across the expanse of your back grew heavier, drawing your body closer to his. 

You pulled your head back, him following your movements, and stared deeply into his eyes for a second. The moment you two locked eyes, he knew the jig was up. Spencer knew you could see right through him, and he knew that even if you weren’t there to witness what he had, you saw it replaying over and over in his eyes.

“You must be tired, let’s get you to bed.” Your words shocked him at first. Usually, the people in his life would ask insistent questions on his mental well-being, and while they were greatly appreciated, Spencer was never one to open up when asked to.

You, however, didn’t meddle, you didn’t push. You simply gave him a place to feel safe as you two settled under the duvet together, never letting go of one another even for a second. You held the back of his head, slowly brushing your fingers through his curls as he laid against your chest. Your fingers were medicinal to him, softly taking away the pain and violence of the day, and replacing it with security, comfort, love.

“No one’s ever been that excited to see me before, let alone knew how to take care of me the way you did. I just,” Spencer trailed off and looked towards our bedroom, where you stirred in your sleep looking for him. “You’re about to wake up and wonder where I went. Now you know what I was doing in “the bathroom” for 30 minutes actually meant. Alright, see you next video, love bug.”

The screen cut to Spencer obviously holding the phone close to his chest, the only thing in frame the space where his shoulder and neck met. The soft chords of the start of Vienna by Billy Joel can be heard from outside the room he was in. 

“Okay, I’m gonna have to sneak up on you. I’m sorry in advance.” 

Spencer finally addressed the camera. As the Spencer on the TV quietly left his position in what you could only assume was your bedroom, you looked over at your very real Spencer softly smiling at the TV.

When he caught your stare, he said “Watch, this is my favorite part.” Turning back to the TV, you watched as Spencer carefully tiptoed to the living room, placing the camera to lean against the vase in the middle of the dinner table to face the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you watched yourself very poorly sing along with Billy Joel using a whisk that you just got done washing as a microphone. The blush that crept up your neck and to your cheeks with embarrassment still felt the same as it did that day.

You hadn’t heard Spencer sneak up on you, not until he was right behind you and let out a soft chuckle at a note you missed. Spencer had never seen someone jump out of their skin as much as you did when he made his presence known. 

“Jesus Spencer, you scared me!” You yelled before a smile crept up your face. You couldn’t help it, even in the most embarrassing times, not when Spencer looked at you like that.

“Sorry, love bug. Although, I didn’t mean for you to stop the show.” At that you hit his chest with the whisk/microphone, both of you laughing fully now. “Come here.”

Spencer took your hand, pulling you softly to his chest where you laid your head to his heart. Wrapping his hand around your waist, the two of you started to slowly sway to the music. You both were incredibly offbeat to Vienna, but listening to Spencer’s heart, you realized that the tempo you were dancing at matched up. Unbeknownst to you, due to the adrenaline of being scared, Spencer could feel your heartbeat on his abdomen, and was swaying to that.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, dancing to the in sync beat of each other’s hearts.

The clip of you dancing however only lasted 10 more seconds as the next scene of Spencer bundled up for the fall played. You had met Spencer during the fall, and fell in love with the way the red, yellow and orange leaves contrasted against his honey eyes. This clip was no different.

“Hey, love bug. I’m on my way to deliver this coffee to you in between classes, but I had to stop so I can show you my new friends I’ve made along the way.”

The camera panned down to 4 little ducklings surrounding Spencer’s converse, most of them just waddling around, but one was insistently pecking at the rubber toe of his left shoe. Spencer pointed at the little deviant and said ‘that’s you’ before bringing the camera back up to his face.

“I may have made the mistake of feeding them the fruit I was bringing you, which reminds me I should probably go get you more. I don’t think you’ll be mad though. How could you? Look how cute they are! I kind of want to take them home, but I definitely know that’ll make you mad. Anyways, I just wanted to show off that you’re not always the animal person in this relationship. See you soon, love bug.”

“Oh my god, Spencer. That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but to confirm your thoughts, yes, I would’ve been mad,” you stated, the giddy smile never leaving your face, and giggles spreading themselves through your words.

“I know, I know. They belong in the wild,” he said back, holding up his free hand in faux defeat.

A new scene presented itself to you, this one being Spencer setting up the camera on the bathroom sink while brushing his teeth. You knew you were approaching by the music slowly getting louder.

You entered you and Spencer’s shared bathroom, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John playing out of your phone. He was brushing his teeth, and you followed suit, not stopping the small dancing as you did.

You looked at Spencer, and started moving side to side, your free hand grabbing the crook of his elbow to join you. Looking in the mirror expectedly, you watched Spencer look up at the ceiling before joining you, a smile on his face.

Slowly, the two of you fell into a rhythm to the beat of Elton John, making funny faces to each other in the mirror as you did so.

You reached out fully to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder as you watched.

The scene on the TV shifted once again to show a very flustered you standing in front of the TV with Citizen Kane paused. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you were sporting one of Spencer’s old Caltech t-shirts, and fuzzy black pants with little pumpkins printed everywhere.

Spencer was also wearing the same fuzzy pants.

“Spence, I’m gonna sound crazy here,” you sprinting off the couch after pausing the film you were currently trying to study for your film analysis class. 

“You’re not off to a great start here,” Spencer laughed out. Spencer once told you that no matter what he thought about a book or film, he wanted to listen to you ramble about it for hours. The first thing he fell in love with about you was the way you challenged his thinking, expanding his mind to the possibilities of learning about the difference between production design and cinematography. You taught him something that no class, book or person could ever.

Your mouth dropped open, an over exaggerated gasp leaving your lips, your hand meeting your chest softly. 

“Meanie.” Spencer and you chuckled at the antics, and when the laughs died down, you continued. “Here me out, though.”

And from there, you went into a deep dive about the unreliable narrator, and how it affects camera placement in the scene you two just watched. 

“Oh my god. I talk that fast?” You asked Spencer, who just let a breathy laugh out at your realization.

“Don’t worry, I think it’s adorable,” he whispered the last part, the smile on his face turning from one of hilarity to one full of love.

30 seconds into your rant, you realize the phone he was attempting to hide close to his lap. Your eyes flicked between the camera that was pointed at you, and Spencer, who’s face filled with confusion as to why you stopped talking.

“Are you recording me?” You asked, a smile never leaving your face. Oh no, he’d been caught. Spencer has to think of a believable excuse, and quick.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just uh... I figured instead of you trying to write it down later, you’d want all your notes now.” Perfect!

“Damn, that was good,” you said, nodding softly at his swiftness. You couldn’t be mad he lied, how could you when the truth was this beautiful?

“I know, right? I came up with it on the spot,” Spencer joked with you. As if TV Spencer knew he was interrupting a moment, a throat clearing came from the video. The Spencer you saw was from 3 days ago, and was sitting in his car in what looked to be the Quantico parking garage.

“Hi, love bug. I’m days away from showing you this, and I still don’t know what to say. I hope the me you’re with now has figured it out. So, uh, yeah. That’s it. Uh, take it away, future Spencer. Actually, you’d be present Spenc-” The video cut off, courtesy of Penelope Garcia.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, turning to face a very emotional you fully. “I still haven’t found the right words. None of them could express my love for you, and perfect doesn’t come close to describing you. I know you have a thing for supporting evidence, and I think I just provided a lot to prove that the best thing to ever happen in my life is you.” You let out a small giggle, the tears welling in your eyes breaking free. “Oh no, if you cry, then I’m going to.”

You let out a full laugh now as Spencer wiped the tears falling down your cheeks before continuing.

“Before you, I was reckless. I didn’t care what happened as long as I did something to help. Now, I have a reason to be careful, a reason to care. I can’t do that to you, and if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I need to live.”

You inhaled softly as Spencer reached into the pocket of his pants, taking your hand in his.

“Which brings me to my question,” he said with a small smile and cocked his head. Slowly, he dropped down to one knee in front of you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Spencer opened the velvet box to reveal a simple silver band with a square cut diamond delicately placed on top.

“Spencer Reid, yes. I will marry you.”

With shaky fingers, he slid the ring on your fingers, the fit perfect. You couldn’t wait any longer, and grabbed his face in your hands to pull his lips to yours. Your lips molded together in perfect harmony, lulling you deeper into Spencer’s embrace. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you, too,” Spencer answered, only pulling back far enough to mumble before kissing you again.

Note to self: thank Penelope Garcia.

____

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[missymurphy1985]

The Extra (part 9)

Warning - illness, mentions of death

Authors Note - I have personal experience of this horrific disease - I hope I don't upset anyone with it, but it's a topic very close to my heart.

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

A month had passed since you'd deleted his number and blocked him. You were staring at the letter in your hand, shaking. You knew this day was coming, but you'd pushed it so far down that you had only truly thought about it when Cillian had told you he loved you.

You'd told Liane the truth. Why you couldn't commit to him, even though you desperately wanted to. Truth be told you'd fallen for him just as hard - and that's exactly why you'd pushed him away. It was bad enough you had to live with this, you couldn't force someone else to. She'd encouraged you to get tested - and you knew she was right. It was time you took your life in your hands once and for all. You'd spent too many years since your mother's and sister's untimely deaths burying it.

Picking up the phone, you dialled the number, heart pounding. The receptionist answered.

"Morning. My name is y/n y/l/n. I had some tests. I've had a letter to say the results are in?"

"Can I ask what the test was for?" The receptionist asked.

"My GP referred me. It's for the breast cancer gene. I'd like to know if I carry it."

"Let me check our records Miss Y/L/N. Yes, I have your results here. Would you be available to come in this afternoon? We've had a cancellation?"

"Can you not tell me over the phone?"

"I'm not allowed to, the doctor has requested to see you in person." Your heart lurched, that was never a good sign.

You immediately wanted to call Cillian, but remembered you didn't have his contact details any more. You called Liane instead. She would pick you up at 2pm and go with you to the appointment.

Sat in the waiting room, Liane held you hand to calm you. Your nerves were in tatters. This disease had already taken so much from you - your mum, your older sister, two cousins... You knew there was a strong chance it was going to take you, too. The doctor called you through.

"Your results are here y/n. And I'm pleased to inform you -"

"What?" You gasped. The doctor smiled and took your hands in hers.

"Y/n, you don't carry the gene. It isn't there - your chances of developing breast cancer are no higher than mine, or Joan Bloggs on the street. You're going to be okay." Even the doctor had tears in her eyes. Liane was gobsmacked. You just burst into tears.

"I'm not going to die?"

"Oh honey if I had the cure for that I'd be a millionaire!" She laughed, you did too. You felt like the world had just been lifted off your shoulders, taking a dark cloud with it. A dark cloud you'd been living with for nearly 10 years. The real reason you'd split with your ex. The reason you refused to get your breasts out for auditions. The real reason you backed away from a life in acting. You didn't see the point if you weren't going to be here for the long haul... But now?

Now you'd been given a new life. A new start. And your thrown away the best chance of happiness you'd ever had in one stupid click of a button.

Liane noticed your sadness in the car on the way home. You suddenly realised you weren't actually heading home though, you were on the M6 heading to Wolverhampton.

"Erm.. where are we going?" You asked, seeing the sign for Wolverhampton fly past.

"Road trip."

"Destination?"

"It's a surprise!! Do you trust me?"

"Always..."

"Then don't ask questions."

You rolled your eyes and figured you were probably en route to Bicester Village in Oxford. That was your happy place - a day of shopping, good food, few drinks in the evening... Before long though, your eyelids grew heavy. You always fell asleep on car journeys, this one was no different. Within ten minutes you were out cold.

You felt Liane nudge you gently, waking you. Opening your eyes, you looked around, expecting to see the car park. Instead you saw terraced houses, a green park, and a street sign with 'London Borough - Kilburn' on it.

"Why am I in London??" You asked. Liane shrugged her shoulders.

"Fancied a change - never been before! Just got on the motorway and drove. Been years since we've done that hasn't it! Just drove with no destination?" You grinned, remembering the random road trips you used to take years ago. You'd ended up all over the UK, even catching a ferry to Amsterdam one Friday night just because you were bored!

"So what's the plan?"

"Let's go explore!" She paid for the parking via an app on her phone and you both climbed out the car. The houses were all Victorian style and beautiful. The park was glorious - the sun shining on it beautifully. Liane suggested a picnic in the park first to line your stomachs, then cocktails.

"Aren't you driving us home later?"

"Yes - I'll be on the mocktails! Come on, let's go find food... There's loads of little deli places over there!"

Picnic done, it was cocktail time. Sadly, there didn't appear to be a cocktail bar anywhere near... But there was a nice looking pub over the road. Settling on a normal G&T, you both made your way over. Liane sent you inside to get the drinks while she sat in the beer garden out the back.

Heading outside with two G&Ts, you looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found. You quickly scanned inside again just to make sure you'd not missed her. Setting the drinks down on a bench outside, you waited. Must've gone to the toilet. Taking your phone out you sent her a text letting her know where you were.

Ten minutes passed - still no sign. You were worried now. A ping on your phone.

"For god's sake woman open your eyes and look in the corner!!" Liane... What the hell? You looked up and nearly dropped your phone. Sitting ten feet away from you, on his own... Holding his phone in his hand and staring at you the same way you were staring at him. In complete disbelief.

He looked back at his phone and shook his head. Both of you realising you'd been set up. Completely played.

He stood up, you were convinced he was going to leave but he didn't. He sat opposite you instead.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey..."

"Can I talk before you do?" He asked. You nodded.

"I know... I didn't... Fuck this makes so much more sense in my head..." He laughed.

"Can I talk instead?" He nodded. You took a deep breath and told him the truth. About your family. The deaths. The illness. The tests.. and the results.

"That's why I pushed you away. That's why I push everyone away. But you were the first one I pushed that I regretted... I regretted it so much because no one had ever made me feel as alive as you did. No one made me float on air like you did. No one made me forget about this cloud hanging over me like you did..."

"You thought I'd leave you if you had the gene?"

"My Dad left when my mom was diagnosed. He couldn't handle it so he bailed. Wasn't a great role model."

"Your dad's a dick. I'm not." His brutal, dead pan response made you laugh. In fact you didn't just laugh, you were in hysterics. He laughed with you, and took your hands in his.

"If I promise not to tell you I love you, will you let me see you?"

"No."

"Erm... Okay?"

"I want you to tell me you love me, if you mean it. Then I'll decide."

"Y/N... I. Love. You. I fucking love you. I adore you. I've had the most miserable four weeks of my life thanks to you!" He laughed.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that.."

"It's okay. You can make it up to me."

"You're giving me a second chance?"

"I never gave up on the first one. But this time, we take it slow. Get to know each other. I'll start by asking if I can take you out to dinner tonight?"

"I have nothing with me... All my stuff's at home..."

"Fair enough. Then we have two choices. You go shopping with Liane and get yourself something.. or go home and we can arrange to meet another time?"

"I'm already here, and shopping was on our to do list. Dinner tonight sounds lovely."

"Unblock my number. I'll text you the details later, okay?" He finished his drink and pulled his jacket on, quickly typing a text as you unblocked his number. If only you'd known it was that easy to get his contact details again... The message pinged through.

"Thank you..." You smiled reading it. He leaned over and kissed your cheek softly, before walking away. Glancing back, smiling, as he left the pub.

Liane was with you in seconds.

"You sneaky little shit, how did you do this??" You laughed.

"Anto contacted me last week, said he was sick of Cillian moping. We kinda worked together... Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all. Where's Anto?"

"Right here." Anto appeared out of nowhere and you threw your arms around him.

"Thank you. For everything?"

"No need to thank me. This was Liane's idea. Bit of a rush to sort once you'd got those results but luckily you live 3 hours away and you sleep like the dead!" He laughed. "Now get yourself gone - you have a date to prepare for!"

[christinesficrecs]

A very long list of updated snowed in fic recs for @starsandmoony​ 💜

On my Way by Gia279 | 17.9K

Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.

He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.

A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.

I’ve got chills... They’re multiplying! by DropsOfAddiction | 12.3K | Explicit

Derek is literally wrapped around him, one heavy leg and one heavy arm pinning him tight to Derek‘s front.

Warm and steady breaths tickle the back of Stiles’ neck. He tries not to freak out and he wonders how he’s going to extract himself without waking Derek. He totally isn’t ready to face into this conversation.

Stiles stretches gently and Derek grumbles clutching him tighter in his sleep. Stiles tries not to yelp when Derek buries his face in the back of his neck.

Well fuck.

One Star Awake by zjofierose | 9.5K 

When Stiles gets stranded in the snow one dark and snowy night, he's in real danger. Fortunately, he gets rescued by a man on a horse.

Emergency Contact by bewarethesmirk | 1.2K

“Derek here hasn’t left your side,” the nurse coos, and Derek glares at her back. “You’re so lucky to have such an adoring husband.”

snow day by kellifer_fic | 8.3K

“It’s not a big deal. It just happens when I’m… cold,” Stiles offers, scratching gingerly at his head with a claw and then grimacing at it like it’s betraying him.

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, who are you to judge, wolfman?”

Your love warms me up by Smowkie | 1.2K

“At least it’s slowing down,” Stiles said, his lips slightly blue tinted and his teeth clacking.

“Yeah,” Derek said. Stiles had his arm hooked with Derek’s, and he was stumbling a little as they walked. “Come on, keep walking, keep warm.”

“Yeah, keep walking,” Stiles agreed.

Derek didn’t like how weak he sounded.

In the Dark Midwinter, Light by rhysiana | 3.7K | Mature

Really, Derek and Stiles being sent to an empty druid's cabin to fetch a book for Deaton and then getting snowed in could have gone so, so much worse.

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) | 4.9K

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious.

And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

three words have never come easy by the_problem_with_stardust | 1.5K | Mature

If someone had told Derek five years ago that Stiles Stilinski would be the one living in a secluded cabin in the woods, Derek never would have believed them. Even now, he had a hard time reconciling his memories of Stiles as a high schooler with the young man who preferred the quiet found amongst the trees.

Whenever he’d inquired, Stiles had just smiled that enigmatic smile, so like Deaton or Morrell, and said something about being unable to think around the bustle of town.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” by  jadore_hale | 2.3K

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed heavily, coming back down to earth, “But when you woke me up this morning and said that we needed to go out into the woods and find the evil Snow Witch that brought this shit here, I thought that was your emotionally stunted way of saying come build a snowman with me.”

In The Arms of A Werewolf by  literaryoblivion | 9.2K

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Stiles is flabbergasted. How is this even possible? Werewolves he can take. Poisonous lizard creatures, sure. Once dead, now living creepy werewolf uncles, bit of a stretch but he can roll with it. Sacrificing ancient druids that masquerade as teachers, okay fine. But this?

An honest to god abominable snowman? In Beacon Hills, California no less?

Nope.

Winter Storm Stiles by  42hrb | 2K

Stiles isn’t looking forward to weathering his first snow storm on his own, then he meets a handsome stranger at the grocery store who might be able to help.

Find Me Sitting Fireside by  kaistrex (weishen) | 13.2K

With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy’s identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek’s problems when he’s expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he’s secretly been in love with for the past four years.

Waiting for Winter by  Twice_Shy (notboldly) | 3.2K

Everyone had a soulmark, a special shape on their body that formed during childhood and was meant to lead each person to their soulmate.

Unfortunately, Derek’s soulmark is shaped like a snowflake, and that fact has been actively ruining his life since he was six years old.

world tilts by  wearing_tearing | 1.5K

The guy is gorgeous as hell, and Stiles kind of wishes he could stare at him forever.

He figures he deserves a treat after almost slipping to his death.

Wait, What? by  wangler | 5.3K

When a significant portion of the Beacon Hills Preserve ends up coated in three entire inches of snow, the pack looks into it. If by looking into it one means packing a bunch of garbage bags and huge Tupperware lids into the back of Stiles’ Jeep to go look for a decent sledding hill. Things go sideways, because of course they do.

A Very Sterek Christmas by  TobyRosetta | 13.5K

It’s actually snowing in Beacon Hills, and it’s got everyone out of whack. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Stiles decides to take some things up to the the old Hale Mansion for old Sourwolf himself. But when the storm kicks up and snows them both in, the night takes an interesting turn.

Blanketed by  got_the_bite | 3.3K

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek demands again. His voice is higher than usual Stiles notes.

“You would be such a nice tenor if you joined a choir,” Stiles thinks aloud.

But In Case I Stand One Little Chance by  mikkimouse | 8.6K

Stiles’s Jeep breaks down in the middle of the snowstorm. He’s rescued by his high school crush, and as the cherry on top, is trapped in a cabin with said crush until the roads clear.

Fuck his life.

Snow Flirting by thepsychicclam | 11,396

As Beacon Hills get pounded with foot after foot of snow, single dad Stiles can't quite keep up with his four year old, his job, and shoveling his driveway. Derek makes his teenage son shovel Stiles' walk, and that just leads to Derek helping Stiles out with a whole bunch of other tasks. That's okay with Derek, though, cause any chance to be with Stiles is okay with him.

Baby, It's Cold Outside by Jebiwonkenobi | 2,791

Beacon Hills has a snow storm. Totally-not-cuddling happens.

Come Fly With Me (Or Don't) by stilinskisparkles | 15,325

Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.

Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.

The Man in the Snow by mikkimouse | 15,894

Derek finds a young man injured in a ravine on the border of his ranch. That's strange enough, but the mystery only deepens when the young man wakes up without any memory of what he was doing out there.

Blizzard Boyfriend by literaryoblivion | 1,897

With a record-breaking snowstorm on the horizon, threatening a city shutdown for a few days, Stiles gets the bright idea to put an ad up on craigslist for someone to spend his snow days with that would be filled with cuddling, movies, alcohol, and potential makeouts or more.

It's a joke until someone responds.

and home before dark by verity | 3,175

The mystery of the absent Hale brother was hardly a mystery at all until he appeared at last, set on taking up residence out in the woods.

(In which Derek is a hedgewitch. With a cat.)

Let it snow! Let it snow! (but please let it stop eventually) by relenafanel | 19,123

Stiles grew up with his bedroom window overlooking Derek's bedroom, so when he returns home for the holidays he's surprised to find a stranger in his nerdy neighbour's bedroom.

Only, he's not much of a stranger.

It is Derek Hale, the guy who is going to be his new step brother, if the rumours are true.

Red Against the Snow by Ember | 34,219

Stiles is trapped for the holidays in the cabin of a strange man/hermit named Derek. A strangely friendly wolf befriends Stiles during his stay. It's up to the teenager to find out why Derek has secluded himself from society, what the feelings he's beginning to have means, and what the connection between the mysterious man and the mysterious black wolf is.

an exaltation of larks by llassah | 25,370

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

The flamingo in the yard by Vendelin | 6,107

It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

(Fake) Winter Weather Brings Us Together by tylerfucklin (zimothy) | 10,535

So naked cuddling with Derek while suffering from hypothermia wasn't really on Stiles' to-do list for the week, but neither was that kiss--so who was Stiles to complain?

It's a Wild Pitch (But He's a Contact Hitter) by jettiebettie | 11,828

They're combating supernatural forces with blunt instruments now. Seems legit. As long as Stiles doesn't end up getting frostbite, he's willing to roll with it. Not that his friends have to worry about that. Fucking werewolves.

Abominable by Revenant | 20,277

Where Derek buys a secluded cabin halfway up a mountain, meets a yeti and falls in love with Stiles, but not necessarily in that order.

stilinski v. a. snowman | tumblr ficlet

This fic was inspired by this prompt: ‘we’re stuck in a log cabin overnight during a snowstorm bc of some stupid school team building exercise and it’s freEzing and I can’t sleep and you can hear me shivering in the next bed so you pick me up and dump in your bed and good grief you are hot in every sense of the word’ au