#this is so random it's just been in my head for days | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

withmyloveasyourgarden · 2 days ago

Text

TO BE DRUNK AND IN LOVE

EDDIE MUNSON X F!READER.

Nervous Eddie, protective reader, and a drunk love confession. Idiots who are too dumb to realise their feelings are reciprocated. 9.4K of tooth rotting friends to lovers fluff. [Re-uploaded from my old blog]

Even when it was Valentine's day it wasn’t all that surprising to open your door to a random knock and find Eddie Munson staring back at you.

He was your best friend after all.

What was surprising however, was to open your door at nearly midnight, bleary eyed and more than a little bit annoyed, to a sheepish looking Steve Harrington.

His usually perfect hair was in wild disarray from the winter winds still sweeping through Hawkins and there was a hesitant smile on his face, all boyish charm and sweetness, like he was already intent on persuading you to forgive him before you even knew why.

But then you had taken a closer look, letting the light from inside spill out onto the porch to reveal that Steve wasn’t alone. Appearing to be struggling with a rather drunk Eddie, arms straining, looped around the longer haired boy who instead of being on the ‘hot date’ he’d been rambling about having all week, was half asleep, swaying back and forth into his friend’s side.

"He called me to come get him but when I got there he wouldn’t stop asking for you.” Steve explained before you had the chance to ask, grumbling good naturedly. “Didn’t wanna drop him off home and risk him having the genius idea of trying to get here himself, s’that okay?”

You nodded in response, still a little confused but you couldn’t stop yourself from softening. Chest warming as you mumbled a quick ‘of course’ and tried to bite back the laugh that was threatening to bubble up at the way Eddie was trying to use Steve like some kind of pillow.

The wild mess of his curls spilling down to cover his face as his head fell to the other boy’s shoulder with a quiet groan, ringed fingers curling into the fabric of Steve’s jumper and voice rough as he grumbled your name again, again, again.

"Yeah, she's here, man." Steve chuckled, his tone surprisingly gentle, a fond type of exasperated as he nudged his shoulder into the rosy squish of Eddie's cheek. "You wanna wake up now so you can actually see her?"

To your surprise he actually listened.

His head snapping up quicker than you anticipated, curls bouncing with the movement and brown eyes a touch glazed over, just that little bit unfocused, before they locked on you and then his mouth split into a blinding grin. The kind that made his whole face light up and your heart flip all too wild behind your ribs.

"There’s my pretty girl." He cooed loudly and you heard Steve snort, something that sounded an awful lot like ‘very smooth Munson, jesus christ’ muttered under his breath whilst he fought to remain upright against the weight of Eddie leaning his entire body in your direction.

You did laugh then.

A bright, flustered thing that you were unable to resist any longer, along with the way your arms opened on reflex to wrap around the boy when he finally managed to break free of his friend’s hold. His hands batting furiously at Steve’s as he twisted away, and only stumbled slightly in his determination to swoop you up into hug that was all leather, cheap beer and the smoky bite of whiskey - weed and the spice of his shampoo where his hair tickled at your nose.

"Hey sweets.” He whispered, humming happily as he pushed a messy kiss to your hairline.

God, why did that make you want to melt.

“Hey Eddie, you okay?” You asked softly, one hand rubbing gentle circles on his back and the other reaching up to cradle the back of his head.

It made him snuggle into you further, ducking down so he could press his face into the warm crook of your neck as his arms tightened and you prayed he was too drunk to notice the way your pulse thrummed faster when he spoke, soft lips brushing against sensitive skin.

"‘Am now.”

Tou froze for just a second, lips parted, blinking once, twice, just to make sure you had really heard what you thought you had and when it did fully register you wondered if the heat radiating off your cheeks was as obvious as it felt.

A quick glance at Steve told you it was.

Your friend was looking at you and Eddie all huddled together with an endless amount of amusement and affection, eyes twinkling as he grinned, shining like there was something he knew that you didn’t.

"Okay then, that’s good I guess,” You croaked out, voice a little too affected for your liking, coughing slightly in attempt to cover the sudden shyness you felt before you told the other boy. “I better get him to bed before he falls asleep standing up.”

Steve chuckled at that. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” He added, snorting at the ‘hey, screw you Harrington, it was one time’ that sounded from the metalhead still needily curling himself around you. “You need a hand hauling his ass upstairs?”

You considered it but then the poor Steve was desperately trying to fight a vicious yawn and failing, his eyes tired despite the way they crinkled as he smiled when you gave him a mothering look and made a shooing motion with the hand that wasn’t still making gentle strokes down Eddie’s back.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him, go get some sleep, yeah? And thank you for bringing him.”

He hesitated but ultimately didn’t argue and you waved him goodbye as he drove away before shutting the door. Turning your full attention to your best friend who had slowly become suspiciously heavier, arms loosely folded around your waist and hands still, where only moments before they’d been trailing patterns along your spine.

"Eddie?”

Nothing.

“Eds?” You tried again and when there was no response a second time your eyes narrowed, suspicious.

The boy remained limp as your hands snuck past denim and leather, his breathing light and even whilst your fingers crept up his vest covered sides until you met torn fabric and then smooth, warm skin.

You let them rest there just a moment, waiting, and when he made no move to give up the pretence of sleep that you suspected, you dug them in a little firmer, tickling across his ribs until you heard a choked laugh and felt the stretch of his grin against your neck.

"Just let me sleep here, m’comfy.” He whined when you took to the task with more enthusiasm, snickering as he protested. But he was still laughing as he jerked and thrashed, dramatic as ever, and then threw himself out of your arms, cheeks flushed with it and dimples showing despite the glare he attempted to pin you with, snapping. “Fuckin’ devil woman, give me peace.”

There was no heat behind it and you smiled sweetly in return,reaching over to poke him in the cheek before pointing in the direction of the staircase. “I’ll give you peace Munson when you get your ass upstairs so we can go to bed.”

He raised his brows at the demand, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Are you trying to seduce me sweetheart? Do I need to call Steve to come back and protect my virtue, save my poor innocent soul from being snatched by a temptress?” Eddie asked playfully, all faux horror and scandalised expression, a hand pressed to his heart as he choked down a bark of laughter at the way you stared at him, incredulous.

"Jesus christ.”

"No, I’m Eddie, remember? If you’re tryin’ to seduce a man at least get his name right, babe.”

You threw your arms up in the air, let out a long-suffering groan whilst the boy cackled and then you were marching towards him, fingers twisting in denim as you shoved him in front of you and walked him in the direction of the stairs and to your room.

"Shit, okay, I’m going.” He yelped, sniggering when he heard you grumbling behind him as he deliberately leaned his full weight back into the press of your hand and tsked, voice full of tease. “So fuckin’ pushy, you're lucky the whole bossy thing works on me.”

There was a familiar routine to the way you entered your bedroom, the kind that developed after countless nights of Eddie deciding it was too late to drive home despite the journey only being five minutes, of you both refusing to let the other take the couch that very first time until you eventually agreed, with shy smiles and faux nonchalant shrugs, that it was no big deal if you just shared the bed.

Friends totally did that, right?

It happened enough that he claimed a side and a drawer, that tapes and other trinkets of his littered the tops of your dressers, mixing with yours, and you’d even bought an ashtray and a spare lighter especially for the bedside table on his side.

And it happened enough for it to be second nature for Eddie to veer left and you right, clumsily kicking his shoes off before he fell into the bed with a contended groan and turning just time in to catch the old, faded sweats he left the last time he stayed that you threw before they could slap him in the face.

"You smell like a brewery Eds, don’t even think of getting in that bed until you’ve changed.”

"Mean.” He groaned but he hauled himself back up and did as you asked, shrugging off denim and leather in one go until all he was left in was tight, black jeans and a slashed up vest that showed more tattoos and bare skin than it possibly hid. His silver chain glinting prettily where it lay against his collarbones.

And oh fuck, you were staring.

Despite the fear that prickled at your skin at the thought of being caught, it felt impossible not to.

Because Eddie had always been far too pretty, a heartbreaking kind of gorgeous really, and if that wasn’t distracting enough, then the way his muscles moved as he yanked the vest over his head before dropping his hands to his belt certainly was.

You swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry when you realised your eyes had followed, fixed on the flex of his hands, and you couldn’t stop from wondering if they’d look just as perfect dragging up your bare waist, gripping at your thighs. Maybe circling your neck, cupping your chin, rings glittering in the low lamplight, before his lips descended on yours.

Jesus.

You wrenched your gaze away, fully intending it to land somewhere more decent. Somewhere that wasn’t your best friend and where it couldn’t ruin that easy bond you’d always had with the boy by giving all your secrets away.

But it felt like there was some kind of higher power at play, some hand of fate kind of bullshit that brought it straight back to Eddie, to his eyes that were already watching you, darker than usual and more than a little wild.

It made your breath catch in your chest. Cheeks flaming with heat, heart slamming against your ribs hard enough you thought your bones might shatter, and god, could he hear it?

You already knew by the look on his face that Eddie had seen every single second of your staring, that he’d been able to guess every little thought that swam through your mind and revealed themselves in the brief flash of want in your expression before you could shove it back down.

You just hadn’t noticed him doing the same.

Gaze lingering on his shirt that you were wrapped up in, the way the hem was as long as the length of your sleep shorts and made it seem like you were wearing nothing else, the way it made you look too soft, too enticing, too much like you were his and when his eyes flicked back up to yours he looked at you like you were something dangerous.

Like you were making him want something he shouldn’t ask for, or at least, didn’t think he could.

You licked your lips, a nervous sweep of your tongue as the air in the room seemed to thicken, and his gaze followed the movement hungrily as if he wished it was his mouth sliding over them instead.

But then the wind was howling, branches smacking and scraping at your window, the sound bringing reality crashing back in and making you both flinch.

Eddie’s cheeks were pink and his lips parted, a strangled noise slipping past them as he tried to speak and stumbled and suddenly you couldn’t look at him. Eyes snapping shut and mortification burning in your throat as you spun round before you could make an even bigger mistake than you already had, because what the hell were you doing?

What were you thinking?

This was Eddie.

Eddie, who you swore to never let your feelings for ruin your friendship.

Eddie, who you were convinced was still very much drunk and you very much weren’t.

It felt wrong.

It felt like you were begging to have your feelings hurt when the boy became clear headed enough to realise that the person he was looking at like he wanted to push them down onto the bed and devour, happened to be his best friend and inevitably freaked the fuck out.

He had just come back from a date with someone else after all, a date that he would have never thought to ask you on and despite the fact that you suspected it must not have gone well given his current state, it didn’t really make you feel any better or lessen the sting of jealousy that felt like barbed wire snaking through your ribs.

You continued to face the wall as he changed, cheeks still burning, stained with heat. But your gaze was unfocused as it flickered over lines of polaroids, fairy lights and old ticket stubs that you’d refused to throw away and used as decoration, your mind far too aware of the sound of his belt being unbuckled, the chains on his jeans clinking quietly before the denim hit the floor with a soft thud.

The silence that spread through the room after felt overwhelming, like it amplified every little movement either one of you made, the breaths you both took that made your chests fall a little too quick, a little uneven still, and when Eddie finally cleared his throat you tensed at the way it broke the quiet so harshly it felt like he’d made the noise directly in your ear.

"It’s okay - if you wanna turn around now, I mean.” He muttered softly.

It still felt like too much to look at him.

Maybe even more now because all you could see out of the corner of your eye before you walked towards the little lamp on your desk was messy hair and bare skin, sweats slung low on his hips. Big, brown eyes that seemed to be pleading with you to meet their stare and melt back into your usual softness with him like nothing had happened.

You couldn’t.

Not yet.

So you flicked the light off whilst the boy sighed and slipped beneath the covers, shoving his face into a pillow that smelled faintly like you as he squeezed his eyes shut before they flashed open again when he heard your approaching footsteps.

Eddie swallowed as you drifted close, throat bobbing when the air between you seemed to hum again once there was less of it as you reached above him to draw the curtains tighter, knowing how much the boy hated any hint of sunlight first thing in the morning.

There were nerves all lit up inside him that he hadn’t been able to shake all night, fondness fizzing in his chest when he heard the sound of the unopened bottle of water you’d brought up for yourself being set down next to the pile of his rings. The rattle of painkillers being plucked from the draw following before you moved around the bed and pulled back the sheets to climb in beside him.

He couldn’t help but hate what felt like an ocean of cool sheets that you deliberately left between you.

Hated that you didn’t push into his side and press your legs to his to steal his heat like you usually did, hated the way you lay stiff with tension in your own bed, facing the ceiling he had helped you paint one summer instead of facing him like you would when you would whisper with him, nose to nose, until the sun came up.

And when you did finally turn, a soft frown on your face as you wriggled to find a more comfortable position, he hated that your eyes widened slightly with panic when you finally noticed he was watching you.

It made his brows pull together in a distressed frown - his throat tight with guilt when you quickly glanced down at your hands that were knotting in the bed sheets.

An anxious habit he despised being the cause of because god, the last thing Eddie had ever wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable because he couldn’t keep his own feelings in check.

For the longest time he looked at you like he wanted to say something, working his jaw like he wanted to address what had happened and apologise but couldn’t find the right words, his eyes soft and sad in the pale slip of moonlight from the window.

And then he seemed to think better of it.

You were caught off guard when he smiled instead. A soft grin that was all easy warmth and a touch playful as he reached to poke a finger to your cheek and whispered, “thanks for taking care of me, sweets.”

You huffed out a laugh like you couldn't help yourself and the boy took it as small progress when you visibly relaxed. Taking the opportunity to get more and more dramatic with his prodding and tickling until he could feel the way your body vibrated with the giggles bubbling up from your chest and you’d allowed yourself to sink fully into the bed, rolling closer as you tried to fend him off.

"Someone has to make sure you’ll be alive enough to take us for breakfast in the morning.” You whispered back sternly when your face re-emerged from its hiding place in the mattress.

But your smile was matching Eddie’s, growing wider when he caught the hand you tried to bat his away with and gently pinched at your fingers.

"So you’re only being nice so you can use me.” He gasped theatrically and propped himself up on an elbow to stare down at you, all over the top stricken expression as he stifled a laugh when you shoved your face into the pillow and groaned. “How could my best friend betray me like this?”

You turned your head back to face him, rolling your eyes before levelling him with a thoughtful stare. “I wouldn’t call it using,” you mused, slipping your arm under your pillow and beneath your head as you yawned, “more like cashing in straight away on a debt, y’know, since you woke me up in the middle of the night. Which, as my best friend, you’ll remember makes me very grumpy in the morning.”

Eddie nodded, bangs falling into his eyes as he did so. He was serious for all of a second before he let himself fall back into the mused sheet with a guilty grin, hair spilling everywhere and the movement making your body lean into the dip he created, suddenly closer to the boy than before.

"Touche.”

The word came out in a small huff that you felt it against your cheek, a soft thing that made your lashes flutter and when you glanced up at him you found him looking at you with gentle eyes, all brown sugar sweet and lovely as he smiled, full of affection.

It made the last of the left-over tension fizzle away, turning the air softer, warmer, as Eddie drew lines along your fingers with his own before he slotted them together.

You hadn’t even realised he was still holding your hand.

"You win, babe,” He murmured, almost too quiet to hear, his thumb rubbing slow against your skin, touch worshipful as he traced the faint scar on your hand that was proof monsters were never simply just part of stories, and if he noticed the way you inhaled a little shakily, well, he did his best not to show it.

“I’ll do anything you want, maybe take you to that bakery you like and buy you coffee so you’ll stop hissing at me and then so many of those cinnamon things that like that you’ll go into a sugar coma and I’ll have to carry you out.”

You snorted and Eddie beamed like he’d hit the jackpot, encouraged by the sound as he arched a brow like he was begging you to argue.

"Idon’t hiss.” You muttered petulantly, full of false indignation whilst you scrunched your nose to hide your grin and knocked your knee against his.

His gaze shone at you, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth in the dark, and when he managed to fend off your attack by hooking a leg over yours to trap it between his own, he continued with a teasing scoff.

“You do. You’re like some kind of rabid raccoon when you wake up, I’m lucky I still have both eyes and all my fingers.” He wiggled the ones resting snug around yours for emphasis and you snorted. “Now shut up, I’m trying to impress you with my plan to get back in your good graces.”

You huffed, too amused to be offended, and gestured with your linked hands as if to say ‘well go on then’

Okay, so after I’ve carried you out of the bakery, we’d go to the bookstore,” the boy told you, gaze knowing and smile a little smug when he noticed that he’d caught your attention despite the way you tried to hide it from him.

"Always a pretty foolproof plan - which one though?”

“Not the fancy one where the housewives hog the couches pretending to talk about their weekly book club read,” Eddie assured you, his voice dropping to a scandalised hush, the fingers that weren’t holding yours tugging at his curls to hide a salacious grin as he whispered, “when instead they’re bitching about how their husbands don’t satisfy them anymore and how they’ve had to resort to fucking the pool boy so they can feel young again.”

"Of course,” You choked on a laugh, a startled, delighted sound that made Eddie’s heart stutter and his chest ache with warmth. “Can’t have them cheapening the wholesome moment when I’m overcome with the joy of being surrounded by books and finally forgive you.”

"Exactly.” He replied sagely. “So we’re gonna go to that one near Oak instead with the shit ton of stacks everywhere that threaten to fall and crush you if you breathe near them. Works better in my favour if I get to save you from a gruesome death.”

You nodded, only looking half as serious as Eddie thanks to the way you could barely stop the threat of giggles rising in your throat. “I get it, totally get extra brownie points for a hero moment.”

"Right? And then maybe I’ll get you one of the books you stare at all longingly everytime we go in 'cause for some reason you act like it’s a fuckin’ crime to treat yourself once in a while-”

"-I do not! I just have other things that kind of have to take priority, y’know like bills and stuff. ”

"Same thing.” Eddie dismissed, but his voice was softly teasing and his gaze understanding as he fingers tapped a random beat against your hand. “Anyway, after that we’ll rent some movies and get some snacks, maybe horrors so I can be all charming and let you hold my hand when it gets scary, we’ll get pizza for dinner and by the end of it you’ll have totally forgot that I crashed your romantic night with yourself and ruined your sleep.”

You stared at him. “And that’s all it’s gonna take, huh?”

"Don’t pretend you’re not impressed, sweetheart.” He grinned knowingly, looking too proud of himself as his hand slipped out of yours to prod a finger to where your cheeks were appled, aching from smiling far too long.

He wished he could kiss them instead, brush his lips over the pretty flush that bloomed after his touch made you realise you never really had stopped smiling from the moment he started speaking. “Look at you, just dyin’ to forgive me right now, I can tell.”

You hated that he was right.

Not about you dying to forgive him now, because the truth was Eddie hadn’t actually done anything to need forgiveness, no, it was the fact that if you were ever genuinely mad and the boy did all that for you, you knew in your bones you would fold in a pathetic, lovesick heartbeat.

It was the fact that Eddie knew it too, he just hadn’t figured out why.

Yet.

So you swatted at him once again and tried to discreetly shuffle back whilst he was distracted threatening to snap his teeth down on your fingers.

You were praying for some distance, needed it so you could breathe without the scent of him making you feel weak, so you could hide in the dark for the moment it would take to stop looking at him like he’d shoved his hand inside your chest, wrapped long fingers around your heart and slipped it out to put it where it belonged. With him.

But your legs were still tangled with Eddie’s and your body was against you when he clamped his legs down to stop you from slipping away. Turned traitor by the feel of soft fleece pressing to your bare calves, the muscles of his arms flexing when he threw one over your waist and pushed the other one beneath you to roll you on top of him.

His biceps were warm where you caught at him with your hands to steady yourself and as he shifted a little higher up the pillow, stretching until he found himself comfortable, you cursed the warmth it spread through your belly.

"See, you can’t even deny it can you?” Eddie prompted and you felt it rumble from his chest to your own, chin dipped to peer down at you and cheeks dimpling as his grin turned smug. Unbelievably delighted that you had yet to refute him.

You wrinkled your nose when he tapped a finger there, if only to hide the shock that lingered on your face, the way you felt flushed all over because there was no part of you that wasn’t touching him and jesus christ, it felt like his hands resting on your sides were burning through the thin material of your shirt, threatening to brand the skin beneath.

“What, no– I mean yes– I mean, shit, you know what I mean asshole” You finished with a scowl and prayed your rambling had sounded less frantic to Eddie than it had to your own ears, though judging by the way he arched a brow at you, gaze dancing with withheld laughter, you would guess you had failed there too.

'Uh huh, but feel free to keep tryin’ to enlighten me anyway.”

"I was just wondering,” you began, all false confidence just to hide the fact you were still unsure of where you were going with it. Stalling just a little because it was hard to remember what you had been wondering before he had decided to use you as a blanket, your chest now lying atop his abdomen, stomach resting against his hips and legs cradled between his own.

You let go of his arms to fold your hands at the centre of his chest, settling your chin there, and his eyes softened as they roamed your face, waiting for you to continue. “Okay, so how does it make sense that you can pull off something like that and yet you’re here with me, drunk, instead of on your date swooning the hell out of Sarah?”

"Sam.”

“Same thing.”

“Not even close, sweetheart.”

“At least I got the first two letters right, unlike you with the last guy I dated.” You shot back.

Eddie shrugged. “He looked like a Danny.” He defended mildly but his gaze was playful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth to hold back the laugh threatening to escape when you threw a death glare his way.

“His name was Matthew.” You deadpanned and the boy snorted, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture when it looked like you might rip the pillow from beneath his head and smother him with it.

But then you were shaking your head instead, an accusatory finger jabbed to his chest and you rolled your eyes when he frowned and muttered a petulant ‘ow’.

“Hang on, why are we even arguing this again? Answer the question Munson - did you try to take her to skull rock again? ‘Cause I don’t give a damn what Steve says, just because you take a fucking picnic it doesn’t suddenly make a make out spot romantic”

He made a disturbed noise and shook his head but you didn’t miss the way his face fell a little at you bringing up the date again, smile half-hearted at best, and even the dark couldn’t hide the way his eyes had dimmed. His thumbs that had been dragging small, steady circles over the sides of your ribs faltering as he dropped his gaze from yours.

It made you gentle - the sense of protectiveness that tightened your chest and urged you to shuffle your way up his body until you were seated in his lap, knees dragging the sheets askew. Fingers finding their way to his chin to bring his stare back to you and you were too focused on your worry to register the way it made his lashes flutter, eyes hooded and lips parted, breath hitching at the gesture.

"Hey - did something happen tonight? Is that why you came back in such a state?” You murmured, eyes flicking between his, searching, before your tone suddenly grew sharp and your hand fell flat against his chest. “Was she a dick to you - I swear to god if she was I’ll get dressed right now and–”

You were cut off by Eddie’s hand descending over yours, the other landing on the thigh that you had already raised to clamber off him, squeezing the flesh softly, drawing it back down, and the fight left you just as fast as it had appeared when he chuckled, his voice smudged with fondness, awe, a hint of pride.

“Okay, reign it in Rocky, nothin’ bad happened I promise, you don’t need to go runnin’ off into the night to defend my honour.”

But god, he wanted to kiss you for trying to.

He settled for watching you watch him instead, your frown of concern that he itched to smooth away with his thumb still present before you eventually nodded, only slightly pacified when you had found no sign of a lie in the way he met your gaze.

And Eddie knew it was foolish to hope that was the end of it, knew the expression on your face all too well despite the way it flickered sweet just for a moment, just for him, as he released your hand to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

So it came as no surprise to the boy when you seemed to be considering your next words as you tilted your head, whether to deliberately lean into his touch or just a habit whilst you thought he wasn’t sure.

Maybe it was coincidence or maybe it was both, either way when your hand followed his seconds after he had let it go to clasp gently at his wrist, his heart spasmed despite knowing what was coming.

"There was something though, wasn’t there? You stated but you were quiet in how you spoke, gentle, trying to make sure Eddie knew he wasn’t being pushed, that you were only concerned, and everything about it made him ache. His thoughts going a cotton-wool kind of hazy that he wasn’t convinced he could blame on the alcohol anymore.

He let his thumb brush the downturned corner of your lips, a brief second of indulgence before he pressed up, moulding your mouth into a smile until he spied it becoming a real one, the kind that would have had Eddie dropping to his knees if he’d been standing, as you knocked his hand away.

He tapped at your legs then, drumming lightly at the creases of your knees and up the backs of your thighs, making you twitch.

You got the hint though, rising off him just enough for him to push himself up and then back, leaning against the pillows before he held out his hands for you to take so you could climb back into his lap.

It felt like his first mistake.

Or was it his second, after coming here in the first place? Third, after losing his head and nearly kissing you?

He’d lost count.

All he knew was that it was suddenly a little harder to breathe, that being this close didn’t feel as innocent as it had five minutes ago.

As it had all the other times you’d been tucked tight against him, sleepily whispering secrets until dawn broke and your head fell heavy against his shoulder, leaving Eddie to have to carefully roll you back on to the mattress so you didn’t wake up stiff and sore.

Your hands were soft on his stomach, forcing the boy to fight off a shudder every time you traced the dark lines of another tattoo, jaw slack as he watched every little movement of your fingers with rapt attention, only realising he’d been repeating each one with his own touch on your thighs when he felt the brush of soft fabric against his fingertips.

It took Eddie a second to tear his eyes away from the sight, to meet your gaze with pink cheeks and lips almost bitten raw and find that you had swayed closer.

Close enough so that he could map each little freckle that made up constellations on your cheeks in the moonlight that slanted over your features, noses only inches apart and he swallowed down a choked curse when he remembered you were probably still expecting an answer.

He licked his lips, unsure of how much he could give away, and shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. "S’really nothin’ for you to worry about princess, the date was fine and she was… great - incredible actually - we just, uh, mutually decided there was a point in taking it past a one time thing.”

The silence stretched long enough that Eddie wondered if he was maybe more wasted than he'd thought. He must have been if the question of whether telling you the truth was really as bad as he'd feared was nudging at his brain, the consequences seeming a lot less daunting the longer allowed himself to consider it.

Because there you were, looking at him with the prettiest confused expression he'd ever seen and all of a sudden it felt like the worst crime in the world to lie to you. That you deserved more than the way he'd been continuously lying to you for years and if there was the slightest chance - which sometimes he thought there were signs there could be - that you wanted him to be the one who gave you more, then he had to take it, right?

"I don't understand,” you said slowly, face scrunched like you were trying to figure out if you missed something somewhere in his explanation, like you were trying to hide how the boy calling Sarah - Sam - whatever her name was - incredible in a dazed voice had made your stomach twist. "If she was so amazing and the date was a hit, why wouldn't you want to see her again?"

"Well turns out no matter how awesome a girl is, she doesn't really wanna waste time trying to date someone who's in love with someone else.”

"Makes sense-" you shrugged, and then it sunk in what he had said. "-no, wait, hang on - what?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, a little shaky, a little rough, and despite the easy grin he tried to offer, there was an undeniable bloom of nervousness unfurling in his eyes, “crazy right? I mean I expected her to leave when she figured it out but then she stayed and even tried giving me advice, which maybe me taking wasn't the best decision 'cause it involved some liquid courage and telling the girl how I feel but I kinda took the first part too far, which is how I ended up like this– ”

He gestured wildly to himself and when his hands dropped back to rest on your bare thighs it took all you had not to flinch. Your brain felt fuzzy, chest too tight, and suddenly every part of your body that was pressed to his felt like it was in agony. A new kind of torture.

Eddie was in love with someone else.

And he hadn't even told you.

"Eddie–” you murmured weakly, because christ , he was still talking and you just really needed him to stop .

"-she originally offered to help make her jealous, which was fuckin' insane , I thought that shit only happened in movies. I gave it a hard pass cause it seemed sleazy, like a total dick move, y'know. Didn’t seem right to mess with her like that and I don't think I even could if my life depended on it-”

Fuck, this hurt worse than you had ever imagined. A dagger shoved deep between your ribs with every word, twisting until you thought you’d be sick with it.

'Eddie.” You repeated, only a little stronger this time. but to your horror, you could hear the painful edge that made your voice shake.

You wanted to slam a hand over his mouth.

You wanted to crawl as far away from his touch as you possibly could.

And yet you were painfully still.

A statue in Eddie’s lap, turned to stone like those poor souls you’d read about in a mythology book when you were a kid except here there was no terrifying creature to blame, just your best friend who was breaking your heart without even realising.

Oblivious to a tear that welled and spilled over your lash line, dripping onto the shirt that you were suddenly wishing wasn’t his as he pressed on.

God, you felt pathetic.

"Felt wrong just thinking about it,” He rushed out and maybe if you weren’t so upset you would have put it together. The way he was rambling like he couldn’t speak quick enough, like he would lose his nerve if he didn't, lungs burning and eyes darting over your face, anxious, as if his heart would give out if he looked away for even a second. Fingers tapping too quick on your thighs. “Touching someone, kissing them, loving them, even if it’s pretend, shit I can’t even remember the last time I thought of doin’ those kind of things with anyone else that wasn’t-”

“Wasn’t her,” You interrupted, head ducked to hide your embarrassment when the words slipped out scathing, a little more heated than you intended. The burn behind your eyes grew stronger as you tried to climb off him, numb fingers clumsy, grappling for purchase on his stomach so you could push yourself away. “I get it Eddie, fuck-”

He stopped you with hesitant hands wrapping around your wrists, squeezing soft when you didn’t immediately try to yank yourself out of his hold, drawing them to his chest in a plea for you to look at him and listen.

"-you.”

You froze, head snapping up to stare at the boy in disbelief, utterly stunned. Your heart spasming before it began to pound so hard you thought it would splinter bones as you tried to figure out if you had heard him right, if he had said what you thought he had, if you dared to ask him to repeat himself just in case he had.

It felt like the world had slowed for a moment, like it was trying to give you a chance to push past the rush of blood in your ears that was drowning your ability to think straight, to decide whether Eddie had misspoken or not and if he hadn't, did that mean it was finally time for you to stop hiding.

Did you even know how?

The answer came when the winds outside grew into a storm. The patpatpat of rain on the roof coming slowly at first and then all at once and each knock of a branch at your window sounded like the tick of a clock as the silence between you rolled on too long. It felt like a countdown, a warning that if you weren’t going to be brave now, you wouldn’t get the chance again.

So you fought the urge to rip yourself away, lowered yourself gingerly back down onto his thighs whilst Eddie watched you with wide eyes, a little hopeful, a little terrified, a little too aware that any wrong move could make you run for real next time. “Did you– what did you just say?”

"Wasn’t you.” He whispered and neither of you could take your eyes off the other, your own breath trapped in your chest as he took a deep breath before he continued. Voice growing braver like it was an obvious truth he was telling you and not one that felt like a bomb being dropped on your head. “I haven’t thought about anyone else since I realised I was in love with you.”

You inhaled sharply, a small noise slipping from your throat that you couldn’t stop if you tried.

You wanted to ask him to say it again, you wanted to kiss the words from his mouth as he said them, you wanted to say it back, murmur it over and over into him until you were dizzy from lack of oxygen but you couldn’t. Because there were tears in your eyes and your throat, your lungs, were refusing to work, every part of your body suddenly paralysed whilst your heart tumbled wild behind your ribs.

Eddie licked his lips, parted and closed them again as tried to organise the mess of his thoughts into words.

He sat up and pulled you closer until your hips were flush, your thighs caged around his as he gently ran his thumbs up over the soft part of your wrists where your pulse hammered against the skin and you wondered if it was a gesture meant to soothe you or him.

If it was maybe for both of you.

A way to encourage you to touch him in whatever way you needed whilst he did the same, preparing himself to give a confession that he never thought he would get a chance to, that he hoped you would understand.

"I only asked Sam out because I thought you were never gonna feel the same and I just needed to get over it, ” He sighed, cheeks pink as he nervously analysed your expression from beneath his lashes. “Turns out she knew all along, figured out I was gonner that night at the hideout when you made me sing fuckin’ Bon Jovi.”

He said it teasingly, all false betrayal and shining eyes like you’d made him commit the worst kind of crime, like he was so in love with you that he’d sing that fucking song until his throat was raw if you asked again.

You let out a watery laugh and Eddie beamed at the sound.

His gaze lovely as it roamed your face, endlessly adoring when you swiped at a falling tear with the heel of your palm and melted because the boy had caught your hand in his before you could drop it, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss away the salt on your skin with a sweet tsk, voice like honey as he murmured, ‘c’mon, pretty girl, please don’t cry’.

"I couldn’t even deny it when she brought it up, y’know,” he chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead to yours, noses grazing until you sighed happily for him. “She wasn’t mad either, just told me I needed to grow a pair and tell you how I felt before someone else did, but it was like she’d fuckin’ me in punched me in the face. All I could think was, ‘shit, she’s right, what the hell am I doing’ .”

And then his smile faltered. His stare flickering away from yours like he was ashamed, lips twisting into a grimace, voice strained as his hands slid down your arms and dropped to the hem of your shirt to twist the material in his fingers.

"Thing is, it sounded like the easiest thing in the world when she said it, but then I was about to leave and it suddenly felt terrifying and the idea of calming my nerves with a drink didn’t sound like the dumbest one I’ve ever had.” Eddie admitted, closing his eyes briefly and when he opened them again the disappointment in them made your heart ache.

“Not until I started hesitating the longer I was there anyway, overthinking and talking myself out of it, and then before I knew it I was wasted and I’d fucked up another chance to tell you. So I called Harrington instead, though I guess that kind of backfired too, huh?”

He was making it sound like it was all his fault that this had gone on so long but god, you knew what your own fear felt like. The things you told yourself daily to stop you from taking that plunge.

Had you both been using the same insecurities to hold yourselves back all this time?

"What were you so scared of? ” You coaxed softly, pressing a hand over the place where his heart thumped beneath the skin, fingertips toying with the chain that hung around his neck and when you’re other hand smoothed it’s way up to his jaw, thumb gliding along the edge of it, the boy leaned into your touch like he was starved for it. A ragged sigh slipping past his lips as his lashes fluttered.

"Messing everything up.” He explained quietly and the crack in his voice made you want to wrap your arms around him and smother him in affection. Refuse to let him go or ever doubt himself again. “Losing you. I didn’t know if you’d hate me for making things awkward if you didn’t feel the same and I couldn’t handle the thought of not having you in my life.”

"You could never do anything to make me not be in your life Eddie,” you told him, and if your words were soft then the look in your eyes was even softer. Lips pulling into a warm smile that he swore was pure light as your hand left his chest to tug teasingly at one of his curls. “Even if it’s something like turning up at my door, half gone, smelling like you’ve been dunked in whiskey, to tell me something that I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to hear from you.”

Eddie melted for you then.

“Yeah?” He breathed, his own grin blinding as his hands nudged their way beneath your shirt to curve around your bare sides, seeking out the warmth of you to ground himself because he could have sworn he was dreaming.

"Yeah.”

“Well shit, sweetheart,” he huffed out a soft laugh, a little giddy with relief, more drunk on you than whatever alcohol was left in his system. “If I’d known that I would have made Stevie boy haul my drunk ass over here a lot sooner. You have any idea how long I’ve had to suffer mourning about my feelings to him after one of his house parties for him to just tell me to shut the fuck up and go to sleep?”

Probably the same amount of time you’d endured Robin telling you to get a grip.

"No, but I’m sure Steve would gladly tell me if I asked,” you answered cheekily instead, letting out a terrible shriek of a laugh when the boy tickled your ribs and muttered that you better not dare.

It made him grin all stupid and lovesick, even more so when you bumped your nose against his and looked at him a little shy, a little hopeful as you asked, “Though maybe you could try voicing some of those feelings without the alcohol, y’know, just so I know they’re not a result of your brain being fried and so that when I say them back, you actually have a chance of remembering it in the morning.”

Eddie was enthusiastically nodding before you could finish, a brightness unfurling in his chest like the flowers that had snaked around his ribs when he met you were now opening up, blooming with what he felt for you. What you felt for him back. “Yeah, fuck, I can do that,” he murmured. “Anything you want.”

You were beaming, and if he could bottle the way it made him feel he would. Gone for the way you melted for him when he slipped a hand from beneath your shirt, dragging it slow up your spine until his palm was fitting itself around the back of your neck, just so he could feel you this close. Just because he could.

"Anything?” You repeated coyly, smiling when he sighed real pretty as you brushed some of his curls back.

“Anything.”

"You gonna take me on a date Munson?”

As if he was going to say no to you. Like he ever could.

He’d bring you the damn moon if you wanted it. The stars too because he wouldn’t be able to help himself when it came to you.

He pressed his nose to your cheek to hide the dopey grin that tugged at his lips, humming. “Mhm, how does tomorrow sound? Maybe upgrade our plans from grovelling duty to first date?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you pondered, eyes fluttering shut with a smile, content to tease the boy by pretending to think about it as you tilted your head back for him when he pushed his face into your neck with an amused huff. “I kind of liked the idea of you grovelling all day and the plans you made were pretty tempting. What will the upgrade entail if I agree?”

“Same plans, I’d just get to keep touching you like this, hold you whenever I wanted, whenever you wanted me to.” He murmured, lips catching at your skin as he spoke, the hand that was clamped around your waist tightening when you shivered as he drew a line with his nose up to your jaw. “Maybe walk around with my hand in your back pocket the way I know you think is real cute. Use it to pull you in for a kiss when you’re looking far too pretty to be real, which is fuckin’ always, and I feel like m’gonna die if I don’t.”

Your chest hitched, lips parted and body feeling a touch too warm, because the thought of Eddie kissing you all greedy, a little too desperate to give a damn about where you were or who was around, was suddenly so consuming. Leaving you dizzy enough that you had to clutch at his shoulders, his neck, curling your fingers around his chain to keep yourself seated instead of falling back into the cushions and pulling him down with you. “Oh.” You breathed out.

He swallowed, hard.

And when he lifted his head his eyes were half-lidded, almost black beneath the heavy fan of his lashes, voice a low rasp that made you burn as his gaze flickered from your mouth to settle on yours. “Yeah, oh. ”

"How am I supposed to say no to that?”

His lips twitched. “Now you know how it feels when you ask me for anything.” He whispered hoarsely and you wondered if he could hear the chaotic hammering of your heart, if he could feel the vibration of it slamming into your ribs against his own.

The air between you was buzzing, electric, bloated with anticipation when the last couple of inches fell away as his face leaned closer to yours, mouth hovering over your own. his breath warm and smelling of smoke and whiskey, a hint of mint as he said your name, sticky sweet with heat and a longing kind of need.

He drew lazy circles under your ear with his thumb and it took everything you had not to let the pleading noise building in your throat escape.

"Yeah, Eddie?” You asked instead, so quiet that had he not been right there, you doubt he would have heard you at all.

You knew he had though when his tongue darted out to wet his lips, a nervous gesture just like the way your fingers couldn’t stop their movements, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck and making him shudder.

"Can I kiss you now?”

It already felt like he was.

His mouth brushing yours as he spoke, each word the ghost of a kiss, a brief taste of the real thing that you were sure would shatter you entirely because jesus christ, this alone was making you feel like there were fireworks beneath your skin. The way your bottom lip caught between his stole your breath, a cracked noise bubbling up in your throat that Eddie inhaled and echoed back with a groan when you tilted your head and pushed your lips to his.

It was a fleeting thing, ending after a second because your brain had caught up and was telling you this wasn’t right. Not that kissing Eddie wasn’t right, it felt like the most natural thing you’d ever done, like you’d found a piece of yourself you hadn’t realised you were missing.

It was just the timing.

“Wait…” You murmured and Eddie drew back immediately, the hand that had been clasped around your neck pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear, cupping your jaw as his worried gaze flicked over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort he might have caused.

"Shit, I’m sorry.” He said gently, thick with guilt, full of concern. “Was it too soon? I swear I didn’t mean to pressure you or anything, fuck, sweetheart, I’d never do anything to make you feel uncomfortable y’know that right? And if I do by accident I want you to tell me or hell, punch me or something- ”

“-No, no, it’s okay Eds - Eddie listen, I’m not gonna hit you, jesus - I just,” You couldn’t get the words out fast enough for the way the look on his face was making your chest squeeze. Your hands flew to his face as you shook your head, stroking your thumbs over the arc of his cheekbones to quiet him whilst you gave him a reassuring smile. “I just don’t want our first real kiss to be when one of us is drunk, that's all. Is that okay?”

He blew out a breath, visibly softening, and then he was wrapping his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your nose, your cheeks, your forehead until you were both grinning, laughter still echoing above the sounds of the storm outside when he touched his forehead to yours. “Baby, of course it’s okay,” he murmured, “you just say the word, I’ll kiss you whenever you want me too.”

His words lit you up, warmth spreading through you until you were giddy with it. So full of affection for the boy that you thought you’d burst and it must have been contagious because Eddie was looking at you like he knew exactly what you were feeling.

"Kiss me tomorrow?” You whispered, unable to bite back your grin as you brushed your nose against his. “When I first wake up so I don’t think I’ve dreamed this whole thing?”

Eddie’s eyes shone and he squeezed you a little tighter, his smile becoming devastatingly lovely, stretching wide across his face as he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.”

And he did.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

353 notes · View notes

xxsquiddkiddxx · 2 days ago

Text

Viktor x Reader Headcanons

Pronouns for reader: Gender neutral, AFAB undertones if you squint

Relationship type: Platonic to Romantic

General Idea: Some silly little headcanons I have for Viktor because he's still my silly little princess. Even after the whole glorious evolution thing.

Content Warnings: S1 Viktor, no S2 spoilers, But there as little bit of s2 viktor's mindset, I'm projecting a little bit (a lot) but it's fine.

~☆~

I honestly see Viktor as asexual with light aromantic undertones (kinda like demiromantic, I guess??). He rarely ever developes romantic feelings. Like its a once in a blue moon thing.

Like... he has to know you for YEARS before something in his head is like "Oh... hey they kinda cute?"

However, when he DOES develop feelings that go beyond friendship, Viktor HEAVILY struggles with coming to terms with them. Not in like a "I don't DO feelings" type way, but more in a "Well... no... it could be this" type of way.

Oh, his heart rate speeds up a little bit when you two accidently brush hands? It must just be his nerves.

When he does realize that he has feelings for someone, it's kind of like that scene in Gravity Falls where Dipper is like "It's not like I stay awake at night thinking about Wendy" and it cuts to him laying awake thinking about Wendy XD

If he likes someone romantically, he talks about them a lot. Like as if trying to bring them up as much as he can. Like "Oh (Y/N) mentioned something about that book, said they really liked it" Or "(Y/N) actually said something similar about that topic" If he could yap about you for hours, he probably would.

Even if you're being PAINFULLY obvious about your romantic feelings towards Viktor, he will firmly believe you're just being friendly.

Why he does it is a mix between two things: one is that he's just not awesome with people. And second is that he firmly believes someone like you could never love someone like him back.

One night, Viktor had been constantly working without break, so you practically dragged him to his room by his ear and forced him to get some rest.

Viktor has a strong habit of having his workspace FILLED with old mugs, sometimes days old. He doesn't really mean to, just too wrapped up in Hextech to really notice.

He also struggles with meals too. Just like above, because he literally just gets too wrapped up in his work.

If Viktor actually confesses feelings, it's such an interesting experience. Because he doesn't just flat out say "Hey I have feelings for you". He stumbles over his words and rambles about something random in the middle of it. So you gotta help him out a little bit.

Viktor's love language is quality time. He'll make sure his seat is next to you when it can, he always yaps about what he's uncovered about Hextech.

Speaking of Hextech, if you just sit there and watch him work? He'd about die of happiness on the spot. If you, someone he really loved, took an interest to something he truly loved DOING? Perfect.

He used to get really flustered about physical affection. Like you held his hand one time and he about combusted. He was red in the face for hours. He got better with it overtime, of course. But for the first few months, he was pretty much bright red the whole time.

Dates are rare, neither of you have the time for it. But when you two do have dates of some kind, they're mostly stay at home type things.

You know that thing kids do? Like playing their own separate things together? Parallel play, I think it's called? Yeah you two do that a lot.

Viktor will be reading some papers and you'll be reading a book, your feet in his lap.

Speaking of, Viktor is such a reader omg He doesn't read a lot anymore due to his constant workload, but when he does, he reads a lot of like... old books. The ones with yellowing pages and smell nice? Yeah... those ones!

If you two slept in the same bed, he'd be all like... giggly and nervous the first few times. Just like affection, he'd get used to it. But it's still cute.

When you two are cuddling, run your fingers in his hair. He'll melt right into you regardless of the situation. It's like an instant relax button for him.

Him laying his head on your chest, and you running your fingers through his hair? Something about it just... works. It calms him down a lot and makes him feel at peace.

His favorite place to kiss is the crook of your neck. Especially if you're around his height (he's like... between 5'7 and 5'10. I don't remember exactly).

Or your temples. It's simple, it doesn't attract a lot of attention. And let's be real, it's underrated as hell.

He's not big on PDA, but he'll hold your hand in public. He likes holding onto just one of your fingers, like your pinkie or something like that. It, just like temple kisses, is simple and discreet.

He doesn't often say "I love you". He feels bad about it, but you don't mind. He often says I love you without saying it. Things like holding you while you sleep, kissing your forehead as you two read in each other's arms, weaving your fingers with his while he works.

He gets self-conscious a lot. He thinks you could do a lot better than him and that he's not perfect.

Please kiss this poor boy all over and tell him he's perfect as is 😭😭

~☆~

A/N:The Arcane brainrot has gotten to me... This is how I'm coping with the finale. But I've wanted to write Viktor or Sevika stuff for a HOT minute now. I've been in the Arcane fandom for YEARS (a fanfic writer even longer) but this is my first Arcane fic... wild XD

For more fics: my masterlist!

~Squeed

#hyperfixation #fanfic #fanfiction #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane #arcane league of legends #viktor x you #viktor fluff #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #viktor fanfic #headcanons #arcane headcanon #viktor headcanons

196 notes · View notes

alxtiny · 2 days ago

Text

New hair? | Jung Wooyoung x reader

Synopsis: where your brother’s best friend ends up becoming something more

Pairing: jung wooyoung x san’s sister!reader, brother’s best friend au

Genre: fluff

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: none :)

Notes: Hah I’m on time today hehehehehehe, Happiest Birthday to our Wooyoungie :D

Main masterlist | Be a part of my taglist!

The apartment was unusually loud today, not that you minded. Ateez had just wrapped up their comeback promotions, and the guys were taking a much needed break. Your brother, San, decided to come stay with you for the duration since your place was conveniently close to the dorms and the company building yet far enough from their everyday chaos. San’s presence was always welcome, there was still a room reserved for your dear brother with several of his favourite things in it, but along with him usually came a headache named Wooyoung. Now it wasn't that you hated Wooyoung or anything, you just happened to like him a little too much.

Your feelings for him had been quietly brewing for six long years—since his trainee days when he practically lived at your house, sticking to San like glue. Back then, you were awkward, caught in your teen phase, and Wooyoung had always treated you with an equal amount of affection as he gave San. You never minded those random hugs he gave you or the way he made himself comfortable with his head resting on your lap on movie nights, until one day. After their first comeback, Wooyoung had started looking a little too good and you found your heart beating a little faster than it usually did. Of course you always assumed he thought of you as a little sister and never made a move, not wanting to lose what you already had.

San, being the annoyingly perceptive brother he was, already figured out your not-so-little crush on his best friend years ago when he caught you gushing over Wooyoung’s fancams. He never pressured you to confess, but he wasn’t subtle in his approval either.

Now, Wooyoung was here, lounging comfortably on your couch, and you had to tread very carefully around him, trying to make sure you wouldn’t make any awkward mistakes.

But it seems fate didn’t like it that way. It was a good day, you had an off from work and San was preoccupied since all the other boys had come over too and had taken over your living room, it was a ‘sleepover’ as San claimed it to be. It was also Wooyoung’s birthday, the boys having partied hard the day before, chose to relax today. You realised your apartment somehow always ended up being the hotspot for these sleepovers, even though it wasn’t all that big, but you enjoyed nonetheless, all the guys were super nice to you, even if they occasionally flirted with you. At those times, usually san or wooyoung would come to your rescue.

You were tasked with making a huge lot of ramen, while the guys were engaged in an intense round of whatever video game they were on now, they had ordered fried chicken and some other side dishes to go with it as well. You slowly stirred the ramen, the scent of the broth filling the kitchen, lost in your thoughts, “Need help?” San’s voice startled you as he appeared beside you with Yeosang.

“Perfect timing,” you replied, handing them trays of bowls. Together, the three of you distributed the nine bowls of ramen in the living room, joining the rest of the group as the fried chicken delivery arrived.

Your favourite movie was put on, Howlks Moving Castle, the boys were sprawled across your couch and floor, plates and bowls in hand. You found yourself nestled very comfortably between San and Wooyoung under a large, fluffy blanket. The cozy warmth from their bodies threatened to lull you to sleep.

Halfway through the movie, a yelp startled you.

“Ow, hot, hot!” Wooyoung exclaimed, jolting upright. He had spilled some of the soup from his ramen onto his shirt, the stain spreading rapidly across the light blue fabric.

“Careful!” you fussed, setting his bowl aside and helping him fan the hot liquid off his skin. The movie was paused as everyone shuffled around, but you were already pulling Wooyoung toward San’s room.

Inside San’s room, you rummaged through the closet for a clean shirt.

“You cut your hair? It looks different,” Wooyoung asked suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “I did. Is it… not good?”

“What? No way!” he said, sounding almost offended. “You look even more beautiful, sweetheart.”

Your cheeks warmed at the nickname. “Oh… thanks,” you murmured, tucking a strand behind your ear.

Wooyoung smirked, leaning casually against the doorway as you handed him a shirt. “Thanks,” he said. But before you could leave to give him privacy, he pulled his soiled shirt off, revealing his toned chest.

You froze, trying not to let your eyes wander, as your face grew hot. “Uh—I’ll just—”

“Why so shy?” he teased, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“I’m not shy!” you shot back, spinning around to face the wall.

He chuckled, and you felt his presence behind you. “Do I fluster you, sweetheart?” His voice dropped an octave, sending shivers down your spine.

You turned back, heart pounding as you found him standing closer than expected. His face was awfully close to yours, eyes gleaming with mischief and if you wanted you could kiss him, which is exactly what you did. You pecked his cheek lightly, making Wooyoung blink in surprise, and you took the opportunity to make a run for the door.

Unfortunately for you, he was faster.

Wooyoung caught your wrist, spinning you around and pinning you gently against the door. One arm rested beside your head while the other slowly settled on your waist.

“Running away after that?” he murmured, his gaze softening.

Your breathing hitched. “Woo—”

“Let me talk first,” he interrupted, his thumb rubbing against your hip. “You’ve plagued my thoughts for so long now. I see your pictures online, looking all pretty in those cute little outfits of yours, and I can’t help but think how much better they’d look if I were beside you, and god every single time you mentioned some boyfriend, it made me so mad, that why didn’t I have you for myself yet. I didn’t say anything because you’re Sannie’s little sister, but…” He paused, exhaling deeply, he lifted a lock of your hair. “Now you’re teasing me again, looking so tempting with your new hair. I can’t hold it in anymore.”

Your heart was racing, you gulped at his confession and decided to do something crazy.

You grabbed his collar and kissed him. You almost pulled back, before he responded, his lips pressing back much more intensely, his hand on you waist pulling you closer to him and your arms going around his neck, as his kissed you with fervour. His tongue teased your bottom lip before you were forced to part for air.

You pulled away, your foreheads resting together, both of you flushed and breathless.

“Happy Birthday to me, I guess,” he laughed, “You’re full of surprises, always know how to drive me insane” he kissed you again, “So, can I call you mine now?”

“Yes,” you breathed, unable to stop smiling.

Before either of you could say more, a knock sounded at the door.

San poked his head in, his eyes narrowing as he took in your flushed faces and disheveled appearances. “Are you two okay? You’ve been gone for a while.”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Wooyoung answered quickly.

San scanned the room one more time before smirking. Slowly closing the door, he yelled back into the living room, “They’re totally together now!”

A chorus of cheers erupted from the rest of Ateez.

“About time!” Yunho hollered.

You and Wooyoung laughed, leaning into each other as you listened to the chaos outside. “They’ve known all along, haven’t they?” you asked.

“Probably,” Wooyoung replied with a fond smile. You just laughed, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist:

#ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reaction #ateez smut #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung smut #ateez fic

110 notes · View notes

caitified · 1 day ago

Note

Do a fic for when Kate discovered that her wife was pregnant and how she told everyone of the team, you could also talk about how was the pregnancy

baby

kate martin x reader

warnings: ivf and pregnancy! going back in time a bit for those who have read my other kate family stories.

kate’s hands trembled slightly as she held the test in front of her, her wide eyes darting between the little screen and your face. you couldn’t quite tell if the tears forming in her eyes were from joy, shock, or a mixture of both.

you had been waiting for her to get home from practice all day, your nerves building with each passing hour. the positive test had been sitting in your pocket, burning a hole through the fabric as you tried to focus on anything other than the massive news you were about to share.

kate had barely walked through the door when you blurted, “i need to tell you something.”

her forehead creased in concern as she kicked off her sneakers. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”

you shook your head quickly, stepping closer and pulling the test out of your pocket. “no, nothing’s wrong. actually, everything’s perfect.”

her eyes darted down to the object in your hand, and for a moment, she froze. “is that…?”

you nodded, unable to hold back the tears that welled in your eyes. “kate, we did it. i’m pregnant.”

kate’s jaw dropped, her bag slipping from her shoulder to the floor. “oh my god,” she whispered, reaching out to take the test from you, her fingers brushing yours.

“it’s real,” you murmured, your voice shaky but full of awe.

kate let out a breathless laugh, staring at the test as though it were the most precious thing in the world. then she dropped it onto the counter and pulled you into her arms, holding you as tightly as she could. she buried her face in the crook of your neck, her body shaking with a mixture of laughter and tears.

“we’re having a baby,” she mumbled, her voice muffled against your skin.

you felt tears prick at your own eyes as you clung to her. “we’re having a baby.”

it had been months of waiting, hoping, and holding your breath, and now it was real. you were pregnant with your daughter, a miracle born from countless doctor’s appointments, late-night conversations, and unwavering support from kate every step of the way.

kate finally pulled back to look at you, her face lit with a smile so bright it made your heart ache. “you’re incredible,” she said, cupping your face in her hands. “i don’t even know how to put into words how much i love you.”

“you don’t have to,” you replied, leaning into her touch. “just love our little girl as much as you love me.”

kate laughed, brushing her thumb over your cheek. “she’s already got my whole heart, just like her mom.”

you both stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other and the overwhelming joy of what was to come. when kate finally pulled you toward the couch, settling in with you wrapped in her arms, she tilted her head thoughtfully.

“we have to tell the team,” she said, with you curled up against her.

you groaned, hiding your face in her shoulder. “do we have to tell everyone? you know they’re never going to let us hear the end of it.”

kate chuckled, stroking your hair. “babe, they’re going to be so excited. plus, it’s going to get out eventually, and i’d rather they hear it from us than from some random gossip site.”

you sighed, knowing she was right. “fine. but you’re doing most of the talking.”

“deal,” kate agreed with a grin.

🫂🫂🫂

the next day, kate gathered her las vegas aces teammates at the team facility, promising there was “big news” to share. the group was buzzing with curiosity, and you could feel your nerves mounting as everyone settled in.

“alright, everyone,” kate started, standing at the front of the room with her arm around you. “we’ve got something pretty exciting to share.”

a’ja was the first to pipe up, her grin mischievous. “you two finally getting a dog?”

“better,” kate replied, her smile widening as she glanced at you.

the room went quiet, everyone hanging on her next words. kate took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“we’re having a baby.”

for a moment, the room was completely silent. then, chaos erupted.

cheers, squeals, and excited chatter filled the air as the team surged forward, wrapping the two of you in hugs and bombarding you with questions.

“when did you find out?” “how far along are you?” “oh my god, is it a boy or a girl?”

kate fielded the questions with ease, her hand never leaving yours as she proudly shared the news.

“it’s a girl,” she said, her voice full of pride. “our little girl.”

the team melted at that, and a’ja immediately started brainstorming baby names while kelsey demanded that she would be the cool aunt.

amidst all the excitement, you caught kate’s eye, and she gave you a look that said everything she didn’t need to say out loud.

thanks for reading! requests are open and feel free to give me ideas for their family.

#kate martin x reader #kate martin #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wbb x reader #wbb imagine #iowa wbb #las vegas aces #lv aces

108 notes · View notes

nightunite · 1 day ago

Note

r.e. with johnny banging one of his maids

what's the breaking point or final straw that makes the maid finally snap and make the decision to leave soap? or, maybe even the point just before the decision is made?

-- 📖

Omg my first anon who signs their name! Welcome! Enjoy this angsty piece! Following the revelation that she is not the only one Johnny sees in the duchy, she does her best to limit her time with him. The thought of him touching her makes her skin crawl, makes her stomach curdle over the memory of him holding the other maid so tightly to him (the way he held her, how many more are there-). However, she also knows she cannot avoid him entirely, cannot retreat fully as he is still her employer, a fact seared into the forefront of her mind now when it should have been when this all started. She tries not to show her discomfort when he leans into her space, as she can now smell the perfumes of other women on his skin, can see his plump mouth most likely having kissed another before coming to her. She wonders if he even bothered to wash himself between, or if the hands he touches her with are still coated in the consequences of his actions. There's no comfort in his concern over her, him spending more and more time as the days go by to coax her into telling him what's the matter, is someone bothering her? He'll make it all go away for his sweet little maid, his favorite. He winks as he says their inside joke; bile creeps up her throat at the knowledge the joke is on her and always has been. She just manages to kiss him, brushing off anything further with a variety of excuses: She isn't feeling well, there is so much she has to do, a guest is due shortly. She even uses the tried and true 'I am unclean' excuse, face flushed as she looks down, desperate for him to believe it even though the stress of the situation she has found herself in has put it off for the forseeable future. Every time she feels her heart lurch over the sight of him, her stomach lurches as well. It's a struggle for her to keep food down, constantly envisioning the man she loves with other women. The knowledge he would have to wed someone of his station had always loomed over her, the thought of him forsaking his reputation due to being in love with her a fantasy she only indulges in when she lays down for bed. These days the thought brings more cruelty than comfort, and it's resulted in her stumbling from bed to heave up the meager portion of dinner that she manages to eat. The other staff notice how there seems to be an air of illness about her, her face paler than before, eyes red-rimmed at times, the dazed look she gets when she thinks no one is watching. The cooks especially take note of it, see how she struggles to keep food down, how she picks at her plate unless it's the blandest of soup or a portion of fruit. The head cook, a stern woman who runs the kitchen efficiently and while putting the fear of God into those who test her, has rubbed her back alongside the head maid more times than not when she hangs her head in the toilet. "I swear lass, you heave more than an expecting mother. Duke MacTavish ought to call in the doctor and have you seen to already, before you waste away!" If her eyes weren't blinded by tears, they would be wide open in horror. The vomiting, the missed days, the sleeping... All caused by stress yes but... Is there anything more stressful than carrying a new life inside of you? Particularly one born of such circumstances? Her breathing picks up, the last of the bile coughed out while her mind races, the thought growing more and more sure as she thinks back to the days when she and Johnny had gone further than they ever should have. The best case scenario is people assuming she is a loose woman; a random unnamed man being the father and her child being a bastard. The possibility to spin it as her being taken advantage of by a man who was passing through town is there, not likely to work but still an option. The worst case though? The scandal of bearing a Duke's bastard, of having lain in her employer's bed? All of them would be ruined.

The head maid sends her to bed to ensure she doesn't get anyone else sick with whatever she has. She lays in her bed, hand shakily pressed over her stomach, watery eyes fixed on the ceiling while she bites her lip to keep from sobbing. She has to get out, even if there is no child inside her. Things have crossed a line and she's clawing at it to let her back on the other side. This was doomed from the start, and this needs to end before this becomes a choice she can't take back. There has been recent gossip of the Baron of the woods returning, of him needing new staff due to several of his retiring from age. No connections to Duke MacTavish, a place out of the eyes of society, a man who does not partake in the prodding of other's status. It appears she will need to find a way to visit the Baron's home discretely. Soon.

#Baron Konig AU #That's the tag I'm running with for this

79 notes · View notes

buckgasms · 2 days ago

Text

Umm so random thought if you'd care to join...

Naive princess!reader (hey what's new with me? Um nothing?) and I'm kinda thinking an a/b/o thing but let's see... And prince!Bucky.

Maybe you are visiting his palace as part of a relationship building thing between your parents? I reckon there would be other princesses there? It's probably like a 'find him a bride' type scenario, but you, being your naive self aren't really aware of that, you just think it's a beautiful place and you want to explore the beautiful gardens as soon as you can.

Ok let's make it a/b/o

So you are there for a few days and you've been dragged to various events and dinners and the best you've gotten is a glimpse of the prince and a peak outside. You aren't feeling very happy about any of it.

Your mother is constantly moaning about how you are all being ignored and the royal family should be treating you better. Better seats, nicer rooms all that jazz. It's suffocating.

But finally one morning you are free of obligations so you throw on a pretty gown and dash from the room before you can be held back and head to the gardens.

On your way you bump into him. Prince James. He's actually gorgeous up close and you feel your tummy burst into a million butterflies when he smiles at you and makes a slight bow.

"Not running away are you princess?"

You giggle and shake your head.

"Only from my mother. I wanted to look around the gardens."

His eyes light up. "Can I be your guide? My mother will be thrilled to know someone is enjoying them."

You chuckle and take his arm, which he kindly offers, feeling electricity where your body meets his.

He guides you along, pointing out various features and areas, whilst casually probing you for information about you. Things you like, your family, your kingdom.

You spend ages among the flowers, flitting to each one like a bumblebee, sighing at the perfect scents. You don't notice him watching you with a soft smile on his face. You do notice his scent though, sandalwood and sea salt. You blush when you think about how it would smell close up.

The sun keeps you warm and dances across your skin as the morning wears on, until you find yourselves at the entrance of a maze.

You feel like you should probably go back. In fact you definitely should. But his boyish grin pushes that from your mind.

"Race you to the middle?"

Before you can really answer he dashes off and you blindly follow, almost immediately losing track of him. You follow the path, going this way and that until you realise that you are a bit lost.

You stop at a fork in the path and nibble on your finger. What now?

"James?"

You call out and for a moment you don't hear anything.

"James! Are you there?"

Suddenly his voice drifts from a few paths over.

"I'm here princess. You can find me..."

Panic sets in a little. How are you supposed to do that?

"Come on, you can find me, just use your nose."

You shut your eyes and try and find that sandalwood scent, you think about his golden skin, the way his hair looked so fluffy and soft and suddenly your feet where carrying you along the path.

"That's it... Don't worry, I'm here..."

You drift along, your fingers itching to touch him, even though you don't really understand why. It's just an urgent, deep need within you.

You reach another fork in the road and you don't know where to go because he's everywhere. You close your eyes again waiting when suddenly you hear his footsteps and he's behind you, gently wrapping his arms around your body and pressing his lips to your shoulder.

"There you are" he mumbles, pressing a chaste kiss to your skin.

You turn in his arms and stare wide eyed at him, your hands gripping his shirt.

"James, we can't... You shouldn't..."

Your words falter as his lips run along your jaw and press butterfly kisses to your cheek and nose, failing completely when he presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

You whine when he pulls away, making him chuckle. He leans back down to kiss you again, taking a little more time and you let your arms wrap around his neck, unable to control the ache in your body, desperate to feel his body tight against yours. But your mother's scandalised voice rings in your ear and you pull away.

"No, James we can't. It's not proper! You're a prince, you're the prince."

He laughs, pressing his forehead against yours and squeezing your waist.

"And you are my princess. I want you. I've been waiting for a chance to be with you all week. And now I know for sure... I want you..."

🏵️

The rest of the visit, your family is top table, and you are seated next to James the entire time. You occasionally catch glances from sour faced girls who seem to really hate you, but he just whispers something in your ear and you're back in your happy bubble.

Other hopeful families start departing as they all see the writing on the wall. The prince has chosen his princess, and there's nothing they can do to capture his interest.

🏵️

Every morning he brings you a different flower from the garden.

Every lunchtime he brings you a sweet treat from the kitchen, and you eat it together on the steps of the palace.

And every evening he knocks on your door and you give him a kiss. Gentle and full of promise of a long love to follow.

*sigh*

#prince!bucky #princess!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky imagine #bucky fluff

89 notes · View notes

familiarscars · 3 days ago

Text

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 09

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

If that punching bag could speak, it would beg for mercy. Sweat heated my skin, and with every punch against the rubbery surface, an overstrained grunt sliced through the air.

"I think that's enough for today, Noah," someone said from a distance, but my focus was locked on the back-and-forth motion of my clenched fists, ignoring how they throbbed painfully with each strike.

This was the only way to unload everything consuming me without smashing my head into some random passerby while walking down the street.

The past few days couldn’t have been more hellish. I couldn’t write, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and all I was left with was being forced to see that woman at every rehearsal and act like she didn’t exist.

Impossible when she was everywhere.

"I just said it seems like enough for today, Noah!" The same voice broke the short space between me and the punching bag as it pulled me away from it. "What the hell is wrong with you today? You seem like you're on another planet!"

The trainer stood in front of me, arms crossed, while I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor. My chest heaved uncontrollably as I stared at his calves through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over my face.

Training at night was good; I liked the empty gym, especially when I used it as an escape.

"My head's full of crap, that's all," I spat, removing the wraps around my fists.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Only if you can hit me hard enough to induce permanent amnesia," I tried to joke, but my voice came out more morbid than anything else.

"Actually... I might be able to do that!" The tall, bald man with bulging veins on his temples shrugged. "But forgetting, even temporarily, won't make your crap disappear."

"And who said I want anything resolved? The sooner everything goes to hell, the better."

I definitely didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it came out automatically, and he should ignore it. My good moods were so rare that, to him, this probably felt like just another normal day.

"It might be a relief for a while, but the body reacts differently than your mind. Even if your mind didn’t remember anything, you'd live with the feeling that something’s missing every time it relives memories, habits, interests, and tastes," he added. "Like when you touch an object and your body reacts instantly, or when you visit a place and your insides speak for themselves."

What utter nonsense, for God’s sake.

"Got it," I said, giving him a thumbs-up with a straight smile, as if that load of crap actually made sense.

"Fine, fine, call me crazy, Mr. Know-It-All!" He rolled his eyes, turning his back. My gaze swept the room, watching as he picked up gloves and bags scattered on the floor, placing them on the shelves.

Leaving the gym, I regretted not grabbing a jacket earlier as the wind hit me on the street. Walking to the parking lot, I unlocked the car with a click, and before getting in, I heard a brief cluster of voices in the distance. Turning around, I saw a group of four girls bundled up in band hoodies, phones in hand.

I couldn’t explain why, but a discomfort seemed to envelop me as they approached, realizing I wasn’t about to flee.

“Noah, would you mind taking a picture with us?” asked the tallest girl, her short hair tucked behind her ears.

Well, maybe there was no harm in that.

“Of course! Let’s do it!” I forced a brief smile as they gathered around me.

A guy passing through the parking lot helped take the photo, and I held the smile until he finished.

“Thank you so much, Noah. I hope you’re doing okay!” said another girl with colorful streaks in her hair, stepping aside.

“I am, thanks for asking.”

I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t that I hated my fans or anything. In fact, I’d always been able to separate those who genuinely appreciated the band’s work respectfully from those who felt entitled to my personal life, as if it didn’t belong to me or as if I wasn’t an adult capable of handling my own decisions.

But I couldn’t deny that most of the time, I wished to be a voice without a face. I loved writing music, I loved singing, and I never doubted it was for me since the first time I did it. I just wasn’t so sure that back then, I’d also wanted everything that came with it.

The way I felt uneasy in most recent social interactions made it clear how I felt.

“We just wanted to let you know that no matter what happened, we’re on your side. Always!” she emphasized, and my brows furrowed as my expression darkened.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was on a news channel—speculations that the Bad Omens vocalist’s overdose was her ex-boyfriend’s fault.” The information came with a phone placed in my hand. “They dug up videos of you two arguing at the festival, and now they’re blaming you.”

“They’re piecing together moments from shows where things seemed tense and comparing how she’s been since your breakup,” added a redheaded girl, taking the phone from my hand. “But we’re rallying in your defense. We know she was always the problem, and we won’t let her fans drag your name like that.”

Every misfortune seemed to fall short of what I deserved.

“Look, I’m sure you all have better things to do than worry about this,” I assured them, stepping back closer to the car. “I don’t need lawyers for the internet court. Take care.”

With a final fake smile, my eyes narrowed as I turned my back on them and got in the car. Before starting the engine, I still caught one last complaint.

“It’s incredible how he defends that girl even in the middle of this circus. I don’t understand what the hell she has!” she fumed, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.

That was an excellent question.

I was far too focused on the traffic, humming Sicko Mode by Travis Scott, tapping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help swaying in a little dance as if nothing was wrong. The sunlight was strong, so I pulled my sunglasses from my hair to better see the road.

For a fleeting moment of distraction, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and a chilling sensation washed over me for no reason. Behind my car, a dark-windowed SUV waited at the same red light. There was no reason for concern—I knew cars like that were common around here.

But the unease grew, gnawing at me, as I decided to test my suspicion when the light turned green. Casually, I turned the first corner to shake it off, but it didn’t take long for the driver of the SUV to appear on the narrow street, blatantly trailing me.

I pressed the gas pedal moderately, and the bastard matched my pace. He didn’t seem intent on cutting me off, maintaining a safe distance—just enough to let me know he was there, aiming to unsettle me.

I tried to keep control, ignoring my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the mirror. Accelerating down the second avenue, I ran a red light, weaving through the crossing traffic to shake the pursuer, my pulse racing in rhythm with the car’s speed.

No time to think. I veered sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle that slammed on its brakes. The blaring horn couldn’t even dampen the sinister adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood alongside my labored breathing.

I yanked the wheel, swerving into the first open alley I spotted, slowing just enough to notice the SUV caught in the chaos I’d caused at the intersection, freezing the traffic behind it.

But what the hell was that?

After another meeting in the office, everyone was ready to leave. I was really determined to keep my promise when I said she had died to me yesterday.

Today, I only thought about her three thousand times.

When I passed through the door, I saw that she was right behind me, and it was incredible how every time things were tense between us, she somehow managed to look six times more stunning, as if just to provoke me.

The funniest part was that she didn’t have to try very hard to do it.

“Are you okay?” My steps instinctively halted when I heard her voice. “You seemed agitated when you got to the meeting, and…”

If I were speaking to her, I would’ve surely said that a big part of my irritation came from people spreading lies about us online again and some lunatic racing me on the road just a few minutes earlier.

“I really wanted to talk to you about something,” she insisted, gently touching my back, which I quickly pulled away from. Her fingers carried electricity, and just the slightest contact with my skin was enough to turn my brain into useless mush.

But I wasn’t about to break the silence game.

“Noah?” Gerard poked his head out of the room, interrupting the moment. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Relieved, I exhaled deeply, keeping my back turned to her as I walked into the room. I hated the smell of cigars and strong alcohol that filled the place, and I couldn’t stop glaring disgustedly at the leather furniture, worried the scent would stick to me.

“Just seeing the number of attendees in today’s meeting told me your conversation didn’t go well, did it?”

“Did you call me here to talk about work, or are you looking to catch up on gossip? I’m sure any website could keep you more updated than I could,” I retorted as I slouched in the chair, legs spread, letting my head fall to the side.

Fortunately, I wasn’t very expressive.

“I called you because I care about you two, and of course, this news shook me—not just because it’s a sad decision coming from someone young like her…” Gerard paused dramatically, and I raised a single eyebrow. “But because I’m worried about you in all of this.”

Fascinating.

“It happened exactly as I imagined. There’s no way she could’ve handled another wave of hate after all these months being labeled as problematic. Noah, I knew she’d eventually find a way to drag you into it, to share the blame!”

“I don’t follow the news, so I’m out of the loop,” I lied shamelessly.

“So you haven’t noticed she hasn’t defended you or denied anything being said about you? Noah…” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands with a thick gold ring on his ring finger over the messy desk. “I’ve been your age, and I know what love does to people, especially when it’s one-sided.”

Nothing annoyed me more than people circling endlessly around a topic instead of just saying it outright. We weren’t at a lecture or a sermon, and outside this place, dragging things out made no sense.

It was impossible not to stare at him with more disinterest as I rested my hand on my chin.

“I know you probably think this is all nonsense, but I can’t let you forget what happened the last time an issue between you two crossed personal boundaries and hurt the band,” he stressed, drawing a line on the desk. “I took the hit, and you�� well, no need to comment—just search your name online.”

“Every day revisiting the same topic. Don’t you have a new, important agenda to make my visit worthwhile?”

“This will remain the topic until you stop behaving like you’re ready to throw it all away for that disturbed girl again!” He finally bared his claws. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t, even for a second, think it was betrayal for her to throw you to the wolves and save her own skin?”

I’d reached my limit for the day, clearing my throat into my fist before standing and stretching my back. Slowly, I leaned over the desk, bringing my face close to his while locking eyes and moistening my lips with my tongue.

“Gerard, dear…” I whispered so softly it almost sounded like a song. “You can take my band, my money, my rights, my songs, even the damn socks I sell. But my personal life? That’s still none of your damn business!”

“It becomes my business when she manipulates every thought in your head and keeps you from doing your job!”

“As you’ve noticed, we’re no longer together. She made her choice yesterday, and now our relationship is purely professional. I couldn’t care less about what she does from now on, as long as it means she sings properly and does her job!” I declared. “Now, please stop bothering me with things that aren’t my responsibility or interest. I’ll keep ensuring my part is done.”

A strangely triumphant smile formed on his lips, and I watched as Gerard nodded slowly.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, giving two light pats to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you!”

Breathing outside that room again felt like being reborn, if such a thing was possible. The entire way out of the office, I tried to push his words out of my head, though they carried a shred of truth.

I couldn’t forget that when everything fell on her shoulders, I had the same reaction, if not worse, staying silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. But it never did, and now it made sense for her to use a winning hand against me.

She knew I couldn’t do anything on my own, and that gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted. But it was undeniable how bitter it tasted to feel like a stepping stone for her unstable ego.

Outside, I paused at the entrance as rain washed over the dry, empty streets of the city. It wasn’t heavy, but the few drops that hit my face were cold and powerful enough to conjure a mirage before my eyes.

Ahead on the road, there was nothing but trees past the shoulder. In the middle of the asphalt, two people—a couple—smiled as they ran, chasing each other like there was no fear of tomorrow. They danced even without music, and it seemed like the first time the boy had ever felt truly happy about something. He looked free.

Shaking my head to push away the revisited memory, I headed toward the studio, which wasn’t far. Outside, amid the laughter and the sound of guitar riffs, there she was, her voice like a spell capable of putting me in an automatic trance every time I heard it.

Passing through the gate slowly, I walked toward the back of the vast yard. She and my friends were gathered, Jolly and she doing a duet—more precisely, a cover of Decode. Even as they seemed to be having fun, she didn’t go off-key once.

The raspiness of her voice, the beginnings of delirium watching her sit there smiling between verses on a bench with the microphone in hand—it took me back to the bar’s back room, watching her sing in absolute silence. There was no technique, no production, no effect—nothing could compete with the absurd talent I desperately wished the world would know.

The same place where I first saw her and swore I’d never seen anything like it, the same place where I fell hopelessly in love with the insane woman who had a desperation for life, for proving how free she was, enough to infect me with the same poison.

I hated her.

I hated her so much.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ;

68 notes · View notes

sweetluna20 · 12 hours ago

Note

Paige Bueckers x makeup influencer (kind of like James Charles) and they do makeup on Paige (maybe do a q&a too) or review Christmas advent calendars in a YouTube video

advent calendar ❤️💚❤️💚

paige x reader

“HEYYY GUYSS!!! it’s me y/n and im here with my beautiful, amazing, talented girlfriend, the one ,the only PAIGEEEE BUECKERS!!”

“okay okay that’s enough” paige responds trying to calm both of you down. but that failed miserably causing you both to burst into laughter.

“anyways! today we’re going to open pr packages i’ve gotten from random companies. Oh! paige and i are going to do a Q&A so if anyone wants to ask some questions go for it!”

“just not too many.” paige adds, already seeing the comments flood in.

“okay the first package we have is from Laneige!” and the first question is for paige!” your voice caused paige’s ears to perk up.

“okay so the question is.. what is your favorite thing about me?”

you quickly look at paige and smiled before opening the package.

“umm.. i’d say my favorite thing about y/n is her personality and energy.” “on the internet she has an extroverted personality and a lot of energy, but i’m actuality she’s super shy and introverted. she has such a calm energy and a soothing voice. so i would say that’s my favorite thing about her.” paige stated with a smile with blush covering her cheeks.

you look down at the box, you have the brightest shade of pink on your face and the biggest smile.

“what’cha got there” paige asks looking over your shoulder.

“oh yes, so i have this really adorable laneige box filled with lip products. they have the cute lip balms and masks which are my favorite!” you try your best not to stutter, trying to ignore the warmth in your heart.

“aw you’re so cute” paige teases you

the comments flood in

“ooooo”

“y/n flustereddd”

“i feel so single rn 😭”

“paige come home the kids miss you”

you see that comment and your eye lit up.

“yea paige go home the kids miss you.”

“people these days… jeez” you say shaking your head at the camera .

“alright alright open your packages, since i have to go home to my kids”

by now you’ve opened 5 packages and paige has answered a couple of questions.

you reach for the next box.

your eyes bright up with joy and you have the biggest smile on your face.

“AHHH ITS AN ADVENT CALENDAR!!”

“i love these so much” you exclaimed

wait why?

“uh a comment is asking you why you love them” paige said trying to read it as fast as she could.

“omg yes! i love telling this story!”

“okay so this was back in 2021, paige and i were sophomores. at the time we’ve been going out together for around 3 months. so she took me to this really really nice restaurant in hartford. it was the end of november, like before we went on thanksgiving break. we both came with gifts, i got her a stuffed husky to bring on her trip to remember me.” you start giggling feeling your cheeks becoming more and more flustered.

“and um she got… got me an advent calendar. since we would barely see each other for the month of decmeber, she said that each day i open is a little gift from her.”

“it was my favorite thing in the world. each day i would open it and i would call nika telling her the little surprise i got.”

“ever since then i love getting advent calendars because they remind me of paige.” you smiled looking at the calendar in your lap.

without saying anything paige gave you a big hug and kiss.

“i love you so much” she tells you, with hearts in her eyes.

“i love you too.”

(not my best work, but it’s a new concept for me so i’m trying my best) thank you for the great request 💜

stylist★: @heart4caitlin, @yannasuniverse, @patscorner, @pbno5, @st4rrzynight, @mrsarnold

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #luna’s stories

97 notes · View notes

jhilsara · 3 days ago

Text

Of Bookstore, Coffees, and Late Nights pt. 2

Sunshine!Reader/Southern!Reader/Plus Sized!Reader

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: A year after you meet Spencer and become friends, life continues to throw curve balls. A hot summer with a broken AC, another festive Halloween, and many of your southern quirks to keep Spencer's spirits high.

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: Canon typical BAU themes, sick family members, Mentions of Emily Prentiss funeral

Previous|Next

The one where Spencer cuts his hair

Summer is so close and you’re already feeling the heat. To be fair, the giant windows don’t really help the temperature of the store when it’s been hours of the sun beating down. Or that the sun's staying up until your shift starts now. Unlike in the fall and winter when it’s dark by six in the evening. Your shift always starts so warm and humid, the electric bill is already skyrocketing and it’s not even July yet.

Not to mention summer is the busy season outside of the holidays. So many students are free for the summer and pinning for activities. You sigh knowing you need to start planning for that.

You're fanning yourself with a handheld fan when the doors chime open.

“Welcome to the Midnight Owl, let me know if-” you cut yourself off with a loud gasp as you see who’s entered.

“Spencer Reid, you cut your hair!” you hurry around the front desk counter to look him over.

Spencer’s face lights up with an embarrassed flush. His hands wring the straps of his worn leather bag.

“It was just getting too hot for the length...” He tries to justify.

“No no no! It looks good! I’m just surprised is all.” you reply with a tease. your hand twitches and you stop yourself from ruffling his hair. His pout was enough to keep your teasing to a minimum.

He scratches the back of his head nervously. Averting his gaze from your piercing eyes.

You bite your lip holding back a snicker, you know he’s probably been teased all day, so you give him a break. You don’t know exactly what Spencer does for his job, but you do know he and his coworkers are close. So, you aren’t surprised that he already feels a little self-conscious. You're sure they teased him to death.

“It looks great Spencer.” you say softer, “Very handsome.” you smiled in affirmation.

If Spencer wasn’t red before he surely was now. His hands tighten on his satchel bag and his eyes quickly look down before shifting back up.

“Thanks.” He murmured quietly.

“You’re drinks on me today; you look like you’ve been teased enough.” you say making your way to the drink counter.

“Thanks, you have no idea...” he replied with a roll of his eyes and a small smile turning his lips.

Spencer looks around and notices the shop is pretty empty tonight, no regulars, just him. Not even a random patron perusing the isles. Even the music playing overhead seems quieter than normal. He’s a bit thankful for that.

You're making his drink, which you are giving him your homemade sweet tea. It’s far too hot for his normal hot coffee, no matter what he protests. You’ve put enough sugar in the tea to satisfy Spencer’s sweet tooth. Plus, you’re not sure he’s ever had traditional sweet tea.

You come around the corner and hand him a glass as well as one for yourself. You look over Spencer who’s standing in his work clothes, cardigan and all and you make a mild face of disgust.

“It’s too warm in here for you to be wearing that. It’s gonna be hotter than hell this week and I need a better air conditioner unit.” Your accent seeps through every word and Spencer finds himself smiling into his drink before he can even bother to respond.

“I see your face Spencer, I don’t wanna hear it about my southernisms.” you point an accusing finger at him. “I’m serious about how hot it’s gonna be. These windows make the whole store like a greenhouse!” you mumble in irritation.

Spencer just finds himself laughing and shaking his head. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just a little ridiculous how the windows are the bane of your existence.”

You roll your eyes and places your hands on your hips, “It’s not the windows, it’s summer.” you said the season like it’s personally offended her. Making a blegh noise along with it.

Spencer raises a brow at that, “What did summer ever do to you?” he asked.

You raise a brow, “Listen, you try growing up in the Georgia heat and humidity your whole life and you tell me how you feel about summer. Especially swamp ass, do you know what swamp ass even is Spencer?” you say in a huff.

Spencer snorts and almost spits out his sweet tea. “Excuse me?” his voice pitches in disbelief.

“It’s the foulest experience where you sweat so much it soaks down your back. So, imagine that every summer of your whole childhood.” you state with a face of disgust.

Spencer can only find himself laughing at how intense you are.

“I’m so serious, there’s a reason I moved away from the pit of Satan's armpit, okay?” you hiss out in mild annoyance.

“I thought it was so you had better doctors for your dad?” he accuses with a raised brow.

You shrug nonchalantly and drinks from your sweet tea again, “That too.”

“Come on, it won’t be that bad. Besides you actively only get the sun in these windows for an hour, maybe two tops. You work the night shift.”

You glare at him, it’s not serious, but Spencer is trying very hard not to laugh. “Go look at the thermostat then and tell me what is says versus what it’s on.” you demand gesturing to the wall behind you.

He rolls his eyes at your dramatics but does as you’ve asked. Spencer walks behind to look over the temperature. “It’s on 78.”

“Yeah? What is it set to Spencer?”

“...68.” he murmurs.

You slam your hands on the counter, “That’s a ten-degree difference! It’s too hot!”

You slide dramatically to the ground and release a fake sob. “I’m gonna burn up in here, melt like the wicked witch of the west!”

Spencer crosses his arms as he stands above you, “Maybe, have you thought of purchasing a box fan?” he questions.

You look up at him, your eyes brimming with fake tears. He’s actually impressed by your commitment to this. You would have been a wonderful stage actress.

“My last one didn’t survive the whole summer, and it only works if I stay behind the counter... Spencer you know I move around too much!” you whine.

“Have you tried changing the unit filter?”

You stop being dramatic and stand up quickly. “I just assumed Josie did... oh my god, I’ve never once looked at the filter.” you murmured.

You excuse yourself to go into the back and check the closet. Spencer stays up at the front leaning against the desk, his arms crossed as he just shakes his head in disbelief.

“Oh my good GOD! Eeeewww!!”

You come bolting back around and grab your phone, quickly typing out a text message.

“Spencer it’s pitch black I don’t think anyone’s ever changed it!” You look sick in the face; pale as can be.

“Oh my god, I need to wash my hands, I didn’t even touch it, but Jesus Christ was that disgusting.” You quickly shuffle past him and go to the bathroom, scrubbing away at your hands.

Spencer spends the next five minutes doubled over laughing at how dramatic you are. Until you makes him go look at the filter. Then he was the one scrubbing away at his own hands in disgust.

He’s at least ninety percent sure he saw a moth staring back at him.

It’s July and you’re still suffering. While changing the filter of the bookstores AC unit helped, it still didn’t fix the greenhouse problem.

You're at the front, box fan at your feet, fanning yourself with a hand fan, a giant cup of ice water from the cafe area, and you’re reasonably stripped into something comfortable, well, as much as you can be. Which is a sports tank and running shorts. It’s your store, you don’t care about an arbitrary dress code that you don’t enforce anyway. Besides, everything that needs to be covered is. You have a massive flannel shirt hanging off the back of your chair, just in case you think you need to be more modest.

The store has been pretty hectic and busy since the summer season started, the events they’ve been hosting were popular. Not to mention the Pride event she threw in June, with a mini pop-up cocktail bar. That weekend it might as well have been almost a club. Not to mention the drag show you helped throw, or the drag performers reading for children in the day. Honestly June was festive as ever. Now though, halfway through July, it’s dead inside the store at night. July meant vacations, so all of your locals were at the beach or the mountains. Some even in Europe. So, your nights were uncommonly quiet, well, except for the occasional tourist and Spencer. Which he only visits when he’s free or can’t sleep. Which isn’t as much as you would like, but just because your sleep schedule sucks doesn’t mean you should wish it upon others.

You don’t get too much free time to hang out with your friends anymore since co-owning the bookstore, but to be fair most of your friends were your coworkers. Besides that, all your other friends are still in Georgia. You could call them, and try to plan a time to visit, but life is hectic. With the constant doctor’s visits on top of your busy schedule with the shop, it’s rare you have time for yourself.

In fact, the last thing you did was go out with your coworkers to go see Eclipse in theaters. Which while, fun, you haven’t been out for yourself in what feels like years. You try to brush off the too familiar feeling of dread creeping into your head. Your life really revolves around the bookstore and your dad.

It just gets so lonely in the shop from time to time. You reach for your cell phone and open the notification from the family group chat. It’s a few photos of the beach from your sister and her boyfriend. You feel the wave of jealousy rising in your throat and pushing your phone away from you. It’s not Bridget’s fault you’re stuck working around the clock, but good lord, would you kill for a vacation. Just once, you would like to not spend your waking hours thinking about your dad’s health.

You sigh and lean against the counter, arms dangling over dramatically.

You take some solace in knowing your sister has at least been with this new guy for about a year now...which means that maybe you should remember his name. John? Jacob? Jackson? That sounded vaguely correct. To be fair your sister rarely kept a man around long enough to remember his name.

Your phone dings again and you don't have it in yourself to even look. You want to be at a beach, or really anywhere else. You lift your head to check the clock and almost cry when you see it’s not even midnight.

The shop's phone rings, and the noise is so loud it makes you practically jump out of your skin. You quickly pick up the phone, begging for something.

“Hello, this is the Midnight Owl, how can I help you?” your voice chimes happily through the phone.

“I hoped you were working; it’s Spencer.” His voice is soft, almost like he’s whispering.

“Oh! Hey, I thought you were out on a job?” you asked.

He hums in acknowledgement, “I am, I just,” he sighs, “I needed a break.”

“Oh.” you lean casually against the counter. “Trouble in paradise?”

He scoffs, “Something like that. It’s been a long day.” you hear how tired he sounds in his voice.

“When do you come home?”

“Hopefully tomorrow...” he whispers.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” you ask softly. You shift and move to stand up a bit straighter, concern written all over your features.

The silence from the other line tells you enough, he hasn’t slept much if at all. “Spencer...” you said his name in a slight disapproval, but your tone is soft at the edges.

“I’ll sleep when I get home.” he said firmly.

“Spencer, I’d feel better if you slept now .” you tell him, chastising him like a child.

“Kind of hard with my job.” He jokes.

“You never told me what you do? You see me at my job all the time. Kind of unfair if you ask me.” you tease him.

“You don’t need to worry about it, it’s just stressful and involves a lot of traveling last minute.”

“So vague, but I’ll accept it for now.”

Spencer changes the subject quickly. “Are you reading the book I gave you?”

“Changing the subject I see... but yes, I am. It’s getting me through the very lonely hours. It’s a ghost town in here...”you said.

“Is it still hot?”

“ Yes . If my hair wasn’t already pulled back, I’d think about cutting it off. It’s honestly miserable if I leave the safety of the fan. I’ve called someone to come look, it can’t be normal that it’s 80 degrees in here.”

“How soon can someone come out?”

“Not until next week.” you whine. “I’m tempted to just shove myself in the small walk-in freezer we have in the very back...I’m afraid it’ll lock me in though.” you joke.

Spencer chuckles, “Maybe don’t do that. I’d hate to come back and you’re a popsicle.”

He heard you gasp, “That’s it! We should sell popsicles next week. Spencer, you are a genius!” you exclaim.

“Technically, yes I am.” he teases.

“Shut up, just get home soon. I’m bored outta my mind here. I’m almost done with the massive book you gave me. That’s how bored I am.”

You can almost see him rolling his eyes at you.

“Noted, next time I’ll make sure to send someone to check on you.”

“...Not funny.” You pout. You check the time; you’ve only been talking to Spencer for a little over an hour.

“Where are you this time?” you asked.

“Georgia...ironically enough.”

“Ohhhhhh, south or north? Actually, it doesn’t matter. How is the humidity?" You sound all too enthusiastic to ask him.

“...Wet.”

You hum, “So I guess you’ve experienced the sweat pouring down your back into your ass crack?”

“...I wouldn’t have phrased it like that, but yes. It’s been a sweaty week.”

“Sweatin’ like a sinner in church as my daddy would say.” you add in a light playful tone.

“Anyway, besides coffee the only thing I’ve had to drink is sweet tea. Which, while it is good, yours is better.” he admits.

“You’re just trying to butter me up, and it’s working. What do you want?” you asked.

He sighs, “Can’t get anything past you.”

“Think of it as my own older sibling senses, it’s like a mom but better.” you said casually.

“Could you please pick up my mail? I haven’t been in my apartment for a few weeks. I’ve had back-to-back work trips.” he asks tentatively.

You snort, “Of course I will, your apartments just down the street! What are friends for?”

“I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. You’d do the same for me. I’ll let you know if anything is a pressing matter.”

“You know opening my mail is a federal crime, right?” He jokes.

“Mmmm if you find out I went through it.” you tease.

“Y/N-”

“Relax! I’m just joking. Your mail will be waiting, unopened, when you come back tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I have to go but, goodnight.”

“Night Spencer.”

As you hang up, you’re left with the overly warm bookstore and the quiet emptiness of it. You still have hours to go and can only hope someone comes to ease the boredom. You look down at the book Spencer lent and see the roughly two hundred pages left to read. You pick up your sticky notes and a pen and decide to finish it before seeing him again. It’s not like you have anything else to do besides sweat.

You really hate summer.

The one about Halloween (part 2 electric boogaloo)

October is by far, one of, if not, your favorite months of the year. There’s something about the confirmation of the crisp air letting you know it’s finally that time of year. The leaves changing, the smell of apples, caramel, and pumpkin filling the bakery, it all makes you nostalgic for your childhood.

You have so many memories of running through the backyard leaves with Birdie, carving pumpkins with your daddy and sewing makeshift costumes with your momma. You remember the year you hand sewed a cat tail onto a ballet leotard and how proud you were that you had done it all by yourself. You loved trick-or-treating with your baby sister and dragging her up to houses with scary themes. Bridget always cried but you knew how to make her see the silliness of it all.

The wind reminds you of how you’d parade around the neighborhood with your friends and bike around the cul-de-sac. Your heavy flannel flapping behind you as you could smell the leaves and rain. You truly missed the biting cold chill air that came with the turn of the season and stores filling up with decorations. How you would wait all day long for your favorite movie to play on cable during sleepovers.

You give a wistful sigh, maybe you just miss the last moments of when your family was still close, before it fell apart before your eyes. That last Halloween when you were thirteen was so fun, but it just leaves a weird sour taste in your mouth now, like a granny smith apple.

The bitter feeling that creeps up your throat makes you nauseous. You need coffee... or a sedative.

You’re just far too busy trying to keep the festive activities alive, to think about childhood right now. There is a trunk or treat to plan for the neighborhood block. All the small businesses were going to barricade off the road for trick or treaters the night of Halloween. You really needed to think of a theme to decorate the back of the shop's minivan. It offered so much potential; you wanted the theme to be fun but still bookish. Maybe it could be Harry Potter? It was festive enough and based on a children's book series.

The costume wouldn’t be that hard either, you could easily dress as Hermione or any student really. All you needed was robes and a wand. Plus, you’re pretty crafty, you could easily make props for the car and get some tea lights.

You shoot a text to the group chat of coworkers who want to participate and let them know the car theme will be Harry Potter.

It’s a quick choice, but it’s fitting enough. One that’s easy to dress for too. You definitely have house robes from when your friends from home went to Universal Studios during opening weekend. It was a wonderful souvenir gift and belated birthday present that they had chipped in to give. A wonderful Hufflepuff robe and matching scarf. You wished you could have gone with them, but knowing they were thinking about you was enough.

You try to come up with something else that needs to be done, any other activity to focus on for the store. You’d rather keep your mind busy than look at the sterile walls of the hospital you were in.

Maybe that’s why you were being so nostalgic right now, it was easier to think of a happier time than where you are now.

You look at the time and groan to yourself, you’ve been in the waiting room of the doctor’s office for the past hour, and you had no idea how long you were going to be there.

Your nerves are shot, and your leg is still bouncing nervously. Your dad had finally agreed with his doctors that he needed to be in physical therapy twice a week. This is the first week he’s doing two sessions, and you wanted to stay this time. You're just worried, but you’ve always worried.

The sad look the check-in nurse, Susan, gives you every time you come in fills you with such rage that you had to bite the inside of your cheek not to yell at the woman. You and your daddy didn’t need pity. He was sick, and it was your job to take care of him. You didn’t need pitiful looks. Pity didn’t pay the medical bills and they sure as hell weren’t going to cure your dad.

You plug your ears with headphones and open your iTunes to listen to music. You just need a distraction. You dig around in your purse and pull out the new book you’re reading, Warm Bodies. Maybe getting lost in this weird retelling of Romeo and Juliet with zombies will help you pass the time. From the parts you’ve read you've found it pretty humorous. A fun little Shakespearean retelling. It was perfect for the spooky season anyway.

You try to settle into the most uncomfortable chair and begin reading.

You pass another gruelingly long hour that way, reading about R and Julie. Reading about this zombie man slowly regaining his humanity, his sense of self... it’s almost jokingly painful that you wish love could easily cure your dad as it does R.

You suddenly remembered how much you hated Shakespeare.

It’s finally Halloween and you’re manning the van with candy and handing it out to tiny children all dressed in fun colorful costumes. You're standing there with three of your coworkers, who have decided to be Professor Dumbledor, Professor McGonigal, and the Dark Lord respectively.

The lights on the street are glowing green, orange, and purple. There’s a small fog machine hooked up next to the store’s van, and the speaker from the music store’s booth is blaring the best ambient music. It’s quite a festivity.

As much as you want to be, you’re not in the best mood. You’re absolutely beaming at the kids and laughing with your coworkers, but you’ve been in a bit of a mood. Spencer said he was going to help you, but he had a last-minute work call. You're trying to not let it be a mood killer, and on the surface it’s believable. You're a little sad though you aren’t getting to spend it with him. They’ve been talking about spooky and fall themed activities for the past month. Spencer had agreed to spend Halloween with you, since no one he knew seemed to share his enthusiasm for the holiday.

You've seen hordes of kids come and go all night. Ghosts, cats, vampires, sparkling vampires, and lots of fashionable monsters in bright neon colors. Monster High? you think it is what the kids said they were.

You look down and see the bottom of the candy bucket and the last few kids going from car to car.

“I got this if you guys want to go home tonight.” you tell your employees.

"You sure? We don’t mind.” the cashier Keri, Professor McGonigal, states.

“I’m positive, I’m just gonna close these doors and lock up for the night. It’s a tomorrow problem to clean up along with the rest of store decorations.” you just shrug and wave them off.

“Happy Halloween!”

“This was fun, have a good night!”

“Night!”

You wave off your three employees and give the last little trick or treater the rest of the candy in the bowl. The rest of the block is packing up as well.

You shove the tables and chairs unceremoniously into the back of the van and easily park it behind the store.

That’s a problem for Josie in the morning or you tomorrow night.

You walk in through the back entrance and turn on a few of the front lights. You turn the sign to closed and lock the front door. Your only goal right now is to take down the Halloween decorations so it’s a clean slate in the morning.

You were on a ladder pulling ghosts from the ceiling when you heard a knock on the glass of the store.

“We are CLOSED !” you shout, your accent seeping through. You could not bother to be polite for the rest of the night. You just wanted to shower, put on your favorite Halloween movie, Casper, and go to sleep.

There’s another tap at the window, more persistent.

“I said we are closed!” you yank the ghost hanging from the ceiling and turn to glare at the person through the glass, but all the anger leaves your body.

Spencer stands there, waving with a timid smile and pointing at his watch.

You scramble down from the ladder and throw open the door, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a work call?” you asked in confusion.

“We have tickets for a phantasmagoria show, I wasn’t going to miss that!” He said excitedly, “Are you ready? It starts at ten.”

You just blink for a moment before your face splits into a grin and nod, “Yeah, yeah, just let me change out of this real quick and we can go.” you said looking down at your Hogwarts robes.

Spencer finally looks at what you’re wearing and gives a small grin, lightly touching your scarf and humming.

“Hufflepuff makes sense.” He murmurs softly.

Your face bursts into a flush before you swat Spencer away and turn to scurry off to change.

Halloween was always your favorite holiday.

The one with migraines

Spencer can’t keep fighting through these migraines. He’s lying on the couch of his apartment in the middle of the day, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes to add pressure. He finds no relief.

The doctor was useless, and he genuinely feels irritated and at a loss.

Then he remembers your hands softly stroking through his hair. His eyes flew open, and he pressed the heels of his palm to his eyes, rubbing them raw. He can feel the heat of embarrassment on his neck as he thought about your soft hands running through his scalp. He presses his palms harder and still finds no relief.

He sits up quickly and calls you.

“Spencer?” Your voice is soft and groggy; you sounded like you just woke up.

“Sorry, were you asleep?” he asked sheepishly.

“It’s okay, I was napping. What’s wrong?” He can hear you shift around, moving blankets probably.

“I, uh,” he suddenly feels embarrassed. Spencer sighs, “I keep having awful migraines. I’m at a loss and I’ve just been irritated because my head won’t stop pounding.”

“Ohhhhhh. Been there before.” you said quietly. “Do you want me to come over? I can do all my tricks. I have like, a ritual if my meds don’t work.” you offered.

“Please.” He finds himself asking you in a small voice.

“Don’t have to ask twice, I’ll be over. Go ahead and boil a tea kettle though- you'll want a warm drink.” you’re more awake now, your voice sounding concerned, “I’ll be there soon.”

You don’t live that far away, but it’s still at least a fifteen-minute drive, with no traffic. You make it over in roughly twenty, and you give a small tentative knock on his door. When Spencer lets you in, he sees that you’re in your lounge clothes with a hoodie and baggy sweatpants. You're holding a Walgreens bag that is packed to the brim. Your appearance is a little disheveled, almost as if you were rushing, as your hair is pulled back, your glasses are almost falling off your face.

“Go change into something comfortable, you don’t want to be in work clothes with a migraine.” you chastise him and shoo him off to his bedroom.

Spencer holds his hands up in defeat and does as he’s told. Immediately scurrying into his room to change into something more comfortable.

You get to work while you’re in his apartment. You close all of his curtains, blocking out the bright sunlight. You make your way over to the air conditioning unit and turn it down to a crisp 66 degrees and turn the ceiling fan on. You go into the kitchen and start to unpack the Walgreens bag of goodies. You’ve brought a few freezable ice packs, an eye mask, and some over the counter pain killers. You brought them just in case, you weren’t sure if Spencer was someone who preferred medicine or not. You had no problem taking four ibuprofen pills but that was you.

Spencer opens the door and he's in sweats and a T-shirt. He sees you moving around his kitchen with ease, grabbing two mugs and making tea. You have some honey out and pour a healthy amount into each mug. Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you work.

“Go sit on the couch, I’m coming with a mug.” you direct him softly holding two mugs in your hands.

Spencer shuffles his feet over to the couch and plops down shutting his eyes tightly. You press the warm mug in his hand, setting yours on the coffee table. You move back to the kitchen to turn off the light and grab a sleep mask and the medicine.

“Drink this, it’ll make you feel better. I turned down your air conditioning and I brought a sleep mask for you, to help block out the light.” you tell him.

He nods and moves to drink the tea, it’s sweet from the honey but it does immediately relieve some pressure, at least mentally.

“I brought some ibuprofen; I take 800 milligrams or take my migraine medication to stop mine. But sometimes you just need really good cold sleep. Mine just make me nauseous, so I need the meds.”

Spencer shakes his head no, “I don’t want to take any pain killers, not right now anyway.” he whispers.

You nod, “That’s okay. Just finish your tea and then lay down. I’m gonna help you get some sleep okay?”

Spencer nods his head and takes a deep breath drinking from his mug. He feels awful, the pounding in his skull won’t stop.

“Is it always this awful?” he asked, looking at you with his wide eyes, brows turned down in a sad expression.

You rub his arm in affection, “Sometimes? Mine are triggered a lot by the weather or sometimes I don’t even know. I do know I’ve gotten optical migraines too, and those suck even more.”

He’s listening to you, but he’s not enjoying the facts. He can read about migraines all day long, but hearing from someone else the same experiences he has sucks.

“When did you start getting them?”

You hum in thought, “When I was thirteen... right before my momma left.”

“Did she get them a lot? You’re mom?” Spencer finishes his cup and sets it down.

You put a pillow on your lap and push Spencer down. You hand him the eye mask to put on. Spencer complies easily and his long legs dangle a little over the edge of the couch, but he’s comfortable. You run your hands lightly through Spencer’s short hair, like you’ve done before in the bookstore. Spencer hums contently.

“She did... Her’s were worse. Always in the bathroom puking from them. She’d have to be in bed all day until it ended.” you whisper.

“Are yours that bad?” Spencer’s voice is just as quiet to match yours. He’s relaxing into your touch, feeling the pressure lighten from his head.

“No, but I get worried sometimes when I get nauseous, ya know? I’m always worried they’re gonna get as bad as mommas did. And I can’t imagine being stuck in bed all day.” you said sadly.

Spencer’s quiet as you mention your mother. It reminds him of his own fear he’s been trying to avoid thinking about. He’s reminded of his doctor's visit, and it irritates him. He knows there is something happening with him, the way he feels his skull pulsating like his brain is trying to jump out of his body is reason enough.

It’s not psychosomatic. He knows it's not.

“You okay? I just felt you tense up.” you ask him softly.

“Fine, just...thinking.” he mumbles.

You give a soft chuckle, your soft hands still massaging his scalp gently. “I know it must be hard for you, being a genius and all, but I really need you to shut your brain off. Go to sleep alright?” you demanded gently.

He gives a scoff but tries to settle down. He focuses heavily on your hands and how soft it is. The couch starts to melt under him and your quiet hums, that he isn’t even sure that you know you’re doing, finally sending him off to sleep.

When Spencer finally wakes up, his headache is gone. He finally feels back to normal. He moves to remove his eye mask, but he finds the room is almost just as dark. His eyes adjust and he realizes he’s alone on the couch. Where you were is just a pillow and there’s a soft blanket laid over him and he smells something being cooked.

Spencer stretches his body and moves to sit up, looking into the kitchen. You’re quietly shuffling around. The only light being from the microwave above the stovetop. He can hear the sizzling of whatever you're cooking, it smells great.

You hear him moving around and turns to send him a smile, “How you feelin’?” you asked, tilting your head trying to assess him.

Spencer stands and makes his way into the kitchen, trying to find out what smells so good. “A lot better. I’ve had that headache for two days.”

Your brows shot up in surprise, “You should have told me sooner Spencer. I woulda helped.” you chastise him.

“Was away for work, couldn’t.” he informs making his way behind you to peer over your shoulder at the stove top.

“What are you making? It smells great.”

You straighten up a bit with a wide grin. “That would be my favorite comfort food, especially after feelin’ like shit. My very fatty, very southern, biscuits and gravy.” your accent seeps through, as you exaggerate it, trying to prove a point.

Spencer just snorts a laugh and moves back, “Is it almost done?”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve been awake for less than five minutes and you’re already starving.”

Spencer just ignores her comment looking at the stove top to check the time, it’s later than he imagined. “Is it really nine o clock? Shouldn’t you be at the bookstore?” he presses in concern.

You shake your head, “I called out; besides, I always work the night shift. Someone else can or we can handle being closed for one night.” you tell him casually.

“You could have left, really, I would have been fine.” He tries to tell you.

You shake your head and move to get the biscuits out of the oven. “Spencer really, it’s not a big deal. You called for help and I’m staying until you shoo me out, I wasn’t just gonna leave without saying anything.”

You shook your head in mild disbelief and went to make plates for both of them. Spencer just finds himself standing there gawking. You wanted to stay until you knew he was okay. He feels his heart clench at that, and he brushes it away. He doesn’t think he can handle whatever emotion is creeping in at the edges, cracking his carefully crafted foundation.

You gently smack his hand and nod to the counter. “Go sit down, it’s almost done.”

Spencer does as he’s told and moves to the other side of the counter and takes a seat on one of the stools. It doesn’t take much longer for you to plate the food and slide it across to him. You place one for yourself next to him and grab two glasses of water.

Spencer and you eat in amicable silence enjoying their meal. Then you break the silence.

“Have you seen anyone about your recent migraines?” you asked him.

Spencer’s silent as he paused eating. His body tenses up and you wonder if you have hit a sore spot.

“I saw a doctor and got an MRI done.” he said, voice tense.

“I’m guessing you didn’t like the results?” you prod treading cautiously.

“The results were nothing. There was nothing showing up in my brain... the doctor said it was psychosomatic.” he whispered, a bitter tone in his voice.

“Then it probably isn’t anything to worry so much about Spencer.” you said, moving to rub his back gently.

“It can’t be psychosomatic, I’m not- I'm not crazy.” he said firmly.

The tone was the most aggressive you’ve ever heard from Spencer and your eyebrows raised.

“Spencer, I’m not calling you crazy sweetheart.” you tell him calmly. “Are you, are you worried that you are?”

Spencer’s body is tense, and he covers his face with his hands. “Did you know schizophrenia is hereditary? That it shows up around your late twenties?”

“Oh, oh. ” you realized what his actual problem was now.

“Spencer, the odds of you having it are low. It can run in families but it’s more complicated than that.” you told him in a reassuring voice.

“I know that, but-” he stops himself, not looking at you.

“Spencer,” you said his voice soft and calm. “It’s okay. You’re okay . I promise.” you continue to rub his back reassuringly. “If you feel this intense about it, then get a second opinion.”

He nods, finally looking up at you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

You shake your head, “It’s something you’re worried about and it’s okay to voice that.”

Spencer moves and pulls you into a tight hug.

“Thanks for listening.” he murmured into your hair.

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Anytime.” you whisper.

The one after Emily’s funeral

You are outside Spencer’s door shuffling on your feet. You’ve been debating for the past fifteen minutes on whether you should even knock on his door.

You haven’t seen him in a month... you’re a little more than worried. If it wasn’t for the single word response texts you were getting from him, you’d think he was dead.

The rain pattering on the window of his apartment's hallway is the only background noise you have besides the buzzing of the fluorescents above you. You’re pacing back and forth debating on if this is a good idea or not. He would ask if he needed help, right? They were friends... He’s kind of the only real friend you've made since you came to Virginia. Well, besides Josie.

You take a deep centering breath and find your resolve. you knock on his door.

When Spencer emerges from his apartment, you’re taken aback. He only opens the door a crack, but it’s enough for you to see the state he’s in. His eyes are dark and rimmed red. He’s in rumpled up sweater and sweatpants. His hair is up in different directions, he looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. Not to mention the faint beard that’s growing in. His eyes find yours slowly, and he looks a bit taken aback and opens the door more.

“Oh Spencer, honey,” you step forward and pull him into a warm hug. You feel him melt into your touch.

“You look awful, what happened?” You’re blunt but Spencer doesn’t seem to mind it, he hasn’t let go to tell you otherwise.

Spencer’s been holed up in his apartment. When he’s not working, he just burrows away. Penelope and JJ have called a few times. Checking in on him. He’s kept those conversations short. He can’t find it in him to talk about Emily with his friends yet. Not when he can still feel the weight of Emily’s casket; it almost bears down on his back in a way that feels crippling.

Spencer’s so tired of losing people.

Elle

Gideon

Emily

How long until he loses the next person?

Your warm body settles his nerves, and he can feel the irritation that buzzed at the harsh edges of his own soul ease. Spencer knows he looks like a wreck; he feels like one. He’s been in pajamas all weekend and barely has left his couch. When he does find himself getting any sleep, the only image he sees is Emily. Which, if he thinks about it for too long, he’s going to start sobbing again.

“It’s a long story,” He finds himself barely able to say. His voice warbled and tiny.

You somehow always know when something's wrong, like there is a homing device in your brain that rings letting you know he needs a reprieve.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” you whisper as you rub soothing circles into his back, “I was coming to check on you, I just hadn’t seen you around in a while.”

“Could you stay here,” he asked you timidly. “Just, just for a little while.”

Spencer feels the fight leave his body; the argument built up that he was ready to unleash on anyone else. The prickles of irritation fog his head, almost turning into a migraine, seem to fade. The only thing left is exhaustion.

You seem to always help him sleep, if he’s lucky, it won’t be another nightmare. He’s having more nightmares than ever. He'd love just a dreamless sleep, anything besides the nightmares, the territory that can with his job.

He finally pulls back away from you and goes inside his apartment.

You follow Spencer looking around his home. It’s dark and surprisingly messy. Not how you’re used to seeing Spencer’s apartment. His books are open and scattered along the floor near his large armchair. There’s empty, or rather half drank, coffee mugs scattered along his bookshelf or coffee table. There’s a large duvet half draped over the couch. You assume that’s probably where Spencer has spent most of his time, and the pile of laundry you see resting in the half open laundry room.

It’s a depression cave.

Spencer sluggishly goes into the kitchen and grabs a pot of coffee, before he can pour it you are gently prying it from his hands.

“I think you’ve had plenty of caffeine.” you tell him softly.

He makes a face but doesn’t fight you on it.

“Go and take a hot shower, I’ll make you some tea alright? It’ll feel better than endless caffeine.” you tell him and gently push him out of the kitchen.

You wait for Spencer to disappear into his bedroom before you let out a sigh and look around his apartment. You had her work cut out, that was for sure.

You start by boiling a kettle of water and you start gathering the mugs from around the apartment. At least the ones in your immediate sight. You gather at least ten different mugs at various stages full of coffee. You put them in the sink first before moving on to looking for the chamomile that you know you’ve left here before for when he gets his migraines. You find it surprisingly quickly and grab it from the shelf where his coffee sits. You open it to find there’s only a few tea bags left. He must still be getting those migraines more than he lets on.

You grab one, and a clean mug from his cabinet and set it aside. Still waiting for the water to heat up. You move onto the sink that’s overflowing and rolls up your sleeves to get started. You give a quick rinse and gently scrub the dishes before piling them into the dishwasher. By the time you're done the hot water is ready and the dishwasher is full.

You wash your hands before making a cup of tea for him, making sure you add plenty of honey to accommodate his sweet tooth.

You're in the middle of changing out his garbage when you hear Spencer reappear. He shuffles lazily out of his room in new clothes. He’s in a large Doctor Who tee with the Tardis on it, and flannel pajama pants that don’t fully reach his ankles. He’s also put on clean socks, two different ones with silly patterns.

You give him a smile before handing him the mug of tea. “You look a lot better,” you said with a soft smile.

Spencer just gives a shrug before sipping his tea. you follow him to the couch, and he wraps the duvet around his shoulders, making himself look so much smaller for a man that towered over you with his height.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked him.

Spencer sighs and looks deep into his cup, like the tea would give him answers. Maybe if he believed in reading tea leaves and fortunes, but he wasn’t religious or superstitious by any means.

“I lost a close friend, and it just...it’s been tough.” he said.

“Oh Spencer,” you lean forward and hold one of his hands, “I’m so sorry. That- that can’t be easy.”

He cried so much; he would think he didn’t have any more tears left. The blurry vision foggy up the edges of his sight tells otherwise.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye...” he whispers out, trying to not sob again.

You take a deep breath, you give Spencer a sad look before you whispered, “Sometimes we don’t get to say goodbye.” you replied quietly.

“I’m so tired of people leaving with no warning-” he catches himself before he can finish, biting his tongue.

You don’t pry, just let’s him go through the motions, trying to comfort him how you can.

“I’m sorry Spencer.”

Spencer leans against you and closes his eyes, “I hate change.” he murmured.

You move your hand up to run through his hair gently, like you’ve done before.

“I don’t either.” you whispered.

Spencer grows quiet as you continue to stroke his hair. You hear his breathing finally settle and you know he’s asleep. You gently move to lay him down on the couch and go to work.

Spencer’s home needed a deep clean, something to make it at least more bearable to come home to so he’s not so overwhelmed.

You start with the laundry and work your way around the room as the washer and dryer run through load after load of clothes. The only spot you don’t feel comfortable touching is his books. That seemed like an organized chaos situation if you’ve ever seen one.

Spencer sleeps for hours, so long that you find yourself dozing off after you're done cleaning. You slide yourself back onto the couch and curl up in the corner. You just go to close your eyes for a moment, you won’t spend the night.

You dream of coffee, book pages, and a familiar purple scarf that makes its way in too.

The morning sun comes in through a small opening of Spencer’s curtains and washes over the couch, bathing you and Spencer in its light. The two are curled into each other under the duvet on the couch and if either of them woke up at any point in the night and curled closer to the other, they would never know.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

66 notes · View notes

sageworld · 1 day ago

Note

if ur doing req for other players not just paige fans u do the nsfw alphabet but for kk? also congrats on the lesbianism 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

NSFW alphabet • KK Arnold

A • Aftercare

okay so boom, after sex is a lot of small talk, about each others days, how basketballs going for her, how schools going for you. even when you’re super sleepy, falling asleep mid sentence if kks not ready for sleep yet she’ll try and get you to keep talking to her.

B • Body part

YOUR THIGHS, kk is obsessed with them. grabbing one while she drives, rubbing on them while she eats you out, leaving hickies all on them, she can’t get enough.

C • Cum

she prefers cumming in your mouth more than your fingers, thigh, strap or pussy. she loves grabbing on your hair when she’s cumming. same in turn, she loves you cumming in her mouth, dripping all over her face.

D • Dirty secret

okay this isn’t even a secret but kk is so baby. she loves being topped by you, she’s bottom 95% of the time, even when she’s using strap on you, you’ll be riding her and she’s fucking whimper listening to you praise her.

“feels so fuck good baby, you make me feel so good kk.” you moan out, squeezing her tits from above as you ride her strap like no tomorrow. “oh my god kk, i’m gonna cum.” and she’s just a whimpering, moaning, stuttering mess while holding your hips

E • Experience

kks been with her fair share of girls before, she’s had her one nights, serious relationship or two, she knows what she’s doing & even if it’s your first wlw relationship she’s more than willing to help you learn.

F • Favorite position

she’s a ✂️ lover through and through, she likes being on top with this though. she loves watching your smaller body fall apart under her and being able to control the pace.

G • Goofy

pleaseeee this girl is hilarious, if you wanna top her when she wants to top you or vice versa she will straight up “girl boom” you and just start doing whatever she wants, (with consent ofc) making you giggle the whole way through with random little meme references.

“kk you got cum on my dress.” you whined, you guys decided on a quickie before leaving to meet up with friends at the bar, we’ll kk insisted she needed an orgasm or she would be nagging you all night to leave early. “shhh, it’s okay baby girl no one has to know.” she giggles, caressing your face from in between her thighs.

H • Hair

like i said on the paige alphabet, WE DO NOT CARE :P

I • Intimacy

while she can be serious there’s times where she locks in, whispering how much she loves you & couldn’t imagine her life with out you all while your in between her legs, a face full of pussy. she’s be playing with your hair, legs shaking, eyes slammed up with her head thrown back speaking about you like some type of goddess before crumbling apart to your tongue.

J • Jack off

she gets really shy about it but she does it often during her time away, often asking you for a picture of video when she’s gone.

New Message:

Kk<3; baby i know it’s really late for you but i need something.

you already know what she’s referring too, this falling into your regular schedule when she’s gone, you’re surprised she didn’t text sooner actually.

you; give me one second pooks

kk<3; i’ve been thinking about you all day baby, i’m so wet rn.

her words make you shiver, thinking about your poor baby having to take care of herself.

you; i wish you were here baby.

*1 attachment image

K • kink

def has a marking kink, loves seeing you covered in her hickeys, clothes, fuck it shes even gonna put her bonnet on you. she just loves letting others know your hers.

L • location

she loves your room, it’s so cozy and always smells so good. your pillows feel so soft under her head when you ride her strap & your blankets are so warm when you’re all done, naked and wrapped up in them.

M • motivation

one thing that gets her going like nothing else is seeing you in your momo, she loves your granny gowns, the sight of your perky nipples under the fabric knowing all that’s under is a dainty pair of panties.

N • no

you’re not strapping her up, simple as day. she is a bottom but it’s just not for her. she doesn’t like the feeling of it.

O • oral

she’s such a giver, but loves both. the feeling of your nose rubbing against her puffy clit while your tongue fucks her hole has her on a different planet. feeling your squirt fall down her chin? she’s in heaven.

P • pace

when Kk isn’t bottom, she’s fucking the shit out of you, rough and demanding. it’s usually like that when she’s jealous or had a bad day. when she’s bottom it’s slow and sensual, loving and tender.

Q • quickie

she loves them! they help her get through her day. she loves them anywhere, the car, your room, her room, at the bathroom in a party. she can get so needy at any time and just needs it out of her system.

R • risk

while she’s willing to do it just about anywhere somewhat out of view, she does get nervous and prefers doing it in the comfort of privacy. the riskiest you guys ever did was in a target parking lot at night when she ran out of tru fru.

S • stamina

this girl is fucking all night. when she has time she won’t stop. your pussy will be puffy and abused & she won’t stop until you start showing signs of discomfort.

“you alright, mama?” she comes up from between your legs, tears running down your face just seconds ago you crying for her to stop. “s’just too much.” you breath. “oh, im sorry baby.” she puts her face in your neck. “let me clean you up.” she rolls out the bed, going to grab a towel.

T • toy

you guys love your toys!! her favorite to use on you is a strap that has a vibrator for her attached. your favorite to use on her is a small blue vibrator, she doesn’t like anything in her but your fingers and tongue so she always reacts so pretty to it.

U • unfair

when it’s top!kk it’s so different. she’s mean and rough. she’ll edge you for what feels like hours.

“why dont you have your other girlfriend make you cum?” she hovered over your body, three fingers deep in you. “she’s not my girlfriend kk, only you i promise.” it had been at least 30 minutes since you first felt the tightening in your tummy, kks touch was gone as quick as it came. “i don’t know, seemed like it.” she pulled her fingers out, denying your release once again. “kk, please baby.” you whine. “i’ll think about it.” fingers ghosting your clit.

V • volume

she’s so loud, so vocal. she’s not afraid to voice what she wants either which you always appreciated. sometimes when you guys are playing rock paper scissors you find yourself having to cover her mouth because it’s so late and you don’t wanna wake your neighbors.

W • wild card

when you met kk, you guys were one night standing after a sigma kai party but, when you woke up in her bed and tried to sneak out she woke up. offering you a shower, some clothes that weren’t your micro dress and heels and some breakfast in exchange for your number.

X • x-ray

coochie meow meow 😸

Y • yearning

she’s so needy, she always wants you. it can be more than just sexually, she loves skin to skin, the feeling of having you so close always itches that special part in her brain

Z • zzz (sleepy)

yeah no, like in the start she does not wanna go to sleep. she tries to get you to stay up with her and talk. on the rare occasion she is sleepy, she’s fighting it, mumbling out random things to you before eventually falling asleep.

#lesbian #kk arnold smut #kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #uconn wcbb #uconn #uconn wbb #paige x azzi #paige bueckers smut #paige buckets #paige bueckers #azzi fudd smut #azzi fudd #ice brady #aubrey griffin #smut #lesbian smut #kate martin #caitlin clark

75 notes · View notes

rizlowwritessortof · 3 days ago

Text

Jacklesversebingo Square 4!!

Written for Jacklesversebingo2024. The prompt for this one: TV Remote - Air Freshener - Rubber Duck. Yeah. 😁😂 (Included in the fic in bold) Just silly and fluffy!

Your week at work has been shit, and the guys are getting on your nerves with their constant bickering. And then you walk into the shower room, and BOOM.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1527

Warnings: Temper Tantrum? No smut (that's a warning for some people 😂)

Divider from @strangergraphics-archive

You pull into the bunker garage and just sit there for a minute, basking in the feeling of just being home. Work this week has been a bitch – one cluster-fuck after another, a boss that loves to pile the responsibility for untangling said cluster-fucks squarely on your desk, and the stress has taken a toll. Your neck, shoulders and back are in knots, a dull headache throbs at your temples, and you just want to grab some food, your pajamas, and soak in a hot, fragrant bubble bath until it all melts away.

You walk into the library, and a mouth-watering aroma makes your stomach growl. Apparently Dean is cooking, and you kick off your shoes, wandering into the kitchen. “Hey, there she is,” he greets you, gesturing to the table, where Sam is already seated and a plate waits for you. “Made you a steak and baked potato. Want a beer?”

You inhale appreciatively as he deposits the food on your plate, giving him a tired, grateful smile. “Thank you, Dean. This smells wonderful.” He grins, that little boy look in his eyes that he gets when you praise him for anything, and it makes you happy. And the little kiss he plants on your lips doesn’t hurt, either.

You eat, and chat, and complain about work, listen to the boys rail about what an asshole your boss is, and how he should appreciate you more. It’s nice, and comforting, and you feel a little of the tension leaving you.

And then the bickering starts.

They haven’t had a hunt in three weeks, and they’re getting on each others’ nerves. It’s been going on all week, along with your work issues, and you just don’t have the patience for it. Not tonight. So you quietly get up from the table, put your dishes in the sink, and head for your room. You shed your work clothes and put on your fluffy robe, put your hair up and head for the shower room, ready for that lovely escape from your annoying reality.

The door to the shower room is closed, so you open it and walk in, stopping mid-step. You completely forgot about the mess in there. Dean is a neat freak when it comes to the kitchen, and Sam is usually pretty clean. But, for some reason, they just always assume you will take care of the bathroom. The last few days you have just silently refused to do anything about it, and it has slowly gotten completely out of control.

There are wet towels on the floor, or draped over every available surface, and random pieces of clothing have been left here and there, including a pile of bloody, messy clothes from the last hunt. Both sinks are covered with toothpaste and whiskers from shaving. The room smells like something large and hairy has crawled in there and died after eating a Mexican restaurant.

You stand there for a minute, your temper coming to a full boil before you turn around and leave the room, marching towards the library where you can hear the brothers still sniping at each other. You walk up to the table, grab the book nearest you, and slam it to the floor, the sound echoing through the room. The boys both look at you, eyes wide and mouths open, and you unload.

“Why is it that you two can manage to clean up after yourselves in every room in this place except the bathroom? Is this a hotel? Do I look like I work for housekeeping? I just wanted to run a hot bubble bath, soak and relax in peace, but oh my god the smell in there… If you guys are going to binge on burritos, then please for the love of god at least maybe buy some air fresheners! And I am not cleaning up your disgusting sinks or picking up your dirty clothes and wet towels, are you fucking toddlers?”

“Sorry, meant to clean up in there, but…” Dean started, but you hold up a hand, cutting him off.

“Another thing – I have listened to you two bickering like a couple of old ladies all week. And when I try to escape that, go watch TV, you” (you point at Dean) “come in and grab the remote and start channel surfing at every commercial, and then I always miss half of my show because it’s already started again by the time you go back to it. And you always expect me to spend my whole weekend doing the laundry. What did you do before I lived here? I am not your maid, I work my ass off just as much as you do, and I’m done.”

You turn and march off to your room, throwing your robe on the bed and digging clothes from your dresser. The guys are still sitting there in shock when you come back out, fully clothed and jacket on. “I’m going to town. Keep your phones on, I’m gonna need a ride home later.” You storm out, climbing into your car and heading for the bar in Lebanon, fully intending to get shit-faced.

Several hours later, you weave your way out to the parking lot of the bar where Dean sits waiting for you in the Impala. It’s only around 10:30 and you’re tipsy, but you’re not fuzzy-headed drunk, your tirade from earlier in the night completely clear in your mind. Yes, you had reason to be frustrated, but the boys hadn’t deserved your temper tantrum.

You climb into the car, feeling Dean’s eyes on you as you settle in and close the door. You can’t bear to look at him yet, and he doesn’t say anything, just backs out and heads for the bunker. You both go inside, and Sam is waiting as you reach the bottom of the stairs.

You move past him and turn to face them both as Dean joins his brother. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve…” Dean shakes his head as he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

“We’re sorry.”

Sam speaks up next. “We have been kinda taking you for granted. We didn’t mean to.”

You reach out a hand to take his, giving it a squeeze. “Forgive me for yelling at you?” you ask them softly. Sam joins the hug for a second, dropping a kiss to the top of your head before smiling at you and leaving you and Dean alone.

Dean bends to give you a gentle kiss. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Okay? Now I need you to come with me.”

You let him lead you down the hall to the shower room, and he opens the door, waving you by with one arm. You step into the room, which now looks clean on a molecular level. The tile shines, the porcelain sparkles, the chrome fixtures gleam. The air smells clean and fresh, and you finally remember to close your mouth. “You cleaned. I mean, you really cleaned. This is amazing.”

“Yeah. You were right, we were pretty disgusting. Sorry, babe.” He pulls you into his arms again and hugs you tight. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, I’ll be there in a minute.” You squeeze him back and head for the kitchen to grab water before going to the bedroom.

You are down to your bra and panties when Dean comes into the room, and he grabs your fluffy robe from the hook on the back of the door on his way in. He approaches, tossing the robe onto the bed and reaching behind you to unhook your bra, his eyes on yours as he brushes the straps from your shoulders and takes it off. Then he goes to one knee in front of you, slipping his fingers into the top of your panties to pull them down your legs, letting you balance with one hand on his shoulder as he lets you step out of them. He stands, grabbing your robe, and holds it for you. “Put it on, I need you to come with me,” he says softly.

He leads you back to the shower room, all the way to the back, and a smile replaces your confusion as you see what waits for you.

The large claw foot tub is full of steaming water, mounds of bubbles floating on the surface, a rubber duck perched on top. There is a stack of clean, fluffy towels nearby, and the table at the head of the tub and the shelf on the wall behind it are laden with candles, the space full of their flickering light. You can’t help but giggle at the duck, and Dean grins as you stretch up to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you close for another lingering kiss. “So – are you gonna get in?”

You step back, letting your robe slip to the floor. “Are you gonna get in with me?”

“Hell, yeah. But I get to play with the duck.”

“Fine with me. I’m gonna have better things to play with,” you tease as you move close to unzip his jeans.

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel

@darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5

@melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog

@savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain

@undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie

@tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic

@kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma

@ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1

@winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed

@sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester @yeehawbitchs

@emily-winchester @hobby27 spnbaby-67 @zepskies @ladysparkles78

@alwaystiredandconfused @just-another-busyfangirl @muhahaha303 @deansimpalababy @kr804573

@suckitands33 @ej13928 @lmhf1

#meltdown #jacklesversebingo24 #dean fic #dean fluff #i would let him play with my rubber duck #just sayin'

27 notes · View notes

cakerybakery · 1 day ago

Text

Lucifer liked the rain. He got to wear his favouritest duck boots, bright yellow with little cheery eyes and a painted on beak. If he hopped, they made a squeaky noise like a quack.

Hop. ‘Quack’. Hop. ‘Quack’. Hop. ‘Quack’.

His mom always let him wear them on rainy days.

Taking a big jump he splashed in the big mud puddle in a dip in the yard.

He giggled as the muddy water washed over his splash suit.

“What are you doing?” Asked a small voice from the other side of the hedge separating his backyard from the neighbour’s just before the fence began.

A boy about his age in a blue rain jacket was watching him.

“Splashing.” He hopped in the puddle to show the new boy. “This puddle is very muddy. It makes big splashes,” Lucifer’s giggled showing off his dirty boots, “the stickiest mud!”

The boy nodded and looked to his own empty backyard with a frown. “I don’t think my new backyard is very good.”

Lucifer waded out of the puddle and went to the hedge to take a look. He shook his head solemnly. “No. You don’t have a mud puddle. Did you want to play in my backyard?”

He pointed to the middle of the yard, “I have a swing slider majigger climber.” He point to the play structure. “We can play on it and splash in my puddle.”

“Okay!” The boy brightened, but he wasn’t sure how to get over the hedge.

Bending down Lucifer showed him a hole in the hedge he used to go over to the other backyard when his ball rolled through.

The other boy was a bit bigger than him though and got a bit stuck. Lucifer grabbed his hand and pulled. As the boy tumbled through the fence and landed on him, Lucifer got a look at his golden eyes.

“Ohh, pretty. Your eyes are the shiniest ever.”

The boy blinked, he tried to cross his eyes and tried to look at his own eyes before laughing, “oh right. I can’t see my eyes.” He crossed them again and stuck his tongue out.

Lucifer laughed and made a face as well.

Not to be out done, the other boy tugged on his ears and made random noises.

Back and forth they made face until Lucifer got bored and grabbed the boy’s hand, dragging him ran off to play on the slide and splash in puddles.

Eventually someone poked their head out of the boy’s house and looked around frantically, calling.

The other boy looked up from the mud pie he was making with a confused look. He stood and looked around. “Oh, I think my mom is calling me. I should go.”

“Okay,” Lucifer’s waved as the boy ran off. “Bye!”

The other boy paused at the hedge and turned around, “I’ll come play tomorrow!”

Lucifer nodded and kept playing with his house until his mom called him in for a snack.

As she helped get him out of his splash clothing he told her all about the boy next door and playing.

“Oh, yes. I saw the moving van outside.” She smiled and dried his hair with a towel. “What’s the boy’s name?”

Lucifer frowned and thought for a moment. “I dunno.”

“Adaaaaaam!” Lucifer whined, as he draped himself dramatically over the hedge, ignoring the scratching twigs of the plant. “Come play with me!”

Adam rolled his eyes. “I have to do my piano lessons. I can play with you later.”

“Uuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhh! Buuuut yooouuuu haaate piaaaano!” Lucifer was so bored! He was grounded from tv and video games for the rest of the week, but he was still allowed to play outside with Adam. And now Adam had to do his piano lesson, it wasn’t fair!

“Then you shouldn’t have called Miss Sera a dumb head.” Adam smirked. He hadn’t been caught calling her a poop head and was giddy about it.

Lucifer stuck his tongue out, “maybe I’ll just get a new best friend then.”

Adam pushed him off the hedge, then ducked down and grabbed Lucifer foot, yanking off the shoe as Lucifer shrieked.

“There. Now you can’t stop being my best friend cause I have your shoe!”

He stalked off to his house and Lucifer looked down at his bare foot.

“What was that about?”

Adam didn’t talk to him for a whole day. Not until Lucifer gave him his cupcake at lunch and apologized for saying he would get a new best friend.

He accepted the cupcake, gave back Lucifer’s shoe, and stalked up to Miss Sera. Adam tapped her on the arm and called her a poopy head.

That night Adam opened the window of his bedroom across from Lucifer’s.

“I’m grounded now too.”

Adam held Lucifer’s year book high above his head and shoved Lucifer back as Lucifer pushed on Adam’s face and kicked.

“Fuck off, asshole!” Lucifer yelled.

“Screw you! Girlfriend thief!” Adam yelled back.

Lucifer kicked Adam’s shin and they tumbled to the ground. He shoved Adam’s head into the dirt. “You weren’t even dating her!”

“Why would she ever go for shrimp like you!?” Adam rolled them and pinned Lucifer hands.

“Why would Lilith like a meat head mountain like you?!”

They rolled and screamed and cussed. Either getting the better as they they play wrestled for too many years not to know each other’s moves.

Suddenly, Adam was yanked off and Lucifer was hauled up as well. They were marched from the track field where the fight began, up to the front office and sat in chairs inside the office doors by the gym teacher.

They shot barbed insults under their breath at each other and without the knowledge of the half deaf elderly secretary at the front desk.

Adam pinched Lucifer and Lucifer kicked Adam.

They were seething.

“You know.” A voice drawled from the doorway. Just out of sight of the old bat. “Lilith is a lesbian and doesn’t like either of you.”

“FUCK OFF, MICHAEL!” They both shouted and drew the attention of everyone in the office as Michael took off laughing.

“Go to hell.” Adam hissed.

“Douchebag.” Lucifer leaned up to hiss back.

“You can keep your shoe.” Adam shoved his face into Lucifer’s. “Cause fuck you!”

“Fuck you more!”

“Fuck me!” Adam cried out as Lucifer hit his prostate. “Oh GOD!”

Everyone in the whole dorm building could probably hear Adam but they didn’t care. Adam was tight and warm. He tasted like the wine coolers Lucifer had snuck into their dorm room and still smelled like the gym from his workout earlier.

This was the best day of Lucifer’s fucking life.

Better than when Eve gave him head their senior year of high school.

Better than acing his fucking midterm the week before.

They’d been watching some cheesy movie and having a couple of drinks to celebrate passing said midterm when Adam started to mock the movie.

“Pfft, as if anyone falls in love at first sight.” He leaned on Lucifer’s shoulder, placed a hand to his forehead and spoke dramatically. “Oh Lucifer! I have tripped and fallen. As I look into your eyes I can’t help but also fall in looooove with you.”

Lucifer leaned back and caused Adam actually fall into his lap.

He laughed at the surprised look on Adam’s face.

“Well, I don’t know about my eyes, but yours are still as pretty as the first day we met.”

Adam snorted and shoved a hand into Lucifer’s face and pushed him down. “That was like fifteen years ago. I bet you can’t even remember what my eyes look like.”

“Gold. Duh. Even in the rain they shined.” Lucifer licked Adam hand to try and get him to let go. Instead, Adam rolled closer and onto Lucifer’s chest.

“What did you say?” Adam’s brows knitted together and his mouth was a hard line as he looked into Lucifer’s eyes.

“Uhh. That your eyes were gold and shiny?”

Adam’s face turned pink and his honey eyes shimmered in the light of the lamp on the table between their beds.

“They still are.”

Lucifer gasped as Adam pressed his lips to his. He closed his eyes and moaned into the kiss. Electricity surged and he clung to Adam. His fingers twisting in the shirt to keep Adam close.

They tore into each other’s clothing. Perhaps it was the wine coolers lowering their inhibitions. Perhaps it was the feeling of years of memories building to this moment. What it was they wasted no more time.

For a second, as Adam was on top of him, Lucifer wondered what exactly they were going to do. How far? Who would top if they went that far.

Then Adam rolled them, he kicked off his pants and boxers, spread his legs, and nervously ask Lucifer to be gentle.

Lucifer did his best.

He nearly fell off his twin bed yanking his drawer on the bedside table open to grab the lube. Lucifer didn’t know what he was doing, listening to Adam for stops and goes and more lube you bastard!

Then he was losing his virginity to his best friend since they were five years old and Adam moved in next door.

Adam was loud, he cussed and moaned, he called out Lucifer’s name like a prayer.

He clung to Lucifer shoulders, wrapped his legs around Lucifer’s hips, and thank fuck Adam wasn’t a girl cause Adam didn’t let go until Lucifer came in him. Adam own pleasure spilled between them.

Lucifer hoped this wasn’t a one time thing.

They stared at the piece of paper together.

Equally stupid grins plastered on each other their faces. It was just a copy, but still, Lucifer wanted to get it framed.

They held hands the whole trip to their new home.

Lucifer unlocked the door and held it open for Adam, “After you, mister Morningstar.”

Adam picked him up bridal style. “How about together, mister Morningstar?” Lucifer held onto his new, as of twenty minutes ago at the courthouse, husband and let himself be carried over the threshold.

They closed on the house a few weeks before and had spent the last few weeks slowly moving as they also planned the wedding which was to take place in the backyard in another month.

Lucifer and Adam had agreed though they wanted to be married when they actually officially moved into their new house, so when the last of their things was loaded into a moving truck they stopped at city hall and got it done.

The wedding was just a ceremony and celebration anyway. The real deal was signing the paperwork.

Lucifer reached up, wrapped his arms around Adam’s neck, and kissed his husband.

As he did the heavens opened up and the began to pour.

The two of them scrambled back out to the van to start bringing in boxes.

Racing from the truck into the house Lucifer slipped on a puddle on the steps. Adam grabbed him and caught the box of dishes.

On the front steps of the their new home Lucifer started to laugh. Adam was on top of him and his eyes shined as warm as honey and as bright as gold. He reached up and pulled Adam down for kiss.

Lucifer loved the rain.

#hazbin hotel adam #adamsapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam x lucifer #guitarduck #my Adamsapple fanfiction

27 notes · View notes