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#i stayed up all night again oops and i have PLANS today and now i want to cancel all of them
cloudbells · 4 months
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Chronicles of a girl who has zero clue how to draw hair
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Also I'm getting better. There were like 5 other (worse) versions of this same drawing before this one. I know the perspective is off (why can we see the back of his neck with a side view user cloudbells????) amongst various other things but it's IMPROVEMENT and I'll take it.
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futureman · 11 months
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keep it on the low
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: just because you and joel broke up doesn't mean you can't still (secretly) enjoy each other's company
warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, hurt/angst, ex!joel, possessive!joel, pwp, smut, post-breakup sex, rough sex, mild exhibitionism
word count: 3k
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a/n: all i can say is oops. blame sza, i guess. and of course, couch gif for obvious reasons. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!
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Joel’s being obvious again. Discretion’s never been his strong suit, but he’s especially attuned to you today, and not in a good way. He’s not undressing you with his eyes, itching for the moment he can take you home like he usually is.
Nope, he just looks irritated as fuck. Way too angry for someone who just happens to be sitting in the same room as his ex. If he keeps this up, you’re going to get caught, and then what are you going to do? Fuck other people?
Like that’ll ever happen. You and Joel broke up almost three months ago and yet here you are, still hooking up like there’s no one else in this town to have sex with. But you have an agreement…sort of. You keep sleeping together, you don’t talk about it, and you definitely don’t tell anyone else. It’s high school-level dramatic and, honestly, you’re both way too old for this shit.
You know everyone’s gossiping about you behind your back, trying to figure out why you’re not together anymore. It was a bad breakup, probably the worst you’ve ever had and the biggest Jackson’s ever seen. The second this town hall is over, they’ll all be chatting amongst themselves, analyzing your behavior like it’s any of their business.
And Joel’s only giving them more to talk about. Seriously, why is he staring at you like that? If you can keep your eyes to yourself for an hour, surely he can at least pretend to be listening to what Maria’s saying, even though it’s boring as hell and doesn’t apply to either of you in the slightest. The winter dance next week really isn't your thing, no offense to her, but at least you're trying to look interested.
You shoot him a quick glare across the room, and he rolls his eyes, finally shifting his focus elsewhere. Apparently, that little interaction is all it takes to stir up the gossip mill because you can already hear a few of the worst offenders whispering to each other.
Fucking vultures. You’re pretty sure half of them are trying to make a move on Joel now that you’re over. Too bad he’s still busy spending his nights buried inside you.
The meeting ends pretty quickly after that, and everyone gets up from their seats, some staying to help put away folding chairs and others loitering around before they head to dinner. Somehow, Joel ends up next to you as you’re walking out, probably on purpose, and you take the opportunity to tell him off.
“Way to be fucking obvious, asshole,” you mumble, hoping no one else can hear you. “Did you have to stare at me like that? You made it seem like I spat in your fucking coffee this morning.”
He scoffs loudly, and you elbow him in the side, throwing him a warning glance. He’s acting like he wants everyone to know what you’re trying so hard to hide and it’s really starting to piss you off.
“Wasn’t lookin’ at you any sorta way, darlin’. You’re the one makin’ a fuss and gettin’ everyone’s attention,” he smirks. It’s not even fair how good he looks when he does that.
You feel a strong urge to slap it off his face, but that’s not really an option right now. An annoyingly intrusive thought tells you to save it for later when you’re alone, but you push it to the back of your mind. He’d probably enjoy that, anyways.
You quirk an eyebrow as subtly as you can. “…Are you kidding me? I wasn’t the one glaring at you the entire meeting.”
He looks around pointedly. “Ya think you’re not makin' it worse right now?”
You pause to take in your surroundings, and he’s right. You’re making a scene unnecessarily when you could’ve just ignored him and gone home like you’d planned. This is exactly why everyone thinks the breakup was your fault. Why they all think you're the villain in his story.
Joel knows just how to bring out the worst in you and you hate it. It’s one of the reasons you broke up in the first place. He pretends like everything’s fine and nothing’s ever his fault, and you’re constantly tricked into proving him right. But today he’s being purposely antagonistic and you can’t tell why.
“Oh, fuck you, Joel,” you grit through your teeth. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
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He doesn’t.
Not even a few hours later, he’s at your back door—like always, so no one sees him come and go—eyeing you a little wildly. Hungrily. And suddenly, it all makes sense.
He's horny. Probably has been all day, judging by his behavior earlier. He doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to kiss you, to get his hands on you, but your arms shoot out to stop him.
“Uhh, what are you doing? Pretty sure I told you to leave me the fuck alone.”
He’s already panting as if he ran all the way here, but the tent in his pants tells you otherwise. His heart is racing under your palms, and while you haven’t forgotten how furious you still are, the fact that he’s this desperate for you makes you want to.
"Yeah, but ya didn't mean it. Ya never mean it,” he says like he knows you so well. You hate that he does, but the last thing you’re going to do is admit it.
“Why the fuck would I say it if I didn't?" you scoff.
"'Cus it's more fun that way," he leans in again, but you jerk your head back. Is he serious? It’s not like you normally have a nice little chat before you fuck, but he usually has more patience than this.
“Joel, stop. Are you trying to get us caught?” you eye him incredulously. It’s dark out and, yeah, you’re not having this conversation on the porch where anyone can see you, but other people’s windows still face your yard. He’s acting ridiculous.
"Maybe I wanna get caught,” he replies smugly, crowding you against the door. “Maybe I want everyone to know who ya belong to.”
His eyes are unreadable, and you’re caught between shock and intense curiosity. But then, that familiar feeling of fury returns, and you allow that to win out. You reach behind you for the doorknob, twisting it open to back inside.
“No. Nope, that’s not happening today,” you say with finality, yanking him by the collar into the house. You shove his back against the door, slamming it shut, and your grip tightens on his shirt. He’s smirking again, and it somehow looks even better on his face now than it did earlier.
“There’s my girl,” he breathes out, his hands finding your waist to pull you closer. It sends an unwitting wave of heat through you, a gasp escaping your lips before you can stop it. Fuck. He hasn’t called you that since before the breakup. Because it hasn’t been true since then, or at least that’s what you tell yourself.
“Only in here. Right, Joel?” He nods his head slowly, but his eyes betray him. He doesn’t believe that for one second.
“Sure, darlin’. Whatever you say.”
And, for now, that’s enough for you. You crash your lips into his hard enough to bruise and he groans into your mouth, rocking his hips into your belly so you can feel him straining in his jeans. It’s a little dizzying knowing just how much he wants you. How much he always wants you.
Flipping your positions to lead him backward, you reach down to unbutton his pants, your lips still moving languidly against his. Your fingertips purposely skim his bulge as you tug down his zipper, and he bucks into your hand, something soft and needy rumbling out of his chest.
More layers of clothing are stripped off and thrown haphazardly on the floor, leaving a trail from the kitchen to the living room, until the backs of his legs bump into the couch. All that's left now are his boxers, your underwear, and your bra. You make quick work of the latter yourself, dropping it to the floor, and then kick off your underwear, smirking at the look of sheer yearning on his face.
He reaches out to touch you, fingertips only managing to graze the side of your breast before you slap his hand away. He's not allowed to touch you until the playing field is even and he's as bare as you are. He already knows that.
His eyes are so dark, pupils dilated until that gentle brown has almost completely disappeared, and the way he's looking at you is reminiscent of a different time. You ignore it, focusing on all of the things you know he's about to do to your body instead. It'll help you forget whatever you just recognized in his gaze for a little while.
You tug on the waistband of his boxers, letting them snap back into his hips.
"Off," you tell him simply, giving him enough time to pull them down before you shove him onto the cushions. You climb into his lap, hands settling on his shoulders as you lower yourself down to drag your wet folds across his cock.
He hisses a breath through his teeth, his fingers digging into your hips to guide you, and you let him slick himself up against your pussy. He's so hard below you, looking painfully and almost angrily red at the tip. You sigh at the repeated friction on your clit and he twitches at the sound, dribbling precum that immediately mixes with your wetness.
"Need to be inside you. Now," he moans breathily, burying his face between your tits. He turns his head slightly to nip at the sensitive skin, and you tremble, trailing a hand up the side of his neck to bury in his soft curls. "You ready for me, darlin'?"
You nod quickly, chest heaving as you lift enough to reach down and wrap your fingers around him. Pumping him a few times, you drag the tip between your folds before lining him up with your entrance. He pants damply into your chest, more precum leaking out in anticipation.
And then you're dropping onto him, crying out loudly as you impale yourself on his cock. His hips shoot up off the couch, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, and he lets out a pained whoosh of air, adjusting to you as much as you are to him.
"Shit, that's—," he chokes out a moan as you start to move, "—tight. Fuckin' grippin' me, Christ."
You purposely squeeze him a little harder, exhaling sharply out your nose when his nails bite into your skin.
"Yeah, because you barely fucking fit," you tease breathily.
But it's more than that. You mold around him like you were made to take it, soft sighs leaving your lips as you ride him slowly. He fits perfectly, something that took precious time, his cock finding a home inside you over and over, reshaping your walls in his image. The lock to his key.
You bury that thought, too—with every swivel of your hips, every brush of your clit against his skin. He latches onto your breast, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you continue to work him.
His eyes flutter shut, hands beginning to guide you up and down a little faster as he swirls searing circles around the nub until it peaks. He tugs at it sharply with his teeth and you gasp, a spear of heat lancing through your spine as you gush around him.
It all feels so…fuck, he knows exactly how you like it. And both of you can hear how much you like it, feel how sticky you're making his lap. The slide around his cock is wet and easy, and your pussy's gripping him even tighter, but you need…god, you need—
"Joel, fuck me—come on, fuck me," you whimper, tugging him away from your tits by his hair, and he responds immediately. Taking over, he establishes a frantic, steady rhythm, lifting you until just the tip is inside, and forcing you back down.
But it's still not hard or fast enough to satisfy the way he needs you right now. He wraps his arms fully around your waist to hold you in place, pistoning his hips into you, forcing increasingly louder haahs out of your chest.
"That's it, darlin', take it…take it," he groans, head tilting back so he can observe every subtle change of expression as he gives you exactly you asked for. He leans up to capture your lips, but it's not so much a kiss as an exchange of breath, soft and humid as you pant heavily into each other mouths.
It quiets you for a brief moment—potentially the best possible moment, because out of nowhere, you hear faint voices passing by outside. They're way too close for comfort, and you realize belatedly that you made a huge mistake earlier.
"W-wait, the curtains—shit, the curtains…ngh…are still open," you barely manage to gasp out. "Fuck, the windows are open."
It doesn't deter him in the slightest and, instead, spurs him on. "S'alright, it's dark in here. They can't see us," he rasps, keeping up his merciless pace.
Ducking his head down, he sucks hard on a sensitive spot—your favorite spot—right above your collarbone, and you whimper much louder than you mean to.
"They can still fucking hear us," you all but growl, feeling your thighs start to quake despite your growing panic.
"Good, let 'em," he laughs almost cruelly, and he sounds so possessive that it stuns you momentarily. He takes the opportunity to abruptly tug you off his lap and toss you onto your back across the cushions, fucking back into you before you can even process the shift in position.
Now that he's on top of you, pressing down with his entire weight, his pelvis grinds into your already swollen clit with every single thrust, and you can't help the wail that escapes your parted lips.
He doesn't hesitate to pull you close, hugging your head to his neck as if he's trying to block out the rest of the world. Everything and everyone, but you and him.
"Always so loud for me. C'mon, darlin', lemme hear ya," he murmurs into your hair, hips snapping into yours. "I know you can be louder than that. Scream for me."
And you do. There's nothing else you could've done anyway, not with how he's dragging against everything just right. Your hips desperately swivel into his, chasing that hot, slick friction every time he connects with you.
The slap-slap-slap of your skin on his becomes a deep, wet thock-thock-thock the closer you get, your pussy dripping pathetically down his cock, fluttering with your impending release. He can feel it, you know he can, because he's moaning loud enough to rival even you now. He ruts greedily into you, hitting so much deeper than before.
"Christ…you're gonna make me cum," he warns, voice wrecked, his face still buried in your hair. "Jesus fuckin'…" You keen into his neck, still desperately chasing your own high, but it's not enough.
"J-Joel, I need—," you try to tell him, but he cuts you off.
"—'m fuckin' cummin'. Fuck," he grunts roughly, tumbling over the edge before you get the chance. His hips slow even as he continues to punch his cock as deep as it'll go, flooding your pussy.
No. Shit—no, no, no. He can't slow down, not now. You're almost there—so fucking close. He has to keep going. Just a little bit longer.
"No, Joel, no," you sob, legs kicking up around his waist as you grind up into him needily, increasing your speed. "Please, harder…please, please. Keep going for me—"
You feel rather than hear the groan rumble in his chest as he resumes his previous, unforgiving pace, ramming into you almost painfully.
"'m gonna. Don't'chu fuckin' worry."
At that, your orgasm quickly crashes over you, and you don't even realize you're slapping a hand into his side, still begging him not to stop as you wring him dry.
It's deafening what erupts from your chest when you finally cum. There's no doubt anyone outside can hear everything. Every squelch, every squeal, even the couch creaking, being pushed to its absolute limit.
Joel's name leaves your lips breathily, repeatedly like a prayer. You're shaking like a leaf underneath him, and he pulls back to brush your hair out of your face so he can kiss you, tender and open-mouthed.
This, too, feels gut-wrenchingly familiar but, for some reason, you don't want it to stop. Right now, you don't want to forget how it makes you feel.
He pulls out slowly, shoving two thick fingers inside you before your pussy can leak your combined releases all over the couch, and the sigh that escapes you sounds both content and despairing. He notices right away. Of course, he does.
Watching him leave you after nights like this hurts so much worse lately. Maybe it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the unavoidable emotional connection you feel when he's inside you.
Even though months have passed since you decided you'd be better off without each other, something inexplicable keeps bringing you back together. It's not just the sex and you know it, no matter how much you choose to pretend otherwise.
He knows it, too. He tells you all the time—in the softness of his kiss, his desire to please you, and his eyes, still only ever focused on you.
And, now, in the possessiveness of his words and actions. Of his touch.
He gazes down at you knowingly, as if he can see every one of your troubled thoughts in the cloudiness of your eyes. He's always been annoyingly good at that.
"Y'know, I don't have to leave just yet," he murmurs, brushing his nose gently against your cheek. "Only in here, right? You're still mine as long as we're right here."
You let him wrap you up in his arms, nodding into his warm, beautifully scar-riddled chest.
"I'm yours."
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thanks for reading! 💕
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luvrblythe · 2 years
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thank heavens for the rain || gilbert blythe x reader
how gilbert blythe would react to you wearing his clothes
this was meant to be another one of those headcannon thingies, but i got carried away and it turned into a one-shot.. oops
— let's say it’s been a rainy week
— like really really rainy
— it has been pouring every night for the past few days
— not that you were complaining, you love the rain
— this morning you woke up to the after smell of another rainy night
— your front yard looked like something out of a fairytale
— you couldn’t resist, so ofc you went to play outside
— originally you planned to stay nearby your house incase it started raining again
— but you got distracted and ended up wandering around
— you made your way to the woods, past the ruins of the story club (w.r.i.t.), then you found yourself in the all too familiar orchard of your one and only
— you should’ve gone home hours ago, seeing as the clouds were no longer letting the sun through
— but you were just so engrossed in the beauty of nature that you didn’t notice the painfully obvious warnings
— then you felt a cold wet drop of water on your arm while you were spinning in place
— uh oh
— you looked up, holding your hand out to feel the rain
— the sound of the raindrops got louder, faster, and stronger
— you giggled to yourself before BOLTING towards the house you’ve been in hundreds of times before
— meanwhile inside the house, gilbert was just about to start making himself some oatmeal when he heard frantic knocking
— he was confused as to why someone was knocking on his door with this weather
— despite being confused, he went to see who it was, and to his surprise, you were standing on his porch, soaking wet, but smiling nonetheless
— “oh my god, y/n!” he exclaimed, a smile sprouting on his face when you started giggling again
— you looked beautiful, raindrops trickling down your skin, wet hair framing your face, while your arms hugged yourself as you shivered lightly
— he just wanted to scoop you up in his arms and hide you from the rest of the world for all eternity
— “hi! i um— i got wet.” you sheepishly explained, smiling down at your boots
— “i can see that.” he chuckled as you looked at him with bright eyes expectantly
— he sighed, but not the annoyed kind, “come in— but take your boots off!”
— you made your way inside his house, sighing at the familiar scent of his home
— “let's get you some dry clothes, yeah?” 
— he led you up to his bedroom with a hand on your back, slightly cringing at the cold. how were you still smiling?
— he gave you a towel and a some of his own clothes, then went downstairs to give you time to change and to make you both some tea
— when you were all done, you looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed happily
— his clothes were way bigger on you, and his sleeves went past your wrist and showed only your fingertips
— you gave yourself a little spin, bringing his shirt to your nose and closing your eyes at the comforting scent of your beloved
— you went downstairs once you were done, and saw gilbert setting up the table
— “hi sweetheart, you want– some– tea..?” he trailed off as he turned around to look at you
— holy. fucking. shit.
— he never thought seeing you in his clothes would have such a big impact on him
— but now he never wants you to take them off
— thank heavens for the rain
— “hi, gil! this looks so good!” it was just oatmeal, but he made it, so..
— HE COULD NOT STOP STARING AT YOU OMFG
— “yeah! yeah, i-i made some– for- for um–”
— bless him
— you two ate your oatmeal as he listened to you ramble about your little adventure today
— he kept having to snap himself out of it bc ughhhh why did you have to look so beautiful???
— you in his clothes just seemed so.. right
— after you finished your food the both of you ended up in the parlor 
— you were tucked to his side, hand on his chest with his arm around you, rubbing up and down your upper arm as you snuggled further into his body
— he chuckled at your movements and pulled the blanket further up your bodies
— he kissed your head, letting his lips linger on your hair for a little longer than usual
— you two spent your afternoon in each other’s embrace, while gilbert read to you your favorite book
— in that moment he decided that this was the life he wanted. a life with you is what he wanted.
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ameliagiovanna0 · 1 year
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Feel Your Kiss On Me
Title from For You by Liam Payne and RIta Ora
Requested by @whiskeyloverbae ​ , thank you! 💕
“Tim has a hickey and he thinks it’s hidden by his collar but Angela calls him out on it. “
“Lucy!” Tim called from the bathroom.
“What?” Lucy returned, coming around the corner from her bedroom.
He couldn’t help but rake his eyes over her in the kimono and sleep shorts she wore, her hair wound messily on top of her head.
He grumbled, remembering he was trying to be pissed at her, and gestured to his neck and the purplish mark forming there.
“Oops,” she posited, but the mischievous grin that spread across her features betrayed her.
“Lucy, we have work today! What am I supposed to do with this?”
“I’ll go put a spoon in the freezer,” she tucked her lips between her teeth, trying to suppress her laughter.
Lucy rounded the corner once again, wrapping her arms around his waist as he dragged a razor through the shaving cream on his face.
She pressed her lips to his bare back, “You adding to the mess you’ve created?”
She smiled against his skin, “I wasn’t planning on it, but now that you mention it,” she chortled as she nipped at his shoulder.
“Luce!” he tried not to laugh, trying desperately to be mad at her, “We share a locker room!”
“Oh, like it’s the first time one of you’s had a mark.”
“It’s a hickey, Luce. I have a reputation.”
He tapped the razor in the sink before turning around in her arms to her raised eyebrow, “We both know that went out the window when you met me.”
“You’re impossible,” he said as his hand found the sides of her face. 
Tim wore a collared shirt into the station, forgoing his usual henley in hopes of hiding the mark his girlfriend left the night before, the frozen spoon not doing much to dull the offensive color. He put his white undershirt on and then uniform top on as fast as humanly possible, hoping none of the other officers noticed. He adjusted the collar in the mirror on the inside of his locker door and hoped it would stay in place all day.
“I should’ve starched these,” he complained to himself.
He left the locker room, seemingly unscathed. Angela asked him to see her when he came in for the day, so he made his way to her desk with two cups of coffee.
“Ange,” he set her cup in front of her.
“Hey, she greeted, “Thanks. The name Dennis Rand ring any bells?”
“Jesus,” he groaned as he balanced his arm on his duty belt.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes?’”
“I’ve arrested him maybe ten times over the years. Why?”
“He managed to get invol–”
Tim turned his head at the sound of glass shattering on the other side of the bullpen.
“Damnit, Smitty!” Angela barked before he even made it into her field of view.
“I’m sorry! It just slipped out of my hands!”
“Clean it up! That’s the third one this week!” she finally braved a glance at the mess of broken porcelain and coffee on the floor. 
Angela looked up, Tim’s head still pulled in the direction of Smitty dejectedly slinking toward the janitor’s closet.
“Timothy…”
His body stiffened as she stood up. It was never good when she used his full name.
He turned toward her, “Yes, Angela?”
She pinched the collar of his shirt, pulling it away from his body and laughing like a maniac. He rolled his eyes at her antics.
“Tim,” she managed to get out between snorts, “Is that a hickey?”
“I’m going to kill her,” he griped.
Angela simply laughed harder, nearly doubling over, having to brace herself with a hand on the edge of her desk.
“Are you done?” he asked when she managed to stand up straight again.
“Oh, no. Not even close.” 
“You two have fun last night?” She giggled again, “Oh, lemme guess. You bet on who could list the most penal codes in sixty seconds, and this was your punishment for losing?”
“No, wait! Lucy decided that she’d had enough of other women hitting on you, so she finally decided to do something about it?”
Tim blushed. This is not the conversation he’d envisioned for his Monday morning.
“No, no, I got it. Were you misbehaving?”
“I have work to do,” he turned to walk away.
“No, Tim, wait!” she tried not to laugh again. 
He turned around only long enough to flip her the bird.
“Your life would be so boring without me!”
He shook his head, a reluctantly amused smile on his face as he made his way to his office. He kind of hated her for it, but it was just Angela’s way of showing affection.
Sitting behind his own desk, Tim placed his coffee down when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
A: Dennis Rand, asshole. I needed info
T: Maybe you shouldn’t have made fun of me then 
A: whatever, I’ll just ask Lucy. Among other things 😁
T: I hate you both
A: You love us
Tim shot a text off to the woman in question.
T: in case you didn’t hear the cackling coming from the bullpen, Angela found the monstrosity you left on my neck 
T: Maybe I should return the favor tonight
L: don’t threaten me with a good time bradford 
He chuckled, setting his phone down. 
This was going to be a long day.
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twcbelts · 2 years
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*           𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝟔 : 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄  𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒       ;       a    series   of   canon   dialogue   from   the   wwe   franchise   film   ‘  the  marine   6   :   close  quarters   ‘    ,     feel  free  to   adjust   pronouns   accordingly  !!!  “ we should pregame “ “ that place is a rip off . i’m not spending eight bucks on a beer . “ “ hell , i took a bullet for you . “ “ you’ve gotta know me better than that . “ “ you did it again . “ “ i can see them coming a mile away . “ “ see that one ? “ “ you still hit like a girl . “ “ nothing wrong with that . “ “ you done ? “  “ i taught you that . “ “ we’re gonna be late . “ “ coffee’s on you . “ “ so you’ve got the house to yourself tomorrow night ? “ “ how do you know my name ? “ “ where the fuck did she go ? “ “ you should have got in the car . “ “ what do you want from me ? “ “ thanks for coming out with me today . “ “ it wasn’t like it was my day off or anything  . “ “ people actually live out here ? “ “ what’s in the bag ? “ “ smells great in here . “ “ where is everybody ? “ “ easy there , rambo . “ “ you got something to say to me ? “ “ you can stay here for as long as you like . “ “ why don’t you just put that thing down ? “ “ i brought you some food . “ “ who the hell are you ? “ “ is that supposed to mean something to me ? “ “ come on man , we’re just trying to help . “ “ you can’t help . no one can help . “ “ just leave me be . “ “ i won’t ask you again . “ “ that went well . “ “ i’ll catch up with you . “ “ no man left behind , right ? “ “ we’re not at war anymore . “ “ what’s upstairs ? “ “ is everything alright in there ? “ “ quiet . “ “ what do you think ? “ “ do that again , and i’ll kill you . “ “ can i help you ? “  “ are you okay ? “ “ i’m fine . “  “ that won’t be necessary . “ “ you won’t be needing this . “ “ how noble of you . “ “ how cute . “ “ trying to relive your glory days ? “ “ well , you jumped the gun on this one , didn’t you , chap ? “ “ don’t move . “ “ put that thing away . “ “ you’re gonna get us killed . “ “ that ship has sailed . “ “ have you ever shot that gun before ? “ “ stop talking . “ “ you left the safety on . “  “ shit , we’re trapped in here . “ “ they’re gonna kill us . “ “ you believe me , right ? “ “ we can’t take any chances . “ “ it’s a dead end . “ “ here . happy birthday . “ “ we got company . “  “ this just keeps getting better and better . “  “ wait . where are you going ? “ “ i’m gonna kick your ass , man . “ “ i owe you one . “  “ give me a hand . “  “ we can’t just go charging out there like leroy jenkins . we need a plan . “  “ we either keep moving , or we die . “  “ do you have a first aid kit ? “  “ for once in your life , just listen to me . “  “ i don’t like to drink alone . “  “ i did say that , didn’t i ? “  “ i’ll kill them myself . “ “ what are you looking at ? “  “ i told you it wouldn’t work . “  “ just , promise me you’ll go to the hospital . “  “ how could i forget ? “ “ don’t let me die in this thing . “ “ we’re not dying in here . “ “ maybe they didn’t hear us ? “ “ oops . “  “ run . “  “ get this off me . “  “ we’ve got a problem . “  “ what do you mean , you don’t know ? “ “ i’m gonna die in this shirt . “ “ get ready to move . “ “ hang in there , buddy . hanging in there , okay ? “  “ you’re gonna be alright . “ “ don’t lie to me , kid . “  “ i know a kill shot when i see it . “  “ i’ve seen worse . “  “ grab a gun . let’s finish this . “  “ i wanna go home . “  “ don’t worry about it , sweetheart . “  “ could you lower that thing ? “  “ do you have a phone ? “  “ i don’t know who you are  . “  “ yeah , i was lying about that actually . “  “ what else are you lying about ? “  “ it’ll be painless . “  “ i hate owing people favors . “ “ you didn’t have to kill him . “  “ you should know me better than that by now . “  “ did you happen to bring my knife , by chance ? “  “ oh , i expected more from you . “ “ this is a fight you can’t win . “  “ what are you gonna do with that , huh ? “  “ so , wait , let me get this straight . you killed all these men ? “  “ we’re even . “  “ your struggle here is over . “  “ you are the lucky one . “ 
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WTNV Quick rundown - 37 - The Auction
Hello and welcome back~ This episode was co-written by David Gold, so once again take whatever you will as canon or not. This also seems to be set pre-the debate live show so I guess I timed that rundown wrong. Oops.
Velvet darkness. Silken light. The rough burlap of evening. The frayed cotton of daybreak. Welcome to Night Vale.
Cecil has escaped punishment for the last episode, for now, under the assurance that Everything is Fine. He is however, auctioned off as 'Lot 37' as part of an auction to raise money for the SSP to buy themselves party items. The auction usually contains auctions of contraband and seized property which makes one wonder why Cecil has been included.
Cecil is unable to find out what himself being listed as a lot means, so attempts to go to the auction and win himself, but ends up not doing so and does not see who buys Lot 37.
Other lots include: Lot 1 - An All Clad dinnerware set, Lot 2 - a glowing coin with the image of a grim, horned god on the obverse and a half-collapsed panopticon on the reverse. It's been graded MS-45 by the SSP Coin Grading Service, Lot 3 - a silver candelabra that once floated across a series of dining-rooms-turned-abattoirs to better illuminate the flying daggers that accompanied it which is Lot 4, Lot 17 - a near-mint copy of Uncanny X-Men number 3 1964, Lot 28 - a gently used 5 cup coffee maker and a lot whose number isn't stated which is bought by Michelle Nyugen of Dark Owl Records and contains Elvis Presley's .45 calibre revolvers.
There are also carpets and mid-century modern furniture.
Weather: "Absentee" by Jack Campbell jackcampbell.bandcamp.com
There's apparently a 'Blob' who lives in the housing development behind the NV elementary school.
'On the lighter side of the news, today an invincible, all-powerful alien presence with telepathic powers came to Night Vale to enslave us all. It planned to bend every sentient being to its will, ending violence and conflict by subjugating all of us to its omniscient telekinetic powers. Hilariously, this all-powerful but bumbling alien presence didn’t know we were already subjugated to the omniscient force that's been controlling our thoughts for years. We're guaranteed to continue our violent and irrational ways, so in your face, inept newcomer presence.'
Cecil casually tells toddlers of NV to learn to be chimney sweeps for Marcus Vanston's many, many chimneys. He also tells us here that Marcus plans to run for mayor (which he does like a rich asshole, as usual). The other candidates are all upping their game, including leaflets from the FOW with the slogan “You are fragile and blind and wanting and stepping alone into the great darkness of the future.” It also has her five point policy platform, which is mostly interesting facts she has learned about bees. Hiram has taken to standing on street corners and having all his heads say what they want, even though all of them only agree on youth sports and the 'Time of the Lizard' soon approaching.
Cecil also encourages us to go into fairy rings. It's fine.
The Children's Fun Fact Science corner is filled with existential dread and fear of death.
Cecil also tells us that our attachment to objects is basically our attempt to deal with a world where friends, pets, family etc will all one day leave us so we go through life clutching objects for comfort because they can't leave. Wow.
And so, dear listeners, and whatever unknown person or entity that is now the owner of Lot 37: I bid you a farewell, the fondness of which is determined by your place relative to mine in my heart. Stay tuned next for our popular home medical program Yes That's Probably Cancer. Good night, Night Vale. Good night.
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devotionbled · 2 months
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RIP. My muse is all over the place. I can’t concentrate, actually. I can focus on planning for Brazil and solo writings, but nothing else is holding. The unforgiving nature of unmedicated adhd. BUT. I held a conversation with my main writing partner well enough all night (oops. I’ve been up since 12am and it’s now 7am. Thank god for no shifts today!).
I have so much appreciation for that dude. I remade my Yuna elsewhere for cooking with that mfer and did manage to do up a layout for her despite this funk.
On another note: my brain is adoring Mileena and has brain rot again. I can write a good Mileena. ✨🥰
Trying to stay positive to be productive today. My IMs, as always, are open.
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honeypiehotchner · 3 years
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Don’t You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part two of Bye Bye, Baby
I love how this mini-series was totally impromptu but happened so fast. Gotta love my brain!
Loosely based on “Don’t You” by Taylor Swift! xx.
Summary: Aaron wants to talk. Do you?
Warnings: ANGST
Word Count: 2k this time oop
Bye Bye, Baby (Part One) || That’s When (Part Three) || Hotch Masterlist
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Hey/I knew I’d run into you somewhere/It’s been a while
The text message from Aaron has sat glaring at you on your phone screen for the past hour.
Hotch (BAU) Sorry for hitting you with my cart earlier.
You don’t know what to make of it. It’s obviously an attempt to start up a conversation after four years, but why? Why, after all this time, does he think this is okay?
It’s 1 a.m. when you call Dannie.
“I would tell you to go to sleep, but I just got in bed, so I can’t talk.”
You chuckle quietly. “Better than me. I’m still on the couch.”
Dannie exhales. “Did Jules stay up late again?”
“No, no, she… She passed out around nine.”
Dannie sighs. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I saw Aaron today,” you blurt, quietly, not wanting to risk Juliet hearing even a whisper of this.
“Aaron?” Dannie asks. “Like...Juliet’s dad, Aaron? That one?”
“Yep,” you mutter, rubbing your forehead. “The one and only.”
“Where?”
“The grocery store,” you say. “Our carts bumped into each other. I wasn’t watching where I was going, so it was definitely my fault, but he texted me a while ago apologizing for it.”
“Woah, he texted you?”
“Unfortunately,” you murmur, hating that you feel tears pricking at your eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Have you texted him back?”
“I don’t know if I want to.”
“I understand,” Dannie sighs. “Maybe just say it’s okay? Leave it short.”
“Yeah,” you nod, sniffling, wiping a tear away. “God, I’ve been fine all evening and it just...hit me when I saw his text.”
“You had to keep it together for Jules,” Dannie reminds you. “What did she say about him?”
“Oh, nothing,” you say. “She really wanted cookies, so she was focused on getting vegetables for dinner so she could have them.”
Dannie laughs. “That sounds like her. Did she eat all her vegetables?”
“Even the broccoli,” you grin. “So she got an extra cookie.”
The two of you laugh lightly, letting the silence settle.
“What do I do if he wants to get to know her?” You break the silence with the one question that’s been on your mind all night. “I mean, he’s a profiler. There’s no way he doesn’t know she’s his.”
“Okay, first of all, she’s yours,” Dannie says firmly. “Second, it’s all up to you. And her. If she wants to get to know him, then ultimately it’s up to you to decide if that’s a good idea and where would be safest for it to happen, if you want it to.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t stress about it tonight,” she says quietly. “Text him back in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Want to surprise Jules with brunch tomorrow?”
You smile almost immediately. “Of course.”
+++
You wake from a restless sleep to Juliet climbing into bed with you.
“Good morning, munchkin,” you whisper, kissing her forehead. She’s still sleepy and will probably sleep for another hour in your arms, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
As expected, Juliet falls fast asleep with her head on your chest. While she’s snoring softly, you grab your phone and text Dannie about brunch. And that’s when you’re reminded of Aaron’s text.
Quickly, before you can think twice, you reply. It’s okay.
And you move on to text Dannie, letting her know you’re awake and so is Juliet. After making plans to meet for brunch in an hour and a half, you lightly shake Juliet awake.
“Psst, munchkin,” you murmur. “Wanna have brunch with Dannie?”
Juliet pops her head up almost instantly. “Really?”
“Really really,” you nod.
She grins wide and your chest aches for a moment. She’s always had his smile, but you never realized how much it’s his smile until today.
Juliet scrambles off your bed to get dressed, and you take a deep breath before getting up, too.
+++
The entire day passes without a reply from Aaron. You don’t know what to make of it, but you do your best to ignore it.
Thoughts of him keep you awake almost all night, so by the next morning, you’re dying to get your coffee before you walk into work.
You drop Juliet off at daycare, then park your car at work, with somehow enough time to spare to walk to your favorite coffee shop before clocking in.
You spot Aaron as soon as you walk in.
“You better not be following me around,” you mutter as you stand in line behind him.
He spins around, his face softening when he recognizes you. “Hi. I’m not trying to, I promise.”
You nod slowly.
Don’t you/Don’t you smile at me and ask me how I’ve been
“How are you?” He asks hesitantly, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Good,” you reply. “You?”
“Good,” he pauses. “Busy.”
“Me too.”
The awkward small talk is ended by the line moving forward, putting Aaron at the front. He orders his usual, and steps aside. You order your usual, with a pastry, too, as a sort of condolences gift to yourself for the bullshit you’re enduring.
When you step to the side to wait, Aaron tries again.
“Sorry again for hitting you in the store with my cart,” he says. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s okay,” you say, keeping your eyes away from his. “In your defense, I wasn’t paying attention either.”
He chuckles quietly and the sound sends a dagger right to your heart.
When his coffee is ready, he grabs it, and you internally beg him to leave without another word. But he doesn’t.
Sometimes I really wish I could hate you/I’ve tried, but that’s just something I can’t do
“This is probably too forward of me, but—”
Your coffee is up.
You step forward to grab it, and damn you, you look at him to ask him to continue.
“Can we talk?” Aaron finishes.
“Right now?” You question, following him to the door. He holds it open for you and you hate that you almost smile. “I have to get to work.”
“Me too,” he says, stopping on the sidewalk with you. “We could get dinner tonight.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay,” he nods. “No pressure. Just text me if you want to.”
“Okay,” you exhale shakily. “See you.”
You turn on your heel and nearly sprint down the sidewalk, chest heaving and tears welling in your eyes.
+++
“What do you want to do?” Dannie asks.
You met her for lunch to discuss your encounter with Aaron this morning, and so far you still don’t know what the hell you’re going to do.
“I want to tell him to leave me alone and never come near me again,” you blurt, but then you sigh. “I don’t mean that.”
Dannie smiles sadly. “I know.”
You don’t/You don’t know how much I feel I still love you
“I think I want to talk to him, but...I don’t know, I’m scared. I don’t think I can do a dinner. I’m sick to my stomach just thinking about this and I mean...I hate that I still love him. After all this I can’t even hate him.”
“It’s hard to hate someone you love.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Wanna help me text him?”
“Of course.”
After some trial and error, you and Dannie settle on this message.
Hey. I’d like to talk, but not dinner. What about a walk instead?
Aaron replies quickly.
Hotch (BAU) That’s perfect. Where is best?
+++
The park you chose is, regrettably, the one where you and Aaron had your first date.
In your defense, it’s closest and safest. And quiet.
Aaron doesn’t seem to mind the location, though, when he walks toward you. You’re sitting on a park bench, one that must be new because you don’t remember it.
As he gets closer, you see he has two cups of coffee in hand.
“I got your usual,” he says softly. “If you want.”
“Thank you,” you murmur, taking it from him, careful not to let your fingers touch.
Hesitantly, he sits next to you.
The two of you sit in silence for a while. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, and apparently, neither can he.
After too long, though, you break the silence. “Ready to walk?”
“Sure,” he replies, standing with you.
You venture down the trail, grateful that you changed into your sneakers before coming. It takes another few moments before the silence is broken -- by Aaron this time.
“Is she mine?”
You sigh heavily. You should’ve known he’d ask that first.
“Technically, Juliet is mine,” you reply. “But you are the father, if that’s what you’re asking.” You pause. “You’re the only one I was with, so there’s no doubt.”
“I wasn’t worried about that,” he says quietly. You can tell he’s looking at you, but you don’t look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried,” you admit. “I called three times. I got your voicemail.”
Once: When you decided officially to keep the baby. You were three months pregnant. You had almost thought he picked up when the line clicked, and then you heard his voicemail. You hung up and took a bath instead, phone forgotten in the living room.
Twice: Dannie was beside you. You were seven months then. You had caved and asked if it was a boy or girl. After hearing it was a girl, a part of you desperately wanted to tell Aaron. You remembered him saying he always wanted a baby girl. Your heart still ached from when he broke it, but you wanted to tell him. You got his voicemail.
The third time: You had just given birth. You named her Juliet. You wanted to tell Aaron. You wanted to know if he should be on the birth certificate. You wanted to tell him you had a baby girl. When he didn’t answer, the nurse gave you a sad smile, and left the line blank. Dannie held Juliet for a while so you could cry.
“You never left a message,” he replies, sounding offended.
“Did you really want me to break the news in a voicemail?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “But you could’ve said it was something important. I would’ve returned your call.”
“I called three times,” you remind him. “You’re a fucking profiler, Aaron. You think three calls meant it was unimportant?” You pause, grounding yourself. “I figured you were out on a case. I don’t blame you for that. I understand, I’ve been there. But after calling three times and not getting a single reply, I figured it was useless. I didn’t have the time or energy to worry about it anymore. I had a newborn to take care of.”
He’s silent for a while.
“How is she?”
“She’s fine. She’s with her Godmother. Probably watching Frozen.”
“That’s good.”
You can’t do this anymore. “If that’s all you wanted to ask, then I need to get going. No offense, but I really don’t have the time for small talk.”
“I understand, but…” He stops walking, staring down at his feet before locking eyes with you. “Would you— Would you be willing to give me a second chance?”
Don’t you/Don’t you say that you miss me if you don’t want me again
“Why are you doing this?” You ask, angry tears pricking your eyes. “Why?”
“I’d like to be a part of Juliet’s life. And yours. If you’ll let me.”
“I’ll ask her,” you reply. “But you can be a part of her life without being a part of mine.”
“You know that’s not true,” he says. “You chose this park for a reason today.”
“No, I chose it because it’s close,” you hiss. “Don’t you dare profile me. Don’t you dare.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, and for a second you think he might have tears in his eyes, too. “I’m sorry, you’re right, that was uncalled for.”
“Thank you,” you murmur. “I really do need to go.”
“Can I at least walk you to your car?”
After a moment of thought, you nod. “Sure.”
My heart knows what the truth is/I swore I wouldn’t do this
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shorkbrian · 3 years
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Stretch and relax pt 2
I have been thirsting.... about Victor.... again.... (pt 1 here)
(Oops forgot to add that Koshka means kitten lol)
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He’s noticed you’ve been a bit jumpy around him now. Not that you hadn’t been before, but, well...
Now you try to spend as little time as possible with the man.
And he can’t have that.
“Was I too eager last time? I promise I’ll be more gentle!” He coos from the other side of your door, a pillow under one arm, his other tugging his shirt down as far as he can.
His cock is leaking and heavy between his legs, he’d been thinking about how good you looked today, all that pretty, delicious skin on display, perfect body moving in just the right ways to make him ruin his pants like a teenager. Why use his hand and rely on his imagination when you were just a few doors away?
But you won’t let him in.
“Please?” He pouts, and when met with silence, his frown grows. “I won’t go away until you let me in. I’ll stand here all night and make lots of noise. I just want to relax a little with my favorite little koshka.”
The petname rolled off his tongue with ease, and Victor could almost see your little blush, even though there was a door separating the two of you. Not for long.
“Won’t you let me in? We can give each other massages! If that ends up with us doing something else, I won’t mind-”
The door swings open to reveal your embarrassed little body, frowning so deeply that Victor had a thought to tell you to worry about wrinkles. But at least his teasing and loud voice had worked, spurring you into giving him an opportunity into your room.
“Victo-”
“You’re such a sweetie!” He breezed right past you into your room, depositing his pillow on your bed. A half turn and he was facing you again, a smile on his lips despite your look of aphrenrsive fear. “Want to close the door now? Unless you’d like for people to see us both naked and oiled...”
Again, his desires were achieved with lighthearted teasing - you shut the door so quick that it almost slammed. You’re opening your mouth again, ready to (shyly) ask him to leave, to let you sleep in peace, but Victor has other plans.
And they’re quite fun.
It takes quite a bit of smooth-talking on his part, and more than a small amount of suggestive physicality (you were so tense! Victor was just doing you a favor by pulling you down onto your bed, that’s all) to get you where he wants you.
Underneath him on the bed, wide eyes looking up at him as he shimmies his body down until he can kiss at your tummy through your shirt. “I was joking about the massages, I just wanted you to open the door.” He shoots you a wink, and you quickly blanch.
“Unless you want to strip down and let me rub you all over? I’d make you feel divine little koshka.”
But you shake your head so quickly that your bones pop, and Victor can’t help but laugh.You’re so cute!
You also look uncomfortable, and quite stressed. It probably has something to do with the way Victor’s rubbing along your waist, looking up at you with big eyes as he settles more firmly between your legs.
“Uhm, uhm, Victor, I don’t know-”
“Shhh, I know. I think both of us need to relax a little, don’t you? Look at us! So tense and jumpy!” A quick press of his lips to your clothed tummy has you flinching, wincing away from the intimacy.
Victor is used to smiling his way past refusals, worming his way through with sweet words and such a charming look to get what he wants. You’re not used to letting him in, that much is obvious - but Victor breaks past your defenses anyways.
He knows how nervous you are about your body, so he’s okay with your shirt staying on, draped loosely over your torso. But he needs your pajamas out of the way, just a little so he can get to what he’s really been craving.
And of course you squirm, ask him to stop, to not do this, but Victor doesn’t have to listen. He can grip your waistband and yank it halfway down your thighs, enough so that he can settle back between them and they’re still spread so that he can reach where he needs.
He’s been wanting to taste you for ages.
And you’re so pretty down there, all plush and squishy and pink, like a ripe little fruit, dewy and shiny. Victor can’t help but lick his lips before dipping down to kiss your rosy clit, smiling when it twitches along with your legs, a little cry falling from your lips.
You sound so sweet, Victor can’t wait to hear more of your cute sounds.
So he doesn’t waste any time, flashing you a lovey-dovey smirk before descending to plant his mouth firmly against your mound, listening to your breath hitch and feeling your thighs tense as you whimper out a mantra of “no no no-”.
But yes, yes, oh yes.
You’re soft and delicious and when more wetness seeps out onto his tongue Victor wants to shout “Vkusno!” with glee, but he keeps his mouth on you, slender hands keeping your hips planted to the bed no matter how much you twist and turn away.
Eventually one of his hands moves to intertwine with yours - you keep trying to pull on his hair, tug his face away from the precious treasure between your legs, but Victor isn’t having that. He’d also like to not be bald, so he elects to hold your hand as he eats you out, like a lover. 
(And isn’t that what the two of you are?)
He licks you inside and out, up and down and drawing little patterns with his tongue against your puffy little cunt until you’re shaking in his hold, near-wailing from the stimulation. Victor doesn’t want it to end too soon, wants to fully relish this moment, so he pulls back just a teensy bit so he can lick at your plush thighs, give the flesh little love bites that you try to jerk away from.
“Look at you, so tasty and adorable. Doesn’t this feel good?” The man coaxes, before licking a trail back to your wet little hole.
With the way you’re keening, Victor grins to himself because the answer is obvious. 
He didn’t expect you to cum so soon.
But here you are, gushing into his mouth after just a little bit of suckling, a little bit of tongue, and Victor feels warmth bloom in his chest, in his cheeks, and he laughs against your cunt. The vibrations make you yelp, thighs struggling and failing to snap closed around his body.
If he was less of a selfish man, Victor would keep going, just like last time and make you cum until you really cried.
But he had different plans this time around.
“Can I use your mouth?” Like the gentleman he is, Victor asks, one of his hands wrapped loosely around his heavy cock as he waits for your answer. It comes in the form of tearful “No! Please!”.
“Then let me use your hands, or your chest, okay? Which one?” It’s always best to give a choice, because then you feel like you have options, some sort of control over the situation. You pick your hands.
He gives you a moment to breathe, a moment to collect yourself from your sudden (and probably painful from how quickly you came) orgasm before he moved to straddle your waist.
Victor has to physically pick up your hands and wrap them around his cock, making you form a tight hole with your fingers for him to hump forward against. 
“Fuck, yes, that feels-feels good!” He breathes, happy and pleased with the pleasure rising fast in his gut, how you’re working with him so nicely.
He takes care of his body, shaves all over so that he’s smooth and soft - hopefully you appreciate the effort, because your hands bump against his pubic bone and balls on every quick stroke.
“Fuck!” Victor cries again, because the pleasure takes over and makes him loose himself, hunching over you and working his hips faster, gripping your hands tighter around himself before-before-
You look so cute, all surprised with his cum seeping onto your skin and into your shirt.
Victor is panting heavily as he slows his hips, still working his cock through your hands as he winds down. You make him feel so nice.
He can’t wait to fuck you.
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nataliedanovelist · 3 years
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GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2
While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.
The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋
ch.1 - ch.3
~~~~~~~~~~
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Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.
She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.
She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.
Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.
But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.
Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.
The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”
“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”
“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.
“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”
“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”
“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”
“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n��� such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”
“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”
“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”
Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”
“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”
“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”
Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”
“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”
“Shoot.”
“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”
“What kind of unusual sounds?”
“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”
“Heavens! Is she alright?!”
“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”
“Well, good.”
“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”
“Sure.”
“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”
“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”
Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”
“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”
“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”
“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”
“Yup.”
“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.
“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”
“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”
“I agree.”
“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”
Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”
“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.
“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”
“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”
“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”
“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”
“Anytime, Stanford.”
~~~~~~~~~~
When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.
The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it. 
Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.
Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay. 
Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?
She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.
All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.
Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.
“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”
Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.
“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,
Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”
Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.
Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”
Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”
“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.
Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.
And he was right.
“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”
Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance. 
“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”
Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.
Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”
Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”
“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”
“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”
“Do you know any card tricks?!”
“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”
Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.
238 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 3 years
Note
hi bestie! xmas request for u <333 could you do one where the avengers clearly know that peter and the reader like eachother, so they (very undiscreetly) place mistletoes literally everywhere in the hq to get the lil babies of the groups to kiss? thank uuuuuuu love u!
Under The Mistletoe
pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Masterlist
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“Good morning everyone.” You greeted the Avengers as you walked in the kitchen one morning.
“Good morning.” Peters eyes followed you as you sat down next to him at the table. “I made you hot chocolate.”
“You did? You’re so sweet.” You took the mug from him and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”
“Well you mentioned last night that you were always freezing in the morning so I thought this would warm you up.” Peter smiled sweetly at you, face flushed from the kiss.
“You’re too good to me. I was gonna put some whip cream on it. Do you want some?” You offered as you went to the refrigerator.
“Sure. Thank you.” Peter nodded as you put some whip cream on his hot chocolate. The rest of the Avengers watched the interaction, exchanging knowing glances every once in a while.
“So, what did you guys do last night?” Natasha asked curiously as she leaned on her hand.
“We went on patrol together and then walked around the city. It was snowing so it was really pretty.” You smiled as you remembered the night before. Natasha and Bruce made eye contact, giving each other a knowing look.
“Didn’t you get cold?” Bruce asked for his own amusement.
“My suit has a built in heater.” Peter told him.
“But Y/n’s suit doesn’t.” Tony added, understanding what was going on.
“Peter had his arm around me so the heat kept us both warm.” You told them as you sipped your mug, making everyone gush.
“Uh huh.” Tony nodded as he watched Peter put his arm around your chair. “So you went for a moonlit stroll through the city. Pretty romantic, don’t you think? Was it a date?”
“What?” Peter sputtered. “No.”
“We’re just friends.” You nodded a few too many times.
“You got some whip cream on your face.” Peter noticed the white dollop on your nose.
“Oh. Oops.” You laughed in embarrassment and went to wipe it off.
“I got it.” Peter wiped your face with his thumb, leaving both of you in a blushing mess.
“Thanks.” You giggled, gazing lovingly into his eyes.
“Right. Just friends.” Rhodey grimaced as he watched the disgusting love fest in front of him.
“So what are you doing today?” Natasha asked, finding the whole situation hysterical.
“We were gonna watch some holiday movies in my room before patrol.” Peter told her.
“Speaking of that, do you want to get started?” You asked him. “We have a lot to get through.”
“Sure. Bye guys.” Peter waved before resting his hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the room. Once you left, the Avengers let out the collective laugh they had been holding in.
“So…they’re in love, right? We can agree on that?” Tony asked as he looked around the room, seeing everyone nod at him.
“I have never seen anyone so whipped.” Rhodey laughed as he sipped his coffee.
“How have they not admitted their feelings?” Nat asked the room. “It’s so obvious.”
“This is worse than me and Nat.” Steve commented.
“Or me and Nat.” Bruce added.
“Or me and Nat.” Tony agreed.
“When are those crazy kids gonna get together?” Steve chuckled as he opened the newspaper.
“This gives me an idea.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he got a familiar devilish glint in his eyes.
“Oh no.” Steve recognized the glint. “This can’t be good.”
“By the end of the holiday season, I want Y/n and Peter to be together.” Tony said decidedly. “This will require a group effort in making it happen. In the weeks leading up to the holidays, I expect each and every one of you to get our dear Peter and Y/n to realize they like each other.”
“How do you expect us to do that?” Nat humored him.
“You will all plant mistletoe somewhere in the building.” Tony grinned wickedly. “The mistletoe that gets the most kisses out of them wins.”
“Wins what?” Bruce asked, just as intrigued as the rest of the team.
“Whatever you want. I don’t know if the giant building with my name on it gave it away, but I have money.” Tony stated. “Lots of it. Or how about this, the winner can pick and design a new room to be added to the tower.”
“I could use a physical therapy room.” Rhodey spoke up. “I don’t know if you guys remember, but my legs don’t work on their own anymore ever since I fell out of the sky.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Steve realized.
“Yeah. Nobody really talks about that.” Bruce agreed.
“I think we could all benefit from a new training room.” Nat threw in. “The old one has a permanent sweaty man smell.”
“We already have a training room. What we really need is some personal up keeping. Keeping myself this blonde is not cheap. A hair parlor in the building would be nice.” Steve suggested.
“Parlor.” Tony chuckled under his breath.
“I second that.” Bucky piped up.
“Of course you do, Jared Leto.” Tony teased.
“We don’t need a hair salon. What we need is another lab.” Bruce declared.
“Or a ballet studio.” Nat gasped.
“I think we should install an Olive Garden.” Bucky shrugged.
“How about a room full of murals of myself?” Thor smiled. “You can all gaze upon them and push yourself to stop being tiny and small.”
“Or another gym.” Rhodey shrugged.
“Or a wine cellar. But for beer! A beer cellar.” Thor cheered.
“We can discuss the room later.” Tony quieted everyone down. “If you really want these things, get the kids together. You know what you have to do.”
Tony
You and Peter often ate breakfast together in the same spot everyday, and Tony used that information to his advantage. He skillfully hung some mistletoe above your usual seats and patiently waited for your arrival. Soon enough, Tony heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.
“Hey Petey.” You rubbed Peter’s back before taking a seat next to him. “Hi Mr. Stark.”
“Hey guys.” Tony smiled before looking up and gasping. “Oh golly gee, would ya look at that? Mistletoe! Who put that there?”
“Oh, wow.” Peter said as he looked up to see mistletoe hanging above the two of you. “I didn’t even notice.”
“Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have looked up if you hadn’t pointed it out.” You said skeptically as you eyed Tony.
“Ha.” Tony forced a laugh. “Well, now you see it. Bye!”
He quickly left the room and hid behind a wall where he could watch his plan unfold.
“That wasn’t at all weird.” You chuckled as you turned in your seat.
“He probably put Red Bull in his protein shake again.” Peter laughed as well, fingers brushing yours a little on the table.
“Yeah.” You nodded, suddenly feeling awkward now that you were both aware of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. You both looked away from each other, red in the face and sneaking occasional glances at the plant.
“I, um, I’ve never actually seen mistletoe in person before.” Peter said to break the silence. “I’ve only heard about it in songs.”
“Me too.” You nodded rapidly. “Or in movies and stuff.”
“Yeah.” Peter gulped. “And stuff.”
You looked at each other for a moment, shy smiles on your faces.
“I mean, since it’s both of our first times getting caught under it, it’d be a shame not to honor the tradition.” You suggested sheepishly as you averted your eyes.
“Right.” Peter said quickly. “It’s tradition. We basically have to.”
“Yeah. It’s practically a right of passage for the holiday season.” You said simply as you leaned closer to Peter.
“Exactly.” Peter agreed, leaning in as well. Your faces were almost touching now, just a few more inches until contact.
“Um.” You let out a nervous laugh before shutting your eyes and leaning in. Peter met you the rest of the way, your lips connecting directly under the mistletoe. You smiled a little into the kiss before pressing your hand to his cheek to keep him in place. Peter pulled away after a minute, gazing fondly in your eyes as he opened them. He’d been waiting to kiss you for the longest time, and it was just as perfect as he imagined.
“Thanks.” Peter said, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment after he said it.
“You’re welcome.” You laughed at him, squeezing his shoulder in admiration.
“I’m glad we could, erm, fulfill the tradition.” Peter laughed at his own awkwardness as he shook his head.
“Me too.” You nodded with a flushed face. “I feel more in the holiday spirit already.”
“Same, same.” Peter trailed off, looking around the room to distract from the awkwardness.
“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and eat our breakfast?” You requested, looking at him shyly.
“Please.” Peter agreed. “It never happened.”
Rhodey
Bruce was making his way to the lab when he saw Rhodey hiding behind a wall, staring at hanging mistletoe.
“Why are you standing here?” Bruce whispered as he stood behind Rhodey.
“I told Y/n to meet me in the kitchen and I’m sending her a bunch of texts so she keeps her eyes on her phone. I also told Peter to meet me in the theater. They’ll have to go through that doorway where I strategically placed mistletoe. Once they bump into each other, they’ll have to kiss and I’ll get a point.” Rhodey explained his masterplan in a hushed tone.
“Why do you want them to bump into each other? Can’t they just see each other in the doorway?” Bruce whispered back.
“Man, have you ever seen a romantic comedy?” Rhodey sighed. “The girl has to bump into the boy so he knows she’s clumsy and not like other girls.”
“I think you’re getting a little too invested in this. It’s just a room.” Bruce reminded him, beginning to think he was behind on the contest.
“Its not about the room.” Rhodey insisted. “I just want to beat Rogers and his stupid parlor.”
“Shh.” Bruce hushed him. “Here they come.”
Bruce and Rhodey watched as you and Peter smacked into each other in the doorway.
“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking.” Peter said as he caught you from falling.
“That’s okay. I wasn’t looking either.” You smiled at him, staying in his arms.
“How are you gonna get them to notice the mistletoe?” Bruce whispered.
Rhodey silently took out a large fan and switched it on, sending a breeze towards you and Peter. The breeze made the bells on the mistletoe chime, causing you and Peter to look up.
“Is that mistletoe?” He asked as he pointed to it.
“It looks like it.” You commented. “I guess Mr. Stark decorated the tower.”
“Kinda crazy we got caught under it twice.” Peter chuckled nervously, hoping he’d get the chance to kiss you again.
“I know. But hey, it’s tradition.” You shrugged, also hoping you’d get to kiss him.
“Yeah. Tradition.” Peter was barely listening to himself speak as he stared at your lips. You laughed a little as your arms went around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. It was just as good as the first time, if not better. You pulled away after a moment and sighed against his mouth.
“I, um, I gotta meet Rhodey in the nitchken.” You stumbled over your words.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to see him in the popcorn palace.” Peter spoke, not even knowing what he was saying.
“I’ll see you later, Petey.” You squeezed his arm gently and made your way to the kitchen.
“Bye.” Peter mumbled before going to the theater. Rhodey turned to Bruce with a boastful grin and held a finger to symbolize the point he has just gotten. Bruce swallowed nervously, realizing he had to get on it if he wanted to win.
Bruce
“Banner.” Tony came to Bruce’s side with a suspicious look. “You look awfully devious today.”
“You’re much more likely to walk next to someone than to be caught under a doorway with them. That’s why I put a bouquet of roses and mistletoe on the table between their rooms. Every time they pass it, they’ll have to kiss.” Bruce explained as he turned to Tony with bloodshot eyes. He had been working on the plan all night and it showed.
“You unsuspecting genius.” Tony gasped.
“How is that unsuspected?” Bruce deadpanned. “I’m a certified genius. That’s why I was recruited.
“Yeah? And I’m a certified freak. 7 days a week.” Tony said as he stared at the bouquet of mistletoe. It didn’t take long for you and Peter to come out of your rooms and meet in front of the bouquet.
“Hey, Petey.” You greeted him. “What are you up to?”
“I was gonna grab a snack and then watch Dance Moms compilations.” Peter told you.
“Without me?” You pretended to be offended.
“I was gonna ask you to join.” Peter rolled his eyes sarcastically.
“I’d love to.” You smiled at him. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, is this mistletoe?” Peter realized the bouquet right as you were about to leave.
“Damn, it’s everywhere, huh?” You laughed as you touched the roses, warmed by the color.
“Do we still have to kiss of its not over our heads?” Peter wondered.
“Yes!” Bruce whispered sharply.
“You heard that too right?” Your eyes widened as you looked around for where the voice came from.
“Yeah. I thought it was my conscience.” Peter sighed in relief. Your eyes flickered from the bouquet to Peter, back to the bouquet.
“I mean, we might as well kiss.” You shrugged. “Mistletoe is still mistletoe.”
“You’re right. It would be a waste not to.” Peter nodded eagerly.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss lasted longer than usual as you both let it linger.
“The plan was smart but you only got one kiss out of it.” Tony whispered to Bruce as you and Peter went to the kitchen.
“Just wait.” Bruce told him. Some enough, you and Peter returned with an armful of snacks.
“Oh, we passed it again.” Peter said robotically, knowing you’d pass it again.
“Oops.” You said sarcastically. “I guess we have to kiss again.”
“Ugh. Every time.” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled you towards his lips. You gripped his shirt collar and continued kissing him as you pulled him into your room.
“See?” Bruce smirked. “Certified genius.”
Down the hall, Natasha had seen the whole thing, chewing her lips as she came up with a plan.
Natasha
Natasha set her plan in motion a few days later, waiting in the kitchen for you as she stirred a bowl of muffin mix. Peter sat at the counter, reading over one of Bruce’s articles in a book. You came into the kitchen wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that matched Peters, the sight of you making Peter smile.
“Hi Nat.” You beamed at her as you took a seat next to Peter at the kitchen counter. “Whatcha making?”
“I’m making muffins with the berries from mistletoe.” Nat said cheerfully. “They should be really good.”
“You bake?” You asked curiously. “You mean they taught you culinary skills when training you to be an assassin?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. For example, I love ballet. We might even be getting a ballet studio in the tower soon.” She said coyly, making you and Peter exchange a suspicious glance.
“Wow. That’ll be really cool.” Peter played along, skeptically of her intentions.
“Right? Does this look okay to you guys?” Nat asked as she held the mistletoe above your head. “I can’t tell it it’s good to use or not.”
“It looks fine to me.” Peter shrugged as he looked up at it.
“Oh, silly me.” Nat clicked her tongue. “You guys are totally under it. I guess you’ll have to kiss.”
You and Peter exchanged another look before pecking each other on the lips.
“Hmm. I still can’t tell. Can you check again?” Nat asked as she held it up again.
“It still looks fine.” You told her, growing suspicious.
“And you still have to kiss.” She sighed like it was an inconvenience. You narrowed your eyes at her before kissing Peter on the cheek.
“Are you guys sure it’s okay? One more time, please.” Nat held it over your heads a final time. Peter looked at you skeptically before leaning in for a kiss. Both of you were well aware of the sneaky smile on Natashas face.
“Wait, let me see if I can find another one.” Natasha took another bunch of mistletoe out of her grocery bag and pretended to inspect it. She made a whole show of it, making it look like she simply couldn’t find out if it was okay to use. She sighed sadly and looked to you guys for help before holding it up. You and Peter laughed in disbelief before kissing on the lips.
“Wow. Did I accidentally make you guys kiss 4 times?” Nat spoke loudly, as id she was letting all the people in the tower know. “That’s a lot. Looks like we’ll be getting that ballet studio after all.”
“Yeah. That is a lot.” Thor appeared in the doorway upon hearing Natashas declaration. He eyed you and Peter with a ponderous look on his face, becoming aware that he was losing the competition.
“Oops. I just remembered that mistletoe is poisonous.” Nat finished her bit. “Guess I won’t be making these! Bye guys!”
She swiftly left the room, leaving the mistletoe on the counter. You and Peter looked at each other, equally confused about what was happening. Thor walked further into the kitchen and pretended to take interest in the mistletoe. He held it up over his head before holding it over you and Peter.
“Are you two sure this mistletoe is good for use?” He asked, stealing Nat’s idea.
“We’re not kissing for you.” Peter told him flatly.
“I never liked you anyway.” Thor stated as he dropped the mistletoe and left the kitchen. He wandered the tower until he found Pepper reading in the living room.
“Pans. I have some bad news.” Thor sighed as he laid on the couch like he was in a therapists office. “The competition your husband started is rigged.”
“Why do you say that?” Pepper wondered.
“Because I’m losing!” Thor whined. “Gods do not lose to humans. Unless it’s a contest for tiny people.”
“How many kisses have you gotten?” Pepper asked, well aware of the contest.
“0 so far.” He sighed. “Everyone else has four or five. Banner has seven!”
“So you just have to come up with a plan that blows everyone else out of the water.” Pepper shrugged.
“Like what?”
“Everyone else has gotten them to kiss, right?” Pepper asked.
“Yes.” Thor nodded.
“You can get them to date.” Pepper said like it was simple.
“Why, that’s brilliant! Thank you, Pans!” Thor cheered as he got off the couch. “You have done me well.”
“You’re welcome.” Pepper chuckled as she flipped the page.
“Wait, your husband is also in this competition.” Thor realized. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because when Tony wins something, he gets way too cocky and thinks he’s above doing any laundry or cleaning.” Pepper explained. “Someone else has to win or he’ll buy Mexico or something.”
“Thank you, lady Pans.” Thor grinned. “I will not disappoint.”
Thor
“May I come in? I’m just kidding. I am coming in regardless of your answer.” Thor chuckled as he barged into your room. You and Peter had been sitting on the bed, jumping from fear as he came in.
“Hi, Thor.” You said skeptically as Thor pulled up a chair. “Can we help you with something?”
“For the past few weeks, the Avengers have been holding a stupid contest that I am losing to see who can get you two to kiss the most.” Thor explained. “They have been using mistletoe to carry out this stupid contest.”
“Wait, what?” You and Peter looked at each other in shock. Suddenly, the strange behavior and random mistletoe sightings all made sense.
“That’s why there’s mistletoe everywhere?” You asked. “And why did you guys do this in the first place? Why us?”
“Because you two like each other.” Thor shrugged. “And everyone knows it. Except for you two. You don’t know it.”
“What?” Peter sputtered. “We do not-“
“Shh.” Thor hushed him. “Don’t talk to me. Talk to each other. You’re welcome.”
Thor smiled kindly before getting out of his chair and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
“I can’t believe they did this.” Peter groaned. “Forcing us to kiss because they think we like each other? Who comes up with that?”
“I know right?” You agreed. “How we feel about each other is none of their business.”
“Exactly. And what do they know? If I liked you, I think I would know.” Peter forced a laugh, well aware that he liked you.
“Yeah. We would know.” You nodded before looking at him skeptically. “We would know, right?”
“I don’t know.” Peter answered honestly. “It’s kinda hard to tell how I feel about you. I never know if something that happens between us is platonic or romantic.”
“Me either.” You spoke softly as you put your hand on his. “Kissing isn’t really platonic, though.”
“I guess not.” Peter chuckled as he looked at you. You stared at him for a moment, heart beating in your ears as you thought out your next step.
“Peter, do you like me?” You asked slowly, looking at him through your eyelashes.
“Um, kinda, yeah.”
“Kinda?” You laughed softly at his answer.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed and squeezed your hand. “I don’t know what to say in this situation.”
“Just tell me how you feel.” You shrugged.
“I feel like I’ve been lingering around places where the mistletoe in hopes that you’ll walk by and kiss me.” Peter confessed, looking at you with a shy smile.
“Well that’s not platonic.” You teased him, leaning into him a little.
“No, it’s not.” Peter agreed. Your eyes flicked to his lips briefly before leaning in to kiss him, pulling his face closer to yours with the hand that wasn’t holding his. He kissed you back once he got over the surprise, sitting up straighter to get closer to you.
“You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, Petey.” You whispered once you pulled away. “You can do it whenever you want.”
“I’m gonna take you up on that.” Peter smiled softly at you.
“I hope you do.” You flirted before connecting your lips to his again. On the other side of the door, Thor had his ear pressed up against the crack, listening to every word with a huge grin.
“I am so going to win this contest.”
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fruityyeon · 2 years
Text
love you, regardless
pairing: best friend!atsumu x gn!reader ft osamu!
genre: hurt/comfort
tws!: none,, enjoy!
summary: finally reconnecting with your long time best friend, atsumu, he decides to tell you exciting news that he kept from you all these years.
notes: horrible choice of words. i never think much when i write these oops
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!
please do leave a comment about your thoughts on this post <3
———————————————————————————————
“i’m engaged! and i want you to be there during our wedding day!” the blonde, now black haired man said with a smile bright enough to light up the whole restaurant.
engaged? since when? no, since when did you have a girlfriend.
“gosh tsumu...that’s great!” you said in surprised tone, giving a short glance at his brother, osamu, asking him when did this all happened telepathically. “it really is, she’s the love of my life.” atsumu sighed followed by a chuckle.
osamu was just there, sitting next to his brother, feeling guilty because he knew what your original plans were for today.
the day you got your first call from atsumu since high school graduation, you knew what you had to do, that is to confess your little high school crush to atsumu. you knew he felt that same. come on, the late night talks together, the little things he did for you like a boyfriend would do. you felt your face flushed, continuously punching your pillow out of excitement. you knew this was your so called main character moment. you immediately called osamu, asking tons of personal questions about atsumu and he was alright with answering them since he knew about you cute little crush on this twin brother. until a certain question caught him off guard.
“say samu...what’s your ring size? since you and tsumu are twins...i assume the both of you have the same ring size..” you told him, twirling your hair like a stupid kid experiencing their first love again.
“y/n...look-“
“it’s okay if you don’t know!! ill just get those free sized ones!!”
“no that’s not it..it’s atsumu he actua-”
“yeah yeah i know, he prefer silver jewellery! i knew that. anyway thanks samu, you really help me a bit! see you on saturday!!”
osamu felt guilt crippling all over him. he couldn’t say the truth. he was too scared. he didn’t want to ruin your mood or ruin both you and tsumu’s friendship. yet here the three of you are. ones clueless, ones heartbroken and the other is just filled with guilt.
tsumu notices your face expression and raised an eyebrow. “you alright y/n? don’t tell me you’ve got a cold? it’s been chilly these days so i assume yo-”
“no tsumu. i’m fine i just remembered i had unfinished projects to do today.” you stood up, feeling embarrassed. not giving atsumu a single glance. “i’d love to stay but i really need to submit them by tomorrow” you chuckled whilst fixing your coat.
“ah..i see. no worries! ill hand over the invitation card though mail then!”
shut up. please just shut up. i hate you
is what you wish to say.
“sure thing tsumu.”
osamu was just there. he was speechless. he felt useless and so much regret. it was technically his fault for not mentioning about atsumu’s relationship earlier. after you left he quickly followed behind, passing atsumu his last few changes to pay for dinner.
“i should’ve have told you.” he guiltily said.
“don’t worry about it hm? we can’t have anything we want in this world anyway.” you said happily, ignoring the sharp stabbing ache in your heart. your hand reaches over the man’s flushed face and caressed his cheek, noticing a teardrop falling down.
“it’s all my fault. i could’ve prevented this from happening. all of this just because of my selfishness and-”
“..and that’s okay, i’ve never seen tsumu so happy...his happiness matters more to me and i should thank you. thank you for talking care of him well while i was away.”
the both of you sobbed and sobbed. other pedestrians giving the both of you awkward looks, though that didn’t matter. this was a reminder to you that nothing will go your way and that you could look forward to more exciting things in life. this memory will haunt you till the end of time, reminding you how you’ll love atsumu regardless.
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Note
Hello there may I request the Dimitrescu daughters celebrating their s/o birthday, it’s my birthday today☺️
Happy belated birthday, anon!!! Wishing you many more happy (and hopefully less chaotic) years to come! Under read more for length.
Bela + Birthday
On one hand, she wants to be the first thing you see when you wake up. On the other hand, she’s got a million things planned, and no matter how much help she enlists, she’s bound to end up running late. So maybe she’s not the first thing you see, but she’s crawling into your bed before you have a chance to fully wake up. Wrapping her arms around you, murmuring ‘good morning’ and ‘I love you’ into your ears. Sleepy kisses all around<3
Will stay with you for as long as you want, but will ‘subtly’ encourage you to get up eventually, after all she’s spent the past month planning this day. It’s possible that she’ll end up slowly sliding out of bed, an inch a minute, saying ‘no more kisses until you get up’.
Once you’re out of bed, it’s time for a decadent breakfast. A whole buffet table filled with your favorites (the ones appropriate for this time of day, at least), with any servants you’re friends with being allowed to join in. If you’re not from Romania, Bela will go out of her way to have the cooks learn recipes from whatever country you grew up in. Might throw in a few non-breakfast items too. Mmmm, thinking about my family’s krumkake recipe now, so good<3
What happens next depends a lot on your specific personality. If you enjoy parties and social gatherings, there will be festivities in one of the castle’s larger rooms, again with any of your friends being allowed to join (even visitors from the village, should you wish to invite them). A large cake will be served, likely baked by none other than Ava Caldwell (please excuse my shameless OC mention).
If you’re more introverted, or shy, Bela will keep the gathering very small, likely just her family and you. There will be music, a few gifts from the family, similar but smaller treats. Less energetic, more casual and comfy family time.
Come lunch time, the two of you will have some private time again. Depending on weather/season, she’ll either take you for a picnic in the garden, or a quiet meal in the observatory. Think candles, lots of strategically placed flowers, warm blankets… all that cheesy stuff. Afterwards, she’ll let you take the reins for a bit. Essentially, you’ll spend some quality time doing your favorite hobbies together. Feel free to info dump/rant all you want, Bela will stare at you with love in her eyes regardless of the subject.
Once you’ve had your fun together, it’ll be time for dinner, which will once more be with her family. Everyone will be on their best behavior (under threat of blackmail, except for Alcina, who’s just, you know, a good mother who wants her daughter to be happy). Again the cooks will go all out for the meal, making whatever dishes weren’t appropriate for breakfast. There will probably be leftovers- unless, of course, you decide to let the other servants enjoy what you cannot finish.
Finally, before bed, Bela will let you open the gifts from her. The two of you will be in either her room or her private study, away from everyone else. She’ll have prepared 3 gifts for you. One will relate to your personal interests (a hobby, a movie/book series you love, etc), one will be something the two of you can do together, and the last will be something you can wear/keep on you to remind you of her (not that you could ever forget, really).
I’ll leave the detail of what happens that night to your imagination, dear reader, so as to not assume anything about *ahem* attractions, gender, or any possible… deviances (kinks, if that wasn’t clear). Regardless, there is cuddling<3
Cassandra + Birthday
Wakes you up, first thing in the morning, with kisses. Just crawls into bed with you and smothers you in somewhat sleepy affection. Do you know how hard it was for her to get up at this hour? Relatively! Which is why you’re not allowed to get up get up, at least not for a while. Mandatory girlfriend snuggles. No escape. If the two of you are, ya know, of the persuasion to do certain things… without clothing… then yeah, that’s probably also happening. Please don’t judge me, I’m tired (and asexual) and am trying to avoid this being unnecessarily ns/fw.
Doesn’t really want to share you at all, even on your birthday, but will let you mingle with friends/have a nice group breakfast if that’s what you want. Just expect to be sitting in her lap for as long as she can get you to, alright? Might tone it down if her family is around (okay, well, if her mother is around). Will pretend to judge people for whatever gifts they get you unless you specifically ask her to stop. Repeatedly whispers things in your ears to distract you, ranging from the audaciously inappropriate to “my gift is going to be so much better than that” to very sweet “I love you”s.
Lets you plan as much or as little as you want for your special day, though won’t hesitate to suggest things if you struggle to come up with stuff/can’t decide. Again, she’d prefer to spend as much of the day with you as possible, and would prefer your gatherings be very small. Like, maybe just the two of you. Going on a hike to your favorite spot, or painting together (even if you don’t know what you’re doing, because she’ll get nice and close to help ;) ), or just curling up with her somewhere cozy.
Whatever you end up doing for the day, she’ll probably have a servant pack you guys some lunches, so you don’t have to interrupt whatever you’re doing.
Dinner will be… a surprise. Planning is not her area of expertise, so Cassandra will enlist the help of her older sister, resulting in a romantic meal that, well, at least has hints of your girlfriend’s personality in it. Yes, she picked out the color of the napkins. Yes, the flowers she had asked for turned out to be poisonous, so yes they did have to swap them out last minute. Oops, you darn humans and your ‘mortal weaknesses’. Honestly, the display is very touching. She asked for help to do something nice for you<3
At the end of the night, she’ll take you to her art studio, where there’s a big painting that’s been covered up for a few days or so. She’ll pull the sheet off, oddly shy, and you’ll see it’s a lovely portrait of the two of you… except you’ll be wearing a necklace that you’ve never seen before. Which Cassandra will quickly pull out of her pocket, to give you as the second part of your gift :D
Cue a night of cuddling (and possibly other activities… such as sleeping).
Daniela + Birthday
Might as well bodyslam you first thing in the morning, honestly. She’s very excited, and loves you very much, and just wants to have some nice morning cuddling (and kissing). Solution? Make sure that she spends the previous night in the same bed as you. Seriously, it’ll save you a fair amount of pain.
Has the least planned of the three, despite having the most ideas, mostly because she struggles to actually organize things. Expect to spend however long you want in bed, just relaxing, probably still with lots of kisses and cheesy dialogue about how much she loves you. When you get up, however, the two of you will be surprised to see that Daniela’s family decided to help her get shit together.
There will be a nice breakfast, with your friends present, and Bela might even delay her own meal just to play some music for you. Afterwards, the family will give you their gifts. They won’t make you open them yet if you decide to save it for later, though, so no worries.
Then, you and Daniela will be encouraged to go out and have some fun. Which means a nice almost-picnic in the gardens, with less of a meal, more of some sweets/snackies. Cue more cuddling, and dorky poetry reading. The poetry will always start out serious… but by the end you’ll both be trying to find the lamest, cheesiest poems you can get, reading them to each other in increasingly ridiculous voices. Somehow you’ll end up reciting dirty limericks. Eventually you realize that Daniela isn’t even going through her books to find them, and is actually making them up as she goes. You’re not sure you want to know how she gained this skill.
Eventually you’ll head back inside, for lunch. At this point, there will be more music, some optional dancing, with a surprising amount of servants being allowed to just enjoy themselves. If parties aren’t your thing, Daniela will be more than willing to sneak you off somewhere more… private. For various reasons, you know. Doesn’t have to be anything more than cuddling. But this is Daniela we’re talking about, so…
The evening will mostly be up to you, with Daniela wanting to do whatever you want to do, even if it’s not something she’d normally enjoy. She just wants you to be happy<3
Dinner will be romantic, like with Cassandra, if admittedly far more chaotic. Still, it’s very lovely, and she’ll probably get adorably flustered as she tries to make things perfect for you. Expect her to get you multiple smaller gifts, and repeatedly mention that she wasn’t sure what to get you, so she kinda just… got everything. It might be best to reassure her that you mostly care about spending time with her. But, you know, also tell her you enjoy the gifts because she really did panic about them.
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bi-bi-buckleydiaz · 3 years
Text
deep breath, do your job | owen joyner
requested; yes! - Could you do a Owen x reader where the reader is Owens personal assistant while filming JATP and while they are filming the reader starts catching feelings for Owen but Owen is in a relationship. Owen and his girlfriend breakup and the reader comes over to comfort Owen and Owen confesses that the reason him and his girlfriend broke up was because of the reader.
word count; 6.4K ... yeah kinda got away from me there. longest fic i’ve ever written
warnings; language, implied sexual content but no actual sex or description thereof
a/n; lol, so i just wrote from 1AM - 4AM because i’m procrastinating my child dev. project thats due today that’s worth a quarter of my grade. i really didn’t mean for this to be so long so it’s probably not this good and the ending is a lil’ rough, but oh well. hope whoever requested this likes it. i kinda do even though it’s long and only slightly proofread.
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“Owen Patrick Joyner! Get your ass into hair and makeup before - oh, um, okay oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Should have knocked. I’ll just - yep, i’ll just go.” 
You thought he’d be sleeping. It’s nap time for him anyway, so he should’ve been sleeping. Instead, your technically boss and definite crush, was on his trailer couch with a girl you’ve never seen before. Kissing her. Without a shirt. Yeah, you definitely need to get out of there. 
You’re quick to close his door and begin to walk back to the hair and makeup trailer to tell them Owen will be a minute. 
“Y/N! Hey! Wait up! It’s um, it’s not, well it is, but -” He grabs your arm, causing you to turn around and face him, which, big mistake. Abort. Abort. Turn around. His post make out face is something you did not want to see. Liar.  
“It’s fine Owen. What you do in your free time is not my, well, actually it is since i’m your PA, I just mean who - WHAT, what you do in your personal time, in your trailer, is not my concern. Just, you’re needed in hair and makeup like, an hour ago. So, yeah, just, get there.” You stumble over half your words and watch his face fall as you near the end of your spiel. When he lets go of your arm you’re quick to turn around and leave him alone, walking right past hair and makeup and to set where you can curl up in your chair and eat your weight in brownies, if Madi hasn’t taken them all that is. You hope he goes to get his hair done. You know you should walk with him there because if you’re not practically dragging him to where he needs to go he never gets there on time, as just witnessed. But it’s usually because he’s goofing off with Charlie, not sucking face with a random girl. 
You don’t notice the brownie in your hand has crumbled until a whistle comes from behind you. You turn around a little too quickly, sending the brownie bits flying to the floor. 
“Shit.” You kneel down to begin picking it up, another hand coming into help. Charlie, based on the rings adorning the fingers. 
“Is Owen’s keeper okay?” You huff a laugh at the name the cast gave you a week into filming. You’re the only one who has managed to keep Owen in line since filming started, the only reason he’s ever on time for anything or actually has real food in the apartment or has his drumsticks when needed, etc. etc. 
The boys didn’t want PA’s when Kenny proposed it during bootcamp, they were young adults, they didn't want to boss someone around, it felt wrong. But having more experience than the boys, Kenny vetoed how they felt and told them PA’s would help tremendously, especially on a project like this. That’s where you came in. You were trying to get into the directing and producing scene in Hollywood, you’re dream to be as good a director as Steven Spielberg or, well, Kenny Ortega. But you knew you had to start small, so you applied for a PA job on an upcoming Netflix show, getting hired within the week. Now here you are, a nineteen year old being in charge of another nineteen year old who acts more like he’s five. 
In the beginning, it was purely professional. You were nothing more than his PA who got him from place A to place B in a timely fashion. But then he started to rope you into pranks with the rest of the band. He started inviting you to movie nights, and adventures to the grocery store, and ice skating with Charlie and Madi, and somewhere between helping him keep his life in order and watching him fall on his ass at the ice rink, you fell for the blonde. You know it’s a mistake, falling for him. You work for him. He’s your friend. That’s all he sees you as, but you couldn’t help it. But you’re good at compartmentalizing, so you took all the inappropriate feelings, shoved them in a box, locked the box, and hid it deep in your unconscious. You were doing well with ignoring the box, until you walked in on Owen kissing someone that wasn’t you. 
“I’m fine Charlie, just, stressed. Owen was an hour late to hair and makeup so I kinda feel like a shit PA right now.” Charlie chuckles and hugs you as you both stand up. 
“Please Y/N, you’re the best PA. If it weren’t for you, Owen would never know where anything is, including his head.” You laugh into his shoulder, reveling in the hug for a few more seconds. When you part, you see a flash of blonde enter the set and sigh in relief. He made it. He’s ready. You’re not fired today. 
Just incredibly confused and upset. 
But not fired.
“You better go, I know you’re in this scene with Owen.” Charlie nods and squeezes your shoulder once before running after Owen onto the set that holds Julie’s shed. Taking a deep breath, you try to push whatever the hell you saw ten minutes ago into your box, and get ready for the day ahead. 
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Four hours, six brownies, and two cookies later, Owen is officially wrapped for the day, meaning you can go home and continue to eat your feelings in ice cream. You’re quick to grab your binder full of Owen’s schedules to drop tomorrow’s off at his trailer before he sees you. You’re not really in the mood to talk to him about what happened earlier, so you fast walk to his trailer, fully intent on just leaving the paper on his counter where he’ll see it, but a brown haired, green eyed girl throws that plan right out the window. 
You’re so stupid. You should’ve known she would still be here. Waiting. 
“Oh, um, hi.” She says. She sounds nice. She looks nice. But when you look at her all you can see is her hands in Owen’s hair and his lips on hers. 
“Hi.” You don’t know how, but you managed to put on a smile and put a little pep into your voice. “I’m Ashley. I’m waiting for Owen. Is he done?” You nod, not trusting your voice as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, one foot on the step the other in the trailer, hand outstretched ready to place the schedule on the table. 
“He just wrapped for the day. Should be here in a few.” The girl - Ashley - nods. 
“You’re Y/N, right? His personal assistant?” How does she know that. She giggles, “He talks about you all the time. Says the only reason he’s not fired or dead in a ditch is because of you.” OH, you said that aloud. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoo-
“Y/N! What are ya doing just standing in the doorway?” Fuck. You put a smile on and turn around. He’s smiling softly at you, still in Alex’s clothes, twirling those damn drumsticks around his fingers. 
“Um, just dropping tomorrow’s schedule off. Here. Okay...bye.” You walk down the steps, letting the door shut behind you, fully intent on leaving, but Owen grabs your arm again, just like earlier, causing you to stop and turn to look at him. 
“Wait. Can we talk real quick. About...earlier?” No. No absolutely not. 
“Um, I really have to go. I have a lot to do tonight for tomorrow.” Owen sighs and lets go of your arm, face contorting into that of a sad puppy. 
“Just, one minute Y/N. Please. Let me explain.” Screw him and his perfect freaking face. 
“A minute.” His face lights up and grabs your hand, leading you back into his trailer, smiling even wider at seeing Ashley sitting pretty on the couch. 
“Y/N, this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” Ashley smiles and waves, standing up to stand by Owen and grab his hand. A rock settles in your chest at the word. 
Girlfriend. 
Girlfriend. 
Girlfriend. 
“Nice. I’m Y/N. But you knew that. Just like you also know I’m in charge of getting him to places on time. Which didn't happen today.” Owen’s face flushes at that while Ashley terribly hides a smirk behind her hand. 
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that Y/N. She surprised me today. We weren’t supposed to see each other until Thanksgiving but she finished classes early and flew out to surprise me. Kinda got, caught up in -” His face is beat red so you’re quick to cut him off. 
“It’s fine. Just, try not to get ‘caught up’ tomorrow, yeah?” It’s harsh and full of hostility, but you want to leave, the word still bouncing around in your head, swirling around the scene you walked into earlier. 
Girlfriend. 
Kissing. 
Girlfriend. 
Flushed face. 
Girlfriend. 
Kissing. 
“I have to go. See you tomorrow on set at 5 Am. Got it? Five A M. Don’t make me break into your apartment again. I almost got arrested for that.” Owen is still reeling from your harsh words said a second ago to laugh at the memory. Ashley however, has no qualms about speaking up. 
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s here on time.” She smiles and wraps around his arm like a koala. You hold back a scoff, throwing up a fake smile before turning and leaving. 
Girlfriend. 
Girlfriend. 
Girlfriend. 
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It’s almost midnight.
It’s 11:48 PM and someone is knocking on your door. 
Who the fuck is pounding on your door at near midnight. 
You shuffle to the door wrapped up in your comforter, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. You don’t bother looking through the peephole, too angry at the person behind the door to bother, just wanting to yell at them and get back to bed. 
“What the - Charlie?” He looks exhausted, hair ruffled and eyes puffy. He’s in joggers, a random band tee and his denim jacket. You’re pretty sure his shoes are on the wrong feet. 
“Can I stay the night?” He doesn’t wait for your response before walking into your apartment, flinging his shoes and jacket off and walking to your room. You sigh, ignoring the way he just threw his stuff around and instead follow him to your room before he takes your side of the bed. You walk in just as he chucks his shirt off and woah. You were so not expecting that. An explanation as to why he’s here at midnight? Yeah. Him taking your side of the bed? Definitely. But not Charlie taking his shirt off and crawling onto the right side of the bed and curling around a pillow. You take a moment to collect yourself and your thoughts before crawling into bed next to him, making sure to drape the comforter over him as well. He hums in content and turns around to face you. 
“Sorry for barging in like this. Just, ugh, Owen and that girl are not quiet if you catch my drift.” And it’s like the rock in your heart is now a boulder and it’s crushing your ribcage. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You’re frozen, staring at Charlie’s half asleep face. “Like I get it, you’ve missed each other. But c’mon bro I’m there too.” He keeps talking. Keeps pushing the boulder until all the ribs crack and puncture your lungs. “There’s somethings in this world I never wanted to hear, and Owen moaning was one of them.” He won’t shut up. Charlie shut up. You’re entire chest is fracturing, breaking at his words and he needs to shut. up.
“I didn’t really know where else to go, but I remembered how comfy your bed was last movie night so, here I am.” His voice is raspy, words slurring as he’s trying to fight sleep to explain to you why he’s here. But you can’t focus on him right now. Can’t think about a shirtless Charlie in your bed. There’s only one thing you can think about right now. 
Girlfriend. 
Shirtless. 
Girlfriend. 
Kissing. 
Girlfriend. 
“Thanks for letting me crash by the way. I’ll try not to kick you in my sleep.” He chuckles, then finally opens his eyes when you don’t laugh back. You don’t know how you look right now. You know you’re frozen. But is the panic and pure sadness showing on your face? It must be, because suddenly Charlie is wide awake and leaning up on his elbow to look at you fully. “Y/N are you okay?” He’s worried. You want to tell him you’re okay. It’s fine. Everything is fine. But you can’t move. You can’t talk. Because reality is crushing you. It’s ripping up your heart, suffocating you, consuming your mind. 
Owen isn’t yours. 
Owen will never be yours. 
You’re just a friend. 
You’re just his PA. 
That’s when the tears finally start. They come slowly, one trailing down your cheek, then another. Then all at once your sobbing into Charlie’s chest, no doubt getting snot all over him. But he doesn’t seem to care. He just starts to hum some random song while he repeatedly runs his hand over your hair, the other holding you close to him. He keeps humming, his chest vibrating and giving you something to focus on that isn’t your depressing thoughts. It’s almost soothing, the petting and the hug and the humming. 
You don’t know how long you sob into him, but when you stop, his humming stops too. He still holds you close, just lets go of your head so you can lean back a little and look up at him. He’s brows furrow in concern and he pouts at your post-crying face. 
“Are you okay? Am I really that bad of company?” He tries for funny but you can’t bring yourself to laugh with him. Just pout and push his semi-wet chest. “Seriously Y/N, i’ve never seen you like this. What’s wrong?” Those two words. 
What’s wrong?
What’s wrong? I fell for my boss and now he’s doing it with some girl and I can’t stop thinking about them and it’s killing me because before I could live with being his friend and PA because at least there was some sliver of a chance but now there’s nothing because he has someone and I have no one and I can’t breathe because oh my god I love him. I love that stupid fool and i’m nothing but his personal assistant. 
It’s quiet for a minute, too quiet, and that’s when you realize you said all that out loud. You look up at Charlie, which was a mistake because his face is full of pity. It’s all sad puppy eyes and “Shit Y/N i’m so sorry.” A fresh wave of tears make their way out of your eyes, but Charlie is quick to wipe them away. 
“Y/N I didn’t know I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said all of that, God I was so stupid.” And then it’s like a whole new flood gate opens, this one full of laughter though. You start with a chuckle, but soon it’s full out belly laughing. Because Charlie isn’t the stupid one here. “I’m the stupid one. I mean, how idiotic does a PA have to be to fall for the one they’re in charge of? Never mix work with pleasure. It’s PA-ing 101, don’t fall for your boss. I’m so fucking stupid to ever fall for him or think he’d like me back because i’m just his stupid PA who has no talent what so ever, never has a good hair day, can’t go a day without eating their weight in sugar, and will never see him again after filming is wrapped.” Your laughing dies down by the end, and then ends completely when you see the look on Charlie’s face. It’s not exactly pity, but it’s not exactly sadness either. It’s hard to describe what exactly it is, but it’s not good. 
“Y/N. Babes. I don’t ever want to hear you talk about yourself like that again, okay? I swear to God next time I hear anything like that come out of your mouth again, I’m hitting you with a pillow.” You giggle, but he stays serious. “Dead ass Y/N. Listen, was it probably not the smartest to fall for Owen? Yeah. But you didn’t know he had someone. I didn’t even know he had a girl and I’m his roommate. But, we can’t help who we like. It’s all brain chemistry and heart palpitations and whatever else. It’s something we can’t control. So don’t say you’re stupid because of something you can’t control.” 
“You’re being really smart and caring for twelve am.” You both chuckle, a real smile gracing your face for once in the past twelve hours. 
“I’m sorry for the breakdown it’s just, there’s a lot in my head right now and what you said really didn’t help.” Charlie sighs and pulls you in close. 
“I’m sorry babes. You should’ve slapped me or something.” 
“I probably would’ve had the breakdown at some point tonight anyway.” Charlie pulls back a bit to look at you, confusion on his face. “I kinda walked in on them making out earlier when Owen was late to hair and makeup.” 
“Is that why you crushed that brownie earlier?” You sigh and nod. 
“Y/N, i’m sorry. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” 
“It’s fine Charlie. It’s, well, it’s not but, I’ll get over it. I’m a big girl. Besides, I have you to get my tears and snot all over right?” He groans while you giggle, but he isn’t really mad if the way he pulls you close and rests his face in your hair is any indication. 
“Always babes.” 
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The next day you drive to set with Charlie who didn’t have to be on set at five like Owen, but joined you nonetheless. Taking his duty as your new ‘heartguard’ as he called it last night, you walk to hair and makeup with his arm around your shoulders. It’s comforting, even though he’s putting most of his weight on you because he’s exhausted, the coffee you gave him this morning clearly doing nothing to wake up. 
“Charlie, you could’ve stayed in bed until you were actually needed.” You laugh as he trips up the steps to the trailer, nearly face planting if it weren’t for you wrapping your arms around his waist last minute. 
“Char you good?” You hear BooBoo ask. Charlie grumbles something incoherent and shoves his face into your neck as you lean against the arm of the couch. BooBoo laughs, so do you, but quickly sober up when Owen walks in, Ashley on his arm. Charlie must have ESP or something because, without looking up at who walked in, he wraps his arms around your waist and murmurs in your ear, “Deep breaths. I’m here.” You do as he says, shooting Owen a friendly smile, but dropping it as he frowns at you. 
What is that about? 
“Glad to see you on time Owen. I wouldn’t have been able to break in this morning anyway because an octopus decided to break into my own apartment last night.” You ruffle Charlie’s hair as you say that and he grumbles some more, playfully biting your neck as well. “Ow. Asshole.” Owen frowns even deeper at that, while BooBoo chuckles. He get’s scolded a second later for moving. 
“So that’s where you disappeared to last night. I was wondering why you weren’t home this morning.” Owen’s voice is tight while he says it, Ashley noticing as well if the tightened grip on his arm is anything to go by. Charlie squeezes your waist as a way to say, ‘prepare yourself’ before he moves his head to lean against your shoulder so he can talk. 
“Yeah well, I wouldn’t have had to if you and your girl weren’t so freaking loud.” You tense up, mind starting to reel again, but a squeeze to your waist and a warm breath on your neck manages to bring you back. The trailer goes quiet, even the hair and makeup ladies tensing up and sensing the tension. Charlie, ever the wrong place, wrong time type of guy, grabs your hand and places it on his hair, then moves it back and forth. 
“Pet me.” Despite the tension in the room, you can’t help but giggle at the stupid Canadian boy wrapped around you. Apparently that’s all the rest of the people in the trailer needed to go back to what they were doing. That or they just didn’t want to get involved in young adult drama. You shoot a look at Owen, his jaw tense and hands clenched into fists. Completely ignoring the way Ashley leans up to kiss Owen’s neck, you open your phone and begin to read off his schedule for the day, your left hand still running through Charlie’s hair. 
“Hair and makeup at five AM, sit your butt down and let Shelly do her thing, costume fitting right after. First scene at six-thirty with BooBoo, you guys are doing the scene at the Orpheum where you talk about what’s been going on, you’re going to be sad so this whole frowny face you got going on? Keep it. A break after that then rehearsal with Charlie, Jer, and Mads for Stand Tall. Fitting for the Stand Tall suit is after that, but no actual filming for that scene yet, just getting the measures right so after that, you’re done for the day.” You take a deep breath after all that, BooBoo whistling at you from his seat. 
“You could be an auctioneer with how fast you talk.” You smile and bow your head at him.
“I’ll take that as a compliment Boo.” He shoots you a smile and then raises his hand to high five Owen as he sits next to him. Owen ignores him. In fact, he stays silent throughout all of getting his hair and makeup done. Only smiling occasionally when Ashley shows him a meme on her phone. You watch them, the boulder in your chest rolling around as you do so. But not for jealousy, no, for concern. Owen is acting very unlike himself. You may be upset right now, especially with him, but it doesn’t mean you still don’t see him as a friend; still don’t worry about him. Something is wrong, and you can’t help but feel like it’s your fault. 
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“So did it work?” You jump in surprise at the voice behind you, the cookie in your hand crumbling and falling onto the table. 
“Charlie! What did I say about sneaking up on me?” You turn to look at the boy who is smiling too wide at you for you to think this is about to be a completely innocent conversation. 
“Did it work?” He’s practically vibrating where he stands.
“Did what work?” 
“The cuddling this morning? Didn’t you see Owen? He was totally jealous.” And - what? That’s why he was so touchy this morning? 
“I just thought you were tired, that was - you were trying to make Owen jealous? Charlie what the hell? He has a girlfriend!” Charlie rolls his eyes and loops his arm around yours, dragging you away from the cookies and towards the costume room. 
“Yeah, but we both know she shouldn’t be. And the way he was acting this morning? I think he’s starting to realize that too.” There’s no way...right? No, the way Charlie described last night...no. 
“No, okay, he was probably just tired and angry about having to be here so early.” Yeah, that’s it. He was not jealous of the friendly cuddling you and Charlie were doing. Totally...not. Holy shit. You hear Charlie giggling in your ear as you enter costume. 
There, in front of you, is a very shirtless, very toned, very pretty Owen Joyner.
“You’re welcome.” Then Charlie is off to God knows where. Leaving you alone with Owen. Well, not really alone since Soyon is here too, running around looking for different fabrics and textures to throw on Owen. A still very shirtless Owen. 
“Oh, hi Y/N. What are you doing here?” Owen asks, looking at you though the floor length mirror in front of him. He’s not smiling at you, but he’s not frowning either, so improvement from this morning. 
“Oh, um, just making sure you got here on time. And look at that. You did! Good job.” You clap, who knows why, but it makes Owen laugh, which, whew, okay. 
“Yeah, I reminded him.” A voice behind you says. You turn and look at Ashley walking in, coffee cup in hand. She bounces up to Owen, ignoring Soyon and placing a big, wet kiss onto his lips before moving to the couch off to the side. Owen seems shocked by the PDA, which makes sense, you know he’s not big on that, remembering one late night conversation you both had a few weeks ago. 
“Anyway, Y/N, how does this one looks. I think the ruffles are nice. And then when he’s performing Stand Tall we can,” and then she begins to unbutton the shirt all the way down to mid chest and okay, seriously Soyon, now you just want to torture me. 
“I like this.” Owen says, twirling in the mirror like a ballerina. This causes the shirt to fling open more, showing his chest more in the process.
Deep breaths. 
Be a friend. 
You’re a big girl. 
“Yeah. It’s good,” you say, walking over to him to tuck to the sides back together somewhat. “Are you going to keep with the pink theme for the jacket?” Soyon smiles and nods, walking away for a minute leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley. 
“Should it really be unbuttoned that much? I mean, it is a kids show? I don’t want to share my boy with fangirls.” Ashley says. You can’t stop your eyes from rolling or the scoff that leaves your mouth. You watch Owen’s Adam's apple bob as he gulps. 
“Please, Charlie is sleeveless for a majority of the show. Owen showing a little chest isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Besides, Soyon chose good. The way the shirt fits and settles it’s never going to open all the way. Unless, ya know, he twirls like some Carolynn Rowland wannabe.” You smile up at Owen and inhale sharply when you see he’s already looking down at you. “And with the jacket on it’ll stay put pretty well.” You’re still holding the shirt in your hands, looking at Owen’s face as you talk. For a second, it’s just you and him, looking at each other, smiling. Then Soyon comes back and clears her throat. The trance breaks and you back up. You wipe your sweaty hands on your jeans before backing up and standing next to the mirror. You feel eyes on you and look over to see Ashely glaring at you. 
“Here we go. One pink jacket to match.” Owen slides it on and smiles wide. You have to say, it looks good. Professionally speaking of course. 
“Soyon, have I ever said how freaking amazing you are. I mean, this is really good looking. Very Alex.” Owen praises. He’s smiling and it’s a nice sight after this mornings debacle. 
“Alex is going to be the best looking one on that stage.” Owen looks over at you, his smile still there, and the boulder shrinks three sizes. 
“Still think the shirt should be buttoned.” Ashley mutters. But everyone ignores her, even Owen, who does another twirl in front of the mirror. 
“Well then, you’re all set Owen. Go ahead and change and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Soyon leaves, going off to do costume designer things, leaving you alone with Owen and Ashley again. Owen takes the jacket off, then looks around not knowing what to do with it. You sigh and smile softly, taking it from him.
“Here, just give me all the clothes and i’ll take them back to your rack.” He smiles thankfully at you, before frowning again and looking down at his outfit. Getting what he’s thinking, you chuckle and cross your arms. “Bub I just saw you shirtless it’s not a big deal. Now c’mon, give me the clothes before Soyon thinks you’re stealing them.” Owen looks up at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at you before. It makes you take a sharp breath in.
“Maybe you should go. I can give the clothes to Soyon. Don’t you have assistant duties to do?” Ashley is right next to you as she says it. It makes your ears hurt and hands clench. You’re quick to unclench though, not wanting to wrinkle the nice pink jacket. Ashley moves forward to unbutton Owen’s shirt all the way, but he grabs her hand before she can begin. 
“Actually I need Y/N to stay. I have to talk to her about some, ya know, assistant stuff. And besides, she knows where Alex’s rack is and that’s where the clothes have to go. Why don’t you go wait for me in the trailer, I’ll be there in a few.” 
I need Y/N to stay. 
That shouldn’t make you feel as warm and tingly as it does. 
Ashley scoffs and looks away, clearly trying to guilt trip him. Owen sighs and kisses her cheek.  
“Trailer. Ten minutes.” Ashley sighs before nodding and finally leaving. He watches her go, then turns back to you when she finally disappears. You clear your throat and he looks back at you, face a bit red. 
“Um, hey.” You chuckle. 
“Hi.” He nods, and you sigh, walking so you’re right in front of him. “Seriously, O, you need to get this off because if they’re not on the rack for Soyon to fix up by the end of the day it’s my head on a stick, not yours.” Then you’re unbuttoning his shirt. 
You’re unbuttoning. His shirt. You don’t realize you’re doing it until you hand grazes his navel when you untuck it from his pants. You hear him suck in a breath and you immediately take two steps back. 
“Sorry, um. Sorry that was not, um, -” 
“It’s okay. You were just, doing your job. Making sure I get stuff done on time, right?” But his voice is wobbly as he says it and his face is as red as a tomato. You couldn’t have made him that flushed, not you? 
“Right. Yeah. Um, so, pants?” Owen looks at you with wide eyes. “I need to take the pants back too.” It’s quiet, but you know he heard you because he nods his head and begins to unbutton them. You suddenly feel very hot, very suffocated. You should’ve left when you had the chance, just let Ashley do this. You shouldn’t be here, watching as he pulls the velvet pants down his legs. Watching as he steps out of them and - oh God he’s falling. You grab his hand to help him but it’s too late, you both tumble to the ground. You’re on top of him, smushed up against his bare chest, faces centimeters apart, sharing breaths. 
“Sorry.” You mumble. You watch him gulp and look down. Down at wha - oh. 
“It’s, it’s okay. I’m the one that fell and pulled you down.” You nod, causing your nose to brush against his. You’re close, so freaking close that if you were to move not even a full centimeter, your lips would touch.
So. 
Close. 
“What. The. Hell!” SHit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 
You’re quick to scramble away from Owen, butt scooting across the floor to get as far away from him as possible. Owen jumps up, kicking the pants away then realizing that was probably not a smart idea because now he’s half naked in between Ashley and you.  
“Ash I -” 
“You were taking forever, wanted to know why. Thought you said there was nothing between you two?” She’s practically screeching. You know within minutes there will be a crowd. A crowd Owen will not want, his anxiety will not want. Ignoring his stuttering and the conversation in general, you push away the heat in your belly and the tingling in your spine and take a deep breath. 
Deep breath. 
Be a friend. Do your job.
You grab Owen’s clothes and put them in his hands, ignoring his speaking and Ashley ranting, you grab his hand and then hers, and shove them towards the back exit. 
“This is a trailer conversation, not a wardrobe fitting conversation. Leave, now.” 
“No, I have a lot to say -” 
“Listen to me, I’m trying to do my job and not get Owen in trouble. If you really care about him, you’ll take this conversation to his trailer. Now.” Then you shove them out the door before Ashley could screech some more. 
Deep breath. 
Do your job. 
You go back to the fitting area, only to see Charlie, Jer, and Madi standing there, looking confused. 
Deep breath.
Do your job.
“Hey guys. Owen just left. He and Ashley are having a date night.” Charlie gives you a look, but Jer and Madi nod, going to accept it, but Charlie has to open his big dumb Canadian mouth. 
“Why’d we hear screaming then?” Charlie questions. Jer and Madi look at each other, then back at you. 
“Oh, uh, mouse. I saw a mouse. Yep. Mouse. Anyway, I have to get this clothes hung up before they wrinkle, so excuse me.” 
Deep breath. 
Do your job.
You walk around the trio, gathering the suit and shaking everything out as you walk over to the Alex rack to hang them up. You hear the door to the room open and two sets of feet walking out. 
“Charlie, everything is fine okay? Just a little misunderstanding.” 
“Like?” You sigh and turn around from finishing hanging up the clothes. 
“Like...Owen kinda fell and when I went to help him I feel too...on top of him.” There’s silence then, 
“OH MY GOD! Y/N THAT’S LIKE FANFIC SHIT THAT WAS THE MOMENT! DID YOU KISS OH MY GOD TELL ME EVERYTHING!” He’s jumping up and down as he makes his way to you. 
“Ashley walked in.” All excitement stops.
“Oh shit.” You nod, walking past him to settle on the couch, pulling a pillow to your chest. 
“Yeah. And she started screeching and I knew Owen wouldn’t like to attention so I shoved them out the back door to his trailer.” Charlie’s arm goes around you, pulling you close. He goes to say something, but your phone ringing indicating a text from Owen stops him. You pull it out, opening it as Charlie watches over your shoulder. 
My trailer plz. 
Charlie starts shaking your shoulders, smiling like a maniac. “This is your chance Y/N go go GO!” you shake your head at Charlie’s antics, but leave nonetheless. 
Anxiety creeps up on you as you get closer and closer to his trailers, not knowing what you’re going to walk into. Him firing you? Saying you can’t be friends anymore? Ashley ready to claw your face off? 
Deep breath.
Be a friend.
You knock on his door. It opens a second later to a frantic looking Owen. Now you're anxious about him. Why does he look upset? Is he okay? He grabs your hand and pulls you into his, oh, empty trailer. Ashley is nowhere to be seen. 
“Hey, thanks for coming.” You nod, still looking around expecting her to jump out and slap you. “Um, sit. Sit, I have to talk to you about something.” You go to sit on the couch, but then remember what occurred there yesterday and instead lean against the counter. He notices but doesn’t say anything. 
“Yeah okay. What’s up?” You try to act nonchalant, but the anxiety is too high for that. ‘I have to talk to you about something’ never ends well. He walks over and sits on the bed pats the spot next to him. God, this can’t be a good conversation if he really wants you to sit. 
“Ashley and I were never...on here.” He mumbles. You walk over and sit next to him, blushing that he caught on to why you didn’t sit on the couch. 
“Must be serious if you need me to sit.” Owen takes a deep breath, another, another, and then there’s lips on your. They’re soft and nice and taste like carmex chapstick. 
“Mhm, Owen, what, what are you doing?” Your faces are still close together, both of you not wanting to back away yet. 
“I’m gonna talk. Okay I’m gonna talk and I want you to listen and not crawl inside your head too soon okay?” You nod, knowing in this moment you’d do anything to keep him this close. 
“I knew Ashley from high school. She started texting me a few weeks back and one thing led to another and she was calling me her boyfriend. I didn’t want it but it happened and I let it because it got my mind off a girl I shouldn’t like because it would ruin so many things. I didn’t know she was coming to visit and when she knocked on my trailer she jumped me and just kept going. And I just went along with everything yesterday because I’m supposed to be her boyfriend and I’m supposed to think about those things with her and I’m supposed to want those things with her, but I don’t Y/N. I don’t want those things with her I never did. I, I want them with you. I’ve wanted them with you from the moment you finally stopped being shy around me and dragged me from crafts by my ear to hair and makeup. You’re so amazing Y/N and I thought if I did anything I’d ruin this and ruin your career and I didn’t want that. I never wanted that so I went along with Ashley but I shouldn’t have because the whole time I was thinking about you. It’s always been -” You kiss him. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him. It’s a passionate kiss, an ‘about time’ kiss, an ‘i’m never letting you go’ kiss. 
You only break away when you can’t breathe, and even then you only pull away enough to breath in each other’s air. 
“She left. She’s gone. She knew I was never 100% in.” You nod, but you’re not really listening. You can’t hear anything other than your heartbeat. 
He likes you. 
Owen likes you.
Owen kissed you. 
“It’s always been you, Y/N.” You smile. It’s a big one that you have to hamper down by biting your lip. Owen smiles back, then you’re kissing again. 
And again. 
And again.
668 notes · View notes
shemarmooresfedora · 3 years
Text
Rebuilding Family
Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
A/N: hi! i’m going camping soon so i will have limited to no cell service so my blog may be kind of dead from tuesday-friday. i may have a chapter out next weekend but i’m not entirely sure. also, i plan on closing my 400 follower celebration on tuesday if you want to get any last asks in! :)
Masterlist
Chapter 33
Spencer’s phone vibrated on the kitchen table as you were breast-feeding Ophelia, Ollie patiently waiting his turn in the bouncer.
“Spence!” you tried to call up the stairs where Spencer was folding laundry with Jo.
He must not have heard you so you slowly got up and shuffled over to his phone, trying not to disturb Ophelia.
“Hello?” you answered.
“Oh hi, Mrs. Reid! I was hoping to get one of you on the line!” Taylor, your real estate agent, spoke through the phone.
“Oops, my bad if you tried to call me first, I think I left my phone out in the car,” you apologized.
“No worries! I was just calling to give you some good news! The owners of the house on Magnolia Drive accepted your offer! You’re in!”
You shrieked in delight and surprise. All of a sudden, you heard footsteps sprinting down the hall upstairs and then Spencer tripped on one of the top steps and tumbled to the main floor.
“Oh god, Taylor, I have to call you back,” you hung up the phone and set Ophelia down, running over to Spencer.
“What happened? Are you hurt?” Spencer tried to sit up from his position on the floor panickedly.
“Hey, hey, stay there for a second. Don’t get up too quick. I should be asking you that question. Did you hit your head?” you asked.
“No, just my back and elbow,” Spencer groaned.
You helped him to the couch and had him lie on his belly. You walked over to the freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen peas to place on his lower back.
You sat down on the floor right in front of his face so you were level with him. You gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.
“Hopefully the news that got you hurt in the first place will help you feel better,” you smiled softly, “We got the house!”
“We got the house?!” Spencer tried to sit up slightly but you pushed him back down gently so he wouldn’t further injure his back.
“Taylor just called. She didn’t give me any specifics but I said I would call her back.”
“Call her back! I’m fine!” Spencer excitedly insisted.
You grabbed Spencer’s phone and hit Taylor’s contact.
“Hey Taylor, I‘ve got Spencer here with me now,” you smiled.
“Well congratulations to you both. The owners have already moved out all of their stuff so they said you can move in as soon as you sign the paperwork. Could you stop by my office tomorrow?” Taylor asked.
“Yes, we’ll be there!” Spencer beamed as you ended the call.
“We got the house!” you cheered, “We got the house!”
Spencer chuckled at you bouncing up and down in front of him.
“What’s happening, Mommy?” Jo asked as she came down the stairs.
“Baby J, we got the house with the big yard! We’re moving!”
Jo ran down the rest of the stairs and joined your little dance party.
Spencer slowly sat up on the couch and groaned in pain, reaching over to the babies’ bouncers.
“Oh my god, you can’t be without a kid in your arms for one second,” you laughed.
-
“I can’t believe not even two years ago I was moving into the spare bedroom here and now we’re moving into our dream house,” Spencer smiled softly as you and him packed boxes in the bedroom.
“Well, believe it, love. I can’t wait to have a little more room,” you sighed happily as you taped up one of the boxes.
You were pulling clothes out of your closet to pack when you saw Spencer’s Caltech sweatshirt from your first interaction.
You slid it over your head and waited for Spencer to turn around after stacking a box on top of the growing pile.
Spencer smiled when he saw you, “Just as beautiful as ever, my love.”
Spencer leaned down to kiss you but Ollie started to cry. You reached up a little further to connect your lips, giving him a quick peck before walking over towards the bassinets.
“Hi, my baby. What’s wrong?” you lifted him up.
As you were patting him on the back slightly, you heard a burping sound.
“Oh no!” you panicked as you looked in the mirror, seeing spit-up trailing down the back of your beloved sweatshirt.
“Hey, hey sweetheart. It’s okay, we’ll put it in the wash,” Spencer assured you, grabbing Ollie from your arms.
“What if it’s ruined?” you cried softly.
Spencer pulled you in for a hug with the one arm he wasn’t holding Ollie in. He rested his chin on the top of your head.
“Love, if you told college me that when I gave you that sweatshirt so many years ago, that eventually it would be covered in our baby’s spit-up, I would be the happiest man in the whole word,” he whispered in your ear.
You laughed softly, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
-
“It’s even bigger than I remember, Mommy and Daddy!” Jo greeted you at the door of the new house.
Jo opted to ride with her Uncle Derek in the moving truck while you and Spencer took the twins in your car.
“Can I please go play in the yard?” Jo asked sweetly.
“Yes but don’t go past the trees at the edge of the yard. I need to be able to see you from the window,” you told her, “Henry should be over soon to join you with Aunt JJ.”
Jo pushed open the sliding door to the sun room and ran outside. You opened a window so you were able to hear her giggles of delight.
You watched as Jo did cartwheels and somersaults across the yard as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist.
“Still can’t believe it?” you asked Spencer.
“My dream coming true? I guess I’m still trying to take it all in,” he sighed happily.
-
“Arms up, my girls,” Spencer smiled.
You and Jo lifted your arms above your heads as Spencer slid two of his big t-shirts on to your bodies.
“Alright, Jo. We’ve got our smocks on. I’d say we’re ready to paint!”
You and Spencer had already done a base cost of pale sky blue late in the new nursery last night after you put all the kids to bed. Spencer decided to leave the artistic creativity up to you and Jo today because someone had to watch the babies.
You and Jo laid out your paints and brushes. You were going for a nature theme with the blue base coat serving as the sky and Spencer used a sponge brush to create big fluffy clouds. Today, you and Jo were going to paint a garden scene.
“I’m going to start on some ladybugs over here, Mommy,” Jo informed you, picking up one of the stencils.
“Okay, sweetheart. Let me know if you need any help. I’m going to work on the big maple tree next to the window,” you smiled.
-
“Daddy! You have to come see now! We’re done,” Jo yelled down the stairs.
“Coming, Princess!” Spencer replied.
Spencer entered the nursery with the double cloth baby bjorn on his chest holding the twins. The walls were adorned with colorful flowers, bumblebees, butterflies, trees, and birds.
“Oh my god, this is beautiful! My girls are so so talented!” Spencer praised.
“Do the babies like it?” Jo asked hopefully.
Spencer picked the babies up one by one and pretended they were whispering in his ear.
“Ollie and Ophelia both love it! They want to thank their Mommy and big sister for their amazing work! They can’t wait to sleep in here,” Spencer pretended to be relaying the message from the twins.
“You’re welcome, babies,” Jo beamed.
Spencer crouched down so Jo could give them both forehead kisses.
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five-rivers · 3 years
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Prompt: some of the blob ghosts like to cuddle up with Danny while he sleeps. One/both of his parents see this when they check his room one night.
Ghosts weren’t alive.  They didn’t have cells.  They didn’t breathe.  Some of them formed from the aether, with no parents to speak of, or were born of things that were not ghosts.  That didn’t mean they didn’t participate in an ecosystem of sorts, didn’t mean they weren’t subject to their own, internal logic, didn’t mean that the graces of society and community were lost on them.  
As with more material beings, symbiosis was the rule, rather than the exception.  
Danny was a protector, and he had the tendency to drive off predators, one way or another.  The community of smaller, weaker spirits thrived under his aegis.  
Symbiosis.  Mutualism.  Both sides benefit.  
Danny trudged up the stairs, covered in thick, sticky ectoplasm.  He’d been on the receiving end of an invention explosion downstairs, and he had more than a few cuts and bruises underneath the rapidly hardening ooze.  
Would this even come out in a shower?
He opened the bathroom door and was immediately accosted by a dozen-odd blob ghosts.  He quickly bundled them into his arms and pushed them back into the bathroom.  This was difficult, because although the smallest of them was about the size of a cat, the largest were the size of toddlers.  Wiggly toddlers.  
Door shut, and immediate risk of exposure reduced, Danny let go of the ghosts, who nuzzled him, mumbling, whispering, and purring, all the sounds just shy of having meaning.  The amoeba-like ghosts didn’t really have mouths or tongues, but nevertheless it certainly felt like they were licking him.  He flinched away when one of the smaller ghosts explored the area behind his ear.  
At least they were getting something out of this.
The blob ghosts had just shown up one day, and Danny hadn’t the will to drive them off.  Plus, not having to clean up all the ectoplasm he got all over himself, his clothing, and his room on a regular basis was nice.  Also, they, and some of the other small ghosts that regularly hung out around him, gave his ghost half warm fuzzies.  Or cold fuzzies.  Whichever.  
Of course, even if the blob ghosts did take off all the ectoplasm (and the blood) Danny was still going to take a shower.  No matter how comfortable he was with the blob ghosts otherwise, he was not about to take a shower with them.  When his skin and hair felt reasonably ectoplasm free, he built up a shield on his skin and used it to gently push away the blob ghosts.  The ghosts got the hint, and retreated, mostly invisible, to Danny’s bedroom.  
Good.  Alright.  
Shower, first, then collapse.  
(Today had been exhausting.)
About half an hour later, Danny wandered into his room, the blob ghosts waiting for him.  He had to shove them around a bit to make room for himself on his bed.  
He snuggled underneath his blankets, and the blob ghosts snuggled up next to him, their ruby eyes closed to pleased slits.  Their not-weight and coolness were comforting against Danny’s skin.  
Too tired to stop it, Danny’s core began to purr.  The ghosts’ whispering and muttering took on an edge of giggling, and Danny glared at them playfully.  They did not stop.  
“Hmmnh, are there more of you?” asked Danny as a middle-sized one claimed a spot near the back of his neck.  
He had a theory (unconfirmed) that the blob ghosts and others that lived in his territory were somehow attuned to his emotional state.  There always seemed to be more of them around when he was stressed or worn out.  
Not getting an answer, he hummed, almost at the same pitch as the blob ghosts, and managed to maneuver the largest so that he could hold it like a teddy bear.  
This was good.  
He went to sleep.  
.
“I’m going to go check on Danny,” said Maddie.  
“He’s probably asleep by now,” said Jack.  
“I know.  We just pushed him really hard today, and then that explosion at the end...”  She sighed.  “Not the best way to convince the kids to join the family business.”
“Mhm,” said Jack.  “Danny’s tough, though.”
“I know,” said Maddie.  She sighed.  “He was worn out from all the way in the morning, though.  I hope he’s not staying up late playing video games again.”
“No way!  He’s learned that lesson.  I hope.”
“Yeah, we hope.”  She patted Jack’s knee and pushed off the couch.  “I’m still going to go check on him.”
She climbed the stairs, smiling at the soft music playing from Jazz’s ajar door.  Sometimes she wished Jazz relaxed more, but it was also nice to see her studying.  
Danny’s door was firmly closed, but none of the bedroom doors had locks, so Maddie just turned the handle and pushed open the door.  
She froze immediately.  
The scene in front of her was something akin to finding her child asleep in a pit of snakes, only worse.  Much worse.  Snakes could kill you.  Ghosts could do more. 
One of the many, many evilly glowing ghosts slithered up over Danny’s neck, making him shift slightly in his sleep.  None of them had noticed her, yet.  
She couldn’t wake Danny.  He’d panic, and then who knew what the ghosts would do?  She couldn’t attack outright.  Too many of them.  She’d never get them all with the tiny hand blaster she kept on her person at all times.  Even if she had something larger, she’d risk hitting Danny, and he sometimes had odd reactions to ectoplasmic discharge- some kind of allergy.  Not to mention, the bigger guns were dangerous to humans in their own right, no matter that they tried to make their weapons nonlethal.  
No good options.  
What would the ghosts do when they saw her?
She backed away, keeping her footsteps light.  She went to Jazz’s room.
“Jazz, sweetie?”
“Hm?” said Jazz, looking up from her desk.
“Go get your father.  Tell him to come quietly.  And bring the phasing net.”
“Um, okay?  What’s going on?”
Just hurry,” said Maddie, “quietly.”
“Alright,” said Jazz, still dubious, but getting up nonetheless.  “Is something wrong?  Yes.  Remember, quietly- No, leave your music on.”
“Okay,” said Jazz again. 
Maddie heaved a sigh of relief as she saw Jazz make her way down the stairs. 
Alright.   
She had... something of a plan.  Almost.  
She wouldn’t let those filthy ghosts hurt her son.
.
Of all the ways to wake up, getting a net thrown on him was one of the worst.  The blob ghosts were still on him, and, of course, their collective instinct was to phase away from the offending object, straight through his bed and floor, into the kitchen.  They hit the table, still wrapped in the net.  
The blobs keened, and Danny tensed, holding off his transformation as he heard feet on the staircase.  Jack and Maddie soon arrived.  
“Uh,” said Danny, squiggling so that he could wave at them through the net.  “Hi?”
“You,” said Maddie, “you phased with the net.”
“Oops?”
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