#up until she finds out they are made up of her friends parts

[suguann]

✎. you aren’t happy about your roommate’s party until you meet the attractive guy down the hall.

tags. fem!reader, future installments will contain smut, age difference, original characters, college student reader, one-night stands, angst, dirty talk, hurt/comfort, size kink, unplanned pregnancy

featuring. simon

It’s your first semester living off-campus, and Finn is boundlessly enthusiastic about all things that involve cheap liquor and crowded spaces, even more so now that she roped you into being her roommate after promising to split the cost of furnishing an apartment that’s probably too expensive for two undergrads working part-time, low-pay jobs.

You don’t like parties, really. 

Movies and the social connotations surrounding parties have always made them seem like some monumental proverbial chip in your college experience; the real thing, once the bright-eyed shine of trying something new wears off, is more or less a bunch of random people packed into a room like sardines who abate their social awkwardness with alcohol and loud music.

So, no, you can’t exactly say that you enjoy the thought of Finn’s friends (and everyone she hardly smiles at) cramping up your already tiny apartment—especially when one of them is Miller from one of your business classes, who gives you the creeps. 

And leave it to Finn to invite him, anyway.

"Now he knows where I live," you grumble into your bowl of cereal—something probably too sweet and (definitely) full of sugar for breakfast.

Finn shrugs, not at all worried for you, as she pours more sticky orange batter into the hot pan on the stove. "The guy has a crush on you. I think it's cute. And he seems harmless."

“Harmless until I end up in a ditch somewhere.”

You don’t have to see her face to know she’s doing that thing with her mouth whenever you say something she thinks is ridiculous. “If you’d agree to split the Netflix bill, you wouldn’t be stuck watching horror movies. Why do you only own horror movies, again?”

"That's easy for you to say.” You roll your eyes, ignoring her question. “You don’t have to sit by him every week.”

(As if that would ever convince her to change her mind.)

"Ow! Shit!"

You look up right before Finn drops a steaming pancake onto her hand and rushes to the sink to run it under cold water. The mutilated pancake lay forgotten with the others that didn't survive her last several attempts.

"Finn, I think this is unnecessary," you tell her after swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Can't you do something more practical? Like sticking a note to their door?"

Finn looks up from the sink, her wild, red curls bouncing from the movement. "Oh, come on! Don't chicken out now. I've already made fifteen of these things." She points her pink spatula at the tower of not-quite pumpkin-shaped pancakes on the counter. "Plus, who's going to turn down free food? Now, go put on your costume and hand these out."

You shovel another spoonful of cereal into your mouth, scowling. "I'm not wearing the costume you picked out. It's so...inappropriate."

You’re pretty sure Finn picked out your costume from the dicey sex shop down the street rather than an actual Halloween store—the amount of mesh compared to solid fabric only solidifies the theory.

Finn finally turns the water off and gives you a stern look, amused eyes set under a furrowed brow. "I can find the one you own in the children's section at Costco."

You roll your eyes. "I really don’t feel like flashing my tits to the neighbors while offering them breakfast.”

She grins, wide and teasing. "You have nice tits, though.”

"Yeah, I'm sure the old woman down the hall would love to see her neighbor in the equivalent of a thong and nipple coverings at the start of her day." You don’t think you’d ever be able to look her in the eye again.

"Miss Yado is cool,” Finn says, returning to the stove to continue cooking. “She'll probably just tell you to wear a jacket or something."

You pick up your empty bowl and lean over the counter to put it in the sink. "I didn't know you talked to our neighbors."

Finn shrugs, flipping the pancake in the skillet. "She normally walks her dog while I'm heading to class. I stop to talk to her sometimes when I'm not running late." 

“Oh?”

She shoots you a wry grin over her shoulder. "You'd know the neighbors too if you didn't scowl all the time."

In response, the corners of your mouth tip down. "I don’t scowl."

"Now, would you go change? These are getting cold." 

Several minutes later, you come out of your room wearing the same costume you'd worn the past two years. Finn pouts when she sees you forwent the one she had picked out. However, she doesn’t do more than shake her head and shove a handful of food containers full of pancakes into your hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just remember to smile,” she tells you before the front door closes behind you.

You start on your end of the hall, going door to door and handing out the small containers. The whole time, you’re wondering why Finn couldn’t do this herself, considering you’re hardly a people person as is. Thankfully, nobody seemed too annoyed about being bothered on a Saturday morning—only one neighbor shut the door in your face before you could say anything.

But it’s fine. You’re not going to let it ruin your day. Plus, you only have one person left.

There’s a small pit of nerves in your stomach when you knock this time—half expecting another door to the face. What you don’t expect, however, is the tall and imposing guy who answers.

Who also doesn’t appear to be any less annoyed.

Your mouth opens and closes helplessly, all words stuck to the back of your tongue, watching as stray water droplets drip down from his wet hair and travel down the side of his face before dispersing into the dark stubble lining his jaw.

You stare. And stare. Eyes, most likely, bugging unattractively out of your head.

How did Finn never mention the super hot neighbor who lived six doors down the hall?

He gives you a once-over, and part of you suddenly wishes you’d gone with Finn's costume instead. Only because here, at that moment, you’re willing to admit that maybe the one you have on looks like a six-year-old picked it out—especially when this guy, who is way out of your league, scrutinizes it for a second longer, mostly your frilly crew socks. 

"Can I help you?" he asks, his voice low as if he hasn’t been awake for long.

You blink, mild embarrassment rushing through you from the sudden realization that you’ve been standing there and saying absolutely nothing.

"Hi, um, I'm your neighbor from down the hall. My roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party, and we're inviting people in the building." Annoyance slowly melts off his face.

"Thank you,” heavily tattooed arms cross over his broad chest, and he leans against the door frame (and you definitely don’t stare at how his biceps seem to strain against his black t-shirt). “But I think I'm getting a little old for parties."

The corners of your mouth tip up in what’s the beginning of a smile.

"Okay, sure. You're, what, twenty-five?"

It’s a stupid joke, and for a moment, you panic, afraid he’d been unimpressed, but then his lips quirked slightly. "Not quite. Nice costume. Let me guess, fairy?"

"Witch, actually. I’ve always gone with something more original," you babble and bite your lip before you can say something else.

"It’s cute." 

Cute?

You’re unsure if you should feel elated that he thinks so or self-conscious—that he might be making fun of you—so you settle with a mumbled “thanks.”

"So, what's with the container?" he asks, nodding toward your hands.

"Oh, um, my roommate thought she could bribe people with food to come to the party." Truthfully, it’s to prevent potential complaints from the neighbors, but you decide not to mention that part, although you think he knows by the way the corner of his mouth subtly lifts.

You give him the plastic container and watch as he stares into it with a furrowed brow. "It's a... pancake?"

"Er, yeah. My roommate likes to go above and beyond for everything."

"What's it supposed to be?" he asks, glancing up at you.

"Um, a pumpkin..."

You look between him and the container and find Finn had accidentally mixed up her presentable pancakes with the throwaways. And the pumpkin shape is...well, it isn't.

"Ah, I see," he nods, his slowly drying hair falling onto his forehead. "That makes more sense."

You can’t stop the giggle that bubbles to the surface. "You think you can do better?"

"Yes, actually," he grins back, all cocksure, with a flash of white teeth. "Maybe I’ll bring some over some time."

"I won't tell her you said that." However, you can't wait to rib Finn later.

"Right, it probably wouldn't make a very good first impression." Then he sticks out his free hand, "Simon."

You shyly shake it—ignoring the little skip in your chest at how big his hand is compared to yours—and tell him your name, too.

His eyes flicker down to his watch, and he curses under his breath. "Well, it was nice meeting you. But I have to finish getting ready for work."

Only then do you take note of the tactical pants and heavy boots he’s wearing.

When you meet his gaze again, you find amusement there, and you consider, with a new rush of mortification, that it probably seemed like you’d been openly eyeing his crotch. 

You clear your throat, the back of your neck feeling hot, and you pointedly pretend your voice doesn’t hitch when you breathe a soft, tremulous, "Okay, sure.”

"Tell your roommate I said thanks for breakfast."

"Yeah, I'll tell her. Um, I guess I'll see you around." No longer able to make eye contact with him, you turn away and begin walking (though it’s probably closer to running) toward your door.

And you definitely don’t look over your shoulder to see if he’s still standing there.

You spend most of the party hanging out near the front door, quietly hoping Simon might show up—even though it seems unlikely. After all, he did mention that he’s too old for parties, and a small, insecure part of you wonders if it was his polite way of turning you down.

"The guy was running late,” Finn had tried to reassure you. “I'm sure he was thinking about how to beat expressway traffic before the lunch hour rush hit. Not about the crazy lady in a witch costume running away from his door."

That was the initial deciding factor between your witch costume and the one Finn’s been trying to force you into—only so you don’t have to hear another person call you cute just to seem nice.

And leave it to Finn to jump at the opportunity to help you get ready, though she nearly freaked out when you popped into your joint bathroom with an old tube of mascara that you rummaged out of your nightstand.

"Do you know how many germs are probably on that thing?" Finn’s nose scrunched up as she threw it away in the waste bin near the toilet. "Please tell me you haven't used it since you bought it?"

You had rolled your eyes. "Probably not."

Finn sighed, then smiled. "Luckily for you, I own more than a crusty mascara tube." 

You were about to argue, but when Finn told you to sit on the toilet lid with a dangerously sharp liner pen, you’d clenched your jaw instead, unsure what you were more scared of when Finn brought the pen close to your face: that your friend might potentially stab you in the eye or that you’d come out of the bathroom with raccoon eyes.

Thankfully, when Finn finally finished, neither was the case, except the number of looks you’ve been receiving anytime someone stops in the kitchen to get more drinks is something you hadn’t anticipated—especially when one of them happens to be Miller.

You’ve been avoiding him and his overly bare chest from the moment he walked through your front door. It grew more challenging after Finn left your side (the traitor) to talk to a guy you’ve seen her hanging around with on campus a few times. 

And with the apartment feeling smaller than it already is, you’re only option is to blend in with the group hanging around your kitchen island.

You’ll be fine, Finn said.

Right, you think as you adjust the scanty tube top under your mesh shirt, trying to cover more of yourself with what little fabric you have at your disposal, and you wonder if it’s too late to change—

A knock at the door makes you perk up, regardless of how noisy the room is, with eardrum-shattering music and loud college students. You pull it open, expecting to see Simon on the other side, only to be disappointed when it’s one of Finn’s friends and her girlfriend instead.

"Hey, Roma." You realize you probably sound rude and attempt to give them your best smile—which is more or less a grimace.

Roma smooths out her extremely short referee-style dress. "Sorry, we're late! I couldn't remember where you lived. There are way too many blue apartment buildings around here..."

Everything she’s saying goes in one ear and out the other when you spot Simon stepping out of the door to the stairway across the hall. You hold your breath, waiting for him to look up from his phone.

But he keeps walking.

"Uh, yeah," you say distractedly before speeding up the conversation. "Hey, Finn is in the living room, but I'll see you guys inside, okay? I need to do something."

You step around them to catch up to Simon, which you learn isn’t easy in heels. So you call his name, hoping he hears you and smiling when he turns toward you. And you don’t miss how his gaze trails down your body slowly.

It makes something inside you quiver as you nervously play with the short hem of your skirt.

“Hey,” he says, sounding every bit as tired as he looks—his shirt from that morning now wrinkled with bluish hollows under his eyes—though he tries to hide it with what you think is an attempt at a smile.

And your cheeks burn because you feel guilty. 

"Hey," you repeat dumbly. 

Your eyes lower as his smile melts into one of faint amusement at your lack of tact. You fidget, shifting from one foot to the other. Maybe, you think, you should have let him walk into his apartment before you could embarrass yourself further today.  

After a moment, you meet his gaze again. 

"Uh, I just wanted to see if you still wanted to come over…But I imagine you're probably not up for it, so I’ll leave—"

Simon surprises you when he shrugs his shoulders and says, "Sure."

Your mouth gapes, unsure if you heard him correctly. "Wh-what?"

"I just need to shower and change, and then I'll be over. Okay?"

"I... yeah, okay," your nod is shy, trying not to betray eagerness.

A lazy grin stretches across his mouth. "Nice costume, by the way," he disappears into his apartment before he can witness how his words make you flush.

And you walk back to your apartment feeling a little more floaty than when you left.

masterlist

[0mg-bird]

bombshell of the bau was soo good, I need more of those two pls!!!

Aghhhhhh thanks! Okay, upon popular demand, here’s a part two.

Bombshell Of The BAU~ Part II

Spencer Reid x Fem!Agent Reader

Summary: With all the attention you get, it’s hard to hide something as scandalous as what you and Spencer have going on. Often times, it comes down to stolen moments and too close calls.

But you don’t expect the team to find out the way they do.

Warnings: Tehehehehe. Okay, 18+ content, suggestive material, smut, MDNI, um they’re so cute! Morgan being a c!ck block on like too many occasions, slight voyeurism kinda?? Exhibitionism kinda? Two second mention of Reid’s addiction. Reader gets hurt by UbSub but she’s fine. Idk, enjoy.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Emily asks as she walks with you down the hallway.

You pull the clip from your hair so it softly falls down around your face. A sigh leaves your pouty lips that are long gone of lipstick.

“After the day I had? I’d much rather take a very long shower, order room service on Hotch’s dime and watch Sex and The City.”

Emily laughs. “That sounds pretty perfect to me. Hey, did Morgan really make you crawl up in that attic?”

A shiver runs through you. “I don’t want to relive that trauma.” You claim.

She rubs your arm affectionately. “Well, you try your best to recover.”

“I’m a fighter, I’ll be okay.” You say dramatically, flicking your hair out of your face.

Emily drops you off at your door. “Call me if you need anything.” She says.

“Aw, sugar, I can always count on you.” You place a kiss on her cheek, the way you always do as a goodbye to your female agent friends.

You dig the room key from your pocket and press it into the slot. Though, you don’t push the door open, you instead look to the elevator where Emily disappears in, headed down to the lobby where most of the team resides.

When the coast is clear, you briskly turn further down the hall, passing multiple doors until you come to stand at the right one. Sparing another glance over your shoulder, you raise your knuckle to the wood.

The door opens after two knocks, and that arm raised in the air is grabbed and tugged, making you fall swiftly into the room.

You let out a soft giggle, though it’s cut off by an equally smiley kiss.

The door clicks shut behind you as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Spence.” You sigh dreamily against him. “Long time, no see, handsome.”

He pulls back to look down at you, that lopsided smile you love so much, playing on his lips.

“I saw you this morning at the station.” He reminds, letting his hands roam up your sides to hold your face.

He’s learned how to be comfortable in his actions, knowing now that you aren’t going to push him away when he reaches out. For three months, the two of you have been hiding this well kept secret, and maybe it was wrong to keep something like this from the team but…

Both you and Spencer agree that it’s nice, having something to yourselves.

So that’s why the two of you steal away any moments you can, like being on the same hotel floor after solving a case.

You give a pout. “But I’ve been stuck with Morgan all day. He was so cruel to me.”

Spencer matches your rutted lower lip. “Oh, he was cruel, huh? How was he cruel, angel?”

You love it when he calls you that.

Your hand slips into the hair on the back of his head, it’s definitely gotten a little longer.

“Made me follow him all around town, boosted me up into an icky crawl space to search for evidence.” You explain, trying to kick your heels off.

“Oh, you poor thing.” Spencer jokes, his thumb rubbing your cheek.

“It was a miserable, miserable day.” You sigh, dropping a few inches in height once your shoes are off. “But I’m here now and let me tell you, I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Spencer gets that slight blush he always does. “Have you?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Instantly, lips are parting and he’s tasting that unique-to-you taste of your tongue. Maybe it’s a placebo effect, but after awhile, he’s addicted to that sweet flavor that lingers on your lips.

You sigh and melt into him, ready to forget about all the work the two of you went through today. Taking your hand, you grasp one of his and bring it down to your belt. He gets the hint, then quickly tries to get you out of the clothes you can’t bear to be in any longer than you need to be.

While you pull his tie loose, he pulls the concealed carry holster from where it was tucked inside your waist band. He sets it on the nearby table, then pulls your shoulder holster off. You chuckle against him as you pull his own fire arm off and join it with the other two.

“So many guns.” You comment.

Without a risk in the way, he untucks your blouse. “Occupational hazard.” He adds.

Slowly, articles of clothing are making a home on the floor, and once you’re down to your underwear, you’re falling onto the bed with a laugh.

“You’re on my hair.” You wince.

“Sorry.” He adjusts, gripping your waist as he flips the two of you over.

Knees on either side of his hips, you’re free to do the thing you’ve been thinking about all day. Your favorite thing is the little gasp Spencer gives you when you first create a dizzying friction against him. You absorb it with your mouth on his, hands on his cheeks, manicured nails slightly pressing into his skin. You still haven’t figured out what flips inside of you, or what it is exactly that he does that makes your brain think ‘I want to eat him’.

“What time are we flying out tomorrow?” You ask, placing his hands on your hips.

His fingers flex into your skin, and drags you against his lap.

“7:00.” He answers, knowing how much you hate early mornings, and long flights home.

“I have a bone to pick with that Hotchner guy, I think he’s out to get me.” You huff. “He ships us out when the sun comes up, he puts me with Morgan all day, and he never lets me hang around when you’re doing paperwork in the briefing room.”

Spencer, much more brave now, trails his lips down your jaw and neck.

“That’s because you’re distracting.” He states.

You gasp. “I am helpful!”

“Helpful when you have your hand between my legs under the table?”

You giggle. “I’m helpful in more ways than one, baby, and you are no better than me.”

With a slight disbelief of his eye, he pulls away from tracing your pulse with the tip of his tongue, and shakes his head at you.

“How am I no better?”

You slightly tug at the ends of his hair. “Spence, you almost got us caught when you shoved me into the conference room on your lunch break and Emily was looking all over for me.”

He smirks, feeling all too proud of himself for that bold move. “It was my lunch break…I was having lunch.”

Ever since Spencer learned how much he enjoys his face between your thighs, it’s like he’s a junky all over again and can only go so long without making you fall apart for him. You remember thinking that there was no possible way the two of you could get away with it as he pushed your skirt up and sat you on the edge of the table, kneeling before you. You also remember thinking this was one of the hottest things he has ever done.

In the beginning, you were worried that he thought you only wanted sex. The sex, it’s great, it’s …well, it’s wow. But being with Spencer means laughing more than you ever have, spending days off together, holding his hand in public and going to as many bookstores as he likes. It’s all so much more than you ever had before.

At work, it’s the same as it’s always been, you shamelessly flirt and Spencer, being the victim of your sultry ploys, keeps stumbling his words and hardly ever raises red flags.

Sure, the team noticed that he’s a little more out of his shell, has more confidence about him, but they just think he started believing all those compliments you tell him. In all actuality, he just feels proud that he has someone like you in his life, whose socks end up in his laundry and who leaves lipstick stains on the collars of his shirts.

Fingers trace up your spine, raising goosebumps on your skin as they aim for the clasp of your bra. He’s getting pretty good at undoing the hooks.

But just before he can try to beat his time, a knock comes from the door.

The two of you pause, your lips pull back, your fingers leave his hair.

“What do we do?” You whisper.

Panting slightly from the lack of oxygen he receives when your tongue is slotted to his, he just shrugs. “Maybe they’ll go away.”

Just like that, your hips continue their motion and he’s going to free your chest.

Another knock.

“Reid, it’s Morgan.” The voice comes.

Spencer lets out a rather irritated huff, his eyes shut as he swallows hard, willing the man to just go away.

“Reid! Open the door.”

Nope, he’s not leaving.

“Son of a bitch.” He grunts.

“Oh, watch that dirty mouth, Doctor.” You tease as he pulls you off his lap.

He stands, running through mathematical formulas to try and calm down in his boxers. He scoops up a sweatshirt that lays on the back of the desk chair and pulls it on. In a panic, you roll off the bed and hide behind it on the floor, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Reid-”

Spencer pulls the door open. “What?” He snaps.

Derek is surprised by his bluntness, but he takes in his disheveled appearance and is more confused.

“What were you doing?” He asks.

“R-reading.”

Derek looks at his bare legs. “Without pants on?”

Go away, go away, go away.

Spencer breathes out. “I was about to take a shower. Now, what’s up?”

Morgan folds his arms over his chest. “Everybody is downstairs, don’t be a loner up here.”

Spencer shakes his head. “I’m pretty tired so uh, I’m gonna turn in.”

Morgan looks at him for a moment too long. “You sure you’re okay? You seem…flushed.”

“I’m fine, Morgan, really.” He reassures.

Laying face down on the carpet for a few minutes while the two men hash out whatever it is Morgan needed to, you come to the realization that you’re actually exhausted. By the time Spencer finally gets Derek to leave, you’re sitting yourself back up on the bed with a frown.

“What is it?” His brows furrow as he sees your expression.

Never have you ever had a partner so attentive, so loving in every touch they gave you. But Spencer runs his fingers through your hair as you tell him how you long for sleep, and he reassures you that it was okay you weren’t in the mood anymore.

He brought your bag from your room to his, though you truly just fell asleep in a t shirt and panties.

In the morning, you pretend you were in your room the entire night, and you meet the team in the lobby, fresh faced and ready to fly home.

“What’s your plans for this weekend?” Morgan asks after discussing with Emily what she’ll be doing.

You, who is currently taking up too much space on the couch, look over at the pair and shrug.

“I’ll have you know I have a very hot date with my bathtub when I get home and a very big plan to clean my apartment.”

That was all a lie.

You’d be over at Spencer’s this weekend, you’d be spending all your time with him, acting like a normal couple in public, having dinner and he’d get flustered when you’d kiss him in public.

But the team can’t know that.

Spencer comes back from the back of the jet, only to see his spot on the couch has been taken by your legs. He stares at you for a moment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to sit here?” You innocently question.

“Yeah, I’d prefer to.” He nods, watching you smirk.

“All you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Please?”

You sit upright, planting your feet on the ground. “Always so eager to beg.”

Emily laughs, Spencer goes red in the face.

To them, it’s exactly how it always has been between the two of you.

He sits beside you, not too close, but your fingers twitch to reach over and touch him. Your nails go to your mouth instead to keep them busy.

Without truly paying attention, Spencer reaches over and tugs your hand away from your mouth and instead hands you a sucker he pulled from his bag.

It’s such a domestic act that though there’s nothing too suggestive about it, Emily notices. She clocks the behavior as something a little odd. Sure, you and Reid have always been close but since when has he carried around things for you?

Truly, you should’ve known that Emily would be the first to suspect something, but you continued on blissfully, believing that the team was so caught up in everything else that they wouldn’t catch what was happening right under their noses.

“The station was able to get us last minute rooms but there’s only four available, some of us are going to have to double up.” Hotch says nearly a month later on a case in a small Texas town you were only supposed to be in for the day.

But when the case turned into something far more complicated than anticipated, the team opted to stay for a bit longer.

The team shares a few looks as Hotch holds the motel room keys in his hand, all knowing that he wasn’t about to bunk in with Rossi anytime soon.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid.” Morgan declares as he begins to feel like it’s going to be assumed. “Make the girls share a room.”

All three of you begin to protest, knowing you’re fine with sharing but not fine with Morgan making that decision for you.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

JJ, always such a leader, looks to you. “If you and Prentiss want to share, I’ll bunk with Reid.” She sighs.

Spencer starts feeling like he’s a child again, watching his parents talk about custody, knowing one parent truly doesn’t want him.

The suggestion, though innocent, has your nails pressing into your palms. It’s a terrible idea in your mind, because here is a chance to stay with your golden boy for the night and it’s getting taken away.

“I’ll stay with Spencer, I don’t mind. Is that okay with you, Spence?” You turn to look up at him, innocent smile, sultry eyes.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure. Fine- it’s fine with me…I’ll take the floor.” He stutters awkwardly, sealing the deal with a cricked smile that’s very Spencer Reid.

Hotch narrows his eye as he hands you a room key. “Keep the flirting to a minimum.”

“How can I when he just makes it so easy?” You joke, taking the key.

As you grab your bag, Morgan begins to uncontrollably laugh.

“Go easy on him.” He jokes. “He’s a romantic.”

“Morgan.” Reid sighs, following behind you.

“You have a fun sleepover! Hey, you still got that whistle? Yell fire if she gets to be too much!”

I glanced back at Morgan, shaking your head before looking to Spencer. “Come on, lover boy, I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” He mutters.

“Only sometimes.”

Hotch prays he’s not going to get an email from HR. He’s already hearing it from Strauss, a meeting needs to be set up for inappropriate conduct between coworkers, and everyone knows Garcia and Morgan aren’t the only ones to blame, not when you’re addressing Spencer as ‘handsome genius’ in work emails.

The door clicks shut and you turn the lock, letting out a sigh and taking in the modest room, everything decorated in a dated western fashion.

“Were you serious about taking the floor?” You ask, causing him to look back over to you.

“If you want me to, yes.”

Bless him and his gentleman qualities, it has you wanting to jump him in the most passionate way.

“Now, why would I want you to be down there when I’ll be up in the mattress all alone? Here I thought you had a high IQ.” You tease, opening your go bag. “You mind if I shower? You could join me if you want.”

The offer is tempting.

“I better stay here in case someone comes knocking, might be a little suspicious if we’re both dripping wet at the same time.” He says, feeling proud that he still can think logically, though it’s far too hard when you’re around.

A smirk pulls at your soft lips. “I thought I was the only one who knew anything about being dripping wet.”

Spencer becomes flush, his cheeks burning as he says your name, prompting you to stop your explicit behavior.

“Sorry, baby, it’s just so easy.” You come to kiss his jaw before finding your way to the bathroom.

The shower is warm and the low light in the bathroom is soothing, you rinse clean and shampoo your hair, making the steam smell like your scent. Spencer browses the minimal television selection, then fights his urge to unmake the bed because he knows you’ll want to adjust the blanket and sheets a certain way.

“The water pressure is surprisingly good.” You say after about fifteen minutes, coming out, releasing that waft of steam.

Toweling your hair, you come back to your bag to find your various travel lotions, though you don’t get very far because Spencer is looking at you like you just hung the moon.

“What?” You ask, slightly adjusting your robe with an unsure smile.

He smiles softly. “I just…it’s unfair how beautiful you are in every form.”

Your heart swoons like it always does when he’s around.

“You have no room to talk, mister.” You remind, abandoning the skin care and come to stand between his knees that he parts for you.

Your finger traces the line of his jaw as his hands gently place on the backs of your thighs.

“You’re so sexy with your hair pushed back like this. Did you start wearing it like this because you knew it would drive me crazy?” You ask coyly, half teasing, running your fingers through it.

“It’s getting long.” He says.

“Nonsense, I love it.”

“You love everything.”

“I love you.”

The two of you pause. Those are three words you haven’t exactly expressed often. It’s been said, in a ramble from Spencer where it just came out and you had beamed up at him like you’ve won a prize.

Now, you say it with certainty, and he wants to hear it again.

“I love you.” You say with more intensity, leaning down to where you have his face in your hands, holding him there as you kiss him.

“I love you too.” He mumbles against your lips.

You don’t pull away when he slowly reaches for the tie of the silky robe, you’d never reject him.

He’s already lost his shoes and socks, his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, but he loses more as you help him. Further up on the bed, you let the open robe fall off your shoulders, not feeling bashful as he studies you with his eyes.

Spencer could never look at you in anything other way than adoration.

“Hotch is dumb.” You decide in his lap, placing his hands on your hips.

“We’re taking advantage of the situation.” Spencer declares, face falling to your shoulder as you sink further down onto him.

“I feel no remorse.” You breathe.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex, the first time was a long time coming and it was perfect. So gentle and warm and everything the two of you craved. You laid in his sheets and traced the freckles on his skin and it’s a moment you think of often because you often don’t get them.

Now, you have a moment and are seizing it.

“You okay?” You ask with the drag of your hips.

“You’re heavenly.” Spencer proclaims, tasting the clean skin of your neck.

“Spence.” You gasp, getting the hang of a rhythm. “Fuck.” The word leaves your lips as soon as he thrusts up into you.

You and Spencer have always worked well together so this is no different.

It’s addictive, the feeling stirring in you, the shear pleasure washing over him. He knows a thing or two about addiction and he can confidently say that you make him feel far better than any needle in the vein did.

At some point, with your hands in his hair, mouth hot against his, and his grip moving you how he wants…

Your phone rings.

At first, you do your best to ignore it, but it continues in an annoying fashion.

“No.” You plead, trying to chase that oncoming feeling.

“Who is it?” Spencer breathes heavy as you reach for the device.

“Emily.”

His head falls in defeat, movements slowing, prompting you to answer.

You do your best to not sound aggravated as Emily asks if she can bring dinner by, but the idea of a burger does sound nice.

“Yeah, we could eat.” You state, free hand over Spencer’s mouth to keep him quiet as your slow movements continue.

“Let me know if you need anything else.” Emily states in a kind yet suspicious tone.

“Will do, thanks Em.”

You throw the phone away, overwhelmed and determined to reach the high that was slowly slipping away.

“I hate our team sometimes.” You determine, frustrated that you lost momentum.

Not so gently, Spencer adjusts you to be on the mattress, taking over when you threaten to call off the entire idea because there was a stumble in the step.

“They should just know not to call on the off chance two coworkers are breaking HR rules.” He jokes, entering you without hesitation, making you gasp out.

The roll of his hips is slowly bringing you back to the precipice at a dangerously fast rate, leaving your legs to shake a touch.

“Emily is going to be here soon.” You stress, digging your skull into the pillow.

“We’ll be done before then.” He assures, reaching his hand down to rub his thumb against your clit in a hot friction.

“Emily could stand here and watch for all I care.” You state, pleading for a release. “I just- I need it, baby, please.”

“I know, I know, angel, you’re going to get it.”

How could a man be so soft when he’s doing such dirty things to you? It’s a mystery you’ll never quite understand, but Spencer has always been a wonder, so this is to be expected. He’s coaxing you to the finish, letting you suck on his shoulder to keep your noises down.

And when it happens after the build up of waiting for weeks, it hits like a tidal wave, leaving you speechless, open mouth gasping silently for air. Spencer is shuddering and pressing his face into that space between your jaw and collar bone.

You half expect a phone call, some kind of urgent message that will ruin this moment but nothing comes. It’s just you and Spencer.

At some point after getting cleaned up, you lay side by side, limbs tangled. Your eyes threaten to shut at the way he traces the shape of your face.

“Sometimes I’m just waiting to wake from this dream.” He whispers, tucking hair behind your ear.

You hum. “It’s not a dream, that’s what makes this so great.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head down to brush his nose to yours. “Sometimes I think it is, because in what reality am I really the person you choose?”

You don’t like that, it obvious on your face. “I’d choose you in every universe, even if you don’t choose me.” You say sternly, a hand pushing his hair back.

He likes when you’re genuine. Well, you’re always genuine, but you also always have a face on, one of coyness and humor. When you’re like this, emotionally bare, he likes you the most.

“I’d never not choose you.” He states before turning to kiss your wrist.

You want to comment about how romantic he is without trying, but Emily knocks like you knew she would.

The two of you spring up, thankful you’re already dressed. You take a calming breath as you head to the door, and Spencer quickly tries to straighten the wrinkled sheets.

Emily isn’t dumb, she knows something is different, but she truly doesn’t suspect anything yet, which is questionable because she has a perfect view of signs that indicate adult activities when she comes in to deliver the burgers.

She goes and tells JJ that the two of you act different, a little more guilty, but Emily doesn’t know for sure until a completely different scenario comes about.

Two weeks later, when you’re sent into a living nightmare. Hotch makes the call to send you into the Unsub’s house alone first, you do it without hesitation because that is just how you do your job when it comes to the life or death of three missing children.

“House is clear, I’m going down to the basement.” You say into the com on your vest, confirming your safety to the team.

But you speak too soon, the Unsub does something the profile was wrong about. Hotch sent you in there because he suspected the man to be submissive to confident women of higher standard.

Though you were cautious, you weren’t expecting the Unsub to attack you at first chance.

You do your best to fight back and get the kids free, but you’re completely blindsided. Who knows what would have happened if SWAT and the team didn’t storm in when they did.

When you sit in the back of the ambulance, in shock, a paramedic cleaning up the gash on your forehead, Spencer is there with concern and comfort.

“The kids?” You ask.

“They’re safe, they’re going to be okay.” He reassured, holding your hand between both of his.

“I didn’t…I should’ve-“

“Shh.” He frowns. “You did good, angel, everything’s alright. Do you feel okay?”

Your brows draw and you shake your head. “I don’t feel well. Do I look well?”

“You have a concussion, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“Am I still gorgeous?” You ask in a dreamy voice.

“You’re always gorgeous.” He assures, cradling your cheek. “You’re just gorgeous with a head injury that you’re going to go to the hospital to get it looked at.”

Your eyes shut as you hum, the warmth of his palm runs through you. The two of you embrace gently, completely forgetting how casual you are supposed to be appearing.

The team sees it now, of course they do.

You’ll have to explain the secret you’ve been hiding from them later, but now you’re just listening to Spencer’s voice murmur to you, wrapped in his FBI jacket, fighting the urge to adjust his hair.

[devotedfem]

«Frankenweenie»

Synopsis: Namjoon loved his dog with his whole heart, but she passed away. But that didn't stop him from trying to bring her back to life, what he didn't expect though was his princess pet coming alive as a human girl.

K. Namjoon x f. Reader

3.3K words.

Genre: Frankenweenie (Tim burton) au | yander-ish.

Tags: Bringing back the dead, inspired by Frankenweenie by Tim Burton but with a dark twist, grief, angst, obsession, unhealthy coping mechanism, scientist Namjoon, morally grey Namjoon, codependency, cute and adorable reader, confused reader, possessive behavior, jealousy, plot twist, hurt, secrets, smut, dubious consent and painful s3x (but in the second part), revenge, Namjoon is a little fucked up in the head and not only in a hot way, he has issues but don't we all?, captivity.

Part I, II.

From the series masterlist; Hush.

Navigation Masterlist.

Namjoon wiped away the silent tear that dropped from his left eye, his face was red and restrained, the heavy lump in his throat felt like a rock trying to choke him. He closed his eyes to compose himself, he was an adult but one who was very much in pain. He sighed before adding more soil to the grave.

He’s doing this alone so no one would make fun of him, he wanted to grieve in silence and with no one around him trying to soothe him or telling him that he could find a new pet, that it wasn’t that deep. But it was, his love for his princess dog was very much deep.

He cleared his throat turning away from the little grave he made on his backyard, his princess’s favorite place.

The sting he felt when he entered an empty house, void of life, was unbearable.

She was with him since she was a little pup and he a little kid, he never loved anything in the world as much as he loved his pet. She was a sweet puppy, always loyal to him, accompanying him in the worst and the best. His parents were a little bit worry that this day will come and Namjoon would be heartbroken, but what was even more sad is that Namjoon’s parents left this world before his princess, deepening the bond between them both. But now she left Namjoon too, and for him that wasn’t fair at all.

Why is everyone leaving him?

The lump in his throat grew more, suffocating him with a vice grip. And then the sobs came out with force, making Namjoon to drop on the floor, wrapping both of his legs with his arms, hiding his wailing face between his knees. His sobs were heartbreaking, his chest stung with acid pain burning his heart. This is why he grieves alone, because no one would understand the weight of his hurt.

When the night fell, Namjoon’s face was swollen by the amount of tears he shed, his gaze was detach and dissociated, he didn’t have anymore tears in him to drop. So this is it, his grieving was over. This was the second time in his life he’s mourning a loved one, the first time was for his parents, and she was beside him to bear the pain. And now he’s mourning her, alone.

With a dull face, he put on his lab coat, he has work to do. At least he can distract his mind by working. But he knows that when he returns home, the pain will come back twice as hard.

Everything was normal in the lab, some coworkers asked Namjoon if everything was alright, but they didn’t keep pushing it when Namjoon only gave them a fake smile. He didn’t have any friends here, his only friends were Seokjin and Yoongi, but they moved out from the city last month.

Alone, alone, alone, alone, alone-

“Hey, I have something to show you,” someone whispered besides him, startling Namjoon out of his thoughts. His brows knitted with annoyance, he didn’t want to be bothered right know.

“Jungkook I’m not in the mood-“

“It’s important! I really need you to see it!” The brat interrupted Namjoon, fueling his anger. He was about to tell him to go fuck himself until he watched Jungkook’s wide eyes and pale face, he looked terrified but at the same time… excited?

“Okay fine, show me. But if you waste my time, I’ll snitch on you to the boss.” His bitter remark went ignored by Jungkook.

Namjoon frowned and narrowed his eyes with suspicion, the younger was too eager even for himself.

They went to an empty hallway, and Jungkook watch to his left and right before opening a door, with Namjoon following behind.

For a second, Namjoon’s heart beat fast with a little bit of excitement, until he watched before him a rat on a table, and nothing more. Namjoon closed his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose, suddenly having a headache.

“Jungk-“

“I’m a god hyung,” Jungkook fucking interrupted Namjoon, again.

“What the fuck Jungkook? What kind of drugs are you on!?” He barked at the younger losing his patience, but Jungkook didn’t even blink at his shout, making Namjoon stop and feel unease.

“I’m not high.”

“Then you’re insane! I’m done, I’m leaving your freak ass,” he said turning around, but Jungkook’s next words stopped his movements.

“I bring that rat back to life, it was dead. And I revived it.”

The deep hush and quietness that took over the room after Jungkook’s words made Namjoon feel chills on his body, freezing his limbs and stopping his heart beat for a second.

Everything around Namjoon spined, and he was about to literally pass out and fall to the floor if it weren’t for Jungkook rushing to help him.

“Hyung! Are you okay? Fuck… I didn’t mean to scare you like that, i swear I’m not on drugs,” Jungkook’s brows were knitted and his eyes wide with worry. Namjoon chuckled a little by the kid’s words.

This felt like a sign from heaven, encouraging Namjoon to do this.

The older composed himself quickly straightening his back and turning around to see the rat closely.

“What’s the failure percentage? How many times have you done this? Is this your first subject? Have you tried this with… humans?” Namjoon’s voice lowered at the last word. He was all professional right now, but some things like bringing dead people back to life, can be considered unethical. But Namjoon wouldn’t judge Jungkook if that was the case. He was a scientist before anything.

Jungkook’s eyes widened with horror at the mention of reviving people.

“No! I haven’t done this with any human, just a couple of rats. This is my third subject, but-but I came to the conclusion that this won’t work on human’s corpses anyway. For now, it works only for animals.”

When Namjoon turned his head to look back at Jungkook, the younger widened his eyes for a second before averting and dropping his gaze to his toes with anxiety, he was shifting his weight to one foot to another, not meeting Namjoon’s prying eyes. The boy was nervous, and it was normal. This kind of stuff like reviving dead animals behind their lab managers backs wasn’t legal at all. Jungkook could be in trouble for all Namjoon knows, but lucky for Jungkook, this serves Namjoon’s best interests.

“Hey,” called softly Namjoon. Approaching Jungkook to rub his shoulder and ease the tension, Jungkook startled with surprise by the touch, and Namjoon only smiled at him.

“I won’t tell anyone about this Jungkookie, I promise.” He crooned with sparkly eyes crinkling at the corner, spreading Jungkook’s smile who relaxed quickly at Namjoon’s words.

And then, all of sudden Namjoon’s face dropped with seriousness, making the younger frown.

“But only if you do me a favor,” he mumbled with a deep and dark voice, his eyes were crazed and fixated on Jungkook, even his “tender” touch on the younger shoulder tighten with force, making Jungkook flinch with pain.

“Wh-what kind of favor hyung?” Jungkook couldn’t help the stutter, the older man made him feel intimidated all of sudden.

It’s like he’s witnessing a dark side of Namjoon he didn’t knew about.

And then, Namjoon grinned widely, like wolf.

“Help me bring back my princess.”

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The two of them were on Namjoon’s basement, he has some lab tools and machinery down there. He chose that place to hide from prying eyes like their coworkers or bosses. Unfortunately, Jungkook felt extremely scared being alone in a basement with Namjoon. Now and then he throwed the older side eyes, waiting for any weird movement from him to run the fuck away from this house.

They spent 4 hours trying to revive the dog lying on the lab bench, but nothing happened. The younger watched how Namjoon was losing himself in the process, and he almost felt bad for him, he didn’t know he had lost his pet, and that he loved it this much. But it was the natural process of life, if Jungkook knew he was speaking to a grieving person, he wouldn’t tell him about his little experiment.

Namjoon hit the bench with a curse, fighting back tears. Jungkook took this as a sign to stop.

“Hyung, I already told you this may take up to 24 hours. I think you should rest…” he said carefully, as if he was dealing with a wild animal. In fact, Jungkook only wanted to go home.

“Yeah, you’re right. You can leave.” The older said crossing his arms and staring at the corpse of the dog.

Jungkook find it quite disturbing, but he said nothing when he turned around to get the fuck away.

“And Jungkook, this better work. Because if not, you’ll be the next corpse I’ll try to bring back to life.” That threat freeze Jungkook’s movements with primal fear, he watched with horror Namjoon’s back before literally running away.

Namjoon wiped away the silent tears, bringing a chair to sit in front of the bench with a tight heart. His pet wasn’t moving at all, her body was covered in dirt and inflated, giving off nasty odors.

It was like a reality check for him, he had hope for a second, but that was ripped away from him. His eyes dropped with exhaustion and hurt heavy in his chest. Dreaming about his parents and his pet, and colorful moments.

Then it was midnight.

A lighting struck outside the window, the sound made you lift your upper body. You gasped in amazement when you watched all of your limbs, they looked human. Your skin was soft and hairless, but where is your fur!? Now how you’ll survive the cold? Your eyes and mouth opened when you felt some type of fur coming from your scalp, it was very long and it covered your chest. You frowned when you touched your chest, you had two lumps of flesh popping out of it. You played with them a little, feeling a weird sensation between your legs when you stimulated them.

But you got distracted by the long limbs from the lower part of your body. You were giggling when you moved them.

“Who the fuck are you?” The strident and angered voice startled you, you didn’t notice Namjoon watching you like a hawk.

You blinked when you recognized him. It was him! Your beloved owner! You missed him so, so much.

“Joon!” You chirped with happiness, getting out of the bench with shaking legs, walking like a newborn and throwing yourself into Namjoon’s lap.

He was startled and a little bit horrified, he had a naked and unknown woman sitting on his lap.

“Missu!” you said wrapping your arms around his neck.

He frowned lost and disturbed.

“What? Who are you and what are you doing here you freak.” He said with his brows knitted, he was about to throw you away and call the police.

You didn’t understand some of his words, but you did notice that he wasn’t recognizing you, and that made you pout.

“Me me! y/n me! Joon you! Me y/n!” You were distressed because you couldn’t bark anymore and you didn’t know how to speak Namjoon’s language very well. You grabbed both of his shoulders to make him understand you.

A thousand of emotions flash on Namjoon’s face, surprise, fear, pain and… relieve.

His gaze softened immediately, and you grinned with teeth recognizing that sweet gaze Namjoon used only for you. His hand lifted to stroke lovingly your cheek, and you dropped your face into his palm, closing your eyes and enjoying his touch.

But you startled when you felt him wrapping both of his arms around you with a tight grip, burying his face in your neck and smelling your scent. You melted at his touch, giggling at the sensation of his breath brushing your skin.

“You’re here,” he whispered, this time grabbing both of your cheeks to look at you better. His eyes scanned all of your face and body. You watched something dark and strange flashing his eyes when he looked down at your body, but he returned to your eyes quickly.

“I didn’t expect you to come back as a human… but I’m not complaining either,” he said smiling with dimples and sparkling eyes, you felt a happiness bubble burst inside of your chest at the sight.

You were so happy that you lapped his mouth with your tongue like you always did when you were, well a dog. But this time Namjoon freeze with shock, you watched him gulp hard and avert his eyes, making you pout.

“Okay, we should put clothes on you I guess,” he said clearing his throat, he was about to get up from the chair but you glued yourself to him, wrapping tightly your arms and legs around him, making him laugh.

You giggle when he tried to dress you on his clothes, you only let him put one of his oversize shirts on you, but you didn’t let him dress you in pants or underwear, you didn’t like the feeling of being covered in clothes.

Namjoon let you be for today, after all his shirt was big enough to cover you mid thigh.

He noticed that you can’t walk on two legs, you were tripping like a newborn, always pouting at him to carry you. He always melted and do as you wish, he wouldn’t denied you anything.

“Missu,” you whispered at him when he was hand feeding you after you made a mess with the cutlery and food.

He hummed staring at you with those piercing eyes.

“You mean, you miss me?” He asked softly, and you nodded with a wide smile.

You were about to lick his face again but you stopped, not sure if he would like it. He noticed your hesitation, gripping your chin gently.

“Humans usually don’t lick each other like dogs do, I don’t mind if you do, but we have other ways of expressing our love.” He said lowly, making you blink with curiosity.

“Kis’?” You asked with knitted brows, you heard that on tv before going inside the kitchen with him.

Namjoon chuckled at you, nodding with heart eyes.

“Want me to teach you?”

You nodded more fiercely this time, eager to show and receive love.

He brushed his lips on your cheek, pecking the skin softly. You enjoyed it, but on tv the people were doing that with their mouths together, and they were using tongue too.

You frowned a bit disappointed, then you grabbed boldly his chin and crashed your lips against his. You licked his lips a little bit carelessly. But you enjoyed it better like this, it felt right. You were closing your eyes and melting in the feeling, until Namjoon gripped tightly your waist to put you away from him, breaking the kiss.

His gaze was dark and his breath a little labored, he looked scary and affected like this, you thought that maybe he didn’t like it.

“Darling, if you do that again, I will lose control over myself. Be careful next time or I won’t stop.” His jaw was clenched and his nostril flared.

You recoiled a bit into yourself at his intense expression, it reminds you when Namjoon gets angry when you misbehaved. If you had your dog ears right now, they would be back and your tail between legs.

Namjoon’s eyes softened immediately, stroking your locks.

“Let’s go to sleep, princess,” he said carrying you to his bedroom.

You watched with widened eyes and parted lips how he laid you down on his mattress and not the floor, you giggle with happiness basking at the feeling of the soft bed sheets wrapping you, you rolled until you turned yourself into a human burrito, making Namjoon break a loud laugh at you.

“All right, stop being silly and let’s sleep.” He said lying next to you on the mattress.

You stared at him with a big smile before launching yourself at him, making him groan, he faked a hurt whine making your smile drop and your brows frown.

You sit on his waist with your legs on each side of him, grabbing his cheeks into your palms to look for any injury.

But Namjoon took you by surprise when he changed the positions, turning your bodies around to make you lay under him. He was staring down at you with hunger in his eyes.

“Sleep well, my love.” He said before turning off the bed lamp, and positioning himself this time behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you warm with his chest against your back.

Your eyes dropped immediately, ignoring the possessive snake-grip that was holding your body.

You were so happy, you wanted that happiness to last forever.

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

When the first sun lights stroked your face, you blinked your eyes open, yawning and stretching your limbs. You freed yourself from Namjoon’s tight grip, hearing the sound of people and cars outside the house. You were curious to explore the world as a human, so you try to walk some steps on your feet but you ended up tripping and falling to your knees. You look behind your back if you woke Namjoon up, but he was still like a rock.

You crawled to the living room, approaching the front door. This time you stood on your feet without tripping, turning the door knob and feeling the street breeze brushing your face. You watched in amazement the cars and the people outdoors, you put a foot outside until you were dragged roughly into the house again. You whimpered with pain by Namjoon’s violent hold.

He slammed the door shut, turning around and staring daggers at you, his jaw was set and his fists clenched. His breathing was labored and his steps were heavy when approaching you. By instincts you crawled away from him to hide in a safer spot, but he stopped you, pulling your body towards him.

“Don’t fucking do that again! You want to be killed by a car again!? You want to die and leave me alone a second time!? It’s that what you want!?” He shouted to your face with a vein popping on his neck, you didn’t understand half of his words, but either way they made you cry with hurt.

It was the first time you felt afraid of him.

Namjoon calmed down a little at the sight of your tears, but his strong hold on your upper arms didn’t ease.

“You’re mine, you won’t set a foot outside of this house or get away from under my watch ever again, did I make myself fucking clear?” His crazed eyes were fixated on you, you didn’t know what to answer, so you just nodded with fear.

He pulled you against his chest to hug you, but instead of feeling warm you felt trapped.

“I own you, remember that my love.” He whispered hotly against your ear. And that word, owning, that you understand.

The moment was interrupted by a knock from the front door, you felt Namjoon tensing.

“Hyung! It’s me Jungkook, did the experiment worked with your dog?”

You heard Namjoon cursing and tightening his grip on you, but you frowned confused. Experiment? Dog? Was that man talking about you?

It was the first time in your short life that you had doubts about your owner, even thoughts, before… before all of this you never really think, you just feel and bark. But now, everything changed.

And you were about to find out what was happening, and what was Namjoon hiding.

He can own your body but not your mind.

Or that’s what you thought.

a/n: want to read part II right away? click here to early access.

Part II will be posted on my tumblr in 4 weeks.

taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @pynkgothicka @cutequeen00 @nothingsreal420 @ririkookiemonster-archives @cannotalwaysbenight @loumin908 @devilzliaison @uniquecutie-puffs @polarnightmyg @acherry04 @lizziekitty

[extinctlesspains]

Hi Ty you’re the only one writing for Kwon.i was hoping you could write something were the reader is part of Miyagi-Do.so of course cobra Kai is bothering her.its get to the night were everyone’s out clubbing in Barcelona.Her,hawk and demetri are walking back to the hotel but they see kwon lying in an alley way.The boys leaves but the reader decides to help him.When she gets him to his hotel room they have a moment and he actually develops a soft spot for her.

A/n: I love this idea💕

𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝐵𝑎𝑑: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑏𝑟𝑎 𝑘𝑎𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛. 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑦, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑝𝑒𝑡 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑌/𝑛, 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔.

■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■■□■□■□■□■

"We should head back." Hawk stated, grabbing Demetri and you by the hand. "Dude I was just about to get her number!" Demetri yelled. "Shut up. You have a girlfriend, well, had." You rolled your eyes at Demetris behavior.

The three of you began walking towards the hotel, taking a short cut by using a nearby alleyway. "Ah shit." Hawk rolled his eyes and turned to the side. An injured Kwon had taken up the alleyway. He had sat up on the wall, holding his sides and groaning. "Cmon let's just take the long way." Demetri grabbed your ark but you stubbornly pushed him off and ran to Kwon. "Wait Y/n!-" They tried grabbing out for you but you slipped past them.

"Are you okay?!" Worried filled your body once you saw his injuries. "Uh-" Kwon was taken by surprise. He never expected you, a Miyagi do, to help him out. "Y/n, get away from him! He's the enemy."

"Shut up, Hawk. He's injured." "That's not our problem." Turning to face the binary brothers, you responded. "Then it doesn't have to be yours, it'll be mine." Hawk rolled his eyes while shaking his head. "Whatever, your on your own... Let's go Demetri." He scoffed and grabbed his friend to leave the alleyway.

"Sorry about them... Sometimes karate gets to the best of them." You wanted to add a lighter atmosphere to this tense situation. A soft smile replaced your frown as you looked at Kwon. "Uhm, can you walk?" Kwon looked at you tilting your head before nodding. "Yes... But not well." "It's okay, I'll help you." You stood up with a smile and offered your hand to grab.

He hesitantly grabbed a hold of your soft and delicate hand. He held onto you for leverage, limping but standing because of your help. "What happened to you?" Your voice was soft and sweet. "I ran into a group of guys... Yoon ran off but I stayed." Hearing his words made you frown.

"Well I'm here now, and I'll make sure your safe." You proudly said to him. A comfortable silence filled the air as you walked back to the hotel and into Kwons room. "Take a seat on the bed. I'll find some things to clean your cuts."

The black haired boy nodded and fleed to take a seat on his bed. He looked at the mirror, which had your reflection. He smiled softly as he heard your humming while you continued to search for items. That was until he realized his actions and turned his face back to a stern look.

"Here we go... Look that way." You towered over him as he sat on the bed and you wer e standing up. Your hands were soft and tender when cleaning his cuts and wounds to prevent any dirt from going in and creating an Infection. "Ow!-" Kwon winced, making you quickly retract your hand. "Oh! Sorry... I forgot rubbing alcohol hurts on cuts." Having Kwon wince in pain made your frown and quickly come up with a solution.

"You can squeeze my hand, if that helps? If it burns, just squeeze my hand. I can handle it." Your soothing words and smile made Kwons heart skip a beat. You placed your hand in his and went back to work. Hissing and closing his eyes, Kwon quickly grabbed your hand and squeezed it. "It's okay, your almost done..." Grabbing some cream and rubbing it in before placing some bandages on them.

"And done!" You smiled and clapped your hands. "Now just get plenty of rest and I'll be back tomorrow to change the bandages, okay?" You started cleaning up and gathered your things to leave.

"Thank you, love." You instantly turned around and smiled. You had gone from bastard, to Y/n, to love. "You're welcome." You nodded and smiled.

You walked out into the hotel Hall and said one last goodbye to Kwon.

"Take it easy tomorrow... Okay? I'll see you later. Goodnight!" You waved. "Goodnight love. Sleep well." He flashed a smile your way, seeing you leave to the elevator.

He shut the door and immediately got on his phone, going to Instagram and attempting to find your account.

Maybe miyagi dos weren't so bad after all... Well, at least not all of them.

[barcaatthemoon]

drives me crazy || laia codina x reader ||

Laia trusts you, but that doesn't stop her from getting jealous.

18+

"I need a night out." You never could have imagined where that one sentence would take you. A bye week for Arsenal meant that when the weekend rolled around, some of the girls were more than happy to go out for the night with you. Somehow, Laia had managed to talk friends from other teams into going as well, and that was how you ended up sandwiched between two Spanish women who were definitely not your girlfriend.

You had known Leila for long enough to know the woman was handsy. You came to Arsenal from Manchester City, transferring after the Spanish woman's first season. The two of you were friends, so you didn't bat an eyelash at the way that her hands gripped your hips.

Laia Alexandri seemed to just follow Leila's lead when it came to dancing with you. Both women were getting a bit handsy with you, but you reminded yourself that they were naturally much more affectionate. You remembered the way that your own girlfriend had been early on your relationship. These two were even more naturally friendly and affectionate than your girlfriend seemed to be, so you were kind of letting a lot slide.

Your girlfriend, however, simply put, was not. Laia had been getting a couple of drinks at the bar, one for herself and one for you, when she looked over to see Leila tilt your head back. She had noticed you sandwiched between the two women earlier in the night, but now it genuinely looked like Leila was making a move on you. You seemed oblivious, and Laia had to remind herself that you weren't letting them do that because you were interested.

"No intervenga!" Laia shouted over the music. You felt yourself getting pulled away, and you opened your eyes to see Laia staring at Leila with murderous intent. Laia pushed you behind her towards the bar to collect the drinks while she pulled Leila off to the side. You watched them argue, knowing damn well both women were speaking Spanish too quickly for you to understand it if you had been close by.

"She does not look happy mate," Katie commented as she watched the exchange.

"I don't know if I should go over there." You were biting your lip, slightly worried that one of them would cause a scene. "What do you think?"

"I think that if Caitlin had let two other women touch her like that, we wouldn't be speaking for a while," Katie said. You suddenly got much more afraid of the situation. Laia and Leila parted ways, Leila going right back to the dance floor and finding herself someone else to dance with. Your girlfriend briefly stopped by the bar to grab you on her way out, not saying a word until the two of you were nearly halfway to the car.

"Laia, babe, I'm sorry," you apologized. Laia glanced back at you, but only briefly. "Laia, please talk to me."

"Are you doing that on purpose?" Laia asked you. You tilted your head at her, puzzled by her question. You hadn't done anything intently, things just got a little out of hand with Leila.

"No, I'd never knowingly put myself in a situation like that. I mean it, I'm sorry about the thing with Leila. I shouldn't have let her get that handsy with me." Laia put her hand up to stop you from rambling. She placed her hands around your waist, tugging you flush against her.

"You drive me crazy sometimes," Laia whispered, as if she was afraid of anybody else hearing her words. Her gaze was fixed on your lips, but she didn't kiss you. Laia only walked with her arm around your waist for the rest of the way. She was still a perfect gentlewoman, opening your door and shutting it for you before she made her way around to the passenger's side.

Laia didn't let anything take her attention away from you. She acted as if you'd cease to exist the moment that she did. Still, Laia waited until the two of you were safely inside of her apartment to do anything.

You shouldn't have been surprised, but you were caught off guard by Laia pressing you up against the door. Her hands made quick work of undressing you, only breaking the absolutely bruising kiss to toss your clothes away. Laia backed away only when you were naked, leaving you to feel a tiny bit exposed with Laia still completely dressed in front of you.

"I should never let you out of my sight. If I had my way, we'd never leave the bedroom," Laia told you. She grabbed you by the hand and walked you over to the couch. Laia sat down first, making herself comfortable before she pulled you onto her lap.

You landed with your knees on both sides of her lap. Laia kept you raised slightly as she ducked her head down to bury her face in between your breasts. You could feel her pressing kisses to the skin there, going back and forth between your breasts as her fingers came up to tweak and tease your nipples.

"Laia," you whined, hips canting forward, but not enough for any friction. Laia seemed to like the sound of you whining for her, so she pinched a little harder. You tried once again to seek out friction, only to come up with nothing. "Laia, please."

"Keep saying my name, I love to hear it. I don't ever want to hear anybody else's name. Only mine, just us," Laia told you. She didn't tease you for much longer. Her hands fell from your breasts and trailed down your sides until they met between your legs. It wasn't exactly what you wanted, but you could grind against the palm of Laia's hand now. "Tell me how much you want me, and I'll give you everything you want."

"Laia, please. I need you so fucking bad," you told her. Laia made you repeat yourself again andd again, just barely giving you more each time you asked. You felt like you were on the verge of crying before you finally felt her push two fingers inside of you.

"You're making such a mess on my lap. I can feel you dripping onto me," Laia said. You believed her, not having felt wet like this in weeks. Laia wasn't normally one to tease, but tonight, she was putting you through it. You knew that it was a punishment for letting her Spanish teammates touch you like that.

You knew that every moment you had to wait while Laia's fingers moved so close to where you wanted them was your fault. It gave you a bit of a rush, being punished like this, but you also hated it. You hated whining and feeling needy like this because you weren't used to it. Laia had never really driven you crazy like this, but you could see that she loved it.

"Cum for me, I can feel that pretty little pussy of yours trying so hard. You don't have to hold back. Stop thinking and just cum, that's all I want. Am I not good enough for you anymore? Do you need Leila for that now?" You didn't want to cum while Laia questioned you about Leila, but that was just how it went. Every rational thought flew from your head as Laia's thumb pressed against your clit. The pressure from that had you spilling out into the palm of her hand. "You're such a fucking dirty girl, but nobody is ever going to know it. That's a secret for me and you."

"Fuck Laia," you swore as you fell against her body. Laia wrapped her arms around you, holding you in a tight embrace. "Only us, just you and me."

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER PT5 | MV1

an: AND WE'RE BACK!! WHO MISSED OUR FAVOURITE LITTLE FAMILY! can't wait to hear what you guys think of this part, i've loved being with them this week, this is a shorter chapter but i've got ideas for what might happen next! lmk if y'all wanna see anything in particular

wc: 3.2k

Theo was four when his parents welcomed his sister, and Max very nearly missed it, if not for Danny.

It had been a normal day at the garage, Max elbow-deep in an engine rebuild, grease staining his hands and his focus entirely on the task at hand. His phone, forgotten on the workbench, buzzed furiously with calls and messages. It wasn’t until Danny came barreling into the shop, panting like he’d just run a marathon, that Max looked up.

“Max! Man, what the hell are you doing?” Danny wheezed, clutching his knees.

Max straightened, wiping his hands on a rag. “Uh, working? What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re dying.”

Danny shot him a glare, pointing accusingly at the phone vibrating incessantly on the workbench. “Your wife is trying to call you! She’s in labour, man! She’s having the baby!”

Max froze, the rag slipping from his fingers. “What?”

“She’s at the hospital! Her aunt’s with her, but you need to move! Now!”

Max’s heart lurched into overdrive. Without a word, he sprinted to the workbench, grabbed his phone, and bolted out the door. “Danny, lock up!” he shouted over his shoulder as he jumped onto his bike.

Danny shook his head, muttering, “You owe me for this one, man.”

Max arrived at the hospital in record time, still in his grease-stained shirt and boots. His wife was mid-contraction when he burst into the room, panting, his face a mixture of guilt and relief.

“You’re here,” she said through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing slightly before softening at his frazzled appearance.

“I’m here,” he confirmed, rushing to her side and taking her hand. “I’m sorry, angel. My phone was on silent—”

“Save it,” she hissed, squeezing his hand so tightly he thought his bones might break. “You’re here now. Just don’t let go.”

Max didn’t. Not for a second. Hours later, they welcomed a healthy baby girl into the world. Max cried as he held her for the first time, the tiny bundle swaddled in pink resting against his chest. He looked at his wife, her hair damp and her face radiant despite her exhaustion.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re perfect.”

Their daughter, Mary-Ann, came home a few days later to a little house with a white picket fence that they had purchased not long before her birth. It was a modest place, but it was theirs, filled with laughter, love, and the chaos that only a toddler and a newborn could bring.

Theo was adjusting to his new role as a big brother with enthusiasm and curiosity. He followed his parents around, always asking to hold the baby or show her his toys. “She likes dinosaurs, right?” he would ask, clutching his favourite plastic stegosaurus.

“She loves dinosaurs,” Max assured him, grinning as he ruffled Theo’s hair.

Max had seamlessly embraced fatherhood, splitting his time between the garage and his family. He spent his evenings teaching Theo how to kick a football in the back garden and his nights rocking Mary-Ann to sleep.

The house, with its picket fence and flowerbeds lovingly tended by his wife, was the picture of the life Max had never imagined for himself. Yet, here he was, living it and loving every moment.

The day of Mary-Ann’s baptism dawned clear and bright, the kind of perfect day that made everything feel just a little more magical. Their little family was dressed in their Sunday best, Theo proudly wearing a bowtie that his mother had wrestled him into after much negotiation, and Mary-Ann bundled in a delicate white christening gown.

They arrived at the church to find her aunt, Danny, and a few close friends waiting for them, just as they had for Theo’s baptism years ago. Her aunt immediately swooped in to coo over Mary-Ann, her face soft with affection.

“She’s the spitting image of you at this age,” her aunt said warmly, brushing a soft curl away from Mary-Ann’s forehead.

“Let’s hope she doesn’t inherit my teenage rebellion,” she joked, glancing at Max, who chuckled.

The service itself was intimate and beautiful. As the pastor spoke, Theo sat on Max’s lap, squirming occasionally but staying quiet enough to earn whispered praise from both his parents. When it came time for the baptism, Max and his wife stood together at the front of the church, Theo holding onto his mother’s hand while Max held Mary-Ann close.

The pastor asked Theo if he wanted to say anything, and the boy puffed out his chest importantly, his tiny voice ringing out through the quiet chapel. “We’re all gonna be... um... part of Chris-tain-ity now!”

There was a soft chuckle from the congregation, but Theo frowned, frustrated by his own mispronunciation. His brows knitted together, and before anyone could stop him, he muttered under his breath, “Damn it.”

Max’s head snapped around, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at his son. “Where did you hear that, Theo?”

Without hesitation, Theo turned and pointed to Danny, who froze mid-grin. “Uncle Daddy says it all the time.”

The entire room dissolved into laughter, but Max’s expression darkened. “His name is Uncle Danny. Not Daddy,” he corrected firmly. He handed Mary-Ann to his wife with exaggerated care and then fixed Danny with a dangerous look. “Uncle Danny also has five seconds to run.”

Danny’s eyes widened as he stammered, “Now, hold on a second—”

“Five.”

Danny bolted toward the back of the church, nearly tripping over a pew. Max didn’t miss a beat, stepping around the altar and charging after him. Theo laughed hysterically as he watched his father chase Danny out the door, and his mother shook her head, trying to stifle her own giggles.

When Max returned a few minutes later, slightly winded but victorious, Danny trailing behind him with a sheepish grin, the ceremony continued. The pastor, who had been struggling to keep a straight face, resumed his blessing, and little Mary-Ann was baptised without further incident.

As they left the church, Theo clung to Max’s hand, his face lit with excitement. “Daddy, can I chase Uncle Danny next time?”

Max ruffled his hair, smirking. “Not until you’re faster than me, kid.”

The two of them loved the life they had built together and sometimes when Max woke up he had to pinch himself. Just under half a decade ago he was eating dry hotdogs and drinking stale beers in a rundown trailer. Now he was helping his wife. His wife. In the kitchen with his two kids. Not one, two. Max was a father and everyday he woke up he couldn’t really believe. it.

The smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafted through the house as she stood at the counter, carefully icing a tray of perfectly golden cupcakes. Mary-Ann was nestled in her baby chair nearby, happily chewing on a soft toy, and the kitchen felt like the warm, beating heart of their home.

Out in the garage, Max had Theo standing on a small step stool by the workbench, his tiny hands gripping a wrench that was far too big for him. Max crouched beside him, guiding his hands as they worked on an old oil pan together. Theo giggled every time Max made a joke, his high-pitched laughter filling the air.

She wiped her hands on her apron, grabbed a glass of iced tea, and wandered outside to watch her boys. Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms and smiled. “Teaching him how to change oil already? He’s four, Max.”

Max turned, his grease-streaked face lighting up when he saw her. “Hey, never too early to learn the basics, right, buddy?”

Theo nodded enthusiastically, smearing a streak of oil across his cheek as he waved the wrench triumphantly. “Mama, I’m helping!”

“I can see that,” she laughed, walking over and kissing the top of his messy hair.

As her gaze wandered around the garage, it landed on their old motorbike, tucked into the corner, its polished chrome gleaming even in the dim light. Her smile turned into a smirk, and she gestured toward it with her glass. “You know, you’re going to have to sell that death trap.”

Max froze mid-laugh, a look of horror crossing his face. “What? No way. We’ve got so many memories with that bike.”

“We have two kids now, Max.”

He frowned, standing up and crossing his arms. “But what if Theo wants it when he grows up?”

She raised an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. “He’s not stepping a foot on that thing.”

Max threw his hands up in exaggerated protest. “Oh, so when it’s us, it’s fine, but when it’s Theo, it’s a problem?”

She grinned, completely unbothered. “Yup.”

Before he could argue further, Danny strolled into the garage, a familiar plastic container in hand. “Alright, where’s the good stuff? I heard there’s baking going on in that kitchen, and you know the deal—Danny gets dibs.”

She laughed, pointing toward the house. “I’ll bring you some in a second. Just made a fresh batch.”

As Danny leaned against the workbench, Max glanced at him, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hey, Danny, you wanna buy that death trap over there?”

Danny raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bike. “How much are we talking?”

Max grinned. “Fifty bucks.”

Danny’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s the catch?”

Max smirked, holding out a hand. “You buy it, but I still get to use it whenever I want.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head but reaching out to shake Max’s hand anyway. “You got yourself a deal, man.”

Max turned to her with a triumphant grin, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans. “See? It’s sold. Problem solved.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiling as she headed back into the house. “You two are impossible.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen, Max knelt back down beside Theo, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Daddy, what’s a death trap?”

Max chuckled, ruffling his hair. “It’s something fun that your mom doesn’t like.”

From the kitchen, she called out, “I heard that!”

While she packed up some of her baked goods for Danny she too thought of how lucky she was. How all her prayers had been listened to. How she finally made it out of that house. How she was going to witness all her own kid’s life milestones with joy and love, not hatred and jealousy. 

The morning of Theo’s first day of school, the sunlight streamed through the windows as the family bustled to get ready. Theo stood proudly in his brand-new school uniform, his backpack almost as big as he was. Mary-Ann, her curls tied up in tiny pigtails, was toddling around in her nursery outfit, clutching her stuffed bunny like it was her lifeline.

Their mother, however, was a whirlwind of emotions. She double-checked Theo’s lunchbox for the third time and nearly forgot to zip Mary-Ann’s coat, all while blinking back tears.

“I can’t believe they’re both going,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she fixed Theo’s collar for the tenth time.

Max, leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee, tried to hide his grin. “Sweetheart, they’re not moving out. It’s just school and nursery.”

She shot him a glare. “Don’t start with me today, Max.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Come here, buddy,” he said, crouching down to Theo’s level. “You ready for your big day?”

Theo nodded, his little chest puffed out. “I’m gonna make so many friends!”

Max ruffled his hair. “That’s my boy. And you,” he added, turning to Mary-Ann and lifting her into his arms. “You take care of those nursery teachers, alright? Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Mary-Ann giggled, planting a slobbery kiss on his cheek.

After a bittersweet drop-off that left her sniffling the entire car ride home, they returned to their now eerily quiet house. For the first time in years, it was just the two of them.

She walked into the living room, glanced at the toys still scattered around, and sighed heavily, sinking into the couch. “It’s too quiet.”

Max sat beside her, pulling her into his side. “I told you this morning was gonna hit you hard.”

She swatted his chest lightly. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the house without one of them here. It’s so empty.” She buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled. “What if they need me? What if Mary-Ann gets scared? Or Theo forgets his lunch?”

Max chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Sweetheart, Theo’s got this. The kid’s practically running for class president. And Mary-Ann? She’s gonna have the nursery wrapped around her finger before lunch.”

She peeked at him from behind her hands, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple.

For a moment, she leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence soothe her. But the silence of the house pressed in again, making her sigh.

Max pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, we’ve got the house all to ourselves now.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Max…”

He grinned, running his fingers lightly up her arm. “I’m just saying. We’ve got a whole empty house and a few hours of peace.”

Despite herself, she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” he countered, leaning closer. “We might never get this chance again, angel. Think about it.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “I can’t believe you’re suggesting this right now.”

“I’m just trying to make the most of the quiet,” he teased, his hand slipping around her waist. “And besides, you’re way too stressed. Let me help you relax.”

She laughed despite herself, the weight of the morning momentarily forgotten as he kissed her neck, his stubble tickling her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, tilting her head to meet his lips, her heart finally feeling a little lighter.

And if she counted the exact weeks, that day was how she ended up pregnant with her third and final child.

Nine months later, their family grew again with the arrival of a boy they named Daniel. It was a tribute to Danny, their ever-reliable friend who had, over the years, become less like a buddy and more like an honorary member of the family.

Daniel came into the world with a loud cry and a shock of dark hair, immediately staking his place in the chaos of their household. Mary-Ann, now three and brimming with sass, had proudly declared herself the "boss" of her new baby brother. She often toddled around after him, dragging her favourite stuffed bunny in one hand and fussing over Daniel like a miniature mother.

Theo, at five, took his role as the eldest sibling very seriously. He loved showing off to Mary-Ann and anyone who’d listen about how he could hold his baby brother “without dropping him” (a feat Max closely supervised with a hovering hand). Theo also began peppering Max with endless questions about how cars worked, proudly announcing that he’d take over the garage one day.

The house was louder now, bursting with life and love in every corner. Daniel’s cries, Theo’s endless chatter, and Mary-Ann’s theatrical storytelling meant there was never a dull moment.

Max had learned to juggle bottles, bedtime stories, and car repairs, often collapsing into bed with her at the end of the day, marvelling at the whirlwind their life had become.

On quieter days—though “quiet” was a stretch—she’d watch Max play with the kids in their backyard. Mary-Ann would climb all over him, Theo would ask a million questions about the engine of a toy car, and baby Daniel would sit in his lap, chewing on whatever he could grab.

Sunday mornings had become a cherished tradition for her. Dressing Theo in his little button-up shirts, coaxing Mary-Ann into tights and her favourite frilly dress, and cradling baby Daniel in his soft onesie all felt like sacred rituals. She loved sharing her faith with her children, teaching them the hymns, and watching their faces light up during Sunday school.

But as much as she loved church, there was always a weight to bear. Her parents still attended the same church, their presence lingering like a spectre of the past. While most of the congregation had embraced her family with warmth, her parents had not. They’d sit on the far side of the pews, casting disapproving glares, and every so often, there were whispers—cutting, cruel words spread by those who believed her parents' version of events.

Still, she focused on her children. Theo beamed when he memorised Bible verses, Mary-Ann proudly showed off her colouring pages, and baby Daniel giggled at the choir. Sharing this part of her life with them felt like reclaiming something pure.

That afternoon, the church hosted a children’s Bible study, and she stayed to help with crafts and snacks while Max wrangled the baby. Daniel was perfectly content napping on his dad’s chest while Max sat in the corner, earning approving glances from the other parents for his patience and attentiveness.

As they packed up to leave, her father appeared, stepping out of the shadows like a storm cloud. His eyes were cold, his expression a mask of disdain. He walked past her, close enough that she could feel the venom in his whispered word:

"Whore."

The word cut through her like a knife. She froze, her heart pounding, the air sucked out of the room. Before she could even react, Max’s voice broke the moment.

"Angel, hold Daniel."

She turned to him, startled, as he handed her the baby with a calmness that belied the fire in his eyes. Then, without hesitation, Max spun on his heel and marched toward her father.

The sound of Max’s fist connecting with her father’s jaw was thunderous in the quiet room. Her father staggered back, clutching his face, as gasps rippled through the remaining churchgoers.

Max stood tall, his voice steady but cold. “Don’t you ever call my wife that again. You lost any right to speak to her the day you hurt her and abused your power. She’s a better person than you’ll ever be.”

Her father glared up at Max, but he didn’t dare rise. The weight of his disgrace was palpable as the onlookers murmured, their judgement no longer directed at her but at the man who had insulted his own daughter in a house of worship.

She stood rooted to the spot, Daniel cradled in her arms, her cheeks flushed. She could feel every eye in the room on her, but the only one that mattered was Max’s. He turned back to her, his expression softening, and strode toward her.

Max placed a gentle hand on her back, his touch grounding her. “Let’s go, angel,” he said quietly, his voice carrying none of the anger from moments before.

She nodded, unable to form words, and followed him out, their children close by. As they left the church, she glanced down at Theo and Mary-Ann, both wide-eyed but clutching each other’s hands tightly.

When they got to the car, she took a deep, shaky breath. “Max—”

He cut her off with a kiss to her temple. “Don’t. You don’t owe him anything. Not even your anger.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into him, Daniel squirming lightly in her arms. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Max tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. “You and these kids are my family. No one, not even him, gets to treat you like that.”

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[zepskies]

Wowowow!! 😍 First of all, thanks so much. You really spoiled me with this review and it totally made my day!

I find it really interesting that this fic is the first one you've read from me, since it's such a "niche" pairing. But I love that you loved it (and my writing 🥰)!! Christmas is my favorite holiday too -- in no small part because of the food! lol I had fun incorporating my family's traditions into this one, and of course, feeding Dean. 😆

Diving into the rest of your amazing (and hilarious) comments below!

(you should know as I'm typing this I am daydreaming about the flan, you should just straight up know that LOL)

Giiiirl, get you some flan! My mom makes it so good. I can't wait for the holidays. 😮‍💨

I am happily being led while pushing Dean out of the way to get to it first. Lovingly of course lol.

lolll I'm dead! I can picture Dean's (playful) outrage. 😂

Not going to lie, I'd be giving Sam a little bit of the stink eye myself. What is so wrong with Dean enjoying himself a little? Besides...give me ALL the flan!!! Sam doesn't know what he's missing.

Right? Don't bother the man on Christmas lmao. Sam ate plenty on this round too, he has no room to judge! 😆

This right here is perfection. It made my heart break for Dean as well as Sam for their childhood, what Dean had to sacrifice at times to take care of Sam, how Sam never realized it before...just so perfectly written and so on point.

Aww thank you. It was an HC of mine that stemmed from bits we got of their childhood, and that one ep where someone was like, "You ever been hungry? Like haven't eaten in days, hungry?" And Dean was like, "Yeah..." 😭😭

I feel like from Sam's POV, he would never have known hunger with Dean around, even when things were tight and they were waiting on John.

Moments like this are worth melting for. 😉 (seriously though, I'm pretty sure I have to call someone to get the wetvac to get me up off of the floor)

LOLL honestly same! Oh for Dean to gather me to his chest in a warm snuggle. 🫠🫠

The whole ending scene just makes my heart glad, especially with her offering to go for a walk with Dean, most likely keeping in mind what Sam said (while Sam is keeping what she said in mind - like I said, perfection!) , but I especially loved the ending sequence right here:

Ahhh you caught what I was laying down there! She cares about Dean's health, but she also cares about his happiness. While Sam's now going to be taking what she said into account and try to have a convo with his brother about it in the future.

Ahaha and he so DOES wear shorts when the need arises! 😏

This was just beyond sweet and it was something I very much needed back when I read through it the first time. (I'm sorry I didn't leave feedback until now! I'm trying to be better about that these days) I love the way you write the Winchesters and this one shot cemented you as one of my favorite writers I've come across in this fandom (as well as a few others 😉).

Aww I'm so glad this little fic could give you some much needed escapism. (It's ok, friend. I'm just grateful that you did!) And that's an amazing compliment, thank you!! I'm honored to be counted as one of your favorites! 😭💜

I definitely cannot wait to dive into the Midnight Espresso verse and get more of these two. You did a beautiful job here, lovely!!! Well done!!! 😊💖💖

I would absolutely love it if you delved deeper into the Midnight Espresso verse!! It's a passion series of mine, so it really means that much more to me that you enjoyed it, as well as left such a heartfelt review. 💕

Get Stuffed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @iprobablyshipit91: Sam making the usual digs at Dean about his diet, and how much he eats, and the reader pulling him aside and telling him to back off as he doesn’t realize how much Dean went hungry as a kid to make sure Sam was fed.

Word Count: 1,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, innuendo, tinge of angst

**This story can be read as stand-alone, but you can also check out the full masterlist of one-shots below. ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.

This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.

He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…

“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.

You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he's seated.

“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”

He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.

“Ohoho, yeah.”

You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.

You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.

“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.

“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.

The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.

“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”

He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk. You glance at him with a smile as you set down the metal pan.

“It is a flan,” you affirm. “I tried my hand at coconut this time.”

“Ooh, tropical,” Dean says, waggling greasy fingers. He wipes them on a napkin before he reaches for the pie cutter, which is usually reserved for his favorite dessert. Although, flan is rapidly becoming his second go-to. The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.

“How can I get you to make this more often?” Dean mutters while carving out a generous slice.

Your lips curve. You rest your chin on your hand and lean towards him, earning his gaze. “If I made it all the time, you wouldn’t savor it, now would you?”

Dean smirks. His gaze lowers to your lips, like he’s contemplating some persuasive maneuvers.

“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer.

You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.

By the end of the meal, all three of you are stuffed. Dean groans and leans back in his seat. A gurgle mounts audibly from his stomach.

“Jesus. Are you erupting?” Sam says.

Dean holds up a finger. “Wait for it.”

You give your boyfriend a bemused look. You know exactly what’s about to happen. As does Sam, who’s grimacing.

A few seconds later, Dean does erupt, with a truly legendary belch.

“Nice,” you say wryly. Dean squeezes your soft, thick thigh and backs his chair away from the table.

“Well, since I roasted the pig and you did the rest, I’d say it’s Sammy’s turn on cleaning duty,” he says.

“Thanks,” Sam says, with a wan smile. Yours is more jovial, even as Dean’s hand toys with a curl of your hair after he stands.

“I’m gonna shower off the meat sweats,” he says.

You giggle, but you nod. “You do that. I’ll help Sam a bit, put away the food at least.”

Your smile becomes more genuine when Dean drops a kiss on your forehead from above.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.

You reach up and give his cheek a tender touch, before he withdraws and makes his way to the bedroom he shares with you. It leaves you and Sam to collect what’s on the table and bring it all into the kitchen. While Sam does the dishes, you start to put away the leftovers.

Something has been nagging at you all night, though you’ve tried to stamp it down time and time again. You don’t know if it's your place to say something. Especially if Dean doesn’t seem bothered…but it bothers you. And you’ve never been one to hold your tongue.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” you begin, even as a small bit of trepidation niggles inside you.

Sam looks over at you. He’s quick to catch the serious note in your demeanor.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he replies. You okay? his eyes also ask.

“Why do you get on Dean so much for enjoying his food?” you ask.

Sam blinks. Then he scoffs a little. “There’s enjoying, and then there’s gluttony.”

“He’s not that bad,” you argue.

“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter.

“So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.

Sam levels you with pinched brows. “He’s not in his 20s anymore. All that crap he eats is going to catch up to him someday.”

“What, you expect him to down some kale smoothies?” you reply, giving a pointed brow raise and a teasing smile. “Get up at the crack of dawn for a bare-chested run?”

Sam shoots you a dry look.  

“My point is, I’m not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks just to get taken down by cholesterol,” he says.

You sigh a raise a placating hand. “All right. I get what you’re saying. I’m just saying…have you ever thought about why he loves food so much? Why he overindulges sometimes?”

Sam's brow quirks. It’s a question you know you need to tread lightly in order to answer. You uncross your arms to lay a hand on Sam’s wrist. He stops washing dishes and turns off the sink to give you his full attention, sensing your shift.

You look up at him, and you steel yourself.

“He might’ve mentioned once…that you two sometimes had a hard time growing up. With John taking you guys from motel to motel while he was working a job, and every now and then, leaving you guys alone longer than he meant to.”

Dean had been more than a bit drunk when you’d gotten this out of him. Hearing about that aspect of his upbringing had upset you, not just as someone who cared about him, but the caretaker in you smarted.

“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.”

Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right.

“You don’t remember?” you gently ask.

Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…”

He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry.

It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.

This isn’t the first time he’s had to reexamine Dean’s role in his life, and not the first time he’s felt this flavor of guilt. But he sighs and really doesn’t know what to say.

You seem to realize that, and you squeeze his arm one last time.

“Just keep that in mind,” you implore.

You soon leave him to venture upstairs, but there in the kitchen, Sam makes a resolution before the new year. One that includes having a conversation with his brother.

You find Dean in your bedroom. Now in his most threadbare sweatpants and an old black shirt, he lays over the covers on the bed. His eyes are closed and his arms are folded behind his head, but he hears you when you come in.

You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.

“Think I overdid it a bit,” he admits, cracking his eyes open. You smile and gently pat his stomach. 

“Wanna go for a walk tomorrow?” you ask. “We can go down to the park.”

Dean raises a brow at you. “You hate walking.”

“Not true,” you shake your head, before you rest more comfortably against him. He tucks you in beside him and begins to run his fingers down your arm. It’s a bit distracting.

“Could be nice, with the right view,” you add, though you shiver a little at his touch.

Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.”

It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at.

You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.”

Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him.

“Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off.

Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”

AN: 😂 A little callback to S1 at the end there. I hope you guys liked this! Just in time to prepare for my Christmas cooking! ❤️💚

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "A Wish to Build a Dream On":

Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

▶️ Next Story: A Wish to Build a Dream On

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[lovegalor333]

can you do a part 3 to safe house please where reader goes back to Allie’s but stays in Paige’s room and they start a relationship?

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

safe house pt 3 (previous part)

summary: loosely based on this request! read previous parts

content warnings: alcohol consumption

You can’t remember the last time you got drunk. While you were with your ex boyfriend, you weren’t allowed to drink or party or have any fun actually but you’re not with him anymore so you can do whatever you want. And that’s why you had a red cup in each hand, one filled with vodka and the other with rum.

You took big gulps from each cup, the harsh bitterness of the alcohol no longer having an effect on you. You didn’t know what time it was, you could have arrived at the party two minutes ago or two hours ago, everything was a blur. It was nice. The constant anxiety that you were so used to living with everyday was slowly dispersing and not just because of the multitude of drinks you had consumed tonight.

You’d been staying at Allies place with her Paige and Jana for almost a month now. Your bruises had faded, you no longer flinched when someone touched you and you slept peacefully every night knowing that you weren’t going to wake up being choked or slapped. OK, not every night, you had nightmares sometimes but you were never alone, the girls held you while you cried every time. Especially Paige, she had a knack for knowing when you needed support and she would wrap her arms around you and rub your back until you could breathe normally again.

Speaking of Paige, you hadn’t seen her in a while, nor Allie or Jana but you just shrugged this off, downing the rest of your drinks, eager to find another. Your steps were staggered and your body swayed as you walked, if you knew any better, you’d stop drinking, go find your friends and make your way home but you didn’t know better. You felt like you had a new sense of life and you wanted to do all the things you missed out on while being in such a toxic relationship and that included getting drunk at frat parties.

You giggled to yourself as you pour more vodka into your cup. Your hand shook and the liquid splashed onto the counter, “Oh shittttt!” Your speech was slurred and slow and you felt dizzy as you spun around looking for paper towels to clean your mess. You couldn’t find any so decided the next best option was your shirt. You stretch the hem of your shirt and used the thin, lacy material to soak up the spilled alcohol. Obviously, this didn’t have the intended effect and you were left with a wet shirt and a bigger mess than before. You cursed under your breath but another sip of alcohol soon had you forgetting about the wet patch and swaying to the music again.

You made your way out of the kitchen, towards the booming speakers, desperate to dance but with your eyes focused on your feet, trying to stay balanced, you didn’t notice as you bumped straight into the chest of a rather large guy.

“Woah there.” He chuckles, hands reaching out to steady you and you allow him to, looking up grinning.

“I’m soooo sorryyyy.” You drawl out and he chuckles again, “It’s OK baby. Gotta watch where you’re going.”

“I just want to dance!” You pout, “Dance with me?” You flutter your lashes at the guy and his eyes rake over you, settling on your chest and you look down to see the top of your bra peaking out of your shirt, your full cleavage on clear display. Using your shirt as a rag had caused it to expose your chest way more than necessary.

“How ‘bout we go to my room? You can dance all you like in there.”

With God knows how much alcohol in your system and lack of better judgment, you slip your hand into his and follow behind him as he leads you through the frat house. He’s walking fast and you can’t keep up, you trip over your own feet, landing on the floor, your knee instantly hurts.

“Owww.” You cry out, clutching your throbbing knee, the entirety of your cup is spilled but you don’t have time to think about any of that because you’re instantly picked by up the guy you just met and you’re on your feet again and he’s leading you to the stairs.

Your steps are slower now because you’re limping but you’re practically being dragged and you feel as though you might fall again but then you feel a grip on your wrist and you’re being dragged in the opposite direction. With your hand still tight in the guys and your wrist being grasped from behind you, you’re being dragged in both directions and you think your arms are going to be ripped off.

“Let her go.” A stern, steady voice says from behind you and you recognise it, “Paigeeeeee!” You cheered as you turned around, coming face to face with the blonde, “I’ve been looking for you!”

“Now you’ve found me. Let’s go.” She says, tugging on your arm.

“Oh noooo I’m OK! We’re going to danceeee.” You reassure and your new buddy does too, “Yeah, I got her.” He says, also tugging on your arm.

“What’s her name?” Paige asks completely deadpan, in fact, she’s full on death glaring and when the guy can’t answer her question, she tugs on you harder until he drops your hand and scurries away.

“You’re no fun.” You sulk, crossing your arms over your body, frowning at Paige.

“And you’re very drunk. And your boobs are out,” She lifts your shirt until your chest is covered again, “and your knee is bleeding. And he definitely did not want to dance.”

“So? I’m si..shingle now.” You fumble over your words.

“Shingle?” Paige laughs and it only makes you frown more, “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know. All too well. Let’s go home.” She says grabbing your hand.

“Oh! I loooveeeee that song! Ten minute version! I walked through the door with you…” You began belting out the lyrics to All Too Well (10 minute version) as Paige guided you out of the frat house and you laughed as you walked through a door as you sang that exact lyric.

“And the air isssss cold.” You laugh again as you step into the street.

“OH YOUR SWEET DIS-DISPO-DISPOSITION!” You continue to perform as you walk hand in hand with Paige.

“What even is disposition? I’m sure yours is sweet whatever it is.” You lean into Paige, suddenly feeling very unsteady and she wraps your arm over her shoulder, her own hooking around your waist and she pretty much carries you all the way home while you butcher the lyrics to Taylor Swift.

By the time you reach the apartment, all your body weight is leant on Paige and she holds you strong and firm as she unlocks the door. You trip and stumble as you walk but she doesn’t let you fall, “Home stretch ma, just a few more steps.” She tells you before you feel the soft surface of a bed beneath you. The covers are fluffy and lilac, “This is your bed.” You say as if she doesn’t know. “Uh huh.” Is all she says as you feel her taking off your shoes.

You lay looking up at Paiges ceiling and you hear her shuffle around her room. Her bed is really comfortable you think to yourself.

Your knee begins to sting and you flinch, “It’s OK. I’m just wiping your knee.” Paiges voice is soft and gentle and she rubs your leg comfortingly. “You’re good at that.” You mumble, “Fixing me up.”

“I got you.”

“Thank you.” You voice is croaky and dry as you sit yourself up to look at your knee and the room spins, “The room is spinning.” You groan, holding a hand to your head.

“I’ll get you some water. Stay there.” Paige instructed and she left you alone in her room. Your wet shirt clung to you in an uncomfortable way and you tussle with it to get it over your head before throwing it on the floor.

“Oh…” Paige clears her throat as she comes back with a bottle of water, “It was wet.” You motion to your discarded shirt, “I’ll get you a clean one.” She says and hands you the bottle of water which you gladly take and gulp down, desperate for hydration.

Paige slips a t-shirt over your head and helps you thread your arms through and you look down, recognising the grey, UConn Basketball shirt you’ve seen her wear so many times, “Suits you.” She remarks and you grin up at her from your place on the edge of her bed, “Thank you, Paige. For everything. All the things you’ve done for me. No one’s ever done that for me before.” You admit as sobriety starts to slip in.

“Of course. I couldn’t just stand back and watch you get hurt.”

You reach out for Paiges hand as she stands in front of you and you hold it tenderly before bringing it to your mouth and pressing a soft kiss to it. You look up at Paige through your eyelashes and she’s looking down at you, eyes blue as ever, cheeks slightly flushed, “Can I sleep in here tonight?” You ask timidly and Paige nods, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No. I want to sleep in here…with you…please.” You mutter, hand still linked with Paiges, her calloused palm pressed against yours.

“You’re drunk…” She warns but you shake your head, “I know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Trust me, I do. Just lay with me tonight.” You shuffle back onto Paiges bed, pulling her with you and she doesn’t argue. She kicks her shoes off before laying down beside you, still holding your hand.

“I never knew it was meant to feel like this. So safe and secure.” You ramble on, unable to stop the words from spewing out, “And maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you. Why it’s you who I want when I wake up crying. I don’t know if you meant to do this but you’ve showed me what it’s like to be truly cared for. I think I’m falling for you.”

The air is charged and there’s a long uncomfortable silence as your words hang between you both as you lay side by side.

“Get some sleep. You’ve had a lot to drink and you’re not going to remember anything in the morning.” Paige says, staring at her ceiling.

“I will.” You argue but you listen to her and close your eyes, moving your head to rest on her shoulder as you drift off to sleep, the taste of spirits still strong in your mouth and your heart racing from your drunken confession.

You wake up feeling like your head has been crushed under a hydraulic press. You groan as your eyes flutter open and then you gasp, waking up to Paige underneath you, your head rested on her chest, arm flung over her torso.

“What the fuck?” You mutter under your breath, noticing you’re wearing her top and that her arm is wrapped around you keeping you pressed to her. “Paige!” You hiss nudging her awake and it takes a moment but she begins to stir before slowly peeling her eyes open.

“I bet your head hurts like a motherfucker.” She grumbles, voice husky, thick with tiredness.

“You can say that again.” You squeeze your eyes shut hoping that blocking out the stream of daylight coming through the curtains will ease your pounding head. It doesn’t.

“What happened last night?” You ask apprehensively, pushing yourself up and off of Paige. She stays laying down, staring up at you, her eyes searching yours for a lightbulb moment but it doesn’t come. You have no memory of last night at all.

“You don’t remember?” She asks also pushing herself up so you’re both sitting. She’s still fully dressed and you’re still clad in your skirt from the night before so you know nothing happened between you but the atmosphere is charged like there’s something unspoken just hanging in the air.

“No. Not a thing. Did I embarrass myself?” You ask, cheeks heating at the thought of you doing something you’ll regret.

Paige shakes her head, “No. You were just really drunk. Tried going to a random dudes room so I brought you home.”

“Oh God. Thanks for stopping that.” You place a hand on Paiges knee and she has a reaction that you can’t quite place, “How comes I’m in here?” You ask, referring to her room. You either slept with Allie or on the couch.

“You asked to sleep in here.” She tells you and breaks eye contact, standing from the bed. She was acting weird. Fidgety and awkward. This wasn’t Paige.

“Did I do something to upset you?” You ask, guilt starting to slip in. You were used to being blamed for everything so it was only right Paiges mood was caused by you.

“No. No, of course not.” She reassured you but her body language said otherwise, “Then what is it?” You press, starting to feel awkward yourself, sat in her bed, wearing her top.

“You really don’t remember?”

“Obviously not. Can you just tell me?”

“You were drunk-“

“Yeah I got that part.”

“You were drunk and you asked to sleep in here…with me so we layed down together and you said you felt safe and secure. You said you can’t stop thinking about me…” Paige trails off but she doesn’t need to say anything more because everything comes flooding back to you, “I said I think I’m falling for you.” You say, repeating your alcohol induced confession.

Paige nods, “Fuckkk.” You groan, flopping back on her bed, covering your face with your hands, “I’m sorry. I was drunk and I shouldn’t have said that and now I’ve made things weird when you’ve been so good to me.” Your voice is muffled as you keep your hands pressed to your face, not daring to look at Paige.

“You haven’t made things weird. I didn’t know you felt like that. You caught me off guard.” Paige says and you feel the bed dip as she sits on it.

“Off guard in a bad way…or a good way?” You ask, not sure if you want to hear the answer.

Spending the past month with Paige had been confusing and you put it down to the repercussions of such an awful relationship but the more time you spent alone, watching movies, cooking, eating, talking, laughing, crying and actually being treated right, you realised that your feelings for Paige weren’t strictly platonic. You had no plan on telling her that though. To you, Paige saw you as a victim, someone who needed saving and she was kind enough to do that and you had taken that kindness and made it something it wasn’t and you were sure Paige saw you as just a friend.

“Not in a bad way. You’re beautiful and funny and you deserve the best in life but-“

“But I’m damaged goods.” You mutter, you had allowed yourself to be used and abused for a long time and then Paige watched you throw yourself at a random guy last night, you were crazy to think she’d want you.

“No, that’s not what I was going to say,” She turns to look at you and you have your knees tucked up to your chest, back rested against her headboard, “you’ve been through a lot. You’re going through a lot. I didn’t want to take advantage of that.” Paige says softly and you feel yourself melt. She has a way with words that makes your stomach flutter.

“I just want to forget about that. You help me forget about that. But I don’t want to be a charity case.”

“You’re not a charity case. Not to me.”

“What am I, to you?”

Paige stays silent but she moves closer to you, close enough to touch but ahe doesn’t reach out and your skin burns with need.

“You’re someone I care about…deeply. I want to spend all my time with you. I do spend all my time with you. You have something that I just can’t get enough of. I want to show you what it’s like to be loved…for real. Real, wholesome love. If you’ll let me.

Will you let me?”

Your heart is beating in your ears at this point and you’re staring at Paige, eyes soft and yearning and you can’t hold back from touching her any longer so you fling your arms around her, pulling her as close to you as she can get. Her arms find their way around your waist, hugging you back, your face is nestled into her neck, the scent of last nights cologne still strong, “I’ll let you.”

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: think i might take a break from writing once i get through some requests. my mental health is downnn atm and it’s making me hate everything i write 😕

[wyrmswears]

wyrm thinking about jordana do you want to talk about your thoughts 👂

ok it was 2am so i saw this ask, thought to myself damn id be incomprehensible, and went to sleep to get up in time for my 9am lecture. BUT!!! yes i would like to share my thoughts.

first of all, ive been rotating lightning master au in my head a Lot. like tumblr doesnt even know a fifth of what ive got going on there. so ill share a little bit keep the general public updated nod nod (though im always happy to elaborate). jordana is so ignorant to non-imperium cultures and thats really fun to explore because it means that she knows little about elemental powers and even less about the significance of lightning in particular. at first jordana assumes that it was one of the new elements created by the merged (because, well, lightning sounds like a bit of a niche) and has no clue about the 'finding a new host' thing.

He was likely the holder of a new element created by the Merge, as so many now were. And just as quickly as the Merge had created it, Ras had destroyed it.

not to mention, almost every realm outside of imperium learnt the significance of the ninja in the aftermath of the merge, with them being such an important part of ninjago's culture. even as the rest of imperium became more open and started interacting with other cultures, jordana went with ras, continuing her isolation and only ever learning of the wyldness.

all this is to say that she is woefully unprepared for the reaction people would have towards her element.

“The most shocking competitor of the tournament!” A burst of amusement at the pun, courtesy of Jay. “Jordana - master of Lightning!”

For a brief second Jordana enjoyed the shocked look that washed over the ninja, but as the expressions of shock turned to dread, her smug smile twisted into an uneasy frown.

The arena and stands had fallen into eerie silence. Jordana felt like she was missing out on the punchline of a joke, a common feeling having grown up isolated in Imperium’s culture and more recently finding herself surrounded by citizens of the Merged Realms, all of which had learnt from and shared with and found understanding in one another.

There was common knowledge underlying the dread, she knew. She just didn’t know what it was until one of the ninja - the master of Earth - stepped forwards.

“Your element is… lightning?”

Her hand found its way to her chest, rubbing above where her heart would be. “What does that matter?” She said, not dismissively but with fear creeping into her voice.

the tournament is an awful place to realise the significance of your situation. surrounded by friends of the ninja and a city of people who know far more about elemental powers than jordana, who has held the element of lightning for maybe a month at this point. all of whom know what it means for jordana to be the master of lightning, far more than she herself does. to jordana, every ounce that someone cares about jay is an ounce less that they care about her. the silence as an entire city of people understands and processes and starts to mourn the death of jay is the backing track to when peoples perception of jordana changes from a kid participating in a competition to an enemy. effectively through her introduction she has made a far greater enemy of herself than she has ever been considered before

so silly that jays attempt to give jordana protection (by passing on his element to her, hoping that it would defend her against ras) instead leads to her persecution at the hands of the ninja and allies

anyway. breaking out of lightning master au, lets trans jordanas gender. i think this would save her. i really do.

oh fuck i have another lecture uh. more thoughts later

[nhlclover]

𝐇𝐄𝐘!

madeleine chase x will smith

madeleine sees the tweets about wills comments, her interest piquing as she learns about him (wc; 1.1k)

༉‧₊˚. ꒰ notes! ꒱ just a reminder that jayden is an oc! also a little insight into maddie and how she feels about will

au masterlist

“Hey, have you heard of a Will Smith?” Madeleine asked, leaning over to give Jayden a playful pinch on the arm.

Jayden glanced up from the pair of jeans she was stitching patches of fabric onto, her eyebrows raised in confusion. “Uh, yeah, duh. Men in Black? Fresh Prince?” She wiggled her fingers for dramatic effect like she was casting a spell or something.

Madeleine rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a soft sigh. “No, not the actor. This Will Smith plays hockey.”

Jayden’s nose scrunched as she looked like she was scanning her memories to see if it rang a bell. She glanced back at her sewing as she came up empty. “Hmmm, no clue,” she finally said, her lips curving into a playful grin. “But, I feel like hockey guys are normally hot… is he?”

Madeleine snorted, scrolling through her phone. Her screen was lit up with notifications — tweets, comments, even a few random tags — about Will Smith. A wave of excitement washed over her as she scanned the comments: ‘he’s so in love with her,’ ‘omg please let them be the taylor and travis of the nhl,’ ‘this would be the hottest couple.’ Her heart fluttered. The whole thing felt ridiculous, but there was a part of her that couldn’t stop smiling.

“I mean… yeah,” Madeleine admitted, her voice light. “Pretty attractive. Tall, athletic, you know the type.”

Jayden gave her a knowing smirk, not looking up from her stitches. “Why are you asking about him, though?”

Madeleine bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase it without sounding like she was bragging. She scrolled a little further, her thumb hesitating before she answered. “Apparently… this guy went on a podcast and said he has a crush on me. Now, a bunch of people are freaking out on Twitter about it.”

She tapped over to YouTube, pulling up the podcast that everyone was talking about. After skipping through the intro and some chatter, Madeleine found the moment: the hosts asked Will about his celebrity crush, and without missing a beat, he said her name. A grin spread across his face, and he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. The boyish smile made her stomach flip. There was something about the way he said it, as if he was just a regular guy, not a professional hockey player with fans swooning over him.

“He's kind of… adorable,” Madeleine murmured under her breath, her heart skipping a beat. She glanced over at Jayden, who was still watching her curiously, her fingers resting lightly on the fabric in front of her.

“Adorable?” Jayden echoed with a raised brow, her lips twitching into a teasing smile.

Madeleine shook her head, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across her cheeks. She swiped off the podcast and switched to Instagram, quickly typing in Will Smith’s name. It didn’t take long to find him — there he was, his profile filled with pictures of him on the ice, hanging out with teammates, and, of course, a few casual selfies. In every photo, he looked effortlessly charming, that same confident smile lighting up his face. It made her stomach flutter more than she wanted to admit.

“Okay, he’s definitely hot,” she mumbled, more to herself than to Jayden, but her friend still caught it.

Jayden snickered, her attention drifting back to her sewing. “Told you. Hockey guys. Always.”

Madeleine kept scrolling, her fingers absentmindedly moving from one picture to the next until she landed on something that made her pause. A message. Sitting right at the top of her DMs: ‘hey :)’. She blinked, half expecting it to disappear, but there it was — simple, casual, and from Will himself.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, barely able to contain her excitement. “He DM’ed me.”

Jayden’s needle fell from her hand, her eyes wide as she dropped everything. “No way. What did he say?” Her voice dropped to a dramatic, slightly sarcastic whisper as if this was the most scandalous thing she’d ever heard.

Madeleine rolled her eyes, though her grin was impossible to hide. “Just ‘hey’ with a smiley face.” She held up her phone, showing the message to Jayden, who leaned in for a closer look.

"Wow, clever line." Jayden joked, rolling her eyes. "Y'know, straight guys are actually terrible at picking up girls."

"Okay, focus please?" Madeleine said, drawing her friends attention back to the situation at hand.

“Right... So, are you gonna answer?”

Madeleine stared at the message, her mind racing. Should she? Was this a big deal or just harmless fun?

“I don’t know,” Madeleine admitted, biting her lip. “I mean, it’s kind of surreal, right? A hockey player I’ve never met just says he has a crush on me, and now he’s sliding into my DMs.”

Jayden shrugged, a teasing smile on her lips. “Yeah, but you could at least see where it goes. He’s obviously into you, and worst-case scenario, you don’t vibe, and that’s it. Best case? You become a new athlete-popstar power couple. Just imagine that.”

Madeleine couldn’t help but laugh, but the thought lingered in her mind as she scrolled through Will’s Instagram again. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to respond. After all, he seemed nice, genuine even, and her curiosity was definitely piqued. What harm could a simple reply do?

“What should I even say?” Madeleine asked, her fingers hovering over the keypad.

Jayden thought for a second. “Just say ‘hey’ back.” she shrugged. “It’s simple, and that way you can make him start the conversation.”

She typed, paused, and then erased her message twice before settling on something simple, mirroring his tone.

‘hi!’

With a squeal, Madeleine clicked send, tossing her phone on the table. “Okay, I sent it.”

“Look at you, making the first move!” Jayden said, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

“I mean, technically he made the first move by shooting his shot on a podcast and DM’ing me,” Madeleine commented.

Madeleine leaned back, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Whether it turned into something or not, it was exciting, and maybe, just maybe, it would lead to something more than just a cute DM.

[raveninfog]

Secrecy.

Authors note- hi everyone! I’m pretty new to all this and this is my first shot at writing. I’ve always been a spectator, just waiting on amazing authors to update their fics to reading one shots in the middle of the night cause I can’t sleep. I’ve always had ideas in my head about how I’d write and I decided to finally give it a try. Hopefully you’d all enjoy it. Also with that being said, please don’t be afraid to give me some advice on how I can get better as time goes on. 🫶🏼

Enjoy my loves!

Warnings- flirting, light swearing, nicknames, based in the late 40s. Kissing. Sneaking around, Best friend’s older brother. Sergeant James Barnes. Reader is 20 while Bucky is 24.

Genre- Oneshot! Fluff! Best Friends Brother.

You were sitting there at the dining table with your best friend Rebecca. Working on a school project you had to finish with her for your history class. Books laid out in front of you, papers, pencils. The sound of the front door opening was heard since the dining room was right by the front door of the small home. It was him, Rebecca’s older brother bucky. He was home from the base quite early today.

You’ve had a crush on him for a while, how couldn’t you? He was a sergeant, in the military, about to go fight in the war in a couple months. That crush reciprocated from Bucky, it had seemed like he felt the same way about you too. Which later came out to be very true. So you two had a little secret, a little secret relationship..no one knew about.

Not even Rebecca.

As you saw Rebecca get up and go to the kitchen to grab some snacks, Bucky came up behind you. He knew this was the perfect time too. The kitchen wall blocked off the area of the living room you were in. Your head turning to the side to where he was as you heard him, before he leaned in and kissed your lips passionately. His lips met in a fiery clash, soft yet insistent, moving with a rhythm that spoke of longing and urgency with yours. The warmth of his touch was intoxicating, every brush sending shivers down your spine. It was the way your lips fit perfectly within his, moving in sync, that made everything else fade into the background—a perfect balance of softness and intensity, leaving you two breathless and wanting more.

His lips were pliant and eager, parting slightly to deepen the connection, to draw the you closer. There was a slight pressure, firm and deliberate, as if to imprint the moment into a memory. The sensation was both tender and consuming, each movement speaking of unspoken words, of desire that couldn't be contained.

You were caught off guard of course, especially when you had turned your head and there was your boyfriend. You felt his lips on yours, before closing your eyes and kissing him back. The way he had bent down and had his hand on the back of your head, tilted upwards to get a good angle of your perfect lips on his . The warmth of your own breath and his mingled, and the world around you two faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of your hearts and lips together.

“Is this how you say hello?...” you whispered to him in between kisses, when you pulled away just slightly for him to capture your lips again in a split second for a moment.

You could feel him pull away, to see if Rebecca was still in the kitchen. Hell, he could hear Rebecca going through the cabinets to find snacks or something.

To his luck, she was still in the kitchen. You had felt his lips right back on yours once again without even saying a single thing to you until he had finally pulled away to speak. He rested his forehead against yours, his thumb moving onto your cheek bone and caressing it gently before his thumb slid down to your bottom lip doing the same.

His lips curled into a soft smirk, his perfect little doll he absolutely adored with all his god damn being. It was almost surprisingly how Rebecca didn’t notice her big brother look at her own best friend with love in his eyes for you.

“What else do you want? A little love tap?” He teased you as he ran his thumb against your chin now.

You finally felt him pull his hands away from you, standing up straight as he fixed his uniform and took a shuffle back just in time as Rebecca had made her way back with some tea she had made. God, Rebecca was so oblivious to the point where it felt too easy. Too easy to the point it felt god damn suspicious.

“Let’s get this project over with so we can go to bed, unless you want Bucky to drive you home Y/N.” Becca said, setting the mug of tea in front you before taking a seat in the chair. Her face having a clear look of annoyance at the papers in front of her.

Bucky turned his head, looking at his little sister because he took a glance at you and cleared his throat a little.

“Why not tell dad to drop her off?” He spoke up. It felt like torture to say that, but he knew he had to play the game of keeping the relationship a secret.

Rebecca rolled her eyes and looked at her older brother before snickering at him.

“Well hello to you too, Why wouldn’t you wanna drop your girlfriend off?”

“WHAT?!” You and Bucky say in sync, shock spreading on his face while your cheeks turned completely red.

“What do you mean wha- oh come on, did you guys REALLY think I was that stupid..you guys aren’t exactly the best at hiding things. Especially since you two are always making out somewhere in the damn house.”

Buckys cheeks turned red as he rubbed the back of his neck, he honestly didn’t know what the hell to say to his little sisters revelation about her knowing everything. Clearly you were embarrassed, not to mention shocked about your best friend knowing. God you knew you and Bucky weren’t ever gonna hear the end of this. Not in a bad way really, more in an annoying way where she’d bring it up at every occasion she sees.

“Uh well…I-If that’s the case then yeah..I’ll drop Y/N off…unless she’s sleeping over.” Bucky said, before clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Ugh pervert..” Becca muttered in disgusted.

[sturnina]

🕷 — Spray Cans and Web Shooters

Spiderman!Chris x Delinquent!reader AU

— summary;; when two coincidences cause the hero of the city to come across a graffiti artist…

— wc;; 1.5k

— trigger warning;; none! (yet)

— author‘s note;; idk, this feels more like a full fic than an au. maybe i'll just make it an oneshot collection

The afternoon Spider-Man decides to differ from his usual patrol routine is the day his life changes forever. Naturally, he won’t realise that until much, much later, and even then, he won’t be able to recall what exactly happened to throw him off the rails so badly. But for now, let’s focus on this one afternoon and what made it so special.

It has been a long and exhausting for Chris Sturniolo, “A long ass annoying shit day,” to use his own words. He doesn’t speak them to anyone, instead cursing them under his breath while swinging through the city on his usual route.

The people don’t notice anything being wrong. For them, it’s just another slow, boring work day, with the joyful outlook to a calm evening. Which Chris doesn’t have, not for today. He‘s glad they don’t notice, though, as he continues swinging from one building to the other, through narrow alleyways, all while still keeping an eye out for trouble. It’s his job, after all.

But there is nothing, no one who needs him. He is relieved about this — of course he is, less crimes means less bad people means more good people means more goodness in this world… right? It also means less work for him. Less headache. But he wouldn’t admit that, at least not aloud.

Chris decides to give up. For today, he’s had enough to worry about. He swings back to the alley where he left his backpack and the skateboard before crossing the city again, over to the old railway station right outside the city.

The way there takes Chris longer than expected, but he finally slings his webs to the last transmission tower before landing on the roof of the station. But the second he finds footing, his spider-sense goes off.

He‘s not alone. Great.

Groaning, he crouches down, burying his head in his hands. So much to skateboarding in peace and blowing off steam. Well, he could just find another place. But… nah. Instead, he uses his webs to stick the skateboard to the roof and looks for a hole, slowly lowering himself into the hall while holding onto a string of web.

The first thing he sees is a girl, staring at an empty wall. The lower part of her face is covered by a piece of cloth, and she’s holding a spray can. You see, normally he wouldn’t care. But today, he’s had enough things fuck his mood up.

He lets go with one hand and shoots a string of webs through the hall. It lands directly on the wrist of the girl, pinning her to the wall. The sounds of the spray can rolling over the floor and her surprised yelp are more satisfying to him than they should be.

Your day? Boring, to say the least. The shift at the garage was especially short since your boss decided to close earlier than usual, due to a lack of customers. At least he paid well. It was less than usual but according to your estimate still more than you should’ve got for today’s work. You’re not complaining, though.

The entire friend group is at work still, scattered around the city, while you make your way through the streets. Technically, you could go visit some of them… Nah. You can’t even remember half of their workplaces, why worry about finding them?

Plugging in your old headphones, you fall into a faster pace, half jogging, half skipping through the alleyways. You are meant to meet up with your friends anyway, so you decide to arrive there early. About an hour early. Whatever, passing time on your own isn’t difficult. Especially because you can feel the weight of two fresh spray cans in your bag.

Heartbeat quickening with anticipation, you pick up your pace, now running down the streets until you reach the bike stand where your priciest possession stands. Maybe not your favourite, since you still hope to get a motorbike one day, but definitely the one you worry about the most. If your bike gets stolen, the city sure as hell gets ripped apart until you find it again. That shit cost a ton of money you’d saved over almost a year, despite being secondhand.

Having fastened the bag on the rack, you jump on the bike and start cycling down the street until you find the train tracks. Following them until the street turns into bumpy ground, and the houses around you slowly disappear, replaced by fields.

And then the abandoned railway station appears in your vision, and you speed up your pace, even though you’re already panting with the effort. Standing up on the bike helps, and you feel a cool breeze run through your hair.

There’s a fence separating the station from the road, but that’s not stopping you. After making sure the bike is locked and secured, you grab your bag and turn the volume of the music slightly down while wandering off the road, following the fence through the grass up to your thighs. Quietly humming along to the music as the song changes, you glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re alone before crouching down and cautiously crawling through an opening in the fence. It wouldn’t be the first time to rip your clothes on the spiky ends, but you manage to come out in one piece.

Now it’s time to hurry before anyone sees you. You run along the train tracks until your steps start echoing and you’re standing in the huge hall that once was a busy industrial railway. The company probably went bankrupt or something, leaving it abandoned, you can’t really be bothered to care.

All you care about is the space this place offers. Except for a few smaller, closed-off rooms, there’s just this huge hall with broken windows. Well, some of them are still intact, but they’re mostly the ones higher up, where people can’t throw stones. Not that you would’ve tried.

In one corner of the hall, there’s a mess of old bottles, glass shards and ashes from old fires. That’s not where you’re headed now, though, you’re walking to one of the last empty spots on the wall. You could just cover someone else’s graffiti, but most of the people who come here don’t like that.

Staring at the wall, you take out one earplug to make sure you’ll hear when someone enters, and wrap a piece of fabric around your nose and mouth. After working in a car workshop for two years, you’re well aware that it’s not enough protection. But hey, at least you’re wearing something. And honestly? It looks cooler than wearing nothing.

But before you can set the first stroke with the paint, your arm slams against the wall. The spray can hits the stone with a loud clang, gets repelled and rolls across the hall, continuously emitting a metallic noise.

Your eyes dart up to your hand. It sticks to the wall, no matter how hard you try to pull it away. And it’s covered in some kind of white, sticky stuff, almost like…

“Destroying public property?” someone asks, and your head snaps around. Unheard by you, someone entered the hall. But not just anyone.

With wide eyes, you stare at the figure… hanging only a few feet in front of you. Covered in a red suit, Spider-Man looks at you, dangling upside-down from the roof.

“That’s not very nice, you know,” he adds, nodding to your bag. The other graffiti cans are clearly visible.

After overcoming the initial shock, you’re able to relax your shoulders and look him in the eyes — or, well, where his eyes would be if they weren’t covered by pieces of white fabric.

“What are you gonna do, get me arrested?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I just might,” he replies, his head turning slightly, indicating that he’s looking at the wall behind you now. “But looking at your record, I don’t think that would help…”

Face paling and heartbeat quickening, you let his words sink in. Does he know you? Your voice is tense when you speak. “What do you know about me?”

“Oh, was I right?” he asks, letting out a little laugh. “I wasn’t sure. Was a shot in the dark.”

“Fuck you,” you grumble, eyebrows furrowing. The fact that he guessed it so quickly annoys you. Are you so easy to see through?

Spider-Man shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun,” he says before dropping himself, turning in the air at the last moment, and catching himself with bending knees and one hand to the ground.

“Very impressive,” you mutter sarcastically to cover up the shame that this is the first time you’ve seen him in person. What is he even doing here? Isn’t he supposed to be catching crime in the city, not sticking innocent graffiti artists to walls in the suburbs?

Before you can voice the question, he shoots his webs to the roof and swings up.

“Hey!” you shout, your voice echoing in the hall. “What about me?”

“It’ll dissolve in an hour,” he calls back, sitting on one of the beams supporting the massive roof. “Until then… you can think about what you wanted to do and why it’s bad! Very bad!”

And then he just swings away, as if nothing ever happened. What the fuck?

— tags;; @fallininlust @bluestriips @wh0remikasas (tell me if you want to be tagged <3)

[asrielinfected]

Too Much to Drink, Pt 2

Part one

Paring: Tara Carpenter x Female Reader

Summary: You woken up to messages related to the party you went to last night. Also along with the weird encounter you had with Tara Carpenter.

Warning: Profanity

Words counted: 900+

You knew damn well you’ll have to talk to Tara about your interaction yesterday at the party.

You had two choices.

Either have a long deep conversation with Tara about yesterday, or act completely oblivious about what happened yesterday, and blame it on you being drunk.

You obviously didn’t want to confess your feelings, and have a long awkward talk with Tara so you decided to go with the second option.

You hesitated before texting her.

“Morning Tar, talk about what?”

Less than 15 second Y/N already got a reply back.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Come to my apartment in 10 minutes.”

Well now you’re really screwed. 10 minutes isn’t even enough for you to take a shower, brush your teeth, and get dressed!

So you groaned as you got off your bed. You grabbed your keys, and put on your shoes as you leave your apartment.

You leave your apartment building, still in your clothes from yesterday since you never got the chance to change.

It was about a five minute drive to Tara’s.

When you came into Tara’s apartment you were met with Samantha Carpenter staring at you intimidatingly.

Tara’s sister didn’t really trust you since she is really overprotective over her younger sister.

You aren’t Woodsboro and met Tara and the rest of your friends in Blackmore University.

The awkward silence was broken when Tara came out, “Y/N. finally you’re here. Come.”

“Dont forget to leave the door open,” Sam said, her eyes still not leaving you until you, and Tara left to go to her room.

As you left to go to the younger Carpenter’s room you sat at the edge of her bed as Tara continued to stand up.

“Y/N. I know you were drunk and I was too, but I need you to explain in detail what you did last night,” The Carpenter sighed and looked at you waiting for your response.

You nervously turned away from her. As you opened your mouth just to lie.

“All I remember was having too many drinks and passing out on a couch. Why is this even important, Tar?”

“Why can’t you just fes up, Y/N. When you lie you always look away from the person you’re lying to. You’re also responsible when drinking, so what the hell is going on!?”

Now you really do have no choice.

You started to get angry at the fact that there was no way out of it. I mean it wasn’t like it was your fault you had feelings for her!

“You want the fucking truth!? I’m in love with you Tara. And it fucking hurts like hell. So obviously when I saw you kissing another guy at the party I got jealous!”

You took a deep breath and calmed yourself down.

“After that, I went to drink some alcohol to drown the burning feeling of seeing you kiss someone else. And at some point I think I may had kissed you. But everything goes black after that point,” You confessed

Tara stayed silent. Looking everywhere but your face.

You started to get irritated again, because Tara made you come to her apartment, as quickly as possible, but yet had nothing to say.

“This was a waste of my fucking time. I’m going back to my apartment.”

You got off of Tara Carpenter’s bed and started to head to leave her room, but you were stopped by a hand that was holding yours so you couldn’t leave yet.

“Y/N, I kissed you back yesterday.”

Now that you remember clearly. She did reciprocate the kiss you guys shared last night.

You were really drunk. You happened to forget a lot of things that occurred last night

You turned around and faced Tara.

“I have feelings for you too, Y/N. I was the reason you were force to come yesterday. I wanted to find a guy to flirt with to make you jealous. And now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t the greatest idea,”

Tara Carpenter snickers

“But when I saw you were talking about some shit with Chad, I kissed the dude I was flirting with. And you already know the rest of what happened at the party.”

“Then why would you even ask me what happened yesterday if you already knew? Also you can’t just play with my feelings like that. But I am honestly overfilled with joy right now, but-”

Tara cut you off and grabbed your chin, “Y/N be quiet,”

Tara then kissed you again. Even though the kiss didn’t last long you still enjoyed every moment of it.

Until her sister came in. You could already tell she heard everything.

And you didn’t hesitate to leave quickly, because you weren’t going to stick around for you or Tara to be yelled at by Sam.

When you finally got home you took your shoes off and relaxed in your bed for a moment until you got a message from Tara.

“I just got lectured by Sam for 30 minutes. Worth it though.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter when you read the message.

Y/N: “Deserved”

Tara: “Fuck off”

Y/N: I love you though”

Tara: Love you too, asshole”

Author’s note: Guys I got a little lazy at the end of the story, sorry🥲

[chloesimaginationthings]

Abby will have beef with toy Bonnie in FNAF 2..

[mccleans]

i've gone to sleep angry and woken up angry every day since last saturday

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.